The Perfect Match

  “But what if this is destiny? You and me together. Loving each other. Loving the girls. What if—”

  “Your sister said you’ve never been wise about creatures you try to heal. I’m going to be wise for you.” Cash cradled her cheek with one hand, ran his thumb across the place where her tears had run over the ruin of the necklace Charlie had given her. Then he touched her lips, the lips that hadn’t hesitated to tell him truths that hurt, made him angry. At last, he lifted her hand and pressed her palm against his.

  Her hand seemed so small, delicate compared to his.

  “What if I don’t want to be wise?” she asked. “What if I’m willing to risk everything by loving you?”

  “Then you’re braver than I can ever be. We have to end this, Rowena. Now. Before it gets any more painful. For the girls. For you. For me. The longer we wait, the harder it will be for all of us. Help me do what I know is right.”

  He felt a tearing away in her, a sadness, a surrender.

  “Can I say goodbye to the girls? I have something for Charlie.”

  “Sure.”

  Rowena ran her fingers through her hair to straighten where he’d mussed it. He had to open the door, go back to the kitchen. She was waiting, hoping that he would change his mind.

  But they’d barely stepped out of the other room before they heard Charlie’s call, shrill, almost…alarmed.

  They rushed together down the hall and saw Charlie, round-eyed in her red-and-white candy-striped pajamas, Destroyer at her side, peering up at her with a worried expression. No doubt about it, Cash thought. The dog sensed as much as he did that something was amiss. As for any lingering traces of the arousal Rowena had stirred up in the laundry room, the sight of Cash’s daughter doused them more effectively than another dip in the dunk tank.

  “Daddy…Mac…Mac says she got her bear down all by herself,” Charlie accused.

  “And this bothers you?” Cash drew it out into a question, mentally bracing himself for the daily task of mediating yet another argument between his girls.

  Charlie twined her fingers in the ruff of thick fur at the back of Destroyer’s neck. “I told Mac it was real bad to lie. You always give her bear to her when she goes to bed, don’t you?”

  Cash scanned for verbal booby traps. “Ballerina Bear is a big favorite at the moment.” He headed for MacKenzie’s bedroom to try to figure out exactly what had tripped Charlie’s aggravation wire.

  “That’s what I told her! But Mac said she slept with her Dora the Explorer doll last night.”

  Cash filed back through his memory, trying to remember any variation in the usual bedtime ritual. “Mac’s right. I tucked her in with Dora. And that little monkey guy Dora hangs out with. I stuck the bear up on the shelf.”

  “But that’s impossible!” Charlie wailed, rushing into Mac’s room ahead of him, the dog at her side. “Just look!” She pointed and sure enough, the ballerina bear wasn’t on the shelf where he’d put it. The fluffy stuffed animal was tucked securely in the crook of Mac’s arm.

  Cash stared, bemused. “Mac, how did you get your bear?”

  “My doggy helped me,” Mac insisted, sticking her tongue out at her big sister.

  Cash didn’t stop to correct her. He looked from the dog’s tongue-lolling grin to the belligerent jut of his youngest daughter’s chin. “Destroyer fetched it?”

  Rowena hugged Cash from behind. “I told you he’s a smart dog!” she exclaimed.

  Mac scowled at them, disgruntled. “Destroyer didn’t fetch it. I did.” She jabbed her little thumb at the cartoon bunny decorating her ruffled nightgown. “My doggy just helped.”

  “But how…?” Cash struggled to get his mind around what she’d claimed.

  “By bein’ my magic carpet ride. I told you an’ told you, an’ Charlie, too. Aren’t your brains turned on this early?”

  Cash was grateful for Rowena’s hand against his back, her voice, so filled with an innate optimism he didn’t dare share. “Can you show us, sweetie?” Rowena asked.

  Mac heaved a sigh that could have shaken the rooftops. “I suppose. But you have to put my dolly back on the shelf first.” She thrust the bear at Rowena with such a long-suffering attitude Cash almost managed to smile. But his face felt too stiff to do anything but hold his breath and watch.

  Rowena did as the child told her, settling the ballerina bear back on its perch atop the white painted shelf he’d built the year Mac was born. There was no way Mac could reach the toy there, Cash reasoned, trying to guard himself, keep himself from being disappointed. It was just a little too high. A little too far.

  And yet…Rowena’s enthusiasm threatened to seep into his very bones. It scared him. Fucking terrified him. Daring to hope that much.

  “C’mere Destroyer,” Mac commanded.

  The Newfie left Charlie’s side and padded over to Mac’s bed, putting his big body between the child and the shelf. Soulful canine eyes peered into Mac’s face, as if in complete communion.

  Cash held his breath as MacKenzie grabbed big handfuls of the dog’s fur and slowly, laboriously pulled herself up onto her feet.

  Her feet…for a few precious seconds all of her weight was on her own legs. And they held—sonofabitch!—those thin, scarred, mended little legs held!

  Then it was over. She leaned across Destroyer until her tummy was pressed to the dog’s back. She held on tight with one hand and reached her other arm across to her doll.

