Chapter Text
Counting Stars
xx3xx
He spends the next three days, sun up to sun down, working at the Blake place. Along with T and the rest of the guys, he builds a deck fit for royalty while Tsu takes to following that little girl around like it's her job.
The invitation is cast aside and forgotten until the end of the week.
That's when Mrs. McLeod pays them a long, overdue visit and she brings along a surprise visitor.
"Who is it?"
"Ain't tellin'."
"Please?"
"Naw."
"Why?"
"Know the deal, Baby Girl. Talked 'bout it earlier."
"But…"
"No more but's. Tara'll be here any minute. Said somethin' 'bout a surprise of her own."
"A surprise? What kind of…"
"Patience really ain't your strong suit, is it?"
"S'not funny."
"Little funny."
"You look real nice."
"And your nose is lookin' mighty brown."
"Stop laughin'."
"Just teasin'. Don't mean nothin' by it. Say I'm sorry, will you forgive me?"
"Guess."
"You guess? You sayin' you won't?"
"Know I will."
"That I do. Know I love you?"
"Bigger than the stars in the sky."
"Way bigger. Never be able to count 'nough 'cause there's too many. Go on forever."
"And ever."
"Gonna be good? Help Tara keep everybody in line?"
"Yeah."
"That's my girl."
He never has to say much when Mrs. McLeod visits, although he knows the elderly woman loves to glean every bit of gossip that she can out of many an unwitting victim. No, he just listens. He's good at that, and it seems like that little girl across the street, Sophia? She's good at listening, too.
"Don't stop. M'awake. Promise."
"That what you are? Awake? Looks to me like you're studyin' the back of your eyelids."
"M'not."
"Don't be frettin' none, Baby Girl. Know Tara done tuckered y'all out. Rest. Ain't goin' nowhere, and in the mornin'…"
"M'kay."
"Sweet dreams."
She studies him with curious eyes, and he studies her right back, a slight curl to his lips, his fingers twitching against Tsu's head where it rests against his leg.
Mrs. McLeod, meanwhile, keeps doing her thing, prattling on about this and that between sips of lemonade. Apparently, the Peletiers aren't the only newcomers to the community. A rather peculiar man has recently moved in next door to her, and rumor has it, he's to work at the high school come Fall and teach science. His odd proclivities, according to her, are head-scratching. "But he seems harmless enough."
That's all he hears because he zones out shortly thereafter, his eyes still watching the little girl, polite in his presence and exceedingly cautious. Her careful demeanor strikes an uncomfortably familiar chord with him, one that takes him back years and years. He's so lost in the past, in fact, that he doesn't realize Mrs. McLeod has addressed him directly until she fixes him with that narrow-eyed stare of hers, and he clears his throat, offers an apology. "I'm sorry. I..." He sighs and rubs a tired hand over his face, absently fingers the whiskers on his chin that he hasn't bothered yet to shave. "It's been a long week."
"Sophia, Child. Why don't you take Tsu outside for some sunshine? I'm sure she'd appreciate it."
Hearing her name, the dog perks up, stretching and hopping from her comfy perch. She's already waiting by the door before the little girl has had a chance to climb to her feet, and she pushes her nose against the shiny knob.
"Don't go far."
"Know Tsu ain't lettin' her out of her sight." Nevertheless, he's up and looking out the window, watching as his canine companion herds Sophia toward the center of the yard, perfectly within his line of sight.
"Yes, well. You can never be too careful, can you? Sit, Boy. Speak."
A rare grin touches his lips at her instruction and he grabs one of the cookies from the tray she'd held when she arrived, lifts it to his mouth. "Ain't denyin' Tsu's family. Last I checked, though, I was still a man."
The old woman's mouth twitches with the hint of a reluctant smile, and she pushes herself to her feet, groaning softly as she does. One hand strays absently to her aching hip, and the other raises so she can wag her finger at him. "Don't be smart with me. I'm your elder."
