Lily and Brock at 343 Harper's Cove, Page 2

  “Yes, baby?”

  “Can I come in there with you. I’ve missed you.”

  “Okay. Come on in here.” When I step through the doorway, he’s standing there in nothing but his underwear, looking in the closet for a pair of jeans. “You can sit on my bed if you want,” he tells me without turning around, and I watch him as he pulls things out and puts them back. He finally threads a pair of jeans on those long, strong legs and then grabs a tee shirt out of the drawer. “Now, let’s get on this dinner thing and get it done.” He reaches for my hand and I take his. That simple alone act makes me feel safe.

  And then I remember. “Oh! I found out something today. Could we sit down? I need to tell you something,” I whisper.

  “Okay. Will it take long?” I shake my head. “So climb up on the couch.” Once he’s seated beside me, he smiles. “Now, what’s this all about?”

  “Well, they delivered all of my stuff today. It’s in the backyard. And when I was carrying the boxes out, I met a neighbor lady.”

  I see the instant look of alarm on his face. “You didn’t tell her anything, did you?”

  “Oh, no, sir. I would never do that! No, she just told me her name. Tasha Hogan. And her husband’s name is Davis. She has a fancy job in the city and he works for a toy company!” I say and giggle.

  “That would be a great job to have, huh?” he says and reaches for me, so I climb into his lap and rest against his chest.

  “I think so. But she told me about this lady in the neighborhood named Gloria. She’s nosy,” I tell him.

  “So you’ve been gossiping with the neighbors?” he asks, and I hear that disapproval in his stern voice.

  “No, sir! No, she told me that this woman named Gloria peeks in people’s windows and through their fences. And she drinks alcohol. You know, she gets drunk,” I add.

  He’s quiet for a few minutes. Then he says, “Well, I suppose we should put up a big privacy fence.”

  “That’s what I was thinking. And make sure we have good window coverings.”

  He nods. “Sounds like that’s exactly what we need. And we’ll have to be careful going in and out of the house if you’re dressed up.”

  “Yes, sir. I thought you would want to know. I wasn’t gossiping, really, Daddy. She was just being nice to tell me that we should watch out, that’s all,” I say again, afraid I’m going to get in trouble.

  “Honey, it’s okay. I understand now. And yes, I’m glad she told you. Those are the kinds of things we need to know.” He takes a minute to hug me to him and kiss my hair. “Let’s get dinner cooked and then we’ll go out and look at the stuff they brought today,”

  “Yay!” I cry out. I’m so excited! There’s supposed to be a swing and slide and all kinds of things. I can barely wait.

  “So are we supposed to put this together?” I ask, staring around at all the parts. It looks impossible.

  “No!” he laughs. “I’ve got a crew coming to do it. But now it sounds like I need to talk to them about a fence too.”

  I nod. “I think so. I mean, we need to be very careful if she’s snooping around out here. She sounds like the type who could cause us some trouble if―”

  I jump about a foot when my comment is interrupted with, “Hellooo! How are you?” I turn to find a woman rushing toward us, her face flushed and her hair a bit wild. “I was hoping I’d catch you so I could introduce myself!”

  She doesn’t have to. I know instantly who she is.

  “Hello,” Brock says, turning and smiling, and I can tell by the look on his face that he knows who she is too. “It’s nice to meet you. You are―”

  “Gloria,” she huffs, out of breath from running toward us. “Gloria Livingston. I live down the block. I’ve been seeing you coming in and out as you were moving in. I knew the Pucketts who lived here. They were nice people. It’s great to see some new faces in the neighborhood.”

  “Thanks. This is my wife, Lily, and I’m Brock. Owens,” Brock tells her and extends a hand.

  “Pleasure to meet you!” she says, not wheezing quite so hard and taking his hand. Once she’s shaken it, she does the same with me. “I just thought I’d run over and say hello. Oh, and my husband is Russell. He’s over at the house doing something, I’m not sure what. Probably out in the garage. He’s not as friendly as I am.”

