Her Family Wish

Hannah coughed as a wave of chalk dust drifted toward her. “If so, it seems to be a new habit of his.”

It wouldn’t continue to be a habit. After today, she couldn’t imagine either of them finding anything agreeable to talk about. Two people who constantly offended the other had no reason to be around each other. Authority figure or not.

Students began filing into the room, and Hannah shot Sophia a look, silently agreeing to finish the conversation later.

As Abby took her seat in the front row, eyes sparkling with anticipation, a twinge of guilt flitted through Hannah’s stomach. She’d inadvertently caused trouble for the young girl. It seemed only fair to warn Abby of what she would face after school.

* * *

“Abby, do you mind staying a minute?” Hannah kept her voice low so the other students wouldn’t hear her request and assume the girl had done something wrong. Sophia had excused herself after dismissing the class, allowing Hannah space to have their pending conversation—and they’d have to hurry, since Jude was surely used to Abby meeting him directly after school.

Abby looked up from packing her backpack and offered an unsure smile. “Sure, Ms. Hart.” She zipped the bag and tucked the straps around her shoulders. “What’s up?”

Hannah sat on top of the desk across from Abby’s. “There’s something you should know.” This wouldn’t be easy. The rock that settled in Hannah’s stomach seemed proof enough of that. She swallowed, wishing she’d minded her own business from the start and not put either of them in this position.

“What is it?” Abby picked at a star sticker she’d put on the top of her otherwise bare hand. No chipped fingernail polish coated her nails, no rings sparkled on her fingers, no bracelets bunched at her wrist like almost every other girl in the class. Abby obviously knew she was different, or she wouldn’t have deliberately broken her dad’s rules to try to fit in.

Hannah could relate to being left out. Maybe she hadn’t felt that way as a teenager, but as a woman, it still wasn’t easy. The stares, the instant flickering of eyes from her own gaze to her cheek. The curiosity lingering in people’s voices, hinting at the question no one dared to ask.

No—never easy.

A wave of compassion washed over Hannah, and she leaned forward, coaxing the younger girl to meet her gaze. At least Abby’s struggles were superficial instead of permanent, as easily removed in the time it took to change clothes or untie a braided plait of hair. But as far Jude was concerned, Abby didn’t necessarily have those choices.

“You know those pictures I took at the park?”

“Yeah?” Abby cleared her throat. “I mean, yes, ma’am.”

Hannah briefly closed her eyes. Such manners on such a sweet girl—why on earth was Jude so particular about her appearance? It didn’t make sense.

Hannah forced a smile. “Some of them really turned out well, and I ended up making a few copies for you.”

Abby nodded, even as her gaze turned questioning, guarded, as if she could see what was coming.

Hannah shifted positions on the desk. Man, she hated being in the middle of this. Abby’s deception should have stayed between her and her dad, and if Hannah hadn’t had gotten involved with that silly picture, she wouldn’t be sending the girl off to the parental guillotine.

She drew a deep breath before continuing. The moment of the truth. “I gave one to your dad before class.”

All the blood drained from Abby’s face and she stumbled backward a step. “You did?” Panic highlighted her delicate features, and she bit down so hard on her lip Hannah halfway expected to see blood. “Was he—was he mad?”

“He was…surprised.” Hannah chose her words carefully, then sighed. No more lies; that’s what got Abby into this mess in the first mess. “But yes. He seemed upset—mostly because you snuck around. He seemed to think you know better than to wear makeup without permission.”

Abby closed her eyes briefly. “I know I shouldn’t have.” Then she locked her gaze with Hannah’s, eyes shiny with pending tears. “But I’m so tired of being a baby.”

* * *

Abby’s heartfelt admission tore at Jude’s heart, and he rested his forehead against the door frame of Sophia’s classroom, allowing the cool metal plating to calm his temper. He’d hurried to meet Abby after the final bell, ready to walk her straight to the car so he could dole out a much-pondered punishment for her deception over last weekend.

Until her confession pierced his conscience.

Was he pushing her so hard in the opposite direction of her mother that she’d eventually come full circle around the other side?

Jude’s stomach clenched, and he eased away from the door. Hannah shouldn’t have warned Abby about his discovery, though he guessed in Hannah’s shoes he’d have felt guilty, too. Still, did anyone trust him to do things his way for his own daughter?

