Prince Charming Wears A Badge. Lisa Dyson
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satisfy her hunger and Tyler wouldn’t be upset about her being around his daughters.
There was a knock on her door.
“Come in.” She’d been reclining on the love seat by the window when Tyler opened her door and entered. She immediately sat up, her feet touching the floor.
“Hi.” He stood right inside her doorway, his hand on the doorknob. He wore his work uniform that somehow still looked fresh. It was black pants and a short-sleeved white shirt with epaulets, a gold badge on his breast pocket and an embroidered patch on one sleeve. His tan made him look even better in that short-sleeved, white dress shirt. Although not a look you’d find in GQ.
“Hi.” She clenched and unclenched her fists, not wanting to reveal how she felt about him not wanting her around his girls. Although, maybe he’d changed his mind and that was why he was here.
“I wanted to let you know that, for the next two days, your service hours will be at the community center. Poppy said everyone enjoyed having you today and they are spending the next two days doing a deep clean on the building.”
Great.
When she just looked at him, not saying a word, he continued. “Then on Friday, they open the center to serve dinner to those in need. So you’ll be cooking or doing whatever they need you to do.”
She still didn’t speak.
“Any questions?”
She shook her head.
“Is there something wrong?”
Should she ask him the question burning in her gut? She spoke before thinking it through. “Why don’t want me around your girls? What are you afraid of?”
He stepped farther into her room and turned away to shut the door for privacy. When he turned back to face her, his expression was serious.
“My girls have been through a lot before we came back to Whittler’s Creek. I don’t know the details of your arrest, but I know it had to do with malicious destruction of property.”
“That’s the charge, but I didn’t do it. I just have no way to prove my innocence.”
“That might be true,” he said, “but I can’t forget that you had quite a reputation for being a hothead when you were growing up here.”
Callie straightened. “A hothead?” What was he talking about? Her hands clenched so tight that her short nails dug into her palms. As a young child, she’d vented her frustration, but she’d soon learned that behavior only made matters worse. “Who told you that?”
“It doesn’t matter. Besides, I saw your temper for myself.”
“Are you talking about the night before I left for college?” Was he kidding?
“Yes. The night I walked you home after that party and you yelled at your stepmother.”
He was basing his opinion of her on that one night?
She spoke as calmly and deliberately as she was able. “First of all, that was eleven years ago. Second, I finally yelled back at my stepmother because I’d had enough over the years and I knew I was leaving the next morning.”
“What about the chair you threw?”
She narrowed her eyes. “What chair?”
“I stood outside your house to make sure you were okay when I heard all the commotion. That’s how I heard the argument between you and your stepmother. At one point, I heard a crash.”
“Why would you think I threw a chair?”
“After the crash, I heard your stepmother yell that you would have to pay for the chair you broke.”
“But you didn’t see me break it, did you?” She reminded herself to breathe, in and out, in and out.
“No, but you can’t deny what I heard.”
“That’s true. Those were my stepmother’s exact words.” Callie swallowed before admitting more to Tyler than she had to even her therapist. Like how her stepmother had blamed Callie for the broken chair because she’d claimed Callie had made her angry enough to throw it.
Luckily for Callie, she’d learned as a young child how to duck from flying objects when her stepmother became enraged.
“FROM YOUR RESPONSE, there’s obviously more to the story,” Tyler said to Callie. “Why don’t you tell me what actually took place?”
“You believe your version of events that night, so hearing mine won’t change your mind.” Callie spoke without emotion.
“I don’t understand.”
“That makes two of us.” She rose from the love seat. “I’d really rather not talk about this. You can believe what you want. Just know that I’d never do anything to upset or hurt your daughters.”
He nodded, deciding to drop the subject for now. Someday soon he’d love to circle back to it, wondering how she would reconcile what his sister, Isabelle, had told him about Callie’s hot temper. Or maybe he needed to speak to his sister about it next time they talked. Had she exaggerated Callie’s disposition? If so, why?
He checked his watch. “I need to make sure the girls get their dinner. Please don’t skip coming to dinner because of what I said yesterday.”
He left her room then, confused by their conversation. He still wasn’t ready to have her be around his girls when he wasn’t there, but their brief interaction had brought up more questions about her.
He went down the hallway to speak to his daughters, but they weren’t in their room. He entered his own room and quickly changed from his work clothes into shorts and a T-shirt. Then he headed downstairs in search of his daughters.
“Hey, girls, wash up for dinner.” He arrived in the kitchen to see both Alexis and Madison sitting patiently at the table.
“We already did, Daddy,” Madison told him, raising her hands, palms outward, to show him.
“Yeah,” Alexis added. “We’ve been helping Aunt Poppy with dinner and we always need to wash our hands before we do anything in the kitchen.”
“Good rule.” Tyler grinned. “So you two cooked dinner?”
The girls giggled. “No, Aunt Poppy cooked,” Madison said. “We just set the table and got ice for the glasses.”
“The water pitcher was too heavy for us to pour it.” Alexis was very serious as she explained.
“I’m glad you’re helping Aunt Poppy.” He glanced at his aunt taking a tray of roasted asparagus from the oven. “Just don’t get in her way.”
“Oh, they’re not,” Poppy told him over her shoulder. “They’re good helpers.”
“Glad to hear it.” He turned to the girls again. “Tonight is our appointment with Dr. Patty.”
“Yay! I love going there!” Madison was bouncing in her seat. “She has fun toys.”
“Okay, then don’t fool around during dinner so we’re not late for our appointment.”
“Appointment?”
He spun around to see Callie had entered the kitchen.
“The girls and I have a weekly appointment on Tuesday evenings.” Just like she didn’t want to talk about the past, he wasn’t ready to confide the reason his girls needed to see a therapist once a week.
“We like Dr. Patty,” Alexis told Callie. “And if we don’t want to talk about our mommy, then we don’t have to.”
Callie