Liliana’s shoulders slump in defeat. At the moment, it may seem like a loss to her, but it’s the first step to a bigger win.
“Okay, sweetie. We’ll go out for a few minutes.”
I barely suppress a big smile from forming on my face, but my lips still curve a little at the corners. I keep my expression relaxed as I turn to face them.
“Mrs. Myers was preparing breakfast trays when I came up. Instead of eating up here, why don’t we have a picnic outside?”
The press of Liliana’s lips shows her displeasure, but she still concedes. “Fine.”
“I’ll leave you two to get dressed while I talk to Mrs. Myers. I’ll be back in a few minutes, and we’ll go down together.”
Thirty minutes later, I walk next to Liliana and Harper as we go out through the door in the kitchen that leads to the backyard. While they were getting dressed, I helped Mrs. Myers set up a blanket with a basket of the food that she was going to bring up to their room. The spot we chose is padded with thick green grass, and it’s close to one of the flower beds. There’s a soft breeze outside, and a thin canopy of trees overhead prevents the sun from blazing down on us. With the estate being so close to the coastline, there’s a slight ocean scent in the air.
Mrs. Myers knows about the mother and daughter’s situation. She also knows the trouble I’ve had getting Liliana to open up. She was happy when I informed her that we were going outside today for a picnic.
We all settle down on the blanket; me on my knees by the picnic basket and Liliana across from me. She hasn’t met my eyes once, but her gaze darts around, taking in the area around us. I smile when Harper plops down on her butt beside her mother.
I pull plates out of the basket and start loading them with toast, bacon, sausage, eggs, and a variety of fruits. Mrs. Myers always goes way out when she’s feeding Liliana and Harper, wanting to give them plenty of choices to pick from since Liliana won’t tell her what she likes.
“Would you like orange juice or apple juice?” I ask Harper.
“Apple!” she says cheerfully, grinning so big her cheeks puff out.
I pour some of the juice in a sippy cup, twist on the lid, and hand it to the little girl, who already has her mouth full of mango.
“Liliana? Juice or coffee?”
“Coffee.”
I chose travel mugs with lids for our drinks so we don’t have to worry about spilling it on the uneven ground. After pouring her a generous amount, I hand her the mug without putting the lid on so she can add whatever sweetener she wants.
I’ve already had breakfast, but I still nibble on some of the fruit so I don’t make Liliana feel uncomfortable eating in front of me. We sit in silence for the first little while. Harper devours her food like any little kid can. Liliana eats slower. Her gaze keeps drifting around, taking in the property. She tries to hide her interest, but I see it lighting up in her eyes.
“It’s beautiful out today, isn’t it?” I remark casually. “The breeze feels nice on the skin, and the ocean smells lovely.” I don’t look at Liliana as I talk, looking off in the distance where the cliffs are beyond the high concrete walls. “My mom and I used to have picnics out here a few times a week. She tried to make my brothers come with us, but all they wanted to do was run around and play.”
A smile tips up my lips as the memories flood through my head.
“One time, when I was young, maybe five or six, Mom and I were sitting in this same spot having lunch. My youngest brother, Cass, came barreling around the corner. Bishop, my oldest brother, was hot on his trail with his arms loaded with water balloons. I thought it was hilarious when he miscalculated his throw and got Mom and me instead.” I laugh. “Mom wasn’t too thrilled.”
In my peripheral vision, Liliana’s head swings in my direction. I keep my eyes forward.
“It wasn’t the water itself that irritated Mom. My brothers thought it was a fabulous idea to put red dye in the balloons when they filled them with water.” I shake my head and laugh again. “Mom was wearing one of her favorite white dresses. Needless to say, it wasn’t white anymore.”
“What did she do?”
I hold in my surprise at hearing Liliana’s quiet question, but I do bring my eyes to her. “Lined them up against the wall there.” I point to a concrete half wall by one of the flower gardens. “And made them stay still while we blasted them with the rest of the water balloons. They were red from head to toe by the time we were done. It took days for all the red to fade.”
Her lips twitch, and I hold my breath, waiting to see if she’ll let her smile free. She doesn’t, but I still call it progress.
“Bishop,” she says in a low voice. “He’s the one with tattoos on his arms?”
“Yes. He’s my oldest brother.”
She nods, but doesn’t say anything else. I don’t want to overload her by talking too much, so the next several minutes are spent in silence. She watches Harper eat, while every few seconds looking up and around. She slowly picks through the food on her own plate.
Once Harper’s plate is empty, she looks at her mother. “Can I go look at the flowers now, Mama?”
Liliana wipes off a piece of orange from Harper’s cheek with her napkin. “Sure, sweetie. But only go to that one.” She points to the bed of flowers closest to us.