Adventures In Parenthood. Dawn Atkins
promise. Right now he didn’t give a damn. To help Ginger feel better, he would say anything. He would move in with them—at least at first—so as not to disrupt the girls any more than necessary.
They knew him and loved him. As ill-equipped as he felt, he was the best they had. He wanted to make this right, but how did you make something right that is more wrong than anything that could happen to a child? The girls needed each other most of all, he assumed. Aubrey would know about that, since she and her sister had lost their mother, too. Not this young.
“Shall we go talk to Sienna?” he asked.
Ginger nodded against his shoulder.
He stood, still holding her. As he walked, the skates bumped his legs. What the hell had possessed Aubrey to buy rollerblades? For their third birthday, she’d given them an indoor trapeze and tightrope set. One of the few quarrels Dixon had ever heard between Howard and Brianna had started when Howard bitched that Aubrey was clueless about the girls—buying them classes and toys they were too young for. Brianna had defended her sister with a surprising ferocity.
Aubrey meant well. He knew that. She clearly adored the girls. He felt kind of sorry for her. She seemed to think she had to prove her love with gifts and activities, as if she thought the girls wouldn’t remember her or, hell, love her back.
In the bedroom, Sienna lay facedown on the bottom bunk and Aubrey was pulling the skates from her dangling legs.
“That’s my bed!” Ginger shrieked. “Get off my bed!” The girls were up in each other’s grills about private areas—beds being a flash point. “Daddy said you can’t be on my bed without my permission.”
Sienna raised her face, her cheeks wet with tears, her nose running. “Who cares what Daddy says? Daddy’s dead. So is Mommy. They’re never coming home. They left us all alone.”
Her raw pain hit like a punch in Dixon’s chest. Aubrey dropped a skate with a clunk and hunched over, as if she’d been hit by the same cruel fist. Her eyes met his, their usual crystal-blue gone cloudy.
“We’re not alone,” Ginger said. “Uncle Dixon promised to take care of us forever.”
Aubrey’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He wished they’d had a chance to discuss him being the girls’ guardian first, but it couldn’t be helped. Besides, she would likely be relieved to know he was willing to take over.
The leopard-spotted cat appeared out of nowhere and leaped onto the bed to lick Sienna’s cheek, purring wildly. “Her tongue’s rough,” Sienna said.
“She wants you to feel better,” Aubrey said.
“She just likes the salt,” Sienna said, but a smile flickered on-off.
“I’m sad, too, Scout,” Ginger said, holding out a cheek. “I’ve got tears. See?”
“She wants to be with me,” Sienna said.
“You have to share,” Ginger whined. “It’s not fair.”
“She’ll be with you, too, Ginger,” Aubrey said. “We have plenty of time for Scout to make you both feel better.”
“Will you stay forever, too?” Ginger asked, swiping at her nose.
Aubrey blinked, opened and closed her mouth, clearly not knowing what to say.
“Your aunt lives in L.A., so she can’t,” Dixon said to help her out.
“I’ll stay as long as I can.” She shot him a look, but he could tell she’d been caught off guard.
Ginger sighed sadly.
“How about that ice cream?” he said. “It’s out there melting.” Like that will help, you idiot.
“My stomach hurts too much,” Ginger said.
“It’s gross when it melts,” Sienna said.
“Then let’s run your baths, huh?” He figured keeping to the routine was the smartest way to go.
“I don’t want a bath,” Sienna said, her arms buried in Scout’s fur, her cheek resting on the cat’s back.
“You had gymnastics. Your mom’s rule is baths before bed after activities.”
“Maybe tonight we can skip baths,” Aubrey said brightly. “Rules are made to be broken. Right, girls?” She winked at Sienna, who managed a crooked smile.
“A bath will relax them, and they’ll sleep better,” he said, trying to catch her eye, get her to present a united front.
“Auntie Aubba said we can skip,” Ginger said.
“Your parents put me in charge and I say you’re taking baths.”
“You can’t make us. You’re not our dad. Our dad is gone. This is our house. We own it. Now we make the rules.” Sienna was getting wound up, scaring herself, testing the limits.
He opened his mouth to say something firm, but Aubrey spoke up. “Have you girls ever seen a cat dive?”
The twins’ eyes zipped to Aubrey.
“If you take your baths, I bet I can get her to dive for you.”
“Really?” Sienna asked.
“Really. Scout loves water. We have lots of adventures in lakes and rivers.”
“You’re kidding,” Dixon said.
“I never kid about Scout the Adventure Cat, do I, girls?”
“Never,” Sienna chimed in. He noticed the little girl’s eyes were the same shade of blue as her aunt’s. They had the same noses and straight, red-blond hair, shiny as spun bronze. “Come on, Ginger.” Sienna bounded off the bed and headed out the door.
“Great diversion,” Dixon said to Aubrey. She’d shifted the girls’ attention away from the impasse. “Would you mind managing the bath? I should check messages. I turned off the sound so the girls wouldn’t hear anything upsetting before they knew. I likely got a call from the funeral director.”
“No problem.”
Aubrey headed after the girls, and Dixon tackled the machine, which had a message from the mortician, as well as tons from friends offering condolences, food and help, their voices full of shock. Rachel had done her job.
He’d torn off the note with the appointment time at the mortuary, when shrieks drew him down the hall to the bathroom. Were the girls fighting?
As soon as he walked in the door, he got hit in the crotch with a cup of warm water.
“Whoops, accident,” Aubrey said, but she’d clearly done it on purpose. The girls burst out laughing, which, no doubt, had been the point.
“It’s a water fight, Uncle Dixon,” Sienna explained.
“I can see that,” he said. There was an inch of water on the floor and the bath mat was soaked.
“Get her back,” Ginger said, holding out a plastic measuring cup brimming with soapy water.
“Hit me with your best shot,” Aubrey said, giving him the same grin she’d delivered on the cliff in Mexico when she’d dared him to jump.
“You look pretty wet already.” Her hair dripped appealingly, her shirt clung to her breasts.
Don’t stare. There are children here. Despite himself, he flashed on a memory of that night, carrying her back to her room, dripping wet, her silk dress all but transparent.
Forget that. Don’t think about that.
“You look like you peed your pants, Uncle Dixon.” Sienna pointed gleefully.
“Splash his legs so it looks like he was wading,” Aubrey said, clearly working to stay cheerful for the girls’ sake.
Sienna