by Lois Richer
“Mom makes the best birthday cakes, Grandma. Wait till you taste it. It’s triple chocolate.” Cory blew out the candles. “I’ll cut you a piece.”
“No, thank you, dear. I simply can’t tolerate sickly sweet things. But Brianna knows that. I’m sure she’s prepared something else for me.”
In fact Brianna hadn’t because she’d never known her mother to refuse anything sweet. So she sat there, with everyone’s eyes on her, wishing she could sink through the floor.
“I’d love a piece, Cory.” Zac’s voice cut across the strain. “Chocolate cake is my favorite. I can’t bake it and I never buy it because I’d eat the whole thing myself. But it’s your birthday and I’m splurging. Make it a big piece.” He held out his plate.
Cory’s friends echoed that response, and soon most plates were heaped with Brianna’s chocolate confection. Except her mother’s.
“It’s really good, Grandma. Couldn’t you try a little piece?” Cory begged.
“No, thank you, dear. I’ll just watch you all enjoy it. I understand that your mother forgot about me. After all, she doesn’t see me much, does she?”
On and on the complaints went. Brianna tried to ignore them but her father’s pleading look forced her to return to the kitchen and scour the fridge for something for her mother. She scooped out a bowl of raspberry gelatin.
“Perhaps you’d prefer this,” Brianna said setting it down in front of her mother.
“No, thank you. We have that every day at the home. Don’t fuss about me,” her mother said in a suffering tone. “I’ve gone without many times.”
There was simply nothing to do but try to enjoy the rest of the evening. Cory loved the biking gear his pals gave him. He looked intrigued by the book on surfing, which Zac offered. He yelped with excitement when he opened the game system Brianna had chosen. But his biggest response came from the check his grandmother gave him.
“Five hundred dollars?” he squealed. “Wow! Thank you.” He hugged her and she hugged him back. “I can do a lot with this.”
“Honey, remember the rule.” Brianna had always insisted Cory put birthday money into a special account, half for future schooling, and half to save for something special. But as she noticed the speculative gleam in her mother’s eyes and the way she looked from Cory to herself, Brianna let it go. Later she’d have a talk with her son. “That’s very generous, Mom and Dad,” she murmured.
“Actually, that’s from your mother. My gift is out here. Follow me.” Her dad, his grin a mile wide, proudly led the way to the back porch and when everyone was there, swooped the blanket off a lump which turned out to be a restored remote-control airplane.
“Cool, Grandpa.” Cory’s jaw dropped.
Brianna couldn’t help but smile when her father hunkered down to explain things to Cory and his friends. He looked ten years younger.
“It doesn’t look very sturdy, Hugh,” her mother whined. “It will probably crash the first time he flies it.”
“It’s a wonderful gift, Dad,” Brianna said, delighted when her father’s dimmed joy returned. At that moment she couldn’t take one second more of her mother’s negativity. “I’ll get us all something to drink,” she said, and hurried back to the dining room, wondering why she’d ever thought coming home would work.
“I’ll help you clear.” Zac spoke from directly behind her. With an ease that spoke of his previous job in a restaurant, he stacked the dirty dishes while she stored the leftovers. “I’m actually pretty adept at making coffee, too,” he offered.
“Go for it. Strong and black,” she muttered, inwardly seething at her mother’s behavior.
“It’s a nice party,” Zac said as he set aside the extra napkins with Happy Birthday printed on them. “You have a knack for creating them. You’re also a very good cook. That chicken was amazing.”
“Thank you.” Brianna sighed. No point in punishing Zac because her family was so messed up. “Thanks for giving Cory that book on surfing in Hawaii. Maybe something in it will finally spark some interest in him.”
“He sure asked a lot of questions when he returned my book.” His hand brushed hers as he helped load the dishwasher. His touch set off a chain reaction in her nerves.
“I guess I picked it up with my packages. Sorry.” She closed the dishwasher door and edged away, wishing Zac didn’t always have this stupid effect on her. “But that wasn’t my only mistake yesterday. It seems I also bought a book without knowing it.”
“Oh? Any good?” He leaned against the counter and watched her, which made her even more uncomfortable.
“Actually, yes. It’s got me thinking about a whole new perspective on God.”
“That’s a good thing. Isn’t it?” His dark eyes followed her as she pulled out cups for the coffee.
“Yes, it is,” Brianna agreed, swallowing hard. Why did Zac still have to be so good-looking? She put the mugs on a tray, added the cream and sugar and drinks for the boys and her mother while she struggled to come up with a way to ask what was on her mind. Finally she just said it. “Zac, have you given any thought to doing something with Cory?”
“No.” His relaxed look disappeared. “Not yet.”
“I’m not trying to push you, but I am getting really concerned. There was an odd smell in the garage last night. I think someone was smoking something. Aside from those two—” she jerked a thumb over her shoulder toward the porch “—Cory doesn’t seem to have made any other friends. When I ask, he won’t talk to me about it.” Brianna watched Zac’s long lashes droop down, hiding the expression in his eyes. “I’m really worried about him getting into trouble,” she whispered. “Cory’s got to turn things around and he only has until Christmas to do it. I can’t stand by and let the judge send him to detention. I just can’t.”
