Free My Lucky Stars by Michele Paige Holmes Page A

Ellen pressed a finger to her lips then used her hand to smooth away the hair from Cadie’s forehead. “We talked about this, sweetheart. I know it’s hard. But it’s what we needed to do. And tomorrow we’ll be with Daddy again. We’ll be in our new house. And all your things will be there.”
    Instead of responding positively to her mother’s soothing words, Cadie reacted with anger, trying to hit and kick her mom while alternately sobbing and yelling.
    Tara looked on, her decision to never have any children solidified. But Ben did more than watch. He strode forward and plucked Cadie right from the floor and her temper tantrum.
    He carried her across the room to the bar separating the family room and kitchen. Setting her down on the high counter, he leaned forward, one hand on either side of the hysterical child.
    “Cadie.” His voice was firm. “Stop crying and look at me.”
    She shook her head.
    He straightened and backed up, as if ready to walk away. Cadie’s response was immediate, her slender arms reaching out to him. But Ben didn’t move any closer. Tara watched, wondering what he’d do next. For the second time that evening, she found herself captivated by family drama.
    At the store earlier, she’d been baffled by the attitude of the family as they made their simple purchases. The children had been happy and excited—grateful, even, as she’d heard several thank-yous as they watched the cashier ring up their toys and clothes. The parents had seemed happy too, though how they could be—living in such destitute circumstances that they had to shop at a place like that—was beyond her.
    It had been such an odd moment, an odd experience—unfathomable a few days ago. But there she’d been, Tara Mollagen, in a thrift store in Utah, watching a poor family and being struck with the realization that they were happy . While she was not. She wasn’t even just un happy. She was miserable. It had been enough to bring tears to her eyes—again.
    She’d tried to figure out why, to get a grip and decipher what was wrong with her, as she tried on jeans alone in the dressing room. And the realization she’d come to had hit painfully. She wasn’t sad because she was buying used jeans—though that certainly didn’t make her list of great experiences. Nor was she miserable because she was in Utah—though that wasn’t great either. She was depressed because her life was disappointing. Because nothing ever changed. Because she did the same things year after year after year, and no one ever noticed or cared. None of it mattered.
    I don’t matter . . . to anyone.
    I don’t matter to anyone. The sentiment repeated itself in her mind as she watched Ben and Cadie. The little girl obviously mattered to him—or Ellen did at least, as he was taking the time to help out with her daughter. But Tara sensed it went beyond that and that he really did care about his niece, a six-year-old whom he saw infrequently.
    He wasn’t her father, and Tara wondered if he should have even interfered. She glanced at Ellen and saw that she’d moved on to tucking in her two younger children. She didn’t appear to mind Ben’s assistance. Tara swung her gaze back around to Ben and Cadie, who was now sniffling.
    He stepped closer to her, speaking in a quiet tone. Tara strained to hear what he was saying. Sure. Talk all nice to the bratty kid. But when you were talking to me earlier . . .
    “Here’s the thing, Cadie,” he said. “Do you have a mom?”
    She nodded.
    “Does she love you?”
    Nod.
    “Lots?”
    Bigger nod.
    “And do you have a dad who loves you lots too?” Ben took another step toward her.
    “Yes.” Cadie’s voice trembled.
    “That’s right,” Ben said. “And you have a brother and sister who love you. And two dogs, and a bunny.”
    “And a crab and fish,” Cadie added, starting to perk up a bit.
    “I’m sure they love you too,” Ben said. “And they’re all traveling with you to Denver. And you’ll