Healing (General's Daughter Book 5) Read online

  “Through marriage only. Monique is blood related. She’s six,” Michael explained. “Jen, please help the family however you can. We might need you to be Sam’s voice of reason if those girls start with her.”

  “Oh, I’ll be a voice of reason. With my foot up their asses.” Jen sneered.

  Dr. Quimby squeezed her hand. “No, I want my girls to be ladies and show that you have manners and class. No fighting, swearing or acting in any way that I would consider unbecoming. Sam, this means watching your mouth, okay?”

  “I’ll try. That’s all I can promise. They are not getting my bedroom.”

  “With Mike staying at the Q, Cecily can have Rich’s room and Cherell and Monique can share Mike’s. Scott? I’m sorry; buddy, but I really need your support. Please stay here.”

  “I won’t promise not to fight.” He growled again. Storm growled as well, ears laid back.

  “I’m only expecting you to be a gentleman. We are flag officers; we have enough experience and class to pull through this obstacle without floundering. Can you do it? For me?”

  “I’ll try,” Scott grumbled, distracting himself with Storm.

  “I’m going to be spending a lot of time diving,” Sam added.

  Jen elbowed her. “And leave me on dry land on bitch patrol? No way.”

  “Kids, please. Let’s just support each other through it. Pretend it’s a special assignment,” Dr. Quimby requested, looking wary.

  “We will, Dad. Promise. Right, girls?”

  “Yes, Michael. We’re here for you, Daddy,” Sam said, eyeing her brother. He knew her thoughts. There would be trouble.

  Randolph Riley stood arrogantly, gazing around the huge house with scorn on his face.

  “You would think that having a double income would mean buying something a little more suiting,” he commented, handing his bags to Dr. Quimby.

  “It suits us fine, Randolph. Penelope, would you like to sit down? Can I get you anything to drink?”

  “No thank you, Joseph. Where are your children?” The tall, slender brunette sat gracefully on the couch, joined by the three girls who stared silently at the large open living room and ocean view. They, at least, were impressed, Dr. Quimby mused.

  “On their way home from work. Girls, could I get you anything?”

  “Do you have Coke?” Cecily asked. Dr. Quimby nodded. “That would be fine, thank you,” she said snobbishly.

  “I’ll have some as well,” Cherell added.

  Monique stood up, looking way up into Dr. Quimby’s eyes. “Uncle Joe? Could I please have some juice?”

  His heart melted and he smiled, reaching down to pick up the little six year old girl. “I would be very happy to get you some juice. What kind?”

  “Apple, please.”

  At least one of them had some manners. “Would you like to help me?” the man asked, gazing into her large eyes.

  “Yes. Mama, can I go help?”

  “Go.” The child was dismissed with a wave of a finely manicured hand.

  Dr. Quimby carried the little girl into the kitchen, placing her on a bar stool as he put together the drinks.

  “I like your house, Uncle Joe. It’s really pretty.”

  “Thank you. You know I’m your cousin, not your uncle, right?

  “You look like an uncle so you are,” the child said firmly.

  Dr. Quimby laughed. “Fine by me. You look a lot like your cousin Sammi. She has red hair like you.”

  “Cecily says I look like a strawberry. Cherell says I’m just plain ugly.”

  “That’s neither nice nor true. I think you are very pretty; you just need to grow into your legs. Here you go.” He handed her some apple juice.

  She thanked him, sipping thoughtfully. “Cecily said Cousin Samantha is a mean, old bully. You won’t let her hurt me, will you?”

  “Sam? A bully? The only time I’ve even seen Sam bully anyone is if they were being mean to a little kid or an animal. You’ll like her. She’s very sweet and a lot of fun. I promise.”

  Monique contemplated his words and nodded. She then followed Dr. Quimby back into the living room and handed out the drinks.

  Randolph sniffed. “Do you have any beer?”

  “I do. Would you like one?” Dr. Quimby said patiently, glancing at the clock. If the family was taking their time, he would personally make each one of them pay! He heard the cars drive in as he handed Randolph a beer and sighed with relief. Noisily, they all entered the house.