Maybe his dream of having a big family needed to die. He already struggled to be a good father to the kid he had. Still, growing up as an only child hadn’t been fun. He wanted Abby to have siblings, to be a part of a big family unit she could feel safe in, rely on. Her childhood had been sketchy enough—she deserved stability. Love. Loyalty. It was already too late for a sibling to be close enough in age for her to play with, but she could easily take on the role of protector for them one day. Teach them things, show them the ropes of life.

Assuming Jude didn’t let her fall along the way.

A student hurrying down the hall, probably hoping to catch their bus, scurried past Jude, reminding him he shouldn’t be standing in the hallway imagining things that probably would never happen. He took a step toward the door, then hesitated, Abby’s distressed voice ringing in his ears. She’d been wrong to lie, but he wouldn’t embarrass her further by openly admitting he’d overheard her private conversation with Hannah. He’d back up a few steps and clomp in that direction so they’d have warning.

But Hannah’s soft response stopped him so fast, his loafer squeaked against the linoleum.

“Looking a little different doesn’t make you a baby.” Her gentle voice carried through the quietness of the now deserted hallway. “Besides, no matter what you wear or what you paint on your face, you’re a beautiful girl.”

A warning bell dinged in the back of Jude’s mind. Abby didn’t need frequent reminders of her appearance. Jude knew—from common sense, and from the dozens of parenting books thrust his way in the aftermath of his wife’s desertion—the importance of showing his daughter her worth. But he wouldn’t do that through overly praising her outward appearance and putting ideas in her head of how to abuse that beauty. She had to already know how stunning she was, anyway. Any daughter of Miranda’s had no choice to be otherwise. She didn’t need confirmation.

“I am?” Abby’s voice sounded so tiny Jude almost missed it. A fist landed in his stomach and he sucked in a hard breath. She honestly didn’t know? Impossible. But Abby wasn’t the type to beg for compliments. Beg for attention, maybe, or beg to get her own way—never for praise. He’d made sure of that growing up.

Sudden uncertainty gnawed a hole in Jude’s heart. Had he made sure of too much?

“Of course you are!” Hannah sounded as surprised as Jude felt. “Makeup wouldn’t change that one bit. What’s important is what’s on the inside.” She paused. “And disobeying your father is pretty ugly.”

“I guess I never thought of it that way.”

Jude risked a peek around the door frame, just enough to catch Abby absently scuffing the toe of her shoe against the floor. She wasn’t making eye contact with Hannah, but she was listening.

That was a whole lot further than he’d ever gotten with her.

Why did Abby push him away, yet take the same exact advice from a near stranger? The woman factor must play a bigger part than he realized. Jude ducked back around the corner and ran one hand over his hair, the gelled strands sliding through his fingers. Abby needed an older friend, some sort of constant female presence in her life. Someone to do the girl-talk thing, someone to give a viewpoint on life and morals that wasn’t his own repeating, broken record.

She needed a mom.

The thought broke a cold sweat on the back of Jude’s neck.

He didn’t want to be alone his entire life, and he truly wanted Abby to have sisters and brothers one day.

But out of all the women he’d casually dated over the past few years, there hadn’t been a single one who’d ever come close to prompting thoughts of marriage. Or, for that matter, there’d never been one whom Abby looked at as she’d looked at Hannah—with respect. Sincerity. Admiration.

The exact same things Jude saw in Hannah, despite his lingering aggravation at her interference.

Jude rubbed a hand down his jaw. Apparently the budget stress was affecting him worse than he’d thought. Marriage and Hannah in the same sentence? He’d barely met the woman, and already they’d offended each other twice. He’d seen the look on her face when she stormed out of his office—in the week they’d known each other, he’d given her more reasons to laugh at him than accept an offer of a date. No, that was out of the question.

Jude licked his suddenly dry lips, a rare sense of panic seeping into his soul as Hannah’s soft spoken clarifications of real beauty continued. She definitely had a handle on the concept of beauty that Miranda never had. But he needed to break up the little union forming inside before things got heavier, before Abby got even more attached.

Or before he did the same.

Chapter Five

Heavy footsteps preceded Jude into the classroom. Hannah hopped off the desk as if she were a student getting busted. She knew it’d be a matter of time until he showed up, but she still couldn’t help the twinge of sympathy as Abby’s face fell. The younger girl turned slowly to face her fate, head up, gaze down.