“Shut up and let’s get out of here.”
“Mommy,” Alix said.
Griff shook his head.
“Mommy,” she wailed.
“Oh, hell,” Griff mumbled as he took her little hand and walked to the door.
* * *
Griff popped the trunk of the family-style sedan and collected as many grocery bags as he could carry. After three trips to the house and back, he’d unloaded most of the packages. He marveled at the amount of food and other items necessary to care for a two year old. Since his niece had become a permanent part of his life, his purchases had expanded immensely. Diapers were but one new addition.
After lifting the last bag, he slammed the trunk closed. Alix’s appetite amazed him. So did the fact that he’d traded in his beloved convertible for what the salesman had termed “the ultimate family car.” Griff had nearly choked on the word family. That was before the man had slapped him on the back and cracked, “Must have been one hell of an argument. This baby’s a lot more expensive than flowers or candy.”
Griff grimaced at the memory. His sports car hadn’t netted much as a trade-in. The guy was a crook, taking Griff’s convertible for much less than what he’d paid. Still, he had to admit the man’s views on women were sound. At this moment, Griff didn’t have a hell of a lot of respect for the gender. He and Alix were a family. There wasn’t a chance the twosome would turn into three.
He left the packages on the kitchen counter and went to trade places with Mrs. Baxter. After a day with an active two year old, the older woman probably needed a rest, unless the past few weeks of sleepless nights had finally caught up with Alix and she’d taken a nap. The poor little girl could use the sleep.
So, for that matter, could he. He was physically exhausted and emotionally drained. His life as a bachelor had left him ill-equipped to handle his niece and her night terrors, or whatever demons prevented the child from sleeping soundly.
The sliding glass door in the kitchen led to a grassy backyard. Griff followed the sound of Alix’s giggles to the large willow tree located on the side of the property. Her carefree laughter surprised him. Though she’d taken to Mrs. Baxter, Alix remained reserved around the older woman. Griff’s concern was diminished somewhat by the fact that his office was now located in the upstairs level of his two-family house. He’d open his practice next week. Should a problem arise, Alix would rarely be far from his sight.
Childlike laughter echoed in the air and Griff smiled. For once, life seemed to be looking up. He turned the corner of the house and stared. Alix sat cuddled in Chelsie Russell’s lap. Chelsie’s brown hair ruffled in the breeze and she looked down, struggling to keep the light wind from turning the pages of a book. That Alix’s little fingers kept grabbing pages made the task more difficult. “More.” His niece’s voice drifted towards him. He stepped closer, mesmerized by the image of the woman reading to Alix, the little girl who had become the center of his being. With their heads bent forward, dark curls ruffled by the wind, they looked so alike they could have been mother and daughter.
Alix laughed, happier than any time in Griff’s recent memory.
As he’d seen the last time they were together, something about Chelsie struck a chord in his niece. Whether it was Chelsie’s resemblance to her sister or something more, Chelsie reached Alix where others could not. Watching them together, Griff silently acknowledged that this woman affected him, as well.
He remained quiet and listened to her soft voice. He searched his mind for similar images in his past, but none came. When his mother had taken off in search of a better, wealthier lifestyle, the task of raising Jared had fallen to Griff. His father tried, but juggling fatherhood and a full-time job had been difficult. As a child, Griff had been denied the uncomplicated pleasure of having a story read to him. When his little brother had gotten scared or lonely, Griff had made up exaggerated tales to distract him. No one had been there for Griff then.
For the moment, he let Chelsie’s voice surround him. Absorbed in her tale, he allowed himself to pretend life could be different, that he could indulge in both love and trust without having them thrown back in his face.
“The end.” Chelsie shut the book. Eyes closed, she lifted her face towards the sun. A peaceful expression touched her features, making her appear vulnerable. Soft and approachable, he thought. Almost as she had after the hearing, when she’d tried to apologize.
Reality intruded, unbidden and unwelcome. Griff forced himself to recall why he’d never have such a loving family scene in his own home. The pleasant feelings she invoked disappeared, along with his good mood. How could he have allowed himself to feel anything for Chelsie Russell?