Pick You Up

"I love you, Daddy," she whispered.

Kissing the top of her head, I returned the love before she smiled up at me, eventually heading towards her room to sort her things out. While I pottered around the house, I gave what she said some thought. I'll be honest, discovering my wife had been cheating on me tore my heart out. I'd protected myself as much as I could, thankful that I could easily kick her out as she was ready to go live with her lover anyway. I walked out the marriage with the house, my kids and without getting bent over and screwed financially.

But when it came to women, I had next to no trust in the opposite sex any longer. I've read far too many horror stories of other divorced men who simply lost everything. Little wonder marriage rates were falling considering the divorce rates as they are.

We lived on a quiet street, and on a weekend, it was always busy with kids from the street and the neighbourhood gathering together. There were a couple of nearby parks, but most of the kids were still quite young so parents had no problem sitting outside to keep an eye on them as they played. My three were up early on Sunday and eager to head out to see their friends. Some friends who didn't live close would be dropped off by their parents. Many of them knew me well and would sometimes give me a few dollars to pay for me feeding them lunch, keeping them fed and watered until they were picked up later.

I spent the morning chatting away with the neighbours, and of course, the new arrivals were being discussed. I'd been rather open and friendly when we'd moved into our house over a decade ago. It had been those same neighbours who had finally warned me about my wife's infidelity.

"What do you think?" Mike asked, sipping at a bottle of beer, "You usually have a good read of people, Mark."

Sipping at my own, I nodded silently first. "Well, you know what I used to do. I've seen more than enough women in a similar position. She's escaping someone, that's for damn sure."

Mike gestured with his head. "Seems she sent her kids out to make friends, at least. Wonder if she'll come introduce herself?"

"Well, I won't go knocking on her door. Think we leave that to the women of the street for the moment."

Harry nodded in understanding. "DV, Mark?"

Sighing, I nodded in reply, sipping at my beer first. "Too many times, mate. It's why I quit."

"And now you're doing security work for the same wankers your wife... um..."

"Yeah, but they pay me a lot of money for a few hours' work and the consultancy gig is only for a few days each month. It means I can spend far more time with my kids. That's what matters."

"Guess we'll have to see if she'll attend the next barbecue. Think we should invite her?"

"Sure," I replied, taking a sip of my beer, "No reason why we should treat her any different. She's a neighbour and it would be neighbourly of us to help make her feel part of this little community."

The next week, I woke up before my daughters every morning. My youngest, Cindy, loved me waking her up, watching her face light up as I sat on the edge of her bed, giving her a gentle shake. As soon as she opened her eyes and giggled, I'd give her a big hug and a kiss on her cheek. My oldest would generally get up with her alarm. Alice, my middle daughter, sometimes liked waking up, but it would depend on her mood. But I'd always get a big hug before she sat down to eat her breakfast.

I drove them to school every morning when the weather was cooler, all three attending the same though Katie would be attending high school next year. As soon as they were in the school gates, I knew they were safe so drove home. On the way, I noticed I drove by the car of my new neighbour. I was home when I noticed her return home. I assumed she probably wasn't working, wondering if she was struggling on a single mother's pension, or was currently unemployed. Perhaps she was lucky like myself, able to work her own hours, living a comfortable life.

It was the same all week, only Wednesday being different as I was working, a little consulting, eight hours netting me more cash than a week as a copper. On Friday afternoon, I collected my girls from school and drove them home. As soon as they'd dropped their bags and changed out of their uniforms, ensuring they were already in the washing machine, I asked if they wanted to make cookies.

"What for?" Alice wondered, noticing all three giving me a curious glance.

"I'm thinking we make a batch then introduce ourselves to our new neighbours. Have you introduced yourselves to them?"

"They're both quite shy," Katie replied, "But I know the boy, James, is around ten years old. His sister is around eight years old."

"He's in the other class in my year," Alice explained.

"She's in my class, Daddy," Cindy told me, "Her name is Melissa. She's also eight."

"Do you know their mother's name?" All three shook their heads. "Well, I think we make cookies and head over the road to introduce ourselves."