  Translation: Not as nosy as you are, I tell myself, and I’m pretty sure I’m right. “Well, thanks for coming over. I’m sure you’re busy,” I tell her, trying to find a way to extricate us from what I’m pretty sure is going to become a detective’s interrogation session just any minute. Wait for it, wait for it ….

  “So what have you got here? Opening a daycare?” she asks, her eyes full of mischief.

  And there it is! I knew she was about to come out with something. It sure didn’t take her any time at all. She must’ve had this all planned out before she came down here. “Well, um, actually …” I start.

  “Actually, we have several friends whose kids come to visit from time to time,” Brock says. Well, that’s not really a lie―we have several friends who have Littles and they do come over to play when they can. Having them over is always fun. “We thought we’d make this an inviting place for them to play when they’re here.”

  “Well, now, isn’t that nice?” she says with a smile. “A playground for friends’ children! I bet they don’t have any other friends who’d do that.”

  “Most of their other friends already have kids. We’re hoping this will encourage them to come over more,” Brock offers. And that’s not a lie either. We’re hoping our friends come over more often so all of us Littles can play together. Of course, if this snoop is going to hang around, that won’t be possible. Why does there always seem to be a complication?

  “Brock, sweetie,” I say, trying to think of some way to get away from her, “we’ve got those steaks laid out in the kitchen and I need to get the vegetables on to cook.”

  “Oh! Yes, we do. We need to get back inside and get dinner cooked. It was nice to meet you, Gloria. Please tell your husband we said hello,” Brock says, turning me toward the house with his hand in the small of my back.

  “I’ll be glad to. It was nice meeting you too,” she calls out as we climb the back steps and head on into the house.

  When the door closes behind us, I turn to Brock and shake my head. “Oh my god, we’ve seen the devil and he’s right here in our midst.”

  “Yeah. She’s going to be a pill. I can tell that already.” He leans against the counter and folds his arms across his chest. “So it’s got to be a good fence, nice and high and no peep holes.”

  “Right.”

  “I’ll get on it first thing Monday. Better yet, if you don’t mind, get online and look up some fence companies, and then give me the list.”

  “I don’t mind at all. When do you want me to do it?”

  He gives his head a tired shake. “Right now. Don’t worry about dinner. I’ll cook it all. If you find some pretty quick, come back out here and help me.” Suddenly, I feel exhausted, like someone opened a valve and let all the air out of me. I guess he catches it because he says, “Lily, don’t let this rattle you. We’ll take care of it, I promise.”

  I nod. “Okay. I trust you. But I’m scared, Brock. If she causes trouble for us, then―”

  “She won’t. We’ll just have to be very careful. But the installers can go ahead and put the equipment together. Since she’s already been here and heard our explanation, there’s no reason why that can’t be done. Then the fencing crew will be able to come in and put the fence up.” I’m still staring at the floor when he says, “Hey.”

  “Yeah?” I answer, my face turning toward his.

  “It’s going to be okay, baby. All we have to do is stick together.” He reaches for me and draws me up against him, and I’m comforted by the warmth of his skin through the thin shirt.

  Do your worst, Gloria Livingston. Daddy will take care of me.

  4

  Glori
a

  “And they said they’re putting all that stuff in for friends’ kids. Do you believe that? I don’t―not for one minute!”

  Russell huffs at me from behind the newspaper. “Gloria, I’ve told you and told you, leave the neighbors alone. I mean, you’ve rattled some cages and gotten into some trouble. You’d think that would be enough to keep you from bothering them.”

  “I’m not bothering them! I just went over to introduce myself. We should all be neighborly,” I snort back at him.

  “I’m guessing you asked about the stuff in the back yard?” he asks.

  “Well, of course.”

  “See? You’re already meddling.”

  “I am not! I mean, what if they’re pedophiles or something?” I retort.

  “Good lord! Do you hear yourself? You sound ridiculous. According to you, every couple in this neighborhood is perverted!” he barks out.

  “Well, they are!” I practically shout.

  “You think going to bed without socks is perverted,” he snaps.

  “I do not! That’s just ridiculous.”

