He startled, snapped his gaze down to her.
“What are you doing?” She lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the sun and searched his face for answers. “I told you to wait for me in the classroom.”
“I forgot I was supposed to meet somebody after school. We was…um…gonna walk home together.”
The child was acting stranger by the minute. “Okay, buddy. Come on down and let’s get going.”
Justice scooted to the edge of the slide and pushed off with one hand. In his other hand, he death-gripped a crumpled brown bag. When he reached the ground, Kinley pointed to the sack. “What’s that?”
“It’s nothing. Just a…um…snack…my friend gave me.”
“Do you want me to stick it in your backpack so you don’t have to carry it?”
“No.” He clutched the bag to his chest. “I don’t want it to get squished.”
“Okay.” Kinley didn’t know what was going on with him, but she didn’t like it. Hopefully, she could get some answers out of him during his community service. Resting a hand on his shoulder, she guided him toward the parking lot. “Let’s get to work.”
A few minutes later they pulled up in front of Justice’s house. “Do you want to put your backpack in your house before we start?”
“Yeah. Be right back.” He hopped out of her car and ran through the yard, the brown bag still gripped tightly in his fist.
By the time Kinley had locked her car doors and opened the trunk to put her purse inside, Justice burst back out of his house empty-handed. He jumped from the top of the porch and jogged back to her. “What are we gonna do first?”
“The first order of business is to go talk to Mr. McGuire.”
Justice scrunched his face up. “What for?”
“I think you owe him an apology.”
“Aw, man. I don’t want to talk to him. He probably don’t want to talk to me, neither.”
He probably didn’t want to talk to Kinley, either, but that wasn’t going to stop her. She was willing to risk another tense encounter for the greater good. “Even if he doesn’t, you need to do the right thing. You are sorry, aren’t you?”
He lifted a shoulder and dropped his gaze to his shoelaces. “I guess.”
Kinley tugged on his arm, and they began the short walk to the house next door. “Why’d you do it, anyway?”
He shrugged again.
“Did he do something that made you mad?”
“I don’t know.”
Would this boy ever trust her enough to confide in her, or would it always be a struggle to drag answers out of him? “Well, there had to be some reason.”
“He don’t belong here.”
“What do you mean?” Thankfully, her voice sounded more patient than she felt.
He stopped and looked up at her. “I mean, he don’t belong here. This is our ‘hood.”
Her heart dipped. Maybe he thought she didn’t belong there, either. “Why do you say that?”
“‘Cause he just rolled in here all a sudden with his money and his sweet ride like he owns the whole world. He needs to go back where he came from.”
Disappointment wound through her chest. The child was only ten years old and already the negative voices of his environment had taught him there were invisible boundaries he had to live within. Boundaries that distinguished the insiders from the outsiders. She wanted so much more for him. Wanted him to have the freedom to cross the lines. “Do you think I need to go back to where I came from?”
He tilted his chin up, threaded his brows together. “Why would I think that about you, Miss Reid? You’re not like him.”
“How do you know? I have a nice car, and I don’t live in this neighborhood, just like Mr. McGuire.”
“Man, you drive a Honda.” He chuckled and his voice went up an octave. “That ain’t no nice car.”
“What’s wrong with my Honda? It’s a great car.” She almost got sucked into defending her sweet ride, but thought better of it. “Never mind. Besides the car, what makes me any different from him?”
“You’re my teacher. And you’re not mean like him.”
“Maybe he wouldn’t be mean to you if you hadn’t been mean to him first.”
Justice sighed. “I doubt it.”
Kinley knew he understood what she was saying. He just didn’t like it. “So, you’ll apologize?”
“I guess.”
She squeezed his shoulder. “Good for you. I think you’ll be surprised at how nice Mr. McGuire can be if you get on his good side.”
“He probably don’t even have a good side.”
Kinley clamped her lips shut against a smile and guided Justice to the front door. Nash answered looking much like he had the last time she’d been here, only now the T-shirt was white, and he wasn’t covered in quite as much dirt.
“Hi.” Kinley attempted to lessen the awkward tension that permeated her interactions with the man, but her voice sounded too high and chipper, even to her own ears.
“Miss Reid.” Nash stepped onto the porch and pulled the door closed behind him. “Can I help you?”
“Actually…” Kinley nudged Justice forward. “Justice wanted to speak with you.”
Nash folded his arms and looked down at the boy. “Is that right?”
Justice stared at the concrete porch, but after a gentle tap from Kinley, squared his shoulders and looked Nash in the eye. “I, uh, just wanted to say I’m sorry for what I done to your car.”
Nash cocked an eyebrow, but he didn’t say anything.
Justice added, “I shouldn’t have done all that stuff to it.”
Nash’s expression softened. “Thank you for apologizing. I appreciate that.”
Justice nodded, visibly relieved.
“So have you learned anything from this?” Nash asked.
“Don’t go tagging people’s cars?”
“That’s a good rule to live by. I hope you’ve also learned that every choice you make has a consequence. Good choices will bring good results, but make more choices like that one, and you’ll end up with a lot of regret.”
