Shelter from the Storm

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a/n This story is smidge out of my story arc. Even tho Zoë is 4, it actually takes place the Feb before the Christmas stories a few chapters back...

for Mouselle, she will know why...I think! enjoy.

Chapter 30 ~ Do You Promise Not to Tell?

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Julie

The curly haired princess stared at me. I knew that stare, I inherited it too. So I just stared right back at her, channeling my inner badass Ranger.

There she sat in the black leather backseat in her tiny little black velvet flounced miniskirt and pink t-shirt with silver sparkles. Pink Uggs. Little black puffer jacket. Mad, wild curly black hair. Accessorized with a cute little dog—a real dog, tan with a black face, pink sweater and a pink sequined collar. It was snoring, face squinched up on its paws. The kid's outfit screamed designer—not sure what message the dog was sending. It reminded me of the dog in those Eloise books, you know—the little rich girl who lives at the Plaza Hotel in NYC?

Very manly dog, daddy, I thought scornfully

The silence dragged out, underlined only by the high performance throb of the Cayenne's engine. We were driving back to Trenton from the airport at Newark. I was here for a week, a get-to-know-everyone visit during winter break. Like anyone really wants to leave sunny warm Miami in February and go north to New Jersey! I frowned at the little girl beside me, refusing to break my glare. And she did a pretty darn good job of glaring back, but after a few miles the child's big brown pansy eyes widened and started to fill with tears. Geez, Julie, I scolded myself, she's only four years old, get a grip.

The rosebud mouth trembled. But the kid kept up the stare. We hit a pothole and we both lurched against our seatbelts. One big crystal tear popped out of the little girl's eye and trickled down her face.

A thought popped into my head. You're not as old as I was expecting.

It wasn't my voice, it was hers.

I thought in return, I can come back in a few years if you like.

No! "No!" Now the tears went from trickle to river.

In the front seat daddy looked at me in the rearview mirror and said, "No what?"

I shrugged. "Nothing, daddy. Bumpy road."

You don't like me! I thought you'd like me, the kid wailed in my head.

It's not that I don't like you, it's just that….

It's just that you get to be Ranger's real little girl, he's your daddy every single day. I get to see him once or twice a year. He loves you more.

I didn't broadcast the end part, at least I didn't think so.

The little girl quit crying and wiped her eyes on her t-shirt hem.

You could stay?

I thought, Probably, like, NOT, Zoë . She was too old to whine and ask why. But she cocked her head inquisitively.

I said out loud, "My mom wouldn't let me."

Ranger asked, "Let you do what, chica?"

"Nothing, daddy. Drive." He stared at me. I guess I sounded rude.

Now Stephanie turned and looked at us. Zoë gave her mom a big Miss America smile, covering my ass 'cos I'd made her cry.

Steph asked, "You girls okay back there? Seats warm enough?" The Cayenne had heated backseats.

"Toasty warm, mommy!" chirped the kid.

"Killer not barfing yet?"

The tiny dog woke up when he heard his name. It snorted big-time in Steph's direction and she went, "Eeewww,' and turned away.

Zoe and I shared a smile and our hands met as we both gave the tiny dog a thank you pat.

I thought to Zoë, Do they know you can talk to people like this?

No. It's a secret. Promise not to tell?

I shrugged.

Zoë asked, Is that okay?

I smiled at her and took her hand again, gave it a squeeze. I thought, Sure, secrets are good, Z. Enjoy.

…. ….

In the driver's seat Ranger appeared to maintain his zone. And Stephanie was of course oblivious. Ranger frowned a little and resettled his dark glasses. Zoë had a secret, huh? And Julie—well, she did too. He sighed imperceptibly. This daddy shit was hard.

the end