“I will see you again,” she said, too quickly. “We’re going to be working together.”
“Not good enough.”
“It has to be.”
Just then her rotund, balding boss huffed up with a harried expression on his face. “You’re back, finally!” he said, his tone more worried than accusing, though Dana seemed to hear only an accusation.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Keane,” she apologized at once, her tone uncharacteristically meek. “My lunch hour took longer than I’d planned. I’ll stay late to make up the work.”
He waved off the offer. “No, no, forget the work. You had a call—emergency, they said.”
Dana’s face went pale. “Sammy?”
Jason put his arm around her and felt her whole body trembling. When he took her icy hands in his, she instinctively clung to him. He doubted she was even aware of the contact. She was totally focused on her boss, her expression anxious.
“His school,” Mr. Keane confirmed, “again. They want you there right away. I told them I couldn’t reach you and that I would send you as soon as you got back.”
“Is he sick?” she asked, but Jason suspected she already knew that wasn’t the problem. He wondered how many calls like this she’d had. Neither she nor her boss appeared as shocked as they might have been.
“They didn’t say. Go. I can read any proofs that have to be done today. What I don’t finish, you can do tomorrow.”
Dana dropped Jason’s hand and grabbed her jacket. “Thank you.”
“You’ll let me know what has happened?” Mr Keane asked.
Jason sensed that behind the abrupt facade, the man was genuinely fond of Dana and concerned about Sammy. Obviously, though, he didn’t want her to know how much.
“I’ll call you later,” she promised, as she ran through the shop. Outside she headed straight for the bus stop.
“No. I’ll drive you,” Jason said, surprised that for once she didn’t argue. She simply nodded and turned toward the car. Obviously, where Sammy was concerned, she would make a pact with the devil himself if that’s what it took to reach her errant brother.
Once she’d given him the directions to the school, though, she clammed up. With her gaze fixed on the passing scenery and her hands clasped tensely in her lap, she looked as if she were struggling against tears. For what seemed the hundredth time since he and Dana met, Jason wanted to throttle Sammy for putting that worried crease in her forehead. He searched for some way to comfort her, but words seemed totally inadequate. Besides, anything he could think of to say about Sammy right now would not be a comfort. It would only infuriate her and deepen her pain. Since he couldn’t think of a consoling alternative, he remained as silent as she was.
As they turned the corner in front of the old building, she said stiffly, “Thanks for the lift. You can let me out here.”
He ignored the request, finally pulling into the school’s parking lot. “I’m going with you,” he said blandly, not entirely certain why he felt this need to stick by her. Maybe it was that flicker of fear in her eyes that told him her strength was about at its limits. He told himself if there’d been anyone else she could have turned to, he would have happily left her, but he wasn’t nearly so sure it was as true today as it might have been just yesterday.
Afraid or not, her gaze shot to meet his at last. “No.”
“Save your breath. I’m going.”
“Jason, why? This doesn’t concern you.”
“It concerns you, doesn’t it? If it concerns you, it concerns me.”
“Sammy will just resent your involvement.”
His temper flared and he muttered a harsh curse under his breath. “Frankly, at this point, what Sammy feels doesn’t matter a damn to me.”
Alarm filled her eyes. “I won’t have you yelling at him.”
“He’ll be lucky if I don’t break his neck.”
“You don’t even know what he did.”
“I know that when you heard the school had called, you turned absolutely pale. I have to assume you think it’s pretty bad.”
For an instant she looked as if she was going to argue some more, then her shoulders sagged. “Maybe he just has the flu.”
“You don’t believe that.”
“I want to,” she said so wistfully that it wrenched Jason’s heart.
His tone softened and he gently brushed away the single tear that had dared to track down her cheek. “I’m sure you do. Let’s go see what’s going on. There’s no point sitting here speculating. Whatever it is, we’ll handle it.”
“I’ll handle it.”