Justice stiffened but nodded again. He looked at Kinley. “Ain’t we supposed to be working now?”
“Yes.” She put her arm around him and looked at Nash. “As you know, Justice has to do quite a bit of community service. We thought the best place to start would be here, helping you.”
His eyes dulled. “I told you not to get any ideas. This is what I meant.”
He could try all he wanted to intimidate her with his razor-sharp glare, but she wouldn’t back down. She met his stare with a steely one of her own and pressed on. “You just said yourself that every choice has a consequence. What better way to reinforce that principle than to let him work here? He’s trying to make things right.”
He hesitated, and the shadowy curtain dropped behind his eyes. It seemed he was having quite a debate with himself. She could almost picture the little angel on one shoulder, the demon on the other.
“We could pick up trash or do anything else you need,” she added.
He was quiet for a few more seconds, and then he sighed. “Fine. I’ve got some stuff you can do in the back yard.” He brushed past them and descended the steps two at a time with long, muscular legs. “Follow me.”
Kinley and Justice followed him to the back yard, and he handed them each a black trash bag from a box on the edge of the crumbling patio. “I need all this trash picked up.”
“We can definitely do that. Can’t we, Justice?”
“Yeah.” He didn’t sound very excited about it, though.
“There are some gloves over here, if you need them,” Nash said. “I’ve got some stuff to work on inside the house.”
After the back screen slammed behind Nash, Kinley grabbed some work gloves and turned to Justice, handing him a pair. “See? That wasn’t so bad. You did well.” She reached over and patted his arm as he tugged an oversized glove onto his small hand.
“I guess.”
&n
bsp; “Okay.” She surveyed the yard. “Let’s start over there by the fence and work our way toward the house.”
They stepped through the overgrown grass and dodged as much trash as possible as they made their way to the far side of the yard.
“Why’s there so much trash back here anyway?” Justice hopped over part of an old, broken lawn chair.
Same reason there’s so much trash in your yard, bud. “Because no one took the time to throw it away where it belongs.” Kinley held the trash bag under one arm while she tugged on the gloves.
“So why’s Mr. McGuire wanting it cleaned up now?”
She’d wondered the same thing. “I don’t know. Maybe you should ask him.”
He grunted.
They began to work, picking up cans, bottles, cartons, and plastic sacks. They found countless cigarette butts, broken toys, stray socks, and three shoes that didn’t belong together. Kinley had never been so glad for a pair of gloves in her life.
#
Nash tried to focus on painting the bathroom but caught himself staring out the window every other minute. He should’ve been grateful to have two new helpers working in the backyard, but the sense that he’d just been shoved into the deep end overshadowed any thankfulness that tried to surface. Why had he agreed to let them work here? Having a nosey teacher and a juvenile delinquent around would only complicate matters, not to mention slow him down. Throw his ex-convict brother into the mix, and it was a big, dysfunctional reno-party Nash had never planned to throw.
Even so, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from Kinley. The autumn sun cast highlights on her auburn hair, and her ponytail fell in a beautiful cascade over her shoulder as she worked. Even from here Nash could see the sparkle in her eye when she talked to the kid. Nosey or not, there was something magnetic about her.
He shook his head and turned away from the window, forcing himself back to work. He fought the pull of the window for a solid hour, driving himself insane and making little progress on the bathroom project. When a knock finally sounded at the front door, he was ready for a break and rushed to answer it.
Kinley and her sidekick stood on the porch. The afternoon had warmed up, and they both wore a sheen of sweat. Well, she wore a sheen. The kid needed a shower.
“We’re finished with the backyard .” Kinley slipped off her work gloves and dangled them from one hand. “Should we work on the front, or do you have another job for us?”
Nash held up one finger. “Hang on. Be right out.” He grabbed three bottles of water from the fridge and headed back to join them.
Justice was propped against the edge of the porch, and Kinley sat beside him with her knees pulled to her chest.
Nash gave each of them a water bottle and stood a few feet from Kinley. She twisted the top off the water and tipped it to her lips. A few stray hairs had escaped her rubber band and hung loose, framing her face. Maybe it was the humidity that made them curl. Too humid for this time of year, that was for sure, and the way her T-shirt clung to her torso like that …
Nash glanced away and swallowed.
“Thank you,” Kinley said.
Justice didn’t say anything, so she prodded him with a raised eyebrow. He rolled his eyes and mumbled a weak, “Thanks.” Must’ve been good enough for Kinley, because she didn’t press him further.
The boy fiddled with the label on his water bottle. “Can I go to my house for a minute?”
“Sure,” Kinley said. “We’ll start working again soon, so hurry back.”
Nash and Kinley watched him run across the yard, over the driveway, and up the stairs through his front door. They didn’t speak for a few moments, and Nash wondered how long she’d be able to stand the silence. He’d give her less than five seconds.
One.
Two.
“So, what all are you planning to do around here?”