  Russell shakes his head. “I was trying to be ridiculous so you’d hear how ridiculous you sound.”

  “Well, thank you for that, for making fun of me when I’m trying to be serious.” If he’s trying to make me mad, he’s doing a great job.

  He stands there and glares at me, then says, “I’m going down to the hardware store. I’ll be back later.”

  “In time for dinner?” I ask.

  “Yeah. In time for dinner,” he calls back over his shoulder as the door closes behind him.

  As I pull things out of the pantry, trying to figure out what to cook, I see a bottle in the back. Blueberry vodka. Wonder what I could do with that?

  After dinner, I go out front to water everything. I have a few rose bushes, a couple of big, beautiful hydrangeas, and some caladiums that are real show-stoppers, if I do say so myself. I’ve got the prettiest yard in the neighborhood, so I’m not sure why I never seem to win the “house of the month” award from the civic beautification board. Last month it was that house over there in Hanover Crossing. I mean, they all look exactly alike, so how did they win the award? I think that’s just terrible. I take such good care of mine.

  I’m almost finished and it’s getting dark when I see a car pull in over at the new neighbors’ house. I’m pretending I don’t notice them when they get out of the car, but boy oh boy, I couldn’t miss that. She’s got an enormous stuffed animal in her arms. That thing is huge. I can’t really tell, but I think it’s a bear, like a teddy bear. Whatever it is, it’s got a ribbon around its neck, and it’s bright purple. Wow. As they walk up to the house, she’s petting the thing like it’s a real animal. Good grief, is there something wrong with her? That’s just weird.

  I pretend to keep working, but I watch them out the corner of my eye. When they go inside, I turn off the water and put the hose away, then head into the house. “Russell,” I say when I finally find him in the sunroom, “those people came in and that woman was carrying the biggest stuffed animal I’ve ever seen in my life. I mean, it was big enough that she could dress it in people’s clothes. That big.”

  “Um-hmmm,” he grunts at me from his magazine.

  “A huge stuffed animal, Russell. I think it was a bear, but I’m not sure.”

  “Okay,” he says that time and just keeps reading.

  “And it had a sub-machine gun and a suicide bomber vest on,” I throw out there to test him.

  “Is that right?” he says, flipping a page.

  “God help me, Russell Livingston! You’ve not heard a word I’ve said!” I shriek at him.

  He finally looks up at me. “Yes. I have. What I heard you say was, ‘Russell, I’ve been spying on the neighbors again.’”

  “I have not! They came home while I was out watering the plants!” I yell, then stomp off toward the stairs. I might as well just brush my teeth and hair and go to bed, for all the attention he pays to me.

  When I’m finished getting ready for bed, I grab a word search puzzle book and climb under the covers. I hear the TV downstairs click off and look at the clock. Yep, the nightly news just went off. The puzzle I’m working on is about halfway done when he finally climbs the stairs. Without a word to me, he disappears into the bathroom, so I finish the puzzle, scoot down in the bed, and turn off my bedside light. It’s only a few minutes before he joins me, and he doesn’t say a word, just crawls into bed and turns off the light. I wait, but he says nothing. There are about a dozen things I want to say, but I know better. He doesn’t care to hear them, so there’s no point. He thinks all these people around us are saints, but I know better. They’re not.

  They’re all freaks.

  5

  Lily

  That Gloria woman was out in her yard when we came home, and I hope she didn’t see us. I warned Brock, but I don’t think he realizes how bad she is.

  Still, I was overjoyed with my teddy! There’s this place, Cheesy McWhee’s Palace, where we go sometimes. It’s usually on a week night during the school year so there’s almost nobody there. It’s this kids’ place where they have these big mechanical farm animals dressed like people who stand on the stage and pretend to play musical instruments, and there are tables all around. You can order burgers and dogs and fries and pizza, and out in the front is this giant game arcade with all kinds of games and things you can play, and Daddy is really good at skee-ball. Every time we go, he wins something for me, and this time it was my giant teddy bear! He offered to take me to the toy store to just buy a toy, but I love it when he wins one for me. It makes me feel so special! I wore my little denim skirt with the plaid ruffle around the bottom and my little polo shirt, red with plaid trim and collar, and my denim sandals. Daddy likes it when I dress like that. I had on ruffled panties too, and he let me wear a bra. I feel like a big girl when I wear a bra. He said, “Angel, put on a bra or your nipples will show and other daddies will be looking at them. And I want to be the only daddy to look at them.” So, of course, I put one on.