His own smile softens. "Ain't that old."
"Tell that to my bones," she mutters as she joins him at the window, and they watch as Tsu flops to the ground and the girl, tiny and just as timid as you please, works her skinny arm around the dog's neck then rests her freckled cheek in the its speckled fur.
The sight tugs unexpectedly at his heart, and he blurts a question he hasn't realized he wanted an answer to. He's seen the girl around plenty of times, one or both of those two women from that first night, too. In all this time, though? He's yet to lay eyes on one very important person. "Where's her mama?"
" Well?"
"Well, what?"
"Where is she?"
"Who?"
"Princess Sophia's mama? She ain't in Heaven is she? 'Cause that would be sad. I don't like sad stories neither."
"Ain't you been payin' attention?"
"Yeah."
"Well, she ain't in Heaven if it makes you feel better."
"Does. Unless…"
"'Less what?"
"Unless she's in the bad place. She's not in the bad place, is she? Poor Princess Sophia."
"Hold your horses, Baby Girl. Take you a drink of that orange juice and calm down. Princess Sophia's mama is just fine."
"You promise?"
"Promise."
"Thank goodness."
"Bein' sad's a part of life, though. You take the good and the bad and you're thankful for it all."
"All of it?"
"All of it. It's the bad stuff makes the good stuff sweeter."
"Like bacon makes yucky eggs better?"
"Eggs ain't yucky."
"Don't want mine."
"Give 'em here and help clear the dishes."
"But I want to hear more of the story."
"Dishes first."
"Yes, Sir."
"Good girl."
He forgets the invitation. His mind is too full, too distracted by all he's learned by the time Tsu and Sophia have worn themselves out and Mrs. McLeod decides their visit has come to an end. That's when he gets a call.
It's the West Georgia Correctional Facility.
"Time for that 'sation yet?"
"Not yet. Looks like rain."
"You look sad. You sad?"
"Just rememberin'."
"Want me to kiss it better?"
"Ain't that kind of sad, Baby Girl."
"What kind of sad is it?"
"Hard to explain. Know what? I could use a few kisses. How 'bout right here?"
"Other cheek, too?"
"Other cheek, too."
"Mwah."
"Reckon the project can wait til the rain passes."
"More story?"
"More story."
The moon is high and bright in the sky that night as he sits on his porch steps, an unlit cigarette held loosely between his fingers. Tsu's off chasing a rabbit somewhere, and from the sounds of it, so are the rest of the neighborhood dogs. He's not too worried. She always comes back with nothing to show for it but a lolling pink tongue and a wagging tail. He's got other things to worry about, other things that threaten to consume him, at least until he sees the little sedan approaching. Somehow, he just knows. Before it's even making that right turn, he's up on his feet, screen door banging shut behind him. When he returns, he's holding that piece of construction paper between both hands and the cigarette's gone.
She's nothing more than a slender outline in the shadows, her arms burdened with bags and her hair curling against her neck from where it slips from her loose ponytail. Though his steps make little noise, she whirls to face him, her laugh thin and startled before her face then her posture relaxes. "The man with the dog."
"Got a name, you know."
"Try telling that to my daughter. I'm afraid all she remembers is your dog."
Her laugh this time is more genuine and holds a note of gentle apology, and he finds himself doing something quite unusual, at least in the female presence. The corner of his mouth curls, and he laughs with her. "Tsu's like that. Makes a lastin' impression."
"Definitely." She juggles the bags she's holding for a few seconds, then offers up a small, pale hand. "My name's Carol."
"The man with the dog."
Her eyes glow at him and she shakes her head, her teeth gleaming white in the darkness.
Their hands brush as he takes her hand and offers her the forgotten invitation, and he sucks in a sharp breath. His voice, when he finds it again, comes out in a soft, gravel-laced rumble. "Believe this belongs to your girl."
"I like this story."
"Like it pretty good myself."