  For a moment the stuffed bear twisted, started to fall, but Mac got hold of a piece of tutu. She hauled the doll into her arm, stood for a heartbeat, then plopped her nightgown-clad bottom back down onto the bed.

  “Mac, you—you were standing up,” Cash breathed. “You were.”

  Red-faced with exertion and more than a little breathless, she scowled at the three dumbstruck people before her.

  “I was getting my doll all by myself. ’Cause you always take too damned long.”

  Cash didn’t even mention the bad word. Let the kid swear today. She could say anything she wanted as long as she kept doing that miraculous thing…spending a few precious seconds standing on her own two feet.

  Mac shoved her doll aside and put her hands on her hips, shooting the stare of death across the room. “You got something to say to me, buster? Like you’re sorry.”

  “Sorry?” Cash exclaimed. “I’m not sorry. I’m elated. I’m so—so proud, kitten.”

  “Of me and not Charlie, right?” Mac insisted, driving her point home like a ruthless little pirate. “’Cause Charlie called me a big fat liar.”

  “I did not!” Charlie protested. “Not the big fat part, anyway.”

  “Maybe I’ll take the doggy for walks,” Mac said as Cash swept her up into his arms, hugged her tight. “Maybe Destroyer’ll like me best. Maybe…”

  “She can’t do that!” Charlie burst out, her face pale. “Tell her, Daddy! He’s my dog, isn’t he?”

  “He’s everybody’s dog now,” Cash said. “Mine, too. We’re keeping him.”

  “Forever?” Charlie gasped, her dread of moments before transforming into amazement, joy. “Really, truly, Daddy?”

  “Forever,” Cash said, rumpling Charlie’s sleep-tousled hair. “Now, we’d better get you girls ready so I can take you to school.”

  Lines appeared in Charlie’s brow. “You’re taking us? But I looked at the calendar. I thought Rowena…”

  Cash grinned at her. “The hell with the calendar! Today’s a special day. I decided to take some vacation, spend time with you. We’ll work real hard on therapy, right, Mac? Maybe by next year you really will be taking your dog for a walk.”

  “My dog,” Charlie whispered.

  “Yeah, cupcake, your dog, too.”

  “Listen, I need to get back to the pet shop,” Rowena said. “Vinny could use the time off.”

  “Aren’t you going to take vacation with us?” Mac asked, dangling her bear upside down by one furry leg.

  Cash looked at Rowena, suddenly remembering,
an unexpected ache taking a bite out of his joy. This was goodbye. “No, sweetheart,” he said. “Rowena’s got stuff of her own to do. She can’t stick around here forever.”

  “Oh,” Mac said, puzzled. “Is it like, we have to pick one like on game shows? The puppy or the trip to Disney World? Except Rowena’s not Disney World.”

  “She was never ours to keep. She was just helping out. We don’t need her help anymore.”

  Talk about a big fat liar, Cash thought. He needed Rowena. And badly. He just couldn’t have her.

  But this breakthrough with Mac—it would change everything. He’d need to channel even more of his energy into making his little girl stronger. What was that strange fluttering sensation in his chest? Hope?

  “We can still come to the shop sometimes, can’t we?” Charlie asked, looking more than ever like a lost little soul.

  “You have to buy dog food, don’t you?” Rowena asked, and Cash could see how fragile her smile was. “Destroyer eats a lot.”

  Charlie nodded.

  “He poops a lot, too,” Mac said. “You should see how big—”

  “Hey, there, Princess.” Cash cut her off, laying his hand gently across her mouth. “We don’t discuss that subject in front of company. Got it?”

  Mac nodded and pulled his hand away.

  Charlie chewed on her bottom lip, her eyes locked on Rowena. He hated the loss in his little girl’s face. He searched for something to drive it away. Latched onto the night before.

  “Listen, I’ve got some news for you,” he said, feeling a little uneasy even as he said the words. “It’s about your mom.”

  “Our mom?” Mac bounced in his arms. “Is she sending me toys, Daddy?”

  “No. Well, I don’t know about that.” But it was a pretty good bet Lisa would come through the door with a bag bigger than the one Santa carried, Cash thought. “What I do know is this—you know you’ve got four days off next week?”

  “Yeah,” Charlie said warily. “My teacher says we should use it to work on our projects.”

  “You’re going to have to do that some other time, kiddo. Because you and Mac are going to spend your vacation time in Chicago with your mommy.”

  Mac squealed in delight, even Charlie’s features lit up.

  “Really! Really, truly, Daddy?” Charlie asked, breathlessly.

  “That’s what she says. She’s picking you up on Thursday.”

  “Hey, Charlie! Remember what Mommy said? They got the biggest toy stores in the world in Chicago! Bigger than our house! Bigger than Toys ’R Us. Bigger than the uni-verse!”

  Rowena listened to Mac’s crows of delight, saw the anticipation in Charlie’s far quieter response. Searched Cash’s face, so glad he’d taken the chance, letting Lisa take the children for a little while.

  She hoped he’d rest, hoped he’d recharge in his time alone. Catch his second wind. But it seemed Mac’s triumph, standing for those moments, had surged energy back into him, restoring his depleted resources.