It was a lot of fun, though I knew the kitchen was going to end up a complete mess. Still, the fact Cindy couldn't stop giggling nearly the entire time, Katie's smile was infectious, while Alice just wanted hugs from daddy all the time, meant it was simply a lot of fun. By the time we had the cookies baking in the oven, I sent the three to the bathroom to clean themselves up while I needed to wipe my hands and change my shirt.

Once the cookies were ready, I gave my daughters one each, putting the rest in a Tupperware box. Holding Cindy by the hand as we crossed the road, we approached the door, glancing around to see the lawn probably need a little care, so I wondered what the backyard looked like. Knocking on the door, it didn't take long for it to open, her son answering.

"Hello," he said, noticing his eyes staring up at me, bright and wide.

"Hello, little man. Is your mother home?"

"Mum!" he yelled out, "There's a man at the door!"

I heard her shout something back, watching her appear through the screen door. As soon as she saw me, she stopped for a moment, before she seemed to take in the three young girls around me. Stopping on the other side of the door, she looked me up and down before looking across my girls again. "You're from the across the road?"

"That's me, I'm Mark. This is Katie, my oldest; Alice, the second; and Cindy, the youngest. We baked some cookies and I thought it would be a nice little present to welcome you to the neighbourhood."

For a brief moment, a smile appeared, though it didn't last. To be honest, she looked tired and still looked scared. The same look I'd seen on her face the day she'd arrived. But she unlocked the screen door and opened it enough so I could pass her the box, watching her open the lid and that's when a genuine smile formed. "These smell good," she said softly.

"I'll be honest, they're not made from scratch."

"But we made them when we got home from school," Cindy added, "Daddy said it would be nice to do."

She looked at my daughter and smiled. "Well, it's a very nice thing you've done. You're Cindy?"

"That's me!"

"Well, I'm Caroline. Do you know my children? I think they go to the same school as you?"

"James is in my year," Alice replied, "And Melissa is in Cindy's class."

Caroline glanced in my direction. "Um... I'd invite you in but..."

"No need, Caroline. I just thought it would be a nice little thing to do. Just know that, if you need anything, all you need do is knock on the door. And that means anyone around here." I took the card from my pocket and offered it to her. "That's my card. Got my private number on it. You ever need anything, and I mean anything, all you need do is call. My phone is always on." She got the insinuation. I saw the look pass through her eyes. For emphasis, I added, "I used to be a cop. Over ten years on the force. Now I'm a private security consultant."

She nodded silently. "I'm sure my kids will love the cookies. Thank you for making them, girls."

"You have a good night, Caroline," I stated, "Remember, you need anything, anything at all, just give me a call. Or knock on our front door."

"Daddy likes to help people," Cindy added.

"I'm sure he does."

"Come on, girls. Got to get you fed, bathed then off to bed eventually."

"But Daaaaad," Alice stated, "It's Friday night."

"And you know that means an hour or two later to bed at most. But you're still children and have a bed-time."

Smiling at Caroline, I wished her goodnight and escorted my daughters back. Alice and Cindy headed straight to their bedrooms but Katie hung around as I started to organise something for dinner. I wasn't actually going to cook. Friday night was fish and chips night.

"I think she was pretty, Daddy," Katie stated as she sat on one of the stools at the counter. Wiping down the bench, I just looked at her, watching the smile form. "And I think you saw it too."

Katie wasn't wrong. Despite what I saw in her eyes, there was no missing how beautiful those blue eyes were. She was a little slim but still had a figure. Gorgeous brunette hair past her shoulders. But the fidgeting even when talking gave away the frayed nerves. It left me wondering how the kids were at school, though I wasn't going to go interrogating my daughters about it.

What surprised me is that, within the hour, my phone dinged. Opening the message, it was a simple message but it certainly made me smile.

'Thank you, Mark.'

I sent her a short message back.

'No problem. Call or text if you need anything.'

My girls played netball on a weekend, all three playing in different age groups. As they all played at the same time, I could only watch one of them, so the agreement is that I'd watch one of their games each weekend. Their mother was supposed to take them when they were staying with her but, you guessed it, I was left to do it, though I did so happily.