The words were filled with Dana’s usual spunk, but Jason couldn’t miss the despair in her eyes, the dejection in the set of her shoulders. For just an instant her lower lip quivered, then as if she’d resolved to tough it out as she always did, she gathered her composure. Clenching her purse so tightly her knuckles turned white, she left the car and stormed off toward the principal’s office like some sort of avenging angel, not waiting to see whether Jason followed. He couldn’t decide whether he wanted to shake her or kiss her. The woman had so much honor, so damned much loyalty, albeit seriously misguided from what he’d seen of Sammy.
Jason could practically hear his father’s voice reminding him that not everyone in the world had it as good as he did and that Hallorans owed it to the less fortunate to give them a helping hand. Up to now his idea of charity had been writing several large checks and putting them in the mail. Maybe it would be good for him to see firsthand what it meant to deal with a troubled kid.
Everyone in the office seemed to recognize Dana the instant she stepped through the door. Gazes met hers and skittered nervously away. Jason did not consider that a good sign. It seemed to confirm his suspicion that these visits happened all too regularly.
“Hi, Ms. Roberts. I’ll get Mr. DeRosario,” the clerk working at the reception desk said. “He wants to see you before you pick up your brother.”
“Is Sammy okay?” Dana asked.
Though the woman looked sympathetic, her only comment was a terse, “Mr. DeRosario will explain.”
Jason took an instant liking to the tall, kind-looking man who stepped out of his office and headed toward them. Though the man’s expression was serious, his eyes were gentle, suggesting a personality that blended discipline and compassion in equal measures. Jason didn’t know much about the education system, but he imagined that the combination was sorely needed in today’s overburdened urban schools.
The man greeted Dana with a smile, then glanced curiously at Jason.
“I’m Jason Halloran, a friend of Ms. Roberts,” he told the principal. “I came along in case there might be something I can do to help.”
“Good.”
“Mr. DeRosario, what happened?” Dana asked. “Is my brother all right?”
“Your brother is fine, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to suspend him.”
“Suspend him?” Dana echoed. She drew in a deep breath, then asked, “Why?”
“He had a knife, Ms. Roberts. He pulled it during an argument with another student.”
“A knife?” she repeated dully. Tears pooled in her eyes, but she managed to keep her voice steady. “Was the other student hurt?”
“No. Thankfully it never went that far. But I cannot tolerate this kind of behavior. We’ve discussed this before. I’ve done my best to make allowances for Sammy’s circumstances, but I won’t allow him to put the other students at risk.”
Dana nodded wearily. “I understand. How long will he be suspended?”
“Two weeks this time.”
“This time?” Jason questioned, barely controlling his own dismay. “He’s done this before?”
The principal nodded. “Sammy seems to feel the solution to his problems is violence. He’s instigated several brawls already this school year.” He turned to Dana. “I understand that things have been difficult for you, but I strongly urge you to get him some counseling.”
“I tried. He won’t go.”
>
“He’ll go,” Jason muttered, daring Dana to contradict him. “Thank you, Mr. DeRosario. I think I understand what’s been happening here. If Sammy can go now, we’ll take him home.”
Mr. DeRosario nodded. “I sincerely hope you can reach him. He’s a bright boy, but he’s going to have serious problems if his attitude isn’t dealt with soon.”
“I assure you it will be,” Jason said.
As soon as the principal had gone after Sammy, Dana whirled on him. “How dare you interfere like that! This has nothing to do with you.”
“It does now.” He wondered if he was losing his mind. Why would a sane man willingly get involved in the salvation of a kid who used a knife to solve his problems? Maybe there was more of Kevin Halloran in him than he’d ever realized. He’d always chalked his father’s do-gooder tendencies up to leftover sixties social consciousness.
“Jason!” Dana protested.
“We’ll discuss it later,” Jason said quietly. “Right now, you and I are going to show your brother a united front.”
“Just why are we going to do that?” she snapped, obviously fuming at his intrusion into what she considered a family matter.
