Just Get the Jeep.
For the past few days, Carina had been absentmindedly obedient in everything she did. She spoke very few words, broke no rules, and made little to no eye contact. Matt had watched her closely and when he wasn't around, he had Esme keep an eye on her. Outside of work and meals, Carina could only be found at the threshold of her dollhouse.
"Carrie, honey," Esme's melodic twang came from the doorway but didn't come in, "are you alright?"
All Carina did was look up as Esme, force a smile, and nod.
"Use your words, honey," Matt had told Esme not to allow Carina to just gesture for the things she wanted or use nods and headshakes as viable answers. So, Esme followed Matt's directions and usually requested words of Little Carrie.
"I'm fine. Thank you," Carina's words but a whisper, "Esme?"
The older woman stopped to look at her, Esme's brows arched in concern.
"Could you please shut the door?" Carina's voice still a whisper. Esme nodded and shut the door behind her before stalking downstairs to Matt's office.
Matt sat at his large desk, chair facing the bay window that had an expansive view of a mountainscape. A scene most would only ever see on postcards or calendars and here it was Matt's front yard.
"Matthew David!" Matt nearly came out of his skin at the sound of Esme's indignant voice. He turned to see her there, arms crossed and face grim. This conversation wasn't going to end well for him.
"Christ Almighty, Esme," he looked at her, "is there a portion of my property on fire?"
Esme didn't laugh. Shit, this was bad.
"What did you do to that girl Matthew?" Esme stood waiting.
"Still with the full name," Matt grimaced, "so I'm in deep shit. Good to know."
"I've got no time for this Matthew David, now out with it," there were very few people on this earth who could get away with talking to him like that and walking away without a few bullet holes riddling their middle section.
"I might have made an insensitive comment the other day during punishment," Matt picked up an empty .50 caliber round a friend of his had given him and moved it between fingers.
"Whatever it is you THINK you may have said," Esme's face anger flushing her cheeks, "has probably got more to do with that you DID with that gentleman the other night and LESS to do with the nonsense that falls outta your mouth." Now her hands were planted firmly on her hips.
"Now, look," he got stuck for a minute as all of the pieces began to fall into place, "Since when did you start caring so much about the littles that come through this house?"
"Since now," Esme shook her head at him, "You know something, Matthew Jensen, for a smart man, you do some sincerely dumb shit." And with that Esme stormed out, slamming the door to his office behind her.
Matt sat stunned and slightly chided, not only at his on realization but at what just happened, "Well, I'll be damned. The woman knows a swear word."
***
Dressed in light blue overalls, a purple thermal shirt, teal converse, and her hair in what had become her signature braid, Carina sat with her face braced in one hand and her other tucked under a thigh. Matt had noticed that she was even less for words this morning than usual. Even when Esme had placed a plate of silver dollar pancakes in front of her, Carina hadn't bothered with a smile.
"Carrie," Matt called for her attention. She let her hand fall while turning to look at him, still not a word, her face expressionless.
"Are you upset?" he questioned eyes still on the road.
"You called me Carrie," that had almost come out as a question.
"Isn't that your name little one?" a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Carrie nodded, "But you usually call me Carina."
"That's because you're usually in trouble," Matt chuckled, Carina let out a minor smile.
He made a right turn into a dealership filled with SUVs, trucks, and Jeeps, not a single car graced the lot. He pulled into a parking spot near the very front of the newly renovated glass building. She noted he had a habit of needing to be first in line and closest to the door.
He put the truck in park, removed the keys from the ignition, and turned to her, "Well. The way I see it you're not here to be Carina. Carrie is the 8yr old running around my house and who I had a dollhouse made for." Matt's eyes searched hers.
Carina looked back at him with a pained look.
"The only time you'll probably ever hear me call you Carina again is if you're in trouble and even then, I'll probably holler Carina Michelle if you're in serious trouble." He let his left hand linger on the steering wheel. He tried to reassure her
or maybe he was reassuring himself.