Arriving home with the girls still in their uniforms, I was just heading inside when I heard someone call my name, turning to see Caroline stepping out of her front door. She glanced left and right. Gesturing for her to wait, I let the girls into the house before I walked back across the road. There was that part of me that already wanted to hug and assure her she was safe, but as I walked towards her, she stepped back inside and closed the screen door. I wasn't offended by it.

"Do your girls play netball?" she asked.

"All three of them. Same team though different age groups. Season is around a third of the way through."

"Melissa loves netball. Are they still taking players?"

"New players can join up until mid-season, then they ask anyone else to wait until next season. Got your phone on you?"

Taking it from her pocket, I gave her the name of the local netball team, the phone number of the coach, the manager and also the local organisation which ran the competitions. I let her know what night training was and what time the games were on a Saturday morning, also where the games were played.

"Does James like to play anything?"

"He used to play soccer but... His father was the coach and..."

She trailed off and looked away. I knew exactly what she was going to say. The sort of man who took children playing sport on the weekend far too seriously. "Is he still interested in playing?"

"I don't know. He doesn't really do much anymore."

"Have you spoken to anyone around here about tonight?" Shaking her head, I continued. "We usually have a get together every Saturday night. Someone puts on a barbecue, people bring a plate or something to drink. The kids are generally kept occupied, and will usually sleep in the living room when it gets late. It's not a giant piss up or anything, just a way for friends to chill out and relax."

She glanced behind her again, her hands rubbing along her upper arms, drawing into herself. "I don't know," she said softly.

"No pressure, Caroline. We sometimes do it every week when the weather is nice, every two weeks when the weather is a little ropey. Mike is hosting tonight. If you want to come along, bring the kids, and you'll get to meet everyone. Have you talked to anyone else?" Shaking her head again, I reigned in the sigh. I certainly had empathy. "I'll ask one or two of the wives, maybe other single mothers to come say hello, make you feel welcome."

"You don't have to..."

"I know, but it's the right thing to do." I was about to turn around when I asked, "How did the cookies go down?"

A genuine smile flickered on her face. In fact, I thought I even saw a little colour. "They were delicious, Mark. Thank you for doing that. My kids loved them too."

"Good. Glad to hear that. You look after yourself, Caroline. Okay?" She met my eyes and nodded. "And you need anything, just call or text as I said."

"Thank you, Mark."

"No worries."

I'd taken three steps when she asked, "Do you work, Mark?"

Glancing back, I replied, "I do a little bit of this and that, but as I said, I was a copper for over ten years."

I noticed the eyes widen for a second before she asked, "What made you stop?"

Sighing, I shook my head first. "I'll tell you some other time."

As we were in spring and likely heading into one hell of a warm summer, I started walking the girls to school every morning. It was good exercise for the four of us, and most of the other parents would join us, those that were not working anyway. I didn't see Caroline at the first couple of barbecue's we held, but I did see her outside on the front lawn watching the children playing a few times during the week. I'd glance at her every so often, pleased to see she seemed to be slowly relaxing. She even managed the occasional smile, though still looked like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders.

One morning, we were running a little late, the girls being uncooperative as the three had taken their time getting ready. As I had them walking quickly, I heard a shout of my name, stopping to see Caroline walking after us. When she noticed the four of us had stopped, that same smile I'd rarely seen appeared.

"Thanks for stopping," she said, "We're running late too, it seems."

"No problem. These three rugrats have been testing me this morning, seeing how much I'd endure before I just carried them." Bending down, I tickled Cindy, hearing her squeal as she ran after her sisters. James and Melissa hurried forward to join them, leaving me to walk a few metres behind with Caroline.

"I don't have an excuse. It's just difficult, you know." She paused before asking, "I haven't seen their mother about."

"She's in Europe at the moment."

"Oh..." The school was still around ten minutes away so I slowed down just a little, enough for Caroline to probably notice, but she glanced my way and slowed down to my walking pace. "So I assume..."

"Divorced over two years now. She was doing me dirty while I was working hard."

"Is it why you quit?"

