Second Chance Father

by Renee Andrews

  But it wasn’t enough.

  God, You know my weakness. Don’t let me get hurt again. If it be Your will, take this desire to fix this man away.

  “We can eat at the table out here today, if you want.” His voice came out scratchy and raw, and she knew this show of hospitality to the two people who had invaded his privacy didn’t come easy.

  The desire to fix him didn’t budge.

  What are You doing to me here, Lord?

  She took the coffee. “That would be great. I appreciate you getting the table for us, Jack.”

  Was he really Jack? Or was he Simon? And how would she ever know?

  * * *

  The day passed in a blur, with the planer getting delivered, and then the three of them working together in much the same way as the carpenter and his assistant worked together in the video. And, as Jack predicted, the machine corrected the imperfection in the now beautiful piece of wood.

  Cody had smiled several times throughout the process and, at one point, Elise thought he had considered saying something, but then the moment passed. However, he seemed to be getting closer and closer to true communication again because of this man.

  And Elise was growing more and more curious about who this man really was.

  Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she stopped sanding the side panel to view the text from Savvy.

  We are about to start the devo. Are y’all coming?

  Elise glanced at the time. She’d known that they had been working awhile but was surprised to see that it was already four in the afternoon.

  Be there soon.

  She sent the message and then watched Jack and Cody hauling wood for the next project that they’d selected, a wood plank dining table, around the side of the house. They worked together to lower the planks, but Cody dropped his too quickly, causing Jack’s side to also plummet and smack directly across his feet.

  Cody’s eyes widened, mouth stretched into a hard straight line. He jerked his attention to Elise and looked horrified that he might have injured his mentor.

  But then Jack laughed, not a soft chuckle, but one of those yes-this-hurts-but-it’s-funny laughs. “Don’t worry,” he said when his laughter subsided, “it stings, but you didn’t take out any toes.”

  Elise watched as Cody’s mouth slid into a smile, and then he released a little chuckle too.

  A laugh. From Cody. Her throat pinched tight and her eyes blinked against beckoning tears.

  Jack must have sensed her watching, because he glanced over his shoulder and looked directly at her. How could a man who could do so much for a boy who’d been through what Cody had experienced...be anything but good?

  Answer your phone, Simon.

  She recalled the odd texts. How could those have been intended for him? But the last text had actually called him by the name she knew—Jack.

  What did it all mean?

  Her phone buzzed again, and she pulled away from the intense connection with Jack to read the next text from Savvy.

  Great. And we will leave for the football game as soon as the devotion ends. You can let Cody know that a friend of mine is planning to drive his antique Mustang to the game. I think it’s a ’66 maybe? He told me, but I don’t remember the exact year. I know how Cody likes those old cars though, so maybe that will make him happy.

  Elise looked up to see Jack still stared at her.

  “Everything okay?” he asked casually.

  Her skin tingled from the reminder of how it felt to hear a man ask her that simple question. Moreover, to hear Jack ask.

  “Yes, everything is good. I just didn’t realize how late it’d gotten.” She directed her voice toward Cody, “That was Ms. Savvy. She said they’re getting ready to start the afternoon devotion and are waiting for us.”

  He looked at the wood planks at his feet and frowned. Clearly, he didn’t want to leave.

  “She also reminded me that we will leave for the football game right after the devo.”

  His shoulders dropped, frown intensified to the point that his entire face sagged.

  Then Elise remembered the rest of Savvy’s news. “And she said that she thinks a friend of hers is driving an antique Mustang to the game tonight. If he does, I’m sure he’ll let you look at it.”

  Cody’s back straightened, eyes widened and mouth pushed into an instant goofy grin. Then he started toward the trail at a near run, jogging past Elise without looking behind to wave goodbye or even see if she planned to join him.

  “Wow,” Jack said. “He really does like old cars.”

  “He does,” she said, wanting to follow after Cody but also needing to get some answers. “Just one second.”

  She texted Savvy to let her know that she’d be a little later getting back and received a response almost immediately that it wasn’t a problem.

  Elise was thankful for the new friend she’d found in Savvy and for the opportunity she had to talk privately with Jack. “Can I help you move that wood, since we won’t be working on it until tomorrow?” She pointed to the stack he and Cody had dropped on the ground.

  “I can get it.” He lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “I just asked him to help so he could, you know, feel useful. You can go on to the devo. You don’t have to stay.”

  Elise sensed more to the statement than the fact that he didn’t need help moving planks of wood. He didn’t want help. Thought he could soldier on alone.

  But her instinct told her that wasn’t true. And she needed help too because in spite of her past experience, she couldn’t stop that urge to find out what was wrong in Jack’s world and fix it.

  “Who is Simon?” she blurted, as her phone, still in her palm, rang loudly.

  She saw the surprised look on his face at her question, but a glance at the display on her cell showed that the call was from Claremont Elementary, the school Cody would attend. She’d been waiting for this call. “I’m sorry. I have to take this.”

