Page 9 of Manny's Surprise Baby

I walked Mrs. Smith to the door, and she left, striding with purpose toward her car. I closed the door and faced Emily. She shifted uneasily and glanced up.

“Are you thirsty or hungry?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No.”

“Okay.” I cleared my throat. “I know this is hard on you. I’m sorry about your mom.”

A tiny hiccup of a sob broke from her lips, and she burst into tears. I had no idea what to do. I started to walk toward her, but she seemed to recoil, so I stopped and just stared at her, not knowing how to comfort her.

“Do you want to go to your room?”

She nodded.

“Okay. This way.”

She followed me down the hallway, watching me as if I was going to attack her or something. I pushed open her bedroom door, and she walked into the room slowly. This larger guest room was rarely used, and it wasn’t the prettiest room in the house. The walls were a stark white with no pictures, and the bedspread was a boring navy blue. When I’d decorated the room, it had never occurred to me a young girl would be staying in here.

She’d stopped crying and was now just staring at me as if waiting for me to leave. I felt so useless studying her sallow, tear-stained face. “If you need anything, just ask.”

She gave a quick nod.

“I have a manny coming to help watch over you. You won’t just be stuck with me all the time.” I was trying to make a joke, but it fell flat. I glanced at my watch. “He’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”

Please, for the love of God, Pierce, be punctual!

Emily still clutched her suitcase as she glanced around the room. “It’s bigger,” she whispered.

“What did you say?”

She swallowed. “This room is bigger than my old room.”

“Is that good?”

Shrugging, she said, “My old room was pink.”

“Well, we can paint this room any color you want.” The thought of being able to do something that made her happy filled me with joy.

“That’s okay. I don’t want to be any trouble.”

“No trouble at all.” I laughed gruffly. “No one ever stays in this room. That’s why it’s so ugly. I’m a horrible decorator. Maybe you can help me make this room pretty.”

She chewed her lower lip. “I’ll try.”

I pointed to her suitcase. “Is that all you have?”

“Yes,” she said softly. “Mrs. Smith told me to pick three of my favorite outfits and two of my favorite toys.”

“Why couldn’t you bring all of your things?”

“Because mommy died.” Her voice squeaked.

I grimaced. “I know, honey. But why couldn’t you still have your belongings?”

“Mrs. Smith said nobody wanted all that stuff. It was enough trouble just to find room for me in their life.”

I scowled. “She said that to you?”

She flinched at my angry tone. “She was nice to me. I don’t think she meant any harm.”