Brianna hated that she sounded so desperate. She was a child psychologist. She was supposed to know how to deal with kids. She should certainly be able to motivate her own son.
“I’ll come up with something,” Zac promised, his soothing tone smoothing her irritation. “Don’t worry about it.”
“He’s my child,” she whispered. “I can’t help worrying.”
Zac’s eyes narrowed as his gaze met hers, but he nodded as if he understood. He studied her for a few more minutes before he spoke, his voice quiet but determined.
“I need to apologize for losing my temper with you. It wasn’t your fault I was terrible at that presentation. I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you. But my lousy performance proves one thing.”
“It does?” Brianna frowned. “What does it prove?”
“That I should not be in the forefront of Your World. Any more public stuff and I’ll take a backseat. Agreed?”
“But, Zac, that was one time. You can’t give up—”
“Hey, Zac. Come and look at this.” Cory’s voice echoed through the house.
“I guess we’d better get out there.” Zac picked up the tray and headed for the porch.
Brianna followed more slowly with the coffee and a pitcher of iced tea, her heart whispering a plea to the only One who understood how much she wanted to help Zac, Cory and any others He set in her path.
* * *
“This movie is awful.”
Mentally, Zac totally agreed with Cory’s assessment.
“Why don’t we shut it off and make some dinner,” he suggested, glad when the boy quickly surged to his feet. “I’m starving.”
Their night together two weeks after Cory’s party wasn’t off to a great start. Zac knew he had to do something. Since Cory had asked him numerous questions about grilling and other cooking skills, Zac decided to show him how to use the barbecue to cook meat, veggies and even dessert.
“You could make this on your own,” he suggested later when the boy had cleaned his plate.
“I don’t think I could make this.”
“Practice makes perfect,” Zac assured him. He reminded Cory of how easy it had been to prepare everything. “You could give your mom a break from cooking. She’d like that, wouldn’t she?”
“I guess.”
Zac heard something unsaid in that weak response, so he probed for more information.
“Doesn’t she want you to cook?”
“She’d probably like it. She’s kind of tired lately.” Cory didn’t look at him.
“Is she sick?” Zac held his breath waiting for an answer. How stupid was that. As if Brianna’s health was his issue.
“No. I think it’s about work. I heard her talking on the phone to some parents last night. It sounded like they were really mad at her.” Cory carried the used dishes to the counter and began stacking them in the dishwasher.
“I wouldn’t worry. Your mom is very good at negotiation. She used to talk my mom into lots of things when we were kids.” Zac smiled at the memories.
“I heard you were friends with her.” A bitter tone kept Cory’s voice surly. “Of course my mother never told me about it. I didn’t even know I had grandparents until we were moving here.”
“Some people don’t like to talk about the past.” Zac wondered why Brianna hadn’t bothered to tell her son about her own childhood.
“Mom never talks about the past. She changes the subject when I ask.” Cory leaned against the counter as he spoke. “I think she kept everything a secret from me deliberately.”
“Maybe she did,” Zac defended. “But I’m sure she was only doing what she thought was best for you. After all, she’s a single mom trying to raise you and do her job. It can’t be easy.”
“I guess not.” Cory poured himself a glass of water and sipped it. “After my dad died, she took as many courses as she could from home, so she could stay with me. I remember getting up once for a drink of water. It was really late. She’d fallen asleep on top of her books.” He took the utensils Zac handed him and began drying. “When I went to school, she went to college. But she was always home before me and if I had a sick day, she stayed with me and caught up her stuff the next day.”
“Your mom sounds like she did a lot to give you the best life possible. You are the most important person in her world, Cory. That’s why she’s tried so hard to make a good life for you.” Zac wondered what was beneath the boy’s comments.
“Maybe.” Cory dried the items, stored them in the drawer, then returned to his water.
“Maybe?” Zac frowned. “You don’t think your mother loves you?”
“Yeah, she does. But—it doesn’t make sense,” Cory blurted out when the silence stretched tissue thin.
“What doesn’t?” Zac dished out two cones, handed one to Cory, then led the way to his patio.
“Having me to look after, it was hard for her. I could see that. But now I realize she didn’t have to do it all herself. I have a grandmother and a grandfather! They would have helped her, I know they would.” Anger brought red dots of color to his cheeks.
“Cory, you don’t know what happened back then,” Zac interrupted but Cory wasn’t listening.
“Everybody had somebody for Christmas. A family. An uncle, an aunt, grandparents. We never did. Mom and I went to church like all the other families, but we always came home alone.”
Since he’d done the same thing after his mother’s death, Zac’s heart ached for the hurting boy. “I’m sorry.”
“So am I, but so what? Mom could have changed that and she didn’t.” Cory’s bottom lip jutted out. “If we had moved here when I was starting school, I’d have had a family for all the special times. I’d be like all the other kids. I’d have fit in. Instead I’m the oddball.”
“Well, living here didn’t help me much,” Zac confessed, suppressing his reticence to try and help Brianna’s child. “We moved to Hope when I was five, after my dad died in a car accident. But I never fit in. I was the oddball around here for years.”