  “We’re home. What’s for— Oh, hello, Randolph,” Scott said, eyes immediately growing cold. Monique hid behind the couch, frightened by the tall, menacing man with icy blue eyes and a hard face.

  “Scott Jenkins. Penelope, you remember the Jenkins boy,” Randolph said dismissively. Michael and Sam glanced at their uncle, stunned that Randolph had the audacity and disrespect to refer to their fifty-six year old uncle as a boy. “You certainly have grown, Michael. Samantha, you have not. You obviously inherited the faulty genes from the other side,” Randolph commented, looking down his nose at Sam.

  “Let me introduce you to the rest of my family,” Dr. Quimby interjected, seeing his daughter’s eyes flash. “This is Jennifer Carter and Richard Lewis. Jen lives with us and is a sophomore at UCSD. Richard is an officer and my lead engineer. Jen, Rich, this is Cecily, Cherell, and Monique, who is hiding behind the couch.”

  “FYI, Jen is Mike’s girlfriend and Rich is my boyfriend and our field partner.” Sam glared heavily back at Cecily. She then saw the little redhead hiding behind the couch. “Hi, Monique. Why are you hiding? Come out, I don’t bite. Not unless you bite me first.”

  The child timidly left her hiding place, trembling as she shook Sam’s hand. “You don’t look mean, Sam. I like how you smile. And he looks really nice, like cousin Mike,” she whispered, pointing to Rich.

  Rich squatted down, his green eyes warm and inviting as he held out his large hand. “It’s good to meet you. I bet Sam looked just like you when she was your age. You’re gonna be a heartbreaker.”

  Monique melted, flinging her arms around Rich’s neck. “Thank you, I want to be pretty like her so I can get a nice boyfriend too.”

  “Put that child down, Mr. Lewis. She doesn’t need coddling or false hopes,” Randolph ordered as Rich picked up the little girl. Confused, he obeyed, but let her stay close to his leg, stroking the unruly red hair.

  Sam felt her brother bristling next to her, and touched his arm. “We promised to help Daddy,” she whispered. “They will be gone soon.”

  Very little was spoken as Sam and Jen helped the girls settle in after the boys departed for base. Randolph and Penelope were walking on the beach while Dr. Quimby and Scott made dinner. Jen elbowed Sam as she saw Cecily, the eldest, admiring her image in a large mirror. She was 5’9” and built much like her model-mother, with luxurious, wavy dark brown hair and brown eyes and a constant sneer plastered upon her pink lips. Cherell ducked her head, not daring to share a glimpse of herself in the same mirror as her older sister. She was thin and shapeless, with mousy brown hair, watery brown eyes hiding beneath thick-framed glasses, and an equally sour expression upon her lips.

  Rich had been right about little Monique. Like Sam, she had inherited the true coloring from her distant Irish heritage. Her thick, flame red hair framed a slightly freckled pale face and her hazel eyes were accented by long, dark lashes. She would grow to be a heartbreaker, without doubt.

  “Whose room is this?” Cecily asked, glancing around after primping herself.

  “Rich stays here when he visits,” Sam commented. “It also has an ocean view.”

  “Rich’s room, huh? He’s a looker. Why would he go after you?”

  “Cecily, I’m really trying to be nice and polite. I’m sure you’re no happier about this arrangement than I am, but I’m warning you. Touch my man and all bets are off. I don’t care how much trouble I get into with my father; I will not have you throwing yourself at him.” Sam glared up at her.

  Cecil
y patted her on the head. “Still the little fireball, aren’t you? He looks a little too old for you, don’t you think? We should give him the chance to hang around a real woman.”

  “You’ve been warned,” Sam snarled, walking out.

  Jen met her in the hallway. “That bitch! She informed me that I was too fat and ugly for Mike. She also said Monique wets the bed and we should make her sleep on the floor like the dog. That poor kid is downstairs crying,” Jen growled.

  Sam hugged her. “You are certainly the most perfect girl for Mike and you know it. You have these, too,” Sam pointed to Jen’s breasts and bottom, “which you KNOW Mike loves to chew on. She has nada.”

  “Bitch.”

