Second Chance Father

by Renee Andrews

  “I pried into your past, and I shouldn’t have done that. I’m very sorry, Jack, and I’m asking you to forgive me.”

  The machine was never going to quit.

  He heard her sigh, and part of him wanted to tell her not to worry, everything would be okay. But everything wouldn’t, not between them, because she made him want the impossible. So he kept his attention on the Cocomotion.

  “I may have gone about getting the information in the wrong manner, but I think God led me to learn about you, about how talented you are, because we need you, Jack. Cody needs you, and what you can do.”

  That got his attention. “I’m helping Cody.”

  “You are,” she agreed softly, “but he needs something that, I’m fairly certain, you are the only one that can provide. Something to help him find a new family, Jack.”

  He hadn’t wanted to look at her, but he couldn’t help himself. He turned, leaned against the counter and let their eyes connect. Hers held hope. His, he suspected, held accusation. “What does he need, Elise?”

  Her lower lip trembled, but Jack wouldn’t let himself worry why.

  “What does he need?” he repeated.

  “He needs for families to see him the way we do, for folks to understand what he’s gone through and want to help him, love him—” she paused, swallowed “—give him a forever home with people he can depend on.”

  “I thought you said that if we could get him out of his shell, have him communicate and interact with others, that would help his chances of adoption.”

  She ran a finger along the counter’s edge, looked away from Jack. Whatever she was about to say, he’d wager he didn’t want to hear it.

  “That will help his chances, but people still need to see him. Not only Cody but all of the other kids at Willow’s Haven.” She stopped watching her finger on the counter and drew her eyes toward him. “They’re currently maxed out, Jack. They can’t take any more children, but there are a lot of kids like Cody, or actually, not even in as good of a position as Cody. They don’t have a children’s home. They don’t have any home. They are bounced from house to house, family to family or orphanage to orphanage, and they all need the same thing—someone to want them. Someone to love them. Just like Cody.”

  The conviction in her tone reminded Jack of himself, when he described the reason he had to make a particular film, tell a specific story. Because it called to him. Because it pricked his heart. “What is it you want me to do, Elise?”

  “Savvy talked to a large children’s home in Atlanta about how they find families for the kids there, and she learned that the best way they’ve found to get people to understand how precious the kids are and how much they need a family is...” She turned her head to the side, as if dreading his response, and then she finally blurted, “To create a video of the children.”

  Jack’s pulse dropped.

  Her eyes widened, and she must have taken his lack of response as a sign to proceed at a rapid pace, because she rattled the remainder of her request. “They wouldn’t show it until Christmas. It’s called a Christmas appeal. It’d be shown at all of the churches, and it’s a way for people to see the children without the kids having to travel around from church to church, since that really isn’t good for them, since they need stability, and the stability factor of church for them is to stay at the only church they’ve known since they moved to Willow’s Haven.”

  Jack’s head shook on its own accord. What was she thinking? But she didn’t acknowledge his response, just continued with her unbelievable request.

  “Savvy said she didn’t know any videographers, and I know that you’re well above that type of thing, as far as what you’ve done before, but I also know that you would be the absolute best shot that they would have for all of the kids in the home—and Cody—to have a chance at a real family.” She cleared her throat. “And I’m certain God brought you here for this, Jack. Probably for other reasons too, but definitely for this. It’s meant for you. Your films have been so inspiring, the kind that pull at your heart and never let go. They remind us of how we should be, letting God lead us every day, following His will, and I know you’re the one meant to make this video—”

  “Absolutely not.”

  * * *

  Elise knew he’d still be mad at her, had braced herself for it, through every painstaking step of the walk with Cody from Willow’s Haven. But she hadn’t anticipated him refusing so vehemently to make the video.

  Couldn’t he see that’s why God brought him here? To help Cody and to help the kids at Willow’s Haven? Yes, he was angry with her, but he shouldn’t let the fact that she’d snooped into his past stop him from helping the kids who needed him, especially the one beside him now, working on the dresser.

  She watched him talk to Cody and find a way to interact with the boy even though Cody never uttered a word. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say they were father and son.

  JJ. She recalled the photo of Jack’s boy, merely a year younger than Cody when he died. She had no doubt losing the boy—losing all of his family—had damaged Jack’s faith. She’d known people who turned away from God, even blamed Him, during times of trouble.

  But this was Jack Simon. The faith director. His entire career had been spent proclaiming the goodness of God. And his last movie at the box office had calmed her distressed soul, given her the strength to keep trusting God to guide her through the storm in spite of her pain.

  How could Jack Simon say no to helping these children, specifically this boy? He cared about Cody. She could see it in the way he looked at him, hear it in the way he spoke to him, like now.

  Jack eyed the instructions on the side of a can of clear satin polyurethane. “Okay, Cody, from what this says, we’re supposed to brush a thin coat evenly on the wood to protect it from water marks, household cleaners and everyday wear. And then our dresser will be finished.” He placed the yellow can on a workbench, grabbed a screwdriver and pried the lid off. “We don’t need to stir this or shake it, because that’ll make bubbles in the top coat.”