  She could almost see the relief on his face. Did he think she wouldn’t want an answer to the question now? Or was he thankful that he had time to fabricate one instead of telling her the truth? Either way, she had to find out how long she had before she had to meet with the school about Cody. “Hello?”

  “Hello,” the woman said. “Is this Ms. Ramsey?”

  “Yes, this is Elise Ramsey. How can I help you?” She knew why the lady was calling, and she was glad Cody had made some progress, but he hadn’t made near enough for what this woman would want. She said a quick prayer that the inevitable meeting would be later rather than sooner.

  “This is Mrs. Tucker at Claremont Elementary. I wanted to let you know that in accordance with the state’s time restrictions, we have scheduled Cody Miller’s IEP meeting for the second week in November. Of course, the state would like for you to be a part of this evaluation. Will Thursday, November 10, at one o’clock work for you?”

  “That’s only two weeks away.” Elise needed Cody to communicate by the time that meeting took place, or he’d have to essentially start over in school, placing him in a special needs classroom instead of integrating him into the general population. “He had been mainstreamed last year, and I had hoped to have him ready for that again before he returned to the school system.”

  “We do have Cody’s previous school records and those will definitely be taken into consideration. However, I’m sure you understand that we have to look at his current situation and establish our goals for him based on where he is now rather than where he was a year ago.” She paused, exhaled heavily through the line. “I know his case is different than most children who are scheduled for an IEP, Miss Ramsey, but unfortunately, his unique circumstances are why we are doing this reevaluation.” Another beat of silence echoed through the line. “So will that time and day work for you? We do value your opini
ons as part of Cody’s IEP team.”

  “Yes, I will be there.” There was no way she would miss advocating for her patient.

  “We will see you on the tenth, then. Have a blessed day.”

  Elise disconnected and scowled at the phone. Have a blessed day? How was she supposed to do that after learning she had merely fourteen days to get Cody out of his shell and prove to the other members of his IEP team that he was ready to be mainstreamed?

  Because Elise knew he was ready.

  She’d seen him interact with Jack, even if nonverbally. And she’d witnessed his intelligence firsthand, in the way he read and followed the instructions for building the dresser, and in the way he handled himself in the library earlier this week. And, well, just by being Cody. He was smart and intuitive and sensitive...and he’d touched her heart deeply, maybe more than she’d even realized until this moment.

  He was the closest thing to a son that she’d ever had.

  She closed her eyes and bit back the urge to cry. She couldn’t stand the thought of Cody digressing in school over something he couldn’t control.

  God, please, help me.

  “What’s wrong?” Jack’s words were delivered softly near her left ear, and Elise was surprised to realize that he’d moved toward her and now stood close, very close, close enough that he eased his arms around her, enveloping her in a comforting warmth that she so desperately needed. She melted into the embrace, rested her head against his strong chest and found the courage to confide her fear.

  “I’m afraid I won’t have him ready in time.” She couldn’t manage more words than that without crying, and she didn’t want to cry.

  “Cody?” he asked. “You’re afraid you won’t have Cody ready?”

  She nodded, her senses soothed by the feel of him against her and by the crisp masculine scent of the man who’d been captivating her for days without even trying. How long had it been since she’d been held by a man?

  She knew exactly how long, since the day Anthony took his own life, two years, one week and three days ago.

  Jack held her close for another moment, the steady beat of his heart providing a calming balm to her troubled soul. She felt him swallow, heard him clear his throat, and then ask gently, “Ready for what, Elise? What are you afraid he won’t be ready for?”

  She blinked a couple of times, gathering her composure. She’d had patients who hadn’t progressed quickly in the past, but she’d never gotten this upset over the situation; quite the opposite, she usually saw it as a challenge. But Cody was different. He didn’t have parents who would go to the IEP table ready to do battle for their child. He would have Elise, only Elise, and she didn’t want to let him down. But she couldn’t let herself get dependent on Jack to see her through this.

  Regrettably, she eased out of his embrace. Yes, he was helping Cody, but there was still way too much she didn’t know about the man to let him get too close. And he was so very similar to the one who had nearly destroyed her heart. However, he did care about Cody, and he was her best shot at getting the boy where he needed to be before that meeting in two weeks.

  An unexpected chill ebbed through her, and she already missed the warmth of his embrace. She thought he might say something, explain why he’d felt the need to comfort her or apologize for crossing the boundary of mere acquaintances by holding her so tenderly. But Jack didn’t say anything. He stood rigidly still, the only apparent movement his chest rising and falling steadily as he repeated his question. “What are you afraid he won’t be ready for, Elise?”

  She moistened her lips, gathered her thoughts and said, “His IEP meeting. I had hoped to have at least another month to prepare him, to get him to achieve the steps that he’d accomplished prior to the accident, so that he could move ahead instead of backward. Cody doesn’t deserve to be punished for something he couldn’t control.” In her mind, this explained everything, but the confusion in those incredible eyes said she’d only muddied the water.