  All that was left was for her to go.

  Her throat ached with loss as she backed out of the room, not wanting to ruin the girls’ delight, trying not to mind that she was already forgotten, replaced by their anticipation and excitement at the thought of seeing their mother.

  That was how it should be. And yet…

  No matter how many times she said goodbye to someone she’d loved, be it animals or now, little girls, she was always surprised just how much it hurt.

  As she paused in the kitchen to fetch her purse and keys, her gaze snagged on the paper bag she’d left on the counter. Grabbing up a stray marker, she wrote Charlie’s name on it.

  She capped the pen and headed for the door.

  “Rowena?”

  She turned at the sound of Charlie’s voice.

  “You disappeared,” the little girl said. “You didn’t say goodbye.”

  “You were all so excited about your mom coming I didn’t want to bother you. And you get to spend time with your daddy, too. Aren’t you a lucky girl?”

  “No. Not very,” Charlie said, pushing her glasses up her nose.

  Rowena crossed to where Charlie stood, lifting the child up in her arms. “I’ve got a feeling your luck is about to change. Now that Destroyer is permanently on guard.”

  “Like your luck did when you got your magic whistle?”

  “Just like that.” She squeezed Charlie tight, drinking in the warm, little-girl smells of baby shampoo and strawberry soap and freshly washed linens. She wasn’t going to cry, give Charlie one more thing to worry about.

  “I’m glad you came out here, because I’ve got something for you,” Rowena said. She settled the little girl on her hip and Charlie let her, winding her arms around Rowena’s neck as she carried the child to the counter.

  “What is it?” Charlie asked as Rowena handed over the paper sack.

  “See for yourself.”

  The paper rustled as Charlie opened the bag.

  “Corn,” Charlie said as she gave Rowena a little smile. “You remembered.”

  “I promised you I’d put it back, didn’t I?”

  Charlie nodded.

  “There’s something else in there, too. Dig a little deeper.”

  Frowning in concentration, Charlie rummaged around in the sack until she came up with something shiny, metal.

  “It’s a can opener for your survival kit,” Rowena said, her voice breaking. “You’ve got to have some way to open all those cans. Just in case.”

  Charlie ran her fingertips over the simple tool as if it were made of gold. “You know, I got lots of stuff up there,” she said. “For me and Mac and Daddy and Mr. Google. If there’s ever a tornado or a flood or the world blows up or something, I bet I’d have enough food so you could come be safe with us, too.”

  “I’ll count on that,” Rowena said. She wanted to hug Charlie, tight, but if she did she feared she’d cry. Better try to keep this parting light. No matter how much it hurt. She set the child back down on her feet, Charlie’s practical navy-blue slippers so different from Mac’s flowered ones that it hurt Rowena’s heart.

  “See you later, alligator,” she said, touching the little girl’s nose.

  “After a while, crocodile.”

  The last thing Rowena saw when she glanced back was Charlie, in her striped pajamas, climbing up into her tree house, the shiny new opener in her hand.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  THE DOG WAS WHINING AGAIN, looking up at Cash with eyes that could have conned Scrooge out of his last stinking nickel. Okay, so the girls had only been gone a little while. Cash left off cleaning his service revolver at the coffee table in the living room and glanced at his wristwatch. Nine hours, twenty-six minutes and…who the hell could keep track of how many seconds anyway, the little hand seemed to flash around so fast? Then why did this day seem to be crawling by so slowly it was almost going backwards?

  Destroyer paced into Mac’s room and brought out ballerina bear, drooling all over a mouthful of purple tutu. The dog dropped it at Cash’s feet, adding one more toy to the pile of the girls’ stuff that the animal had been amassing in the living room. One of Charlie’s neon-orange rollerblades lay on its side, the pocket of her baseball mitt held three of those scrunched-up hair bands she used to put her hair in a ponytail. A fugitive sock that had dodged the laundry draped over every stuffed animal that had been within the dog’s reach.

  Did tutus wash? Cash mused as he looked down at the bear. It looked as if he was going to find out before Mac got home.

  “Mac’s not here,” he griped at the dog. “Charlie’s not here. They’re gone. This is our big break, dog. We can do whatever the hell we want to. Fix the garage door, watch all those cop dramas that are too violent for the girls. Man stuff, you know? We can go have a beer with the guys or play a little pool with Jake, or…sit in this miserable gray house and listen to how quiet the place is.”

  Destroyer laid his head on Cash’s knee and heaved a sigh so heavy the gun
parts rattled against the tabletop. Could a dog die of a broken heart in four days? Hadn’t one of Cash’s brothers had a book about some mutt that had pined its way into the grave before its boy came home from the war?

  Yeah, Cash recalled. It was Donovan, making one more attempt to convince their mom to let him get a dog for his birthday. Mom hadn’t budged. She already had too much work to do, too much house to clean, too many kids to keep track of and too much laundry to hang out on the line. All the reasons Cash had told Rowena he couldn’t manage a dog.

  But if Destroyer weren’t here now, Mac wouldn’t have wrestled her way to her feet last week. Charlie wouldn’t be smiling more often. And right now, he’d be all alone.