  Elise watched as Cody peered around Jack’s arm to see the thick liquid in the can. He handed Cody a brush. “You want to get started?”

  Cody stepped near the dresser but didn’t make any effort to dip the brush in the can. Instead, he ran the bristles against his opposite palm and stretched his mouth into that familiar thin flat line.

  Elise noticed his hesitation and knew that he wasn’t comfortable with the assigned task. Then he confirmed her suspicion by placing the brush on top of the dresser and moving his hands to his chest to start his rapid finger thumping.

  He’d been excited about every aspect that had been involved with completing the dresser. But now that he’d reached the final step, he looked wary, with reluctance and indecision etched clearly on his face.

  And she wasn’t the only one who noticed.

  Jack wrapped an arm around him and leaned in toward the boy. The image of father and son was so prominent that Elise would be surprised if Jack didn’t sense it too. A hard lump formed in her throat. How could Jack not help Cody find a family again? Have a father again?

  “Cody,” he said, his voice low and steady, “Elise and I know you can do this. We have total faith in you.”

  Elise and I. Warmth flooded her, because she liked being included. She wanted Cody to know that she believed in him, and that she wanted to help him.

  Still leaning toward Cody, Jack pointed to the dresser. “It’s the last step, and then I’ll have a one-of-a-kind piece of furniture, a Jack-and-Cody original.” He smiled. “But I want you involved with the final step. Because I know you can do it. And Elise and I will help you.”

  Cody’s throat bobbed with a thick swallow as he locked gazes with his mentor and then reached for the brush.

  Jack grabbed a brush and then extended
another one toward Elise. “You are going to help, right?”

  She took the brush. “I am.”

  * * *

  Jack had ignored the jibe from Elise about the brush. He also managed to apply the coat of polyurethane with the two of them without conversing with her, touching her or anything else that had to do with her.

  He was still mad at Elise. First, she’d gone meddling into his past, and then she’d tried to guilt him into making a film. No, it wasn’t the type of large-scale production, full-length movie that he typically directed, but it would still be a film. And Willow’s Haven was a Christian children’s home; therefore, the video would undeniably be God-focused.

  Jack wasn’t doing God any more favors.

  Even if it meant helping Cody.

  Besides, once his surprise arrived, he believed the kid might find a reason to be happy again and to start interacting more. Maybe enough to satisfy that IEP team Elise was so concerned about.

  Before today, she’d claimed that getting him to interact would be the best step toward finding him a home. But suddenly, after discovering Jack directed films, she’d decided having a video produced would be his best chance.

  Odd how that all changed after she’d learned about his past.

  He suddenly recalled the first time he saw her, crying out in the woods, her anguished sobs resonating through him. The vision had consumed his thoughts for days. And nights. He’d worried about her, even before he learned that she was real. She’d been so pained. So grief-stricken. Her cries calling to his heart, his spirit.

  What had happened in her past that had so thoroughly tortured her soul?

  Jack didn’t want to know. He didn’t.

  Soon she’d leave. And then he wouldn’t have to see anyone who knew about his profession. No one trying to guilt him into doing something he didn’t want to do. She may have found out about his pain, but he didn’t want to learn about hers. That would make him care more. And he didn’t want to care at all.

  “What are we going to do next?” she asked, as he hammered the lid back onto the polyurethane can.

  He’d thought the guy would’ve brought his surprise by now. He glanced at his watch. “I had expected...”

  A rumble echoed in the distance, but this wasn’t thunder. Jack grinned as the sound got louder, and the large truck made its way up the winding hill that led to Jack’s house. The gravel drive ended at his garage, behind the house, so he motioned for Cody to follow him. “This is my surprise. Come on, I think you’re going to like it.”

  Elise walked on the other side of Cody as they moved around the side of the house, and Jack let her take a few steps ahead of him because he wanted to see her reaction too.

  The guy driving the truck held up a hand as he cleared the trees and started closer to the garage.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  Jack hadn’t expected him to bring an enclosed truck, but that was even better. They’d have to wait a moment before the unveil. “You’ll see.”

  They stopped walking when the guy parked the truck and climbed out.

  “You Mr. Simon?” He had a thick Cajun drawl, which made sense, since Jack had located his surprise in a small town in South Louisiana.

  “I am.” Jack stepped toward the man, and the guy extended a clipboard.

  “Everything’s paid for,” the guy said, “but I’m sure you knew dat.” He grinned broadly. “Gotta tell you, I was a little nervous hauling it. Never had anything—”

  Jack held up a hand. “It’s a surprise.” He nodded toward Cody, whose fingers were thumping at a feverish pace as he stared at the back of the truck.

  “Aw, gotcha.” He looked to Cody. “Well, chère, let me tell you, you’re gonna be mighty happy with what your daddy done brought ya.”

  Jack noticed Elise started to say something, but he shook his head. No need to correct the guy. He’d assumed Jack was Cody’s dad. Nothing wrong with that. A logical assumption.

  The Cajun moved to the back of the truck, and Elise, Cody and Jack followed.

  “You want them to close der eyes?” the Cajun offered.

  Jack liked this guy. “Why not?”

