The sun is up when I hear Folgers move past me and into the kitchen. I glance up to see a little figure in pink pajamas hurry to the back door. Lula struggles with the door for a minute before popping it open. The cold air makes her shiver as she lets Folgers into the backyard. I wonder if she'll follow the dog, but she only shuts the door and sits on the floor to wait.
Watching Lula, I wish she were mine. The kid is too good to call Wolfman Daddy. The man sold her off once and he'll do it again when he gets out of prison. I plan to end Wolfman's life before he gets the chance to hurt Lula or Bebe. Yet this little girl will always wonder about the man who created her.
As a kid, I sometimes wondered about my dad. Did I get my blond hair from him? Was he a loser? Did he have a family that mattered to him? I once asked Ford if he'd want to meet his dad. He said no immediately, claiming the fantasy was always better.
Lula didn't need to wonder about her dad. His history was well known. He treated women like property and not in an endearing "mine" way like I thought about Bebe. He owned them, deciding their fates. I knew he killed more than a few of his hookers. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if Bebe's sister died at Wolfman's hands.
The man tortured and killed dogs too. His daughter sat on the cold floor waiting for her friend to finish crapping all over the yard. Lula takes after Bebe in all the important ways.
Folgers is likely done emptying himself and now chasing squirrels. He might be eyeballing the neighbor's cat too, yet Lula waits for him patiently.
When Folgers finishes playing tough guy, he returns to the door. Lula nearly topples over trying to open the door. Shivering wildly, she smiles at Folgers, who waits at his bowl for her to feed him.
I stand up and walk over to help her get down the food. When Lula finally realizes I'm in the room with her, I hate the fear in her big brown eyes.
"Here," I say, handing her a cup of dog food.
Lula pours the kibble into the bowl. When she's done, she peeks at me to see if I'm going to be an asshole again.
"Do you want to eat cereal in front of the TV with me?"
Glancing around, Lula sees the tree lights on and smiles. Even nervous with me, she finds something to enjoy. We take our bowls of Lucky Charms into the living room, where I turn on cartoons. She sits on her knees and eats at the table.
"I didn't have a good mom like you," I say when she keeps peeking back at me. "My mom didn't take care of me like Bebe takes care of you."
Lula likes when I say nice things about Bebe. She loves her mom so much it makes my chest hurt. I've only loved one person like that in my life. Now I have two more, and it feels like too damn much to bear.
"I got scared," I say now that she's turned around to look at me. "I threw a fit like a little kid. You ever throw a fit like that?"
Lula nods, but I can't imagine her freaking out like I did.
"I cry too much," she says.
"No. You're little. I cried when I was little. Now I don't cry. I just yell and bang stuff."
Lula doesn't know what to think. She was safe at Darby's house. I brought her here, promised a lot of nice things, and got her hopes up. Then I scared the shit out of her and made her mom cry. Yeah, I wouldn't know what to think either.
"Remember the boy at the McDonald's play area?" I ask and she nods. "He was freaking out and screaming, but I think he was just scared. Little kids like that don't understand how they'll get to come back. He probably thought once he went home, he'd never get to play again. That's how little kids think. Well I'm not a little kid, but I got scared about things with your mom. I threw a fit like a baby. Now I'm thinking straight, and I'm not going to throw any more fits."
When Lula looks at me for a long time, I'm nervous she won't ever trust me again. She'll see a jackass like Wolfman every time she looks at me.
"Everyone gets scared," she says finally.
"You forgive me?"
I know I'm putting way too much pressure on a child, but I need her to see me as a good guy again.
Lula nods. "Can we still live here?"
"You can stay as long as you want. If your mom hates me, I'll leave and you guys can stay. This is your home."
Lula looks at the tree then back at me. "I don't want you to leave."
"I don't want to leave, but maybe your mom needs me to. If she does, that's okay, because I was a real brat yesterday. We want your mom to be happy."
"Mom likes you. She doesn't want you to go."
"Okay," I say, hoping she's right. "We better eat before our food gets soggy."
Smiling, Lula eats like she's told. If all kids were as easy as her, I'd have a dozen. Hell, I say jump, and she doesn't even ask how high. She just obeys. Of course, she might be saving up all her rebellion for puberty.
I'm dealing with the horrors of imagining a teenage Lula when Bebe stumbles out of the bedroom.
"Lula, you should wake me up," she says, avoiding my gaze.
"You were tired."
Bebe smiles at her little girl then reality catches up. We're eating. Folgers is fed. All is good.
"I have to get ready for work," Bebe says, walking to the coffee pot. "Thanks for making coffee."