While carrying the groceries into the kitchen, she passed the laundry room door. Someone had shut it since she’d been here last, and she stepped closer to read the piece of paper taped to the wood.
STAY OUT!
I mean it, Hal.
Resist the urge.
Despite her amusement, Hallie’s heart squeezed at the reminder of their phone conversation last night. She’d liked the easy way they’d communicated, as if the heavy conversation in this very kitchen had broken down the barriers of their friendship.
But their playful banter had only tightened the vice grip squeezing her heart. She hadn’t lied about wanting to be friends. She really did want that. Except was that really possible when her feelings for him were becoming so much deeper?
Yet she couldn’t turn off her desire to help this little family. Perhaps the arrangement they’d set up would make it easier to keep an emotional distance. She now worked for Christian. He was her boss. If she kept that in mind, maybe she could convince herself not to do something she’d eventually regret.
Who was she kidding? She was walking on eggshells here, some of which were already jagged and broken, slicing into her feet. But it was too late to back out of the arrangement now.
While the girls finished their snacks, Hallie grabbed the leash from the hook by the back door and clipped it to Pumpkin’s collar. “There’s a good dog. Maybe we can be friends, after all.”
The dog responded with a breathy yip.
Once they bundled back into their jackets and shoes, Hallie strapped Penelope into the stroller, and they set off for the park. Isla walked a few steps ahead, kicking at the pebbles on the sidewalk.
Frantic yipping immediately greeted them as soon as they reached the almost deserted playground. Hallie yanked on Pumpkin’s leash to keep her from toppling the stroller in her effort to say hello to the four yorkies. She swallowed a groan, recognizing the dark-haired woman sitting on the bench immediately.
Carrie arched a single ebony brow as their entourage approached. “The girls didn’t scare you away, I see.”
“Not at all.” Hallie bit back her immediate annoyance and offered no other response. Unclipping Penelope from the stroller, she helped the child down. “Go ahead, sweetie.”
Penelope needed no further encouragement and ran off toward the smaller of the two jungle gyms. Hallie searched the playground for Isla, spotting her over by the swings with another child.
“I’m glad you survived having to watch Isla.” Carrie pierced Hallie with a look of pointed interest. “You must be a strong woman.”
Hallie’s eye twitched in annoyance.Who does this woman think she is? She’s talking trash about a child.Did she have any decency at all?
The temptation to set Carrie in her place with one verbal put-down raged inside her. Instead, she held her head high as she unwrapped Pumpkin’s leash from the stroller’s handlebar. “We had a great time.”
Carrie’s attempt at a sugary sweet smile fell flat. “That’s wonderful. Christian is so lucky to have afriendlike you. Sammy, sweetie,” she called to her daughter, who sat in the swing next to Isla’s. The girls weren’t exactly speaking to each other, more like occupying the same general area. “Come play in the sandbox. I brought some new toys for you.”
The dark-haired girl jumped off the swing and ran over without a backward glance at Isla.
Carrie’s true intention in redirecting her daughter’s play didn’t go unnoticed. It was impossible not to after the disparaging remarks she’d made about Isla over the last two days.
What did she find so lacking in the child? Isla wore her heart on her sleeve, sure. And she had trouble handling big emotions. But didn’t everyone? Why did Carrie feel the need to protect her daughter from a child who clearly needed extra love and kindness?
Leaving this conversation behind became Hallie’s most important task. With little more than a word of farewell, she pulled on Pumpkin to get her to follow. “Come on, girl. Let’s go over there.” She stopped at a bench near the swing set and looped the leash around the metal armrest, making sure to give the dog room to move.
Isla didn’t notice her approach at first. She stared at the ground,her feet waving in lazy kicks, making the swing jerk out in all angles except the direction it should be going. Her hunched shoulders gave away her melancholy.
“Hey.” Hallie crouched in front of the swing, gripping the chains to stop its frantic movements. “You okay?”
Isla stopped kicking and lifted only her eyes. “Sammy used to be my friend. But now she’s not, and I don’t know why.”
A small chasm split inside Hallie’s chest. Isla wasn’t yet six years old, and she’d already experienced so much loss. First her mother. Now her friend. Life could be so cruel.
“I’m sorry,” Hallie said gently. “It’s hard to lose people you care about, huh?”
Isla sniffed. Her mouth puckered in a deep pout, not out of defiance, but of sadness.
Hallie considered her words for several long seconds before speaking them out loud. “Can I be your friend?”
