Vickie had said. “I miss you and thought we could spend some time together. Maybe at the new spa in Del Mar?”
Claire hadn’t returned the call yet, although she knew she should. Vickie might stop reaching out altogether one of these days, and Claire couldn’t blame her if she did.
Friends like Vickie didn’t come along every day, but the pain of being around a happily married woman with healthy children was a bit too much for Claire to handle.
But Mr. Klinefelter? The old man who hung out at the park?
“I’ve met him a time or two,” Claire admitted to the child. “And we’ve chatted, but I wouldn’t call him a friend.”
Analisa nibbled on her bottom lip, then zeroed in on Claire. “But do you know how to play chest? ”
“No, I’m afraid not.”
“That’s too bad.” The girl’s shoulders slumped, and her brow furrowed.
Claire suspected she’d been hoping to find an opponent for Walter. Or, more likely, she’d been expecting God to provide one, and she’d hoped Claire had been duly appointed.
“Ham, turkey, or pastrami on rye?” Sam asked, drawing Claire’s attention from her musing.
“Turkey, please. But only half. Maybe someone else can share with me.”
“Look at the size of those sandwiches,” Hilda said. “We’ll be able to feed an army with the leftovers.”
“Like I said…” Sam tossed Claire a crooked grin. “I forgot who I was ordering for. Besides, I’m hungry.” Then he reached into the box for the sodas. “I’m afraid I only purchased three drinks at the deli, but if Hilda has any paper cups, we can make this work.”
“I brought herbal tea for myself, so those three sodas will be plenty for you.” Hilda slipped her hand into a large canvas tote bag, and her smile soon morphed into a grimace of perplexity. “Oh, dear. Where’s my thermos?”
“Did you leave it in the car?” Analisa asked. “Like last time?”
Hilda faltered momentarily, then brightened. “Maybe so.” As she got to her feet, she added, “You all go ahead and eat. Please don’t wait for me.”
After the elderly woman headed for the parking lot, Analisa bent forward and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Sometimes she forgets stuff, and I have to remind her.”
Sam didn’t seem too concerned about the comment, but Claire, who’d been privy to the child’s pleas to God, wasn’t so sure. Children didn’t always have a grasp on what was going on in the adult world, yet Analisa seemed to be unusually aware of everyone around her, including the grown-ups.
As they sat at the picnic table and began to unwrap sandwiches and pass out chips, fruit bowls, plastic forks, and napkins, Claire couldn’t help but steal a glance at the child. The doll she held, a brown-haired baby with tan skin and dark eyes, was a bit tattered and worn, but in a Velveteen Rabbit way.
“You have a nice baby,” Claire told the girl. “What’s her name?
“Lucita.” Analisa carefully propped her doll on the table, so that it sat beside the sandwich. “She used to belong to my friend, Soledad. But when Uncle Sam came to get me at Rio del Oro, and we had to leave, Soledad gave her to me.”
“Analisa has plenty of dolls at home,” Sam said, “all brand-new. But she prefers that one.”
“That’s because Soledad loved her so much.” Analisa caressed the scraggly brown hair, then offered Claire a smile. “Me and Soledad didn’t used to like each other. But when Mommy died, I had to stay with her family for a while, and she was nice. So we made friends. Then, when my daddy died and I had to go with Uncle Sam, we cried and cried. Soledad said that since she still had her parents and I didn’t, she wanted me to have Lucita. So I have to take really good care of her.”
An ache settled in Claire’s chest. Did Sam realize Analisa had lost not only her parents, but a friend, too? A child who’d given up her prized possession to the little girl she’d never see again?
Had he made arrangements for the
Claire hadn’t returned the call yet, although she knew she should. Vickie might stop reaching out altogether one of these days, and Claire couldn’t blame her if she did.
Friends like Vickie didn’t come along every day, but the pain of being around a happily married woman with healthy children was a bit too much for Claire to handle.
But Mr. Klinefelter? The old man who hung out at the park?
“I’ve met him a time or two,” Claire admitted to the child. “And we’ve chatted, but I wouldn’t call him a friend.”
Analisa nibbled on her bottom lip, then zeroed in on Claire. “But do you know how to play chest? ”
“No, I’m afraid not.”
“That’s too bad.” The girl’s shoulders slumped, and her brow furrowed.
Claire suspected she’d been hoping to find an opponent for Walter. Or, more likely, she’d been expecting God to provide one, and she’d hoped Claire had been duly appointed.
“Ham, turkey, or pastrami on rye?” Sam asked, drawing Claire’s attention from her musing.
“Turkey, please. But only half. Maybe someone else can share with me.”
“Look at the size of those sandwiches,” Hilda said. “We’ll be able to feed an army with the leftovers.”
“Like I said…” Sam tossed Claire a crooked grin. “I forgot who I was ordering for. Besides, I’m hungry.” Then he reached into the box for the sodas. “I’m afraid I only purchased three drinks at the deli, but if Hilda has any paper cups, we can make this work.”
“I brought herbal tea for myself, so those three sodas will be plenty for you.” Hilda slipped her hand into a large canvas tote bag, and her smile soon morphed into a grimace of perplexity. “Oh, dear. Where’s my thermos?”
“Did you leave it in the car?” Analisa asked. “Like last time?”
Hilda faltered momentarily, then brightened. “Maybe so.” As she got to her feet, she added, “You all go ahead and eat. Please don’t wait for me.”
After the elderly woman headed for the parking lot, Analisa bent forward and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Sometimes she forgets stuff, and I have to remind her.”
Sam didn’t seem too concerned about the comment, but Claire, who’d been privy to the child’s pleas to God, wasn’t so sure. Children didn’t always have a grasp on what was going on in the adult world, yet Analisa seemed to be unusually aware of everyone around her, including the grown-ups.
As they sat at the picnic table and began to unwrap sandwiches and pass out chips, fruit bowls, plastic forks, and napkins, Claire couldn’t help but steal a glance at the child. The doll she held, a brown-haired baby with tan skin and dark eyes, was a bit tattered and worn, but in a Velveteen Rabbit way.
“You have a nice baby,” Claire told the girl. “What’s her name?
“Lucita.” Analisa carefully propped her doll on the table, so that it sat beside the sandwich. “She used to belong to my friend, Soledad. But when Uncle Sam came to get me at Rio del Oro, and we had to leave, Soledad gave her to me.”
“Analisa has plenty of dolls at home,” Sam said, “all brand-new. But she prefers that one.”
“That’s because Soledad loved her so much.” Analisa caressed the scraggly brown hair, then offered Claire a smile. “Me and Soledad didn’t used to like each other. But when Mommy died, I had to stay with her family for a while, and she was nice. So we made friends. Then, when my daddy died and I had to go with Uncle Sam, we cried and cried. Soledad said that since she still had her parents and I didn’t, she wanted me to have Lucita. So I have to take really good care of her.”
An ache settled in Claire’s chest. Did Sam realize Analisa had lost not only her parents, but a friend, too? A child who’d given up her prized possession to the little girl she’d never see again?
Had he made arrangements for the
Similar Books