  “IEP?”

  Dismayed that she’d become so used to conversing with her colleagues that she went into autopilot for describing her patient in a clinical manner, she explained, “I’m sorry. IEP is the individualized education plan.”

  “An education plan designed specifically for Cody,” he said, obviously trying to understand why she was worried.

  “Yes,” she said. “An IEP is created for each special needs child, taking into account the child’s strengths and talents.”

  He nodded as she spoke, and she sensed he processed the information in much the same manner as a patient’s parents would. And oddly, in Cody’s case, she felt like she belonged on that side of the table too, as the one most concerned about how the child’s progress would be evaluated. And the one ready to fight on his behalf.

  “So someone else defines the individualized plan for Cody?” he asked, confirming that he wanted to understand the process.

  “Not completely. The IEP team meets to bring individuals with different perspectives and expertise toward a patient’s case to the table. The team pools their knowledge and formulates the individualized education program for the child.”

  Again, he soaked in every word, then asked, “And you’ll be a part of this team? You’ll help determine what Cody’s goals will be with his education plan, right?”

  “I will, but I can only advocate based on what he is doing at this moment.”

  He deduced what she didn’t say. “And he’s still well away from the point he’d achieved prior to losing his family.”

  She hated admitting the truth, but she nodded. “As he is now, in spite of the fact that I will recommend placing him in a nondisabled room for the majority of his time at school, I can’t back up that recommendation with verified achievements.”

  “So Cody won’t have the opportunity to be mainstreamed, unless you can prove he is capable of functioning well in that environment.”

  She nodded once again. “I’ll be the only member on the IEP team who has worked with Cody firsthand.” She visualized the individuals who were typically present at an IEP table. “Usually, the team members are composed of the child’s parents...”

  “Which, in Cody’s case, isn’t possible,” he said quietly.

  “Exactly. And then there will be at least one regular education teacher, one or more special education teachers, a board member from the school system, and a state social worker who will be responsible for interpreting the evaluation results and discuss what instruction may be necessary for the child to succeed.”

  “And you’re afraid the group will determine that Cody isn’t ready to be mainstreamed again, even with your recommendation that they place him in the environment he was used to before?”

  She recalled the last few IEP meetings she’d attended. “In almost every IEP meeting, the parents fight fiercely for their child to receive what they believe to be the best education plan for their specific child. Cody won’t have his parents there to do that.”

  They’d moved apart when Elise had separated from his embrace, but he took a step toward her now, placed his finger beneath her chin and gently tilted her face toward his. “But he’ll have you.”

  She swallowed, so moved by this man’s obvious feelings toward the boy she’d grown to care about so much. “I have two weeks, just two weeks, to show them that he’s ready. They will want to meet with him, see his progress, and if he shuts down—” she fought the sting of that possibility “—if he can’t display his ability to function on his own in the classroom without a specialized instructor, then he’ll be placed in a class that isn’t going to challenge him. He’ll...” She paused, worked her way through the emotion. “I’m afraid he’ll give up trying.”

  “And if he shuts down like that, his chances of being adopted will disappear.”

  “They won’t keep me around once he is placed
in the school system. He’ll work with the instructors at Claremont Elementary, and I’ll go back to Birmingham to work with other patients, and I—” her deepest fear hit her hard “—I’m afraid no one else will care enough to fight for him.”

  He cupped her chin. “I care. And I want to help. We can get him ready for that meeting.”

  She believed him. No, Cody wouldn’t have parents in his corner to battle on his behalf, but he had Elise...and he had Jack.

  Answer your phone, Simon.

  Elise had been so taken aback by the phone call that she’d forgotten the worrying texts from earlier. But she remembered now. How could she trust Jack to help her get Cody ready, when she didn’t even know who he was? She backed away from the touch of his hand against her chin, broke the intoxicating connection of being so very close to a man who stirred her heart. “Who is Simon?”

  For a brief moment, the color left his face. Then his jaw flexed, and the compassion she’d witnessed was replaced by bone-deep regret.

  What had he done? Who was he hiding from? And why had she let herself become so close so soon? Because the thought that he wasn’t what he appeared was almost as terrifying as the possibility that she would fail her patient.

  “Tell me, Jack. Someone sent you messages this morning, and they were on your computer. I know I shouldn’t have read them, but they popped up when Cody was watching the video. There really wasn’t any way not to see them.” Swallowing hard, she held his gaze. “And the guy talked about someone named Roland and things that you were supposed to do, or should have done. And he called you Simon.”

  He closed his eyes, took a long, deep breath and then let it out. “I’m Simon, or that’s what some people call me. It’s my last name.”

  “Your last name,” she repeated numbly. “Jack...Simon.” The name scratched at a memory. She’d heard it before but couldn’t recall where. Was it on the news? Had he committed some crime that would warrant taking refuge in the middle of nowhere?