  “I know. That one is already out to jump Rich. Let’s find Monique. Imagine having to live with the horrid, evil stepsisters. Monique? Where are you?” Sam called. No answer. Sam thought about her favorite hiding places, especially when sad or scared. “Jen, let Daddy know what’s going on. I’ll find Monique.”

  She walked into the downstairs hall and took a left into the first room, the office. She loved this room. Wood, leather, books, the smell of Captain Black pipe tobacco from when Scott occasionally indulged, their colognes… It was truly a man’s room and her secret sanctuary. Sam rested on the edge of the large dark desk, crossing her arms. She heard sniffling from underneath.

  “When I was little, this was my favorite place to hide when I was sad. May I join you?”

  “Y-yes,” came the little voice.

  Sam climbed under the desk with her, giggling. “Look! I’m still small enough to fit. What’s going on?”

  “I have nowhere to sleep. And I don’t wet the bed. Ever.”

  “I believe you. Would you like to stay with me? I have a pretty big room and lots of stuffed animals to hug,” Sam said sweetly.

  Monique looked at her with red eyes. “Why do they say you’re ugly? I think you’re beautiful.” Monique sniffed.

  Sam hugged her close, “Some people, like your sisters, aren’t very happy inside and they think if they make other people sad, they would feel better. We can’t do anything about it except be who we are.”

  “I think you’re prettier than they are.”

  “Life isn’t about who is prettiest. Not real life anyway. Being pretty starts from inside of you. When you grow up, you’re going to be beautiful, especially if you let that start in your heart. My daddy and uncle have always told Mike and me that the prettiest people in the world are those who love and who are loved. We have a lot of that.”

  “Mike must have more, though.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Look how big he is!”

  Sam laughed, patting the girl’s leg. “Daddy used to say Mike got to be so tall because he always ate his vegetables while I didn’t. I really think he’s that way because he had to keep up with Daddy and Uncle Scott. You know how boys are. They always have to win contests.”

  “Yeah. Is he mean? He looks like he can be scary, like Uncle Scott.”

  “Mike? Oh no, he’s the best big brother I could ever want. And my dad and uncle are the best parents a girl could ask for. I’m very happy.”

  “Papa says they’re gay.”

  “Do you know what gay is?”

  “When two men love each other like a boy and girl.”

  “Not that it matters, but they are not gay. Scott was my mother’s older brother. When she died, she had Scott promise to stay with us. He also took care of my dad when he was little after his mom and dad died. Scott’s a very special man.”

  “He looks mean.” The child shuddered.

  Sam kissed the top of her head. “Scott can be grumpy sometimes, but never mean. He is also very protective. He doesn’t like people talking badly about his family.”

  “Oh. Uncle Joe is really nice.”

  “He’s my hero. I think he’s the best Daddy in the whole world.”

  “I wished I lived with you. My papa doesn’t want me around.” The child sounded sad.

  Sam didn’t know what to say. She knew Monique’s birth was unplanned and that it had upset Randolph’s hopes of traveling the world with his younger, wealthy wife. He was such a scumbag. She chose wisely to change the subject.

  “Let’s get you settled into my room. Monique? Promise me that if you have any problems, you’ll come straight to us and we’ll help you. Jen, too.”

  “And Rich?” Monique looked hopeful. Sam laughed, nodding. A six year old had a crush on her boyfriend.

  With Monique sound asleep in her big bed, Sam went down to Scott’s room, tapping on his door.

  “Who is it?”

  “Me, Uncle Scott.”

  “Come in, baby,” he said. He was on his bed, answering emails on his laptop. Sam climbed up next to him and he kissed her temple. “What’s on your mind?”

  “I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate you,” Sam said, leaning against his shoulder.

  He took off his glasses to look at her. “Are you okay?”

  “Of course. It’s times like these that make me realize how lucky I am. I could never survive in a family that is as hateful as Randolph’s. Poor Monique.”

  “Sad, isn’t it? I’m also grateful that you and your brother are such wonderful kids. Your dad did well with you two, despite the obstacles.”

  “If it weren’t for you, we all might not have turned out so well.”

