That was why she’d given them custody of Grace, so her daughter would know how it felt to be loved.
Lexi looked down at her watch. It was not quite nine o’clock. How long did morning kindergarten last? Two hours? Three?
The bus for Florida didn’t leave until 3:30. That gave her several hours with nothing to do.
She could ride her bike around town or get something to eat or go to the library and read. But even as she ran through the list of things she could do, she knew there was only one thing she wanted to do.
Don’t do it. You made your choice. Think of Grace.
The arguments rifled through her thoughts, but she paid them no mind. She couldn’t, not this time. For every day of her daughter’s life, Lexi had pictured Grace happy and well adjusted. Loved and adored. That Grace she could make herself walk away from.
But this little girl, with her draggy feet and slumped shoulders … this little girl didn’t look happy.
“She is though,” Lexi said aloud. “Anyone can have a bad day.”
Still, she walked around the school, up past the portables, to the big playground out back. Here, confined within a chain-link fence was the elementary school play yard: basketball hoops and paved pads and grassy areas and a baseball diamond. She found a giant evergreen shadowing a patch of grass. There, she sat down and waited.
As the minutes passed, she told herself she’d misinterpreted what she’d seen, imposed her own sad school history on Grace. Her daughter was a happy girl—she had to be—the Farradays were the Bradys for a new generation. No one lived in the Brady house and felt lonely or unloved. She’d prove it to herself and then be on her way.
Around ten-thirty, a bell rang. The big double doors banged open and a herd of small kids ran out onto the playground.
Kindergarten recess. It was obvious. There were only about thirty kids, and they were so small. A pretty brunette woman in jeans and a red blouse supervised their play.
Lexi got to her feet, moving along the fence line.
Grace was the last one to come out of the school. She stood off to the side, alone. She seemed to be talking to herself. To the back of her hand, actually. The other kids laughed and played and ran around. Grace just stood there, talking to her watch.
Smile, Lexi thought. Please.
But Grace never smiled, not once, during that ten-minute recess. None of the kids talked to her, and she didn’t join into any of the games.
No one likes her, Lexi thought, with a stab in her chest. “Gracie,” she whispered, shaking her head.
Across the playground, Grace looked up, although she couldn’t possibly have heard her name spoken aloud. Lexi felt that look pierce her. Unable to help herself, she waved.
Grace looked behind her. Seeing no one there, she turned back to Lexi. Slowly, she smiled and waved back. Then the bell rang and she ran into the school.
Lexi could have lied to herself then, could have made up stories or tried harder not to care, but she didn’t bother with any of that. She didn’t want to rush to judgment, didn’t want to make a terrible mistake—again—but neither could she ignore what she’d seen.
Grace wasn’t happy.
No.
Grace might be unhappy, and that changed everything.
There would be an empty seat on the Florida-bound bus today.
Twenty
Grace sat in the backseat of the car, feeling very small.
“How was school today?” Nana asked without looking in the rearview mirror.
“Okay, I guess.”
“Did you make any new friends?”
Grace hated that question. Her grandmother asked it all the time. “I am queen of the kindergarten. Allison Shunt is making me a crown.”
“Really? That’s wonderful.”
“I guess.” Grace sighed. It was wonderful, for Stephanie, who really was the queen of the kindergarten. She stared down into the little magic mirror on her wrist, wishing Ariel would come to visit her, but the circle was blank.
Ariel, she mouthed. I’m lonely.
Nothing.
Grace rested her head on the car seat’s fluffy side and stared out the window, watching the big green trees blur past. They drove up one street and down another and around a big corner, and then they were home.
Nana drove carefully down the dirt driveway to the cabin.
Grace waited patiently to be let out of her car seat, and, once freed, she grabbed her backpack and followed Nana up the gravel path to their front door.
Inside, she heard Nana mutter something under her breath as she start picking up stuff. Nana didn’t like Daddy to leave clothes lying around, and she hated Gracie’s toys.