"Not the main reason, but I wasn't going to be an absent father. Add to that she's a pretty useless mother, and the fact since she married the other bloke quickly without any thought to how it would impact our children..."

"How long is she gone for?"

I shrugged. "No idea. I don't care and, to be honest, nor do my girls. They're happy living at home with daddy. The times I'm not there, my parents will look after them, and her parents are still wonderful. They hate her new bloke and have little to do with her now."

The conversation petered out as we approached the school gates. My girls didn't mind giving me a hug before disappearing. I'd told my girls that, no matter how old they were, I'd never not hug and kiss them if that's what they wanted. I had no problem showing or giving them affection. Realising we were alone, Caroline glanced my way and grinned, almost shyly.

"Look, I'm not going to ask any questions about you, Caroline, as it isn't my business. But I'll tell you one thing. I was a cop for over a decade and I've seen a lot of shit. A lot of shit. If you ever need to chew an ear off, I'm more than capable of sitting there and just listening. Now, that being said, how would you like a coffee?"

"Oh..."

"Just a coffee, nothing more, nothing less. But I could do with one. Getting those three up and ready means I haven't had my usual morning cup of brown yet."

"Okay," she said softly, "Where?"

"Well, I'm not sure how you'd feel about coming to..."

"No, that's okay. Your place is okay."

I couldn't help smile as we started our walk home. We kept the conversation light, mostly talking about our kids, though I noticed I was doing most of the talking. She was an attentive listener though, asking the occasional question, and it certainly helped pass the time. Arriving outside my house, I was opening the door when I noticed her come to a stop, immediately hugging herself again.

"Would you like me to walk you home, Caroline?"

"I just feel like he's still watching me," she whispered, "And following a man into his house..."

I offered my hand. "The only people around here are friends. I'd like to be your friend. You are safe within these walls."

She met my eyes before looking down at my hand. It was hesitant, and her hand was shaking, but she eventually took mine. And she gripped hard. Leading her inside, she gasped, probably surprised at how nicely decorated it was. After the ex-wife left, I'd repainted the entire house, eliminated any sign of her except for a couple of photos with the kids, and spent plenty of money on new furniture and features.

Leading Caroline into the kitchen, I pulled out a stool and helped her up, earning another smile, as I started on making coffee. Thankfully, she didn't want anything too fancy, finding the tin of biscuits in the pantry while the kettle boiled. Passing her a mug, the smile that formed proved that, when she was feeling safe and sound, she was utterly gorgeous. I knew I gazed at her as I sipped at my own mug.

"Good coffee," she stated.

"I treat myself to certain things, but I make sure the girls generally get what they want."

"Wrapped around their fingers?"

"Of course. But I also make sure they know things like discipline, integrity and respect. I don't care if you're a boy or a girl, there are morals and ideals that everyone should be taught when they're younger." Sipping at my coffee, I asked, "What about your two little ones?"

"I'm just keeping them safe. As long as I can put a roof over their heads, make sure they're clothed and fed every day..."

"Does he know where you live?"

She shuddered a second. Without thinking, I leaned across and took her hand. When she squeezed and smiled, I met her eyes. "It's not always physical, you know?"

"I learned more than I ever wanted to know on the job, Caroline." I paused before asking, "You work?"

"Yeah, I work from home. I prefer it that way. He was making a habit of showing up where I was working, even if the company was doing me a favour by moving me to a different office."

"Divorced?" She nodded. "Restraining order?" She nodded again. "I assume he's had more than one AVO?"

"But how much does all that really work? The cops come, cuff him, warn him, he might front up at court and he'll get a slap on the wrist." She put the mug down and her hands were shaking. Putting my mug down, I took both her hands. "I just want to get on with my life, Mark, but all I feel is the need to look over my shoulder every time I leave the house."

"Where is he now?"

"I assume the other house, the one we'd rented together until the day I finally escaped him."

"Your parents?"

"Live on the other side of the country. The bastard isolated me on purpose. Pushed away any close friends I had. Don't even think about male friends. I even look at another man, I'm a cheating slut."

"So he's a bully?"