Legend (Arizona Vengeance 3)
Page 61
Smiling to myself, I rough out a rendition of little Princess, still a yellow, fuzzy gosling, taking a nap on the reedy bank of the pond they live on while her parents look for her.
A tiny ding indicates I have a text message which comes through on my iPad. I exit my drawing program and pull up a text from Legend.
It’s simple and it makes my heart flutter.
I miss you.
I don’t hesitate with my feelings. I miss you too. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.
He writes back. I’m on the bus heading to the arena. You’re going to watch the game?
If you’re playing, always, I text him.
I wonder what he’ll write back but a shadow falls across my table. I look up and almost can’t comprehend the fact that Lida is standing there, looking down at me.
“Can I join you?” she asks in a tremulous voice. “Just to talk for a minute.”
I calmly tap the button on the top of my iPad to close the screen. I don’t want her seeing my message exchange with Legend.
I want to say no to her request to sit down, because I shouldn’t be having contact with her.
More than anything, I want to run because clearly she’s been stalking me. We’ve never been introduced but she’s seen me twice before, both times intervening to keep her from Charlie. The first time, she saw me walking from my house to Legend’s, which means she knows where I live. The fact she’s standing here means she followed me from my house.
I glance around, taking in the mom with two children sitting at the table next to me, completely oblivious to the potential drama that could occur.
My eyes go back to Lida and her face is pinched with anxiety but her eyes are begging me to listen to her.
Hoping I don’t regret it, I motion with my hand to the chair adjacent to me.
“Thank you,” she says softly as she takes a seat. She’s wearing a pair of jeans rolled at the cuff, a white T-shirt, and a navy blazer. Oddly, her buff-colored suede loafers give her an air of normalcy for some reason, maybe because I’ve seen her in ridiculously high heels on the two prior occasions. Her hair is pulled back in a conservative low hanging ponytail and her make up is understated.
Sitting her purse on her lap, she gives me an apologetic smile. “First, let me apologize for following you here. I know that must seem crazy, but I’m going out of my mind missing my daughter.”
“I’m sorry,” I murmur, feeling the tiny pull on my heartstrings.
She gives me a sad smile. “I know he named her Charlotte Elise. My attorney showed me the legal papers. It’s a beautiful name.”
“Everyone calls her Charlie,” I find myself offering and then kick myself mentally. Legend may not want her to know those things, but I’m not sure it really hurts anything, especially since I let her name slip before.
Excitement flares in Lida’s eyes and she leans forward expectantly. “Really? That’s adorable and I’ll call her that too. What else can you tell me?”
I shake my head and hold my hands up. “I’m sorry, Lida. But I’m not sure I should be talking to you about this. I think Legend is the person—”
“Legend won’t talk to me.” She reaches over and lays a manicured hand on my arm. “But maybe you could hear me out…make him see that I’m better now and fully capable of being a mother.”
I have to wonder if this is a desperate attempt to circumvent the courts or does Lida really think I’d be willing to help her in opposition to Legend?
“Look…we don’t know each other,” I tell her firmly, but with what I hope is a note of understanding. “It’s not my place to get involved in this.”
“But you are involved,” she says knowingly.
We enter into a staring contest and I can’t figure out what she has actually learned about me. Clearly she knows where I live and she’s been watching my house. She’s followed me. But does she think I’m just a helpful neighbor, or has she been spying on me enough to know that Legend and I are a couple?
“Pepper,” she says as she leans toward me, and I know she’s been spying on me a lot if she knows my name. Probably went through my mailbox. “I made a grave mistake. I know that. But I truly was sick, and while I am not offering that as an excuse, I’m pointing out that I’m better now.”
“Then I’m sure the court will take that into consideration,” I tell her as I pull my arm out from under her hand.
“Yes,” she agrees with a vigorous nod. “But until then, I need to see my daughter. My heart is breaking not being able to hold her. And she should have a mother, don’t you think?”