Loner by Harloe Rae Page 0,94
on fire by this point.
“Mama?” Millie’s voice breaks me out of my circular thoughts.
I blink off the remaining ashes. “Yes, sweetie?”
“Elsa is lonely. She told me. That’s why her ears are so droopy.” My daughter squishes her beloved pet’s face between her small hands.
I look at the dog, finding her eyes peeking up at me in that heartbreaking way. “You two were just running around having a blast. What happened?”
“She misses her friend. I bet Patch is super sad, too.”
A thick exhale deflates my stance. “Mill—”
She interjects before I can correct her. “I know we’re not gonna talk to Ford ever again. Does that mean we won’t see Patch either?”
“Yeah, baby girl. That’s kinda how things have to be.”
Millie’s bottom lip sticks out. “But why?”
“Because,” I state. No nonsense. I even tip my chin for a false sense of authority.
My daughter squints, having none of that from me. “You always tell me that’s not a good reason.”
“It only is when there’s nothing else to say.” When did she start questioning my methods?
“But there are other ways, Mama. Maybe Ford will let us take Patch out with us. She can have a doggy slumber party with Elsa.”
But that would involve talking to him. I don’t point out that minor conflict in her grand plan. “Maybe, sweetie.”
“But that means no.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I murmur.
Her pout cranks up another notch, adding a tremble for added impact. “You want them to be all alone and unhappy?”
I almost double over from the harsh dose of mom guilt. If I survive Millie’s frequent administrations, it will be a shock. “No, baby girl. That’s the last thing I want.”
Before Millie can inject another round of shame, a familiar face appears in the crowd of strangers. It’s as if she heard my desperate calling for a diversion. I smile at Kellie as she approaches. Millie clams up when the woman is within speaking distance. She slinks off to play with Elsa before getting herself into an awkward social situation.
“Hello, Keegan. I thought that was you, but wasn’t sure until Millie took off.” Kellie waves in my daughter’s direction, but only gets averted eye contact in response.
“Hey, Kellie. It’s nice to see you. Sorry about Millie. She’s very shy.”
She waves off my concern. “I totally understand. My son was the same way until he was a teenager. He’s still very particular about who’s worthy of his words.”
That sounds familiar. I shove the comparison away before anything can take root. “I’m hoping Millie will expand her circle of trust as she gets older. She allowed a new person in recently.” But he’s gone now. The dark cloud rests above my head regardless of my attempts to shove the gloom away. “Anyway, do you live around here? I haven’t seen you around before.”
Kellie shakes her head, dark hair fanning around her shoulders. “No, I’m from Gulligan Haven. I meet foster families here frequently for puppy exchanges.”
“Oh, that’s convenient.”
“It is. I also get the chance to check up on adopted favorites.” She smiles warmly at Elsa chasing after a ball with Millie hot on her heels.
“Well, this is a nice surprise visit. Millie couldn’t be more pleased with her. She’s been the perfect addition to our family.”
The older woman smiles at me. “That’s so wonderful to hear. And speaking of coincidences, I believe we have a common thread aside from Elsa.”
I lift my brows at her “Oh?”
“My son is Crawford Doxe.”
“Oh.” The bagel I ate for breakfast forms a ball of acid in my stomach.
She laughs at my flat tone. “I was expecting that reaction from you.”
Dear Lord, what has he told her? This is a freaking nightmare. I discreetly press on my temple, wishing the pounding to cease. Did she come here to reprimand me? The only answer I give is a tight pinch of my lips.
“Don’t look so petrified, dear. He didn’t tell me much beyond your names.” She nods to Millie playing with Elsa in front of us.
That revelation eases the pressure dumping on my chest. “Uh, okay. Crawford is a very, um, talented mechanic.”
“Did he get a glimpse under your hood? Or maybe he focused on getting your motor running really smooth?”
I choke on my tongue. “W-what?”
She tips her head back and laughs. “Oh, just a little humor. It’s quite all right if that’s the case. I have no room to judge. Trust me, I’m not looking to stir the pot.”
Heat infuses my cheeks to the point that I’m sweating. I fan my face,