He cupped her face in his hands, barely resisting the desire to kiss away the last traces of tears. “Because if we don’t, Sammy might never have a chance.” He said it slowly and with enough conviction that Dana swallowed whatever she’d been about to say next. She looked thoroughly shaken and, for the first time since he’d met her, she looked defeated. That look touched his soul.
But when Sammy walked out of the principal’s office, Dana squared her shoulders and leveled a no-nonsense look straight at him. Sammy started to protest his innocence, but she glared at him and he fell silent.
“I’ll see you back here in two weeks,” the principal said, his hand on Sammy’s shoulder.
“Whatever,” Sammy said, his tone sullen.
“Think about what we discussed.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Sammy backed toward the door, then whirled and sprinted outside. They caught up with him at the bottom of the steps. No one spoke until they reached the car, then Sammy balked.
“I’m not riding with him,” he said to his sister.
“I’ve had just about all I can take from you for one day. Get in the car. Now!” she said, all of her fury spilling out in that one order.
Sammy took one quick glance at her stormy expression and began to look uncertain for the first time. He climbed in.
When they finally reached Dana’s apartment, the tension in the car swirled like a thick, dispiriting fog. Dana started to open the door, but Jason put his hand over hers.
“In a minute,” he said. “I have to go back to the office, but I want to say something first.” He turned to face Sammy. “I’m sure you love your sister and I’m sure you don’t set out to make her unhappy, but you have. I don’t want it to happen again, so you and I are going to make an effort not only to get along, but to fix that lousy attitude of yours. We’re starting tonight. I’ll pick you up at eight.”
“Not a chance,” Sammy said. “I didn’t commit no crime. I don’t need a probation officer.”
“Actually you did commit a crime. You’ll be very lucky if the other student doesn’t press charges, so don’t smart-mouth me on that score. It’s me or a counselor. Take your pick,” Jason said, his voice clipped. Where the hell was his father when he needed him? Was he going about this the right way? All he had to guide him were his instincts and that faint glimmer of hope that was finally sparking in Dana’s eyes.
Sammy turned pale. He studied Jason closely, as if measuring the chances for a reprieve, then glanced at Dana. Whatever she was thinking about Jason’s plans, she didn’t contradict him. Apparently Sammy decided that his choices truly were limited to those two. “I’ll be ready,” he said resentfully.
Jason nodded. “Good. Bring your gym clothes and sneakers.”
Sammy looked startled. “Why?”
“Just bring them.” He squeezed Dana’s hand. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
She nodded. All the way back to the office, Jason had to fight the image of the fearful expression in her eyes when he’d mentioned the possibility of assault charges. How many times had she walked into that school dreading such an outcome? How much longer could Sammy escape serious jail time? If it took being pals with a juvenile delinquent to wipe away Dana’s fears, then that’s what he was going to do.
For one fleeting instant Jason wished like crazy that he’d had the good sense to override his grandfather’s manipulating moves and refused to work with Dana. What he knew about dealing with a kid as troubled as Sammy would fit on the head of a pin. As for what he knew about a woman like Dana, his expertise failed him there as well, but he was definitely learning fast.
* * *
“CUTE GIRL,” BRANDON HALLORAN observed when Jason finally got to his office. “Reminds me of someone I used to know.”
“I’m surprised you lived to tell about it,” Jason muttered.
Brandon chuckled. “I think you’ll be surprised at just how easily you adapt.”
“I don’t want to adapt.”
“But you will,” Brandon said with confidence. “You will. By the way, I’ve been thinking it’s time to bring your father up to speed on this whole marketing thing we’ve got working. You know how he gets if he thinks one of us is keeping secrets from him. He’s been meaner than a tied-up pit bull these last few weeks. Any idea what’s going on with him?”
“I think he and Mom had some sort of disagreement. Neither one of them is saying much, but the last time I dropped by their house the tension was pretty awful.”
“Think we ought to have a man’s night out at my club and get to the bottom of things?”
“I think if we try, Dad will just clam up or tell us to mind our own damned business.”
