Loving Piper by Charlotte Lockheart Read Free Book Online

had been all the problems between Piper and Manny. Would her little girl have felt she could stop fighting the world if her early days had been more tranquil. These reflections on the past usually led Piper to the discouraging feeling that she had been a poor mother. Now she recalled an article she’d read recently suggesting many mothers were critical of and regretful about their own parenting skills. Good, that was good news. She wasn’t alone. It was strange how being a part of a group, even one that was nothing to strive for, was reassuring.
    Piper closed her eyes, let her head drop to the back of the chair and listened to the gentle, regular breathing coming from the neighboring couch. The sound of a child sleeping was soothing. You could market it, she thought, and billboards advertising the product began a slow parade through her mind, small puffs of child breath rising and scattering as the procession moved forward.

Chapter Four
    OH, LORD. ROB stood in the doorway of the TV room, unable to move. He could do no more than stand there, gripping his briefcase, watching as a tidal wave of longing flowed over him, through him. For a moment he felt he would be physically swept away. A woman and a child. They looked so natural, so beautiful, as if they both belonged exactly where they were. He wanted his old life back. He leaned against the doorjamb for support and closed his eyes.
    This was not Sandra and Jennie. He breathed deeply and lowered the case to the floor. Two steps forward, one back, stay quiet and wait. Remember where he was, who he was, state facts, unemotional facts. That always helped…eventually. The overwhelming sense of loss began to give way to balance. He held his stance, physically and emotionally, remained still, eyes closed, focused on breathing.
    When he knew he had regained control, he slowly opened his eyes and took in the scene before him.
    Jennie’s mouth was slightly open as she lay curled into a tight ball on the couch, asleep and breathing quietly. She’d arranged her plush chicks around her, and the big rooster he’d won for her at the Canadian National Exhibition last September was stuffed into the corner of the couch, its large beak and comb leaning over Jennie. It was the only prize he’d ever won in a contest pitting him against a carnie machine, and he’d surprised himself, been ready to make a straight cash offer to the carnie. He knew how much Jennie had wanted the pink and green rooster. Brocky, she’d named him, after the rooster in Chicken Run . Now, perched above her fair hair, Brocky looked like a kind of primitive headdress.
    Then his eyes moved away from the couch and fastened onto Piper, who lay sprawled in his favorite chair. She looked different, more peaceful, certainly, than she had running out of the house earlier. Twice in one day, he had viewed her sleeping. The somnambulant state was a transparent one, he thought, noting her rag doll posture and the smooth skin across her forehead and around her eyes, as though she had dropped into the chair and not moved since. One arm hung down, her fingers fanned out gracefully.
    After Piper had moved into the apartment, she’d moved into his head. For the three weeks she had lived there, he’d been preoccupied with her, and annoyed with himself. He knew too little about her to be so focused on her. And he didn’t want to know more. He’d done his best to steer clear of her, successful for the most part. He continued to study her from across the room. His mental image of her had been more alluring than he’d wanted it to be, though he hadn’t wanted any image, not even a dowdy one. Unfortunately, in real life, rather than not living up to his fantasy, she surpassed it. Real life… He sighed, noting that each of her features seemed ordinary. If he were to dissect her features, describe them to an impartial observer, his report would be unexceptional. Lips normal shape and size—not too big, as if she’d had surgery,