Belonging by Samantha James Read Free Book Online

instant there was a faint look of
alarm in her eyes.
    Sudden noises always affected her like that.
They had for quite some time now. Angie knew better than to make an
issue of it, however. She knew from experience that Kim would only
clam up and retreat into that somber mood that disturbed her mother
so.
    Instead, she shook her head. "Casey must be
into the cookies again. Try to keep her out of them so Mrs. Johnson
doesn't have to do too much cleaning up after her, okay?" Mrs.
Johnson lived next door and stayed with the girls in the evening if
Angie had to be away. She was a spry and active sixty-year-old, the
type who was there with a cloth before a drop of water could ever
hit the floor. She was wonderful with the girls, but Angie worried
about Casey wearing her out.
    Kim nodded obediently. One bare toe nudged a
braided rug in an oddly uncertain gesture that tugged at Angie's
heart. She sensed that Kim hadn't come solely to tell her Mrs.
Johnson had arrived.
    "All right, young lady, out with it," Angie
said cheerfully. She pulled Kim over to the bed, then sat down
beside her.
    At Kim's silence she squeezed her daughter's
shoulder reassuringly. "Hon, you can tell me anything."
    Angie lowered her head and added in a
conspiratorial whisper, "Mommy doesn't bite like Spooky does."
Spooky was the family cat, a silver tabby who was rather
independent and aloof. Nonetheless, Kim and Casey adored her. When
she was in the right mood, she didn't mind the girls playing with
her. But when she wasn't, she didn't hesitate to let them know. And
unlike other cats, instead of scratching she tried to bite.
    Angie's words earned a tentative smile. Then
wide brown eyes turned up to her. "Mommy, is Todd coming here to
pick you up?"
    Her anxious whisper wasn't lost on Angie. If
Todd and Angie were going to the same social function, he often
picked her up at home beforehand and drove her home afterward.
Sometimes he stayed for coffee.
    But the concern Angie had felt such a short
time ago at Janice's surfaced once more. "No," she explained,
"Todd's been on vacation all week." Knowing Kim's normal reaction
to men, Angie really hadn't thought much of her behavior. But for
the first time she wondered if the child hadn't been more
withdrawn than usual around Todd. She almost asked her if she
disliked him and why, but Kim's face had lost its worried
expression.
    Angie's eyes lingered speculatively on Kim as
she moved from the bed. At the dressing table she picked up a
bottle of perfume and shyly asked if she could use it.
    "Of course you can," Angie replied
readily.
    When she left the house a short time later,
however, she couldn't help but be reminded of the child Kim had
once been—so lively and vivacious, much like Casey. But after Evan
died, Kim had retreated into her own little world, a shadow of her
former self. It was so bad for a time that Angie had considered
taking her to a child psychologist. Then, little by little, Kim had
begun to respond once again. But she wasn't the same child she'd
been before Evan's death. Angie suspected much of it stemmed from
the sense of loss she'd felt over losing her father. It saddened
her that both of them, mother and daughter, carried scars because
of Evan.
    For a moment she almost hated her dead
husband. Even from the grave he hadn't lost his ability to hurt
her.
     
    ***
     
    Matt stood in the shadows just outside the
French doors that led to the terrace. There was a thoughtful air
about him as he leaned one broad shoulder against the doorframe and
gazed into the crowded banquet room.
    He hated affairs like this; they triggered
unwelcome memories of the endless parties Linda had always
insisted he attend with her, parties filled with frivolous chatter
and plastic people. Granted, this wasn't on the same grand scale
and the people weren't all affluent Chicago blue bloods. But the
fact remained: if he wasn't the guest of honor, he wouldn't have
come tonight. He'd have much preferred to spend the