  “Seriously?” Elise asked, but then she looked at Cody, and he’d stopped tapping his fingers and moved his palms over his eyes. “Oh, all right, then.” She slid her eyes closed.

  The guy motioned for Jack to come help him, and Jack jumped up the ramp to view the hidden treasure inside.

  “It’s even better than the pictures.”

  “I shore ain’t seen one any prettier.”

  The Cajun climbed in and put the vehicle in Neutral, then the two of them backed it slowly down the ramp near the garage entrance, where they’d have to push it in. Jack hadn’t wanted one that would run. What would be the fun in that? This way he and Cody could work on it together.

  “Okay,” he said, as the Cajun backed away and placed his hands on his hips to watch the show. “You can open your eyes.”

  Elise was the first to drop her hands, and then drop her jaw. “Jack! Oh, my. It’s...so beautiful.”

  Cody still held his palms in place, and a fragment of fear pinched at Jack. What if he didn’t like surprises? What if this actually made him worse instead of better?

  “It’s okay, Cody,” Elise coaxed in a soothing tone. “Really, I think you’re going to like it.” She put a hand on his right forearm and gently guided it away, and then she did the same with the left.

  Cody kept his eyes closed tight, his head turned to the side and his mouth cringing. He honestly didn’t want to look.

  Jack moved beside the boy who had captured his heart and wrapped an arm around him. “Cody, this isn’t anything bad. It’s very good, in fact, and I would really like for you to open your eyes. I wanted to get something for us to work on together, besides furniture. And I think you’re going to want to see it.”

  The eyes remained shut.

  “Please, Cody,” Jack rasped. “You can trust me. This isn’t anything that will hurt. Open your eyes.” He looked to Elise, saw tears trickling free. “Come on, Cody, I want you to see the surprise. Trust me,” he repeated.

  Cody warily opened his eyes. And started to clap. And smile. And laugh. While Elise continued to cry, and Jack squeezed the boy’s shoulders.

  “I take it you like the surprise, then?” Jack asked, relief flooding through him. “It needs an engine, and a few other things, but nothing we can’t handle together.”

  Cody turned toward Jack, wrapped his arms around him and squeezed. While Jack fought the enormous lump in his throat.

  Then he said, “Do you know what this one is, Cody? It’s a—”

  “It’s a...a...” Cody stuttered, “a 1964 1⁄2, the very first Mustang they made.”

  Elise gasped, while Jack turned toward the child still chattering away.

  “They...they called it a 1⁄2-year model because they released it five months before the normal start of the 1965 production year.”

  The truck driver slapped his hand against his thigh. “Well, that boy you got there is pretty smart, ain’t he?”

  Jack swallowed, squeezed Cody’s shoulders again and didn’t overly mind that this man assumed Cody was his son. “Yes, he is.”

  Chapter Eight

  “And it took us three days to put the new crate engine in, Mark. Then it only took an hour to replace the alternator. We’ve still got to put in the radiator and the water pump. And Mr. Jack is going to pick up the new belts and hoses as soon as the store in Stockville calls. We had to order them custom.” Cody motioned for his cabin counselor and the other boys from his cabin to follow him to the front of the car, where he grinned as he pointed to the engine-in-progress. “Look, Konrad, isn’t it cool?”

  Elise listened to Cody effectively answer each questi
on while she and Jack merely watched, amazed at the transition that had occurred over the past week. Jack knew that Cody had been through intensive therapy with Elise, but still...he’d come so far, and Jack was beyond thrilled to have been a small part of it.

  Elise stated the obvious. “He’s going to do great on that IEP. It’s only three days away, you know.”

  Jack continued cleaning up the work area. He returned a socket wrench to the appropriate slot in its case. “I think you’re right.”

  This was what she’d prayed for, to hear Cody speak again and to see him interact with other kids. As intelligent as she’d expected, Cody could handle his own in any conversation, though he’d always offer more information than was actually needed. However, none of his newfound friends seemed to mind. “He’ll be mainstreamed in the school system, I have no doubt. And then my work here will be done.”

  He’d had a screwdriver in his hand, but he stopped moving toward the large red toolbox and looked at Elise. “So you’ll head back to Birmingham, then.”

  “That’s the plan.” She attempted to keep the sadness from her voice, but failed. “Jack, I know I told you that his chances of being adopted would be greater if he could interact with others, and I still believe that’s true.”

  “Why do I hear a ‘but’ coming?” He dropped the screwdriver into a drawer in the red toolbox.

  Since that night in the rain, he’d spoken to her only when necessary, and she didn’t blame him. She had snooped into his past. Elise could have told him that she’d done it because she had to make sure he was safe to be around Cody, which would have been true. However, that wasn’t the only reason. She’d also simply wanted to know more about Jack.

  But in three days, Cody would probably sail through that IEP interview and be placed in the nondisabled schoolroom. Then she’d return home. And no one would get this man to accomplish what Elise knew he needed to do.

  “But I also think that his chances would be even greater if they could ‘see’ him interacting with other kids, watch him talk about the Mustang, hear him laugh. Potential adoptive families will be told that Cody is autistic. Yes, they will learn that he can interact with others and that he has been mainstreamed at school, assuming he is—”