Sure enough, the minute Anne Marie unlocked the door Baxter rushed forward, leaping up and down with excitement.
“Baxter!” Despite the anguish of the evening, Ellen couldn’t hide her delight at seeing the dog again. She fell to her knees and the terrier welcomed her, licking her hands and face.
“Ellen’s spending the night,” Anne Marie told him. Turning to the girl, she said, “Let me show you your bedroom.”
“Okay.” Reluctantly leaving the dog, Ellen followed Anne Marie through the apartment.
The second bedroom, which served as Anne Marie’s home office, wasn’t set up as guest quarters. But thankfully she had a sofa that folded out into a bed. Taking a set of sheets from the hall closet, she quickly made it up and added a couple of blankets and a pillow.
“Would you like some warm milk?” she asked when the bed was ready. “It might help you sleep.”
Ellen made a face and shook her head.
“Sounds dreadful, doesn’t it?” The only reason she’d offered was that her own mother used to give it to her. She hadn’t liked it, either.
“Would it be okay…” Ellen hesitated.
“What is it, Ellen?”
“Could Baxter sleep with me?”
Anne Marie smiled. She should’ve suggested it herself. “That would be just fine.”
“Thank you.”
Anne Marie yawned. She was exhausted and knew Ellen must be, too. “Let me tuck you into bed,” she said, “and I’ll put Baxter up there with you.”
“Thank you,” Ellen whispered. She slipped off her sweatshirt and slippers and climbed into the newly made bed.
Once she was under the covers, Anne Marie folded them around her shoulders. She set her Yorkie on the bed. As if understanding that the child needed a friend, Baxter immediately curled up next to her.
“Good night, Ellen,” Anne Marie said, about to leave the room.
“Would you say a prayer with me?” the child asked.
“A prayer?” Anne Marie couldn’t remember the last time she’d prayed.
“Grandma always does.”
“All right, but you say the words.”
“Okay.” Ellen dutifully closed her eyes and although her lips moved, she didn’t speak out loud. After a moment, she said, “Amen.”
“Amen,” Anne Marie repeated.
“I prayed for my grandma,” Ellen told her.
“I’m sure God listens to little girls’ prayers,” Anne Marie said, choosing to believe that He did. She turned off the light, then realized she didn’t know when Ellen was supposed to be at school. “Ellen,” she whispered. “What time does school start?”
“Eight-twenty.”
“I’ll set the alarm for seven. That’ll give us plenty of time.”
“Okay.”
Anne Marie left the room and eased the door partially closed so she’d hear if Ellen needed her during the night. She found a night-light for the bathroom and plugged it in.
Sitting at her small kitchen table, Anne Marie inhaled a deep, calming breath. Elise Beaumont had a lot to answer for—and she planned to let her know it. This Lunch Buddy business had become a far more complicated proposition than Anne Marie had been led to expect.
She liked Ellen and she was happy to help—well, happy might be an exaggeration. She felt obliged to help, especially since the child’s grandmother claimed she didn’t have anyone else to ask. But in the morning, Anne Marie was driving Ellen to school and getting the name of the contact person listed for emergencies.
This was standard practice. The school would have the name of a responsible adult who’d take Ellen while her grandmother was in the hospital. Someone far more qualified than Anne Marie. Someone better equipped to look after a frightened child.
Anne Marie had her own problems. And as much as she wanted to help, she wasn’t prepared to be the child’s guardian for more than one night.
Chapter 12
Anne Marie woke before the alarm buzzed at seven and discovered Ellen sitting up in bed petting Baxter and talking to him in a voice that quavered slightly.
“Good morning,” Anne Marie said as cheerfully as she could. She stretched her arms high above her head.
Ellen didn’t respond.
“Would you like some orange juice?”
The girl shook her head.
“Are you sure?”
Ellen nodded.
“I’m going to take Baxter for a short walk. Do you want to come?”
“Okay.” Ellen climbed out of bed and sat on the floor, where she’d left her backpack. While the child got dressed, Anne Marie prepared a pot of coffee and put on a pair of sweat pants and a fleece top.
Her usual morning routine was to take Baxter out while the coffee brewed, getting a few minutes of exercise at the same time. Their route never varied: down Blossom Street for two blocks, crossing over to a small park, going around the park twice and then back. The entire walk took twenty minutes. Once she was home again, Anne Marie always showered, changed clothes and did her hair and makeup. On a good day, everything could be accomplished in under an hour.
Ellen was ready by the time Anne Marie finished her first cup of coffee and pulled on her jacket.
“Would you like to hold the leash?” she asked.
“Yes, please.”
As they headed outside, she asked Ellen a few more questions but the girl remained glum and uncommunicative. She wanted to ask Ellen what was wrong but figured it was obvious. The poor kid was worried about her grandmother, of course, and her own future. Anne Marie couldn’t blame her for that, so she decided to tread carefully. If Ellen didn’t want to talk, she shouldn’t have to.
“When I take you to school this morning, I’m going to see the school counselor,” Anne Marie said as they returned to the apartment.
“Okay.”
“Do you have any relatives close by?”
“My aunt Clarisse.”
That was a big relief, although Anne Marie had to wonder why Ellen’s grandmother hadn’t called her instead. Of course, there could be any number of reasons. Clarisse might’ve been out of town or at work or not answering her phone or…she ran out of excuses.
Anne Marie was confident that as soon as Clarisse learned that Dolores had been hospitalized, she’d be eager to have Ellen. Some of the tension left her now that she had the name of a responsible adult who’d step in and take care of the child.
When they entered the apartment, Anne Marie checked her watch. Twenty-four minutes so far. That was good, especially with an eight-year-old in tow.
“What would you like for breakfast?” Anne Marie asked as they stepped into the kitchen.
Ellen shrugged.
“I don’t have any kid cereals, but I do have shredded wheat. Would you like that?” Ellen had to be hungry, since she’d gone without dinner the night before.
“Okay. Thank you.”
While Anne Marie got two bowls, the cereal and milk, Ellen made her bed and brushed her hair. It was straight and dark, parted