Brandon grinned. “Never let that stop me before. No need to stop now. You free tonight?”
“Not really,” he began, then caught sight of the expression on his grandfather’s face. He forgot all too often how lonely things must be for his grandfather since his wife of nearly fifty years, Jason’s grandmother, had died in the spring. Though Brandon put on a good front most of the time, there were times, like now, when his sorrow was unmistakable.
“Tonight would be great, if we can make it early.”
“Early is best for me, too,” Brandon said. “Say six-thirty. You tell your father. Hog-tie him if you have to.”
Jason chuckled at the idea of making Kevin Halloran do anything he’d set his mind against. Of all of them, his father was the most stubborn. “I’ll do my best,” he said.
It looked to Jason as if his entire evening was likely to be spent with men who, with the exception of his grandfather, weren’t particularly interested in sharing his company.
Chapter Eight
Dinner was not a success. Kevin Halloran maintained a stoic silence throughout the meal, responding to questions in terse monosyllables whenever he could get away with it. He barely touched his prime rib, but steadily sipped the cabernet sauvignon. Jason’s frustration matched that of his grandfather’s tone when Brandon finally snapped, “Son, what the hell is wrong with you?”
Raking his hand through blond hair shot with silver, Kevin glared at his father. “Nothing I care to talk about.”
“Well, you’ve made that clear enough. Since when can’t you open up with family?”
His expression utterly exhausted, Kevin rubbed his hand across his eyes. “Dad, please. Drop it. Let’s talk about anything else—the weather, sports—I don’t give a damn. Just leave my state of mind out of the conversation.”
“Granddad’s just worried about you,” Jason reminded him. “So am I. You’ve been like this for weeks now. Are you feeling okay? Have you seen a doctor lately?”
Kevin threw down his napkin and shoved his chair back. “If I’d wanted to be psychoanalyzed, I could have gone home,” he snapped. As if horrif
ied by what he’d revealed as well as the uncharacteristic display of raw anger, he mumbled, “I’m sorry, Dad. Jason. I have things to do. I’ll see you both at the office tomorrow.”
He stalked off, leaving Jason and Brandon to stare at each other in open-mouthed astonishment.
“What do you suppose that was all about?” Brandon said finally. “Kevin’s not a man to lose control.”
“You don’t suppose he and Mom are really having problems, do you? That crack about being psychoanalyzed at home sounded pretty bitter.”
Jason had never been more shaken. The thought that his parents’ marriage might be in serious trouble threw him for a loop. He’d always viewed them as a perfect example of marital harmony. They’d been married nearly thirty years, had known each other since childhood. When he’d been growing up, his home had been filled with laughter and genuine affection. He’d considered himself one of the luckiest kids around. Had something gone terribly wrong in these last two months, something that in his absorption with his own life he had failed to notice?
“Damned if I know what to think,” Brandon responded, his expression bewildered. “I do know that it won’t do us a bit of good to try to pry any more information out of him, while he’s in this mood. Your father’s a proud man. Never was one to share his problems. Never did like anyone to catch him down.”
Brandon suddenly looked weary, every one of his sixty-eight years showing. “Guess I made a mistake in pressing for answers.”
“You were just trying to help. We both were.”
“Maybe so, but I should have known better. It looks like we just made things worse.”
“I’ll talk to Mom,” Jason promised. “Maybe she’ll tell me what’s going on.”
Brandon sighed. “I wish I were closer to your mother. She’s a good woman.”
Jason stared at him in astonishment. “I’ve always thought the two of you got along just fine.”
“We’ve done pretty well at maintaining a truce, but there was a time when she didn’t owe me the time of day. I suspect you know I tried to keep your father away from her. It’s one of my real regrets.”
Jason had heard bits of the story before. He knew that Lacey Grainger Halloran had long since forgiven his grandfather for his interference, that family had always been every bit as important to her as it was to his grandfather and she’d worked hard at mending fences. He’d always thought his grandfather recognized that bond.
Love Page 10