“But then what? You finally figured out how to fit in?” Cory frowned at him.
“No.” Zac did not want to list his insecurities, but for the first time since he’d met Brianna’s son, he saw real interest flare in the kid’s eyes. He couldn’t ignore the opportunity to engage him, because Brianna had asked him to do just that and there was no way Zac would let her down.
“Then?” Cory prodded.
“After a while I figured out that it didn’t matter what other people thought about me, I had to be myself.” Zac shrugged. “So I did my thing and eventually I found some friends. Kent, your mom, Jaclyn, Nick Green, Shay Parker. We learned that each of us had something special to share with the others.”
“Hokey.” Cory tilted his nose in the air.
“Maybe.” Zac shrugged. “The point is I was still a nerd, Cory. But with my friends, that didn’t seem to matter so much because we cheered on each other, helped each other reach our goals.”
“You didn’t cheer on my mom while she worked on her goal to be a psychologist.” Cory glared at him. “You couldn’t have. Because I never even heard of you till we moved here.”
Zac hesitated. He did not want to get into the past. With anyone. If he told Cory the truth, the kid might start to think his father had been second best or worry he was second best. Neither were true. Brianna had dumped Zac and by doing so, made it clear to everyone that he didn’t meet her expectations.
The sting of that still burned.
“You’re not going to tell me the truth about the past, either, are you?” Cory snorted his disgust. “Because I’m a kid who can’t understand. Everybody thinks kids don’t deserve to know the truth. Well, I know the truth. Grandma told me you and my mom were going to get married but my mom messed it up.”
Aghast that Brianna’s mother had spoken to Cory about the past, and maligned her daughter in the process, Zac gulped as he searched for a way to end this.
“That’s not exactly right, Cory. Your mom and I were engaged in college but we broke up. That was a long time ago. People change. Things change.”
“Why did you break up?” Cory’s eyes bored into him.
“Our past is between us—private.” Zac had to end this, and fast. Revealing personal details was not part of helping Cory. “If you want to know more you should ask your mother. She will tell you what she wants you to hear.” He almost felt sorry for the grilling Brianna might have to endure from this kid.
“You think she’ll tell me about your past? Like she told me about my grandparents? I doubt it.” Cory’s mutinous face reflected his scorn. “I’ll ask Grandma. She doesn’t think I’m a dummy. She always tells me the truth.”
“Does she?” Zac asked quietly, then left it hanging, hoping those words would raise some doubts in Cory’s mind. “It’s getting late. I’ll walk you home. I missed my run today.”
Cory trailed him to the door, pausing to graze one finger over the book on South America. “Are you planning on taking a trip there or something?”
“Yes.” Zac held the door open and waited for him to walk through. “Actually I’m hoping to use my Christmas holidays for a trek down the Amazon. I need to do a little more research first, though. I like to really study a place before I go there. Gives me more appreciation for it.”
“From the look of all your pictures you’ve gone to lots of places,” Cory mused, trying not to sound too interested.
“Quite a few.” Zac listed several treks. “Haven’t done the South Pole yet so that’s on my list of to dos.” Because Cory seemed interested, he told the boy a little about the places he’d seen. “I want to go back to Hawaii, too. I love it there.”
“I knew some kids in my old school that went to Hawaii. They had awesome pictures.” Was there a hint of longing in the boy’s voice? But he said nothing more and they soon rea
ched his home.
“Well, thanks for sharing my dinner, Cory. Sorry the movie was a bust.”
“That’s okay.” Cory raced up the three stairs to the house and yanked open the door. “I’m not big on horror flicks anyway. See ya.”
Zac turned to leave.
“You rented a horror movie to show my son?” Brianna emerged from the side of the house, lips pursed tight, fingers taut around a small metal weeding tool. Her short hair curled in damp wisps around her gorgeous face.
“No!” Startled, Zac regrouped. “I mean, I did, but I didn’t know it was horror! Cory didn’t tell me that when I asked him what he wanted to see. Anyway, we shut it off because it was boring.”
The steely sparks in her change-color eyes lost a bit of hardness. She sighed.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to jump. I’m just a little on edge today.”
“Cory said you were getting flack from some parents.” He watched the tiredness bow her slim body. “The Larsens again?”
“And two others whose kids are beginning to talk about doing something with their lives other than maintaining the family business.” She stared at him as if to remind him that she had done the same thing when she was their age. “What am I supposed to do? Tell the kids to forget their dreams?” Brianna made a face as she shook her head. “Forget I said that. Everything is supposed to be confidential.”
“I can look it up in their records,” he reminded her, glancing around. He couldn’t prove it, but he had a hunch Cory was somewhere close, listening to them. “You look beat. Want to go for a milk shake? I’m buying.”
Brianna blinked, her eyes huge below her spiky bangs. “A milk shake?”
“Pearson’s still serves them, you know. With real whipped cream.” When it looked as if she’d refuse, he leaned nearer and murmured, “I need to talk to you. Privately.”
Brianna caught on immediately.
“A milk shake sounds excellent.” She glanced behind her, nodded and said, “I’ll make sure Dad doesn’t have to go out again so he can stay with Cory.”