Nash bit back a smile. “I’m overhauling the whole house. Inside, it’ll have a new kitchen, new bathroom, and new paint and flooring. Out here, I’ll repair everything, re-paint the siding, do some landscaping, and give it a boost in curb appeal. As soon as all the junk is cleaned up out here, I’ll be able to mow and trim. That alone will help the look of the place quite a bit.”
“Wow. That’s going to be a lot of work. What are you going to do with it when you’re done? Move in?”
“Hardly.” He laughed. “I’m going to sell it.”
“Oh. Well, someone will definitely benefit from all your labor. It’ll be great when it’s done.”
“I hope so. I’m ready to get it off my hands.”
“What’s the rush?”
He’d managed to avoid dealing with it since his mom’s death, but now the City was threatening him with a hefty fine if he didn’t get the property cleaned up. The sooner he sold it, the sooner he could get out of this God-forsaken neighborhood and put his past to rest for good. “Just ready to move on to something else.”
She nodded. “This will be the nicest house in the neighborhood when you’re finished, no doubt about it.”
He looked out over the yard to the surrounding homes. Everything in sight was in disarray. “I don’t know how people can live like this.” It came out a whisper, but he hadn’t meant to speak it aloud at all. It wasn’t that he was judging, he just truly couldn’t comprehend how people could function when everything around them was chaotic and disorderly. The thought of it made his soul feel weary.
“I think for most of them, every part of life feels out of control.” The familiar gleam of compassion shone in her eyes. “They’re struggling to survive day-to-day, so taking care of the lawn or the house is beyond the scope of what they’re able to do.”
A deep sadness filled him. She was right, of course. He’d seen his own mom battle with simply getting out of bed and staying sober every day. Most days she lost. Why did the world have to be this way?
“So, when did you buy this house?”
Kinley’s voice, light and sweet, cut through his dark memories and snapped him back from that troubled place. “I didn’t buy it.” He leaned against the edge of the porch and placed his water bottle beside him. “It was my mother’s.”
Her hazel eyes bulged, brows shooting toward her hairline.
Nash chuckled. “Not the answer you were expecting?”
“No, actually. I just assumed you were fixing it up as a rental property or something.”
“No. Not a chance. This neighborhood is not a good investment.”
“From a business perspective, no, I guess it’s not. But the people are definitely worth investing in. Where is your mom now?”
“She died a little over five years ago.”
“I’m sorry.” She paused and glanced around, eyeing the run-down house. “So it’s been sitting empty all this time? What kept you away for so long?”
“Yeah.” He ground the toe of his shoe into the grass. “It’s hard for me to come back here.” She must’ve thought he was a lunatic, or worse, a slacker. Who waited five years to finalize a loved one’s affairs?
Whatever she thought of him didn’t alter the compassion in her eyes. She simply nodded and continued with her questions. “How long did she live here?”
“We moved in when I was eleven.”
Her eyes widened again. “I can’t picture you living in Martindale. You’re so…”
“Rich-boy-like?” He grinned.
“Yes.” Her laughter did something funny to his insides. “Something like that.” She watched him for a moment with narrowed eyes. “How did a kid who grew up in Martindale turn out to be so successful?”
“I fought for it with everything in me. I was determined not to end up like everyone else I knew.”
The front door of the neighboring house slammed, and Justice hopped off his porch. Good thing, too, because who knew how many more questions were stirring in that brain of Kinley’s. And for whatever reason, Nash had answered them, revealing pieces of his life he’d kept guarded for years.
Kinley
watched Justice as he made his way back to them. “He’s a good kid, you know?”
Nash had no response. Good kids didn’t destroy other people’s property, but somehow the teacher didn’t see that as part of the criteria.
“He made a bad decision, that’s all. He needs someone to help him succeed.” She angled her head and locked eyes with him. “Someone like you.”
Cold dread rolled through Nash. Not this again. He had scores of reasons not to get involved, and he planned to tell her as much, but Justice jumped to a stop in front of them. Perfect timing.
She flashed an innocent smile. “So, what would you like us to do next?”
Nash swallowed his protest, drank what remained of his water, and screwed the lid back on the empty bottle. “Let’s try to finish the yard, and that will do it for today.”
Justice grabbed his gloves and headed to the far edge of the yard. Kinley pushed herself up from the porch, dusted herself off, and spoke to Nash in a low voice. “Just so you know, I think you need him as much as he needs you. And I plan to keep at it until I convince you I’m right.”
“Thanks for the warning.” His voice was flat.
She could hound him all she wanted, but it’d be an utter waste of time and energy. If she thought Nash McGuire needed anything associated with Martindale, she had another think coming.
#
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Saving Justice by Susan Crawford
Secondhand Cowboy by Lacy Williams
The Art of Falling by Julie Jarnagin
Kiss the Cowboy by Julie Jarnagin
Firefly Summer by Kathleen Y’Barbo
Journeys of the Heart (an anthology) by Erica Vetsch, Winnie Griggs and Camille Elliott Seaside Gifts by Gayle Roper Love’s a Stage by Rene Gutteridge and Cheryl McKay
Copyright © 2015 Julie Jarnagin
Scripture taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide.
The Art Of Falling Page 17