  When we get in the house, I go straight to my room and find a place for my bear. He’s really big, so I make him sit on the floor beside my bed. I brush my teeth and hair and put on my pajamas. I’ve been sitting quietly when Daddy opens the door. “I want you to come into my room, angel,” he says, pointing down the hallway.

  “Yes, sir,” I tell him. I know what’s about to happen. Sometimes daddies have things they need to do with little girls, and sometimes little girls like to play with daddies that way. When I get to his room, he smiles. “Do you want me to take off my pajamas, Daddy?” I ask him.

  “Yes, angel, I do.” I take off my pajamas and when I look again, Daddy’s taken off his pants and underpants too. “Come here,” he tells me as he sits down on the edge of the bed. He helps me climb up until my knees are on the bed and I’m sitting on his lap, facing him. “What would you like for me to do with you?” he whispers to me.

  “I want you to touch me on my naughty parts like you do sometimes,” I whisper back. “I’m a very bad girl sometimes.”

  “You won’t tell, will you?” he whispers against my neck.

  I shake my head. “No, sir. I won’t tell. You can spank me if I do.”

  “Good enough. Rise up on your knees like a good girl.” He grabs my hips and positions me right before he says, “Now sit down on me.”

  His great big boy part goes right straight up into me and I squeal out, “Oh! That hurts, Daddy!”

  “Hurts good, huh, angel?” he groans.

  I moan out, “Yeah. It hurts really good. Please, more?”

  “Yes, baby,” he tells me, crooning to me, and I want him to touch me so badly. When he finally does, I let out a yelp and I can’t keep my back from arching as his fingers work magic on my tiny nub. “Like that, little one?”

  “Oh, yes, Daddy. Please, more.” His movements are intense, making me shake and cry out, everything inside me tensing. “Oh, please, Daddy, plea
se?” I hear myself calling out, and finally it’s like something snaps loose between my legs and it’s pulsing. “No, Daddy, no more!”

  “Okay. Now lie down on the bed like I showed you,” he tells me, and I scamper to do what he says. The air feels good on the places between my legs, and I wait until he kneels there. “Get ready. This may hurt, but it’s for your own good,” he tells me, moving closer to me.

  He puts it in me and it hurts so, so good. Then he moves it in and out and it stops hurting and feels very good. It feels better and better until I do that same thing again, where my belly shakes, and I like it. When he’s finished, he lies on top of me for a little while, then wraps his arms around me and rolls me over with him. “Was I good, Daddy?” I whisper, still a tiny bit out of breath.

  “Yes, angel, you were very good.” The kiss he drops on the tip of my nose makes me smile. And I’m even happier when he says, ‘I love you, Lily. My life is perfect with you.”

  I can’t help but cry a little. “Oh, Brock, you’re the best daddy any girl ever had,” I tell him and kiss those gorgeous, kissable lips. My fingers stroke through his hair and I hear him sigh. “Grownup sex now?”

  He chuckles. “Yeah. Grownup sex now. I wanna make love to my woman. Do you know how lucky I feel to have found you? That was the luckiest day of my whole life.”

  Looking into his eyes, I hope all the love and respect I have for him can be seen there in my own. There’s no doubt in my mind: This man would lay down his life for me. He wouldn’t hesitate. I feel loved and nurtured like I never did growing up. My whole life, all I heard was bickering and arguing and fighting, things being thrown, hurtful words tossed around, and all I could do was hide and hope they didn’t come after me next. It’s why I love Brock the way I do. It’s why I’ll do anything for him just to see him smile at me. It’s why I’m so thrilled that he’s never raised his voice to me or struck me without me knowing it was just part of play.