When Tessa bent closer, the little girl took a step back, refusing to look up.
“I can’t wait to show you all the toys I have for your stay,” Tessa continued, undaunted. “I sure hope you like stuffies. I pretty much cleaned out Target.”
No response. No eye contact. But no tears, either.
Morgan stood a few feet away with her arms folded tight over her chest, staring at the driveway, either disinterested or distracted. Whichever, she wasn’t stepping in and encouraging her little girl tosay hello to the nice lady.
Dusty pulled a very small pink roller bag with faded images of Hello Kitty on the side from the back and glanced at Tessa. “That’s everything. The car seat can stay in the truck.”
“Do you want to come inside with Olive?” Tessa asked Morgan. “You might feel better if you see her room.” She leaneda little closer to Olive to stage-whisper, “It’s the one with the brand new big-girl bed.”
Olive looked up, the first spark of interest in her blue, blue eyes.
“No,” Morgan said, her voice gruff. “I can’t…no. You…take her.”
“Well, you probably want to say goodbye.” Tessa put a light hand on Olive’s shoulder. “Kiss Mommy, honey. She wants to hug you before she leaves.”
The interest in her eyes turned to raw fear as she looked from Tessa to Morgan to Dusty and back to Morgan, her little brain visibly putting two and two together and coming up with…desertion.
Instantly, her mouth opened, her eyes filled, and the air rocked with the high-pitched wail.
“No, no, don’t cry?—”
Tessa’s plea was drowned out by a scream of “Mommy! Mommy!” as Olive shot straight to her mother, arms out, feet jumping to get up.
Morgan didn’t reach for her child. She just looked down at Olive, silent. Like she didn’t hear the cries or see the desperation in her child’s outstretched arms.
For some reason, that stunned Tessa—more than if she’d reprimanded the little girl.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Tessa murmured, resisting the urge to scoop her up and comfort the poor thing. “Mommy will be back soon. Until then, we’ll have fun. So much fun. More fun than you’ve ever had, starting with…dolls. We have baby dolls. And a stuffed, um, turtle or six. And a farmhouse. And games. So many games. Candy Land! Do you play?”
Olive wiped a runny nose, put her head back, and howled, “Mommmy!”
Morgan took a step back and gave Tessa a silent plea for help.
“You can pick her up,” Dusty said. “In fact, you should probably take her inside.”
She didn’t have to be asked twice. Tessa lifted the tiny body—she couldn’t weigh twenty-five pounds—and pressed Olive to her chest, ignoring the kicks and attempts to get free.
“Mommmy!” She screeched the word at an unimaginable pitch in Tessa’s ear, who held tight and turned to Morgan.
Tessa still couldn’t fathom that the young woman didn’t want to at least give her daughter one last kiss before a month apart.
But Morgan had two hands over her face, her own shoulders shaking with a sob.
Instantly, Dusty slid his arm around Morgan. “You got this, Morgan. I promise you, it’s going to be fine.” He ushered her into the truck, helped her with the seatbelt, then closed the door. Rushing around the front of the truck, he slowed when he neared the walkway where Tessa stood with a squirmy, teary two-year-old.
“Is she okay?” Tessa mouthed, her heart breaking for Morgan.
He lifted a shoulder. “I’m checking her into the center right now. Can you handle…”
“Yes,” she said with far more confidence than she felt. “We got this. Right, Olive Oyl? Just like Popeye’s girlfriend, huh? We are girls on a mission to have fun. Ready?”
The squirming slowed and the wailing quieted. Her body was still tense, but it was a start.
Dusty leaned forward and gave Olive’s curls a pat. “You’re in good hands,” he whispered, then leaned in to brush Tessa’s cheek with his knuckles. “And you’re a goddess.”
She smiled. “Hand me that suitcase,” she said.