  “I’d like to believe differently. Your pop is one hell of a guy. He may seem quiet and in control on the outside, but there is a fire that he holds very carefully. You’ve seen it. It makes him much stronger than I will ever be. I really respect him.”

  “I do too.” Sam grinned, snuggling into him.

  Scott sighed. “Randolph abandoned your father when the kid needed family the most. Although, if I were honest, if Dad had gone to live with him instead of us, he wouldn’t have done as well. Randolph would have destroyed his heart. Sammi, I don’t say this very often about very many things, but I think you and I understand each other well enough that I can honestly admit my feelings.” He held her, pulling her against his side.

  “You hate him.”

  “I do, with every nerve in my body. It is shameful and against everything I have ever taught you about tolerance and forgiveness. The loathing I feel for that man sickens me and I hate that he still has the power to make me feel that way. I can’t shake it. That’s where your dad excels; he can forgive and go forward. He doesn’t like or trust the man, but he’ll allow him a chance. I won’t.”

  “I can’t blame you. If I were in your shoes, I would feel the same. I don’t ever see myself going out of my way to help them like Daddy does. Except for Monique.” She shared what the little girl had said.

  Scott sighed. “Such a shame. She could bloom in an environment like ours.”

  “So many kids could, Uncle Scott. This is why I’m so glad I got to have it. And you.”

  “I love you, my girl. So much. Where’s your dad?”

  “Took them down to the bay to catch the ship.”

  “What are the chances that he’d throw them off the dock and have you call in the whites?”

  “Uncle Scott, didn’t you once tell me there was a special place in hell for people like that? I just have to hope it exists and that they make some better choices before getting there.”

  “That’s your daddy talking. Good, at least you got some of his temperament.” Scott chuckled, holding her close. “It’s getting late, why don’t you hit the sack?”

  “I’m restless. May I swim, please? I won’t go out far.”

  Scott looked at the clock. It was 10:20 pm. “Go ahead. Contact me if you’re going to be out too long.”

  “I should only be a couple of hours. I need to clear my head. You’re the world’s best uncle. I love you so much,” she said, embracing him lovingly.

  Sam dressed silently in her room and then left the house, walking downstairs to the dock where she slipped quietly into the still water. The waves were
small, occasionally lapping the sand. She didn’t notice that she was being watched from the bedroom overlooking the beachhead.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Dr. Quimby walked into the house at about 11:30, placing his keys on the table in the foyer. Startled, he saw Cecily on the couch. “Hello, Cecily. What are you doing up?”

  “Are you aware that your perfect daughter snuck out of the house and went for a midnight swim alone?”

  “I’m sure she spoke with Scott first.”

  “You allow her to go swimming alone in the ocean at night? What kind of father are you?” Cecily sounded angry.

  Dr. Quimby frowned. “A very tired one. Why are you still up?”

  “I would think you’d be more concerned about her swimming around at night than at my being awake.”

  “Cecily, let’s get some things straight. First, what I do with my children is my business. Second, nineteen or not, you are nothing more than a child yourself, and I won’t have this kind of attitude in my home from any of you. Third, you are already aware that Sam is in a unique situation that permits her the freedom that I give her. She’s earned this freedom and I will give it to her whenever I see fit. Finally, one more thing – I do not permit snitching in my home unless the person is in danger or is causing harm to someone else. For the next two weeks, you will be under our care and are to follow our rules. We expect you to behave in a manner befitting a young lady. I have no problem enforcing my rules, either, so please do not press me.”

  Cecily stared at him. This was the most she had ever heard him say in one speech. Her stepfather had told her that the man was weak-willed, permissive and would fold to whatever she needed. She was not expecting the quiet strength in his voice.

  “Well, I thought swimming at this time of night without a partner was unsafe,” she scoffed, standing huffily. “Goodnight, Joe.”

  “Goodnight, Cecily. Sleep well.” Oh, his hand itched to smack that backside. He calmly followed her with his eyes as she stomped upstairs before he walked down the hall to tap on Scott’s door.

  “What?” called a tired, grumpy low voice.

  “Me. Sorry to wake you. I’m taking a swim.”