by Jenna Mindel
Beth directed the kids as they left, all while keeping a close eye on Corey, who looked devastated. She gathered his things from the cubby locker and dropped them on the seat next to him. Beth was about to sit down and have a chat with him when Nick Grey popped into the classroom.
“Hey, bud, why the long face?”
Corey quickly shoved the work sheet into his backpack and shrugged.
Nick looked at her for direction. For the meaning behind his son’s sulk.
She smiled, but her mind churned. “If you both don’t mind waiting a few minutes while I clean off my desk, we’ll head over to my mom’s.”
Corey’s head jerked up, his demeanor totally changed. “We’re going to your house?”
“Yes. To meet my mother.” That was all Beth would say, in case Nick chose another option for Corey’s after-school care.
“Cool.” Corey slipped into a navy windbreaker.
“Do you want us to wait in the car?” Nick’s worried gaze lingered on his son.
“Oh, no. I’ll only be a minute.” Beth kept her voice upbeat, but her initial worries about Corey returned.
Why had he been upset over a short reading assignment? The subject matter had been harmless enough. Tall ships and their sails. She’d have to talk to his father about that.
By the time they crossed the street, Beth had decided on discretion when she talked to Nick Grey. This was only Corey’s second day in her class. New school, new home, no friends yet—it all added up to stress. Her principal hadn’t received Corey’s transcripts from his old school yet, so she shouldn’t jump to conclusions.
Beth opened the front door and sniffed. Her mom had been baking. Nice. She gestured for Nick and Corey to come in and then kicked off her shoes. “Mom? I’m home and I brought guests as promised.”
Her mother came toward them and looked right at Corey. “You must be hungry for a snack. I’ve got chocolate chip cookies straight from the oven.”
Corey nodded and then looked at his dad.
“Thank you, Mrs. Ryken, that sounds wonderful.” Nick held out his hand. “My name’s Nick Grey and this is my boy, Corey.”
Her mom gave her a quick wink. “Yes, Beth told me about you both. Come on into the kitchen.”
The kitchen smelled like melted butter and chocolate, and Beth got busy pouring glasses of milk while her mom passed around a plate of warm cookies. Corey appeared to be on his best behavior. He took a napkin and carefully spread it on his lap before eating. That was definitely not a trick he’d learned from his father. Nick wolfed down a cookie with one bite while reaching for another.
Beth quietly slipped into a seat and grabbed a cookie, giving Corey a smile.
“I see you like flowers,” Nick said. “There’s quite a few in your yard.”
Her mom nodded. “I love having them pop up willy-nilly every spring. They keep spreading and I love the surprise of where they’ll go next. I won’t mow my lawn until after they’ve bloomed. But my annuals are a little more organized.”
That answer seemed to please him, and Beth nearly laughed. Nick was using her mother’s erratic gardening as some sort of test, and evidently, she’d passed the first question.
“Beth, why don’t you take Corey to fill up the birdfeeders while I talk to his father?” Her mom peeked at Nick over her designer-brand reading glasses. “If that’s okay with you.”
“It is.” Nick smiled. It was an awkward smile, as if he wasn’t used to doing it.
Beth let her gaze linger. Smiling was definitely something Nick should do more of.
Turning to the man’s son, Beth slapped her hands on her lap. “What do you think, Corey? Do you mind going outside with me?”
The boy had finished his second cookie and had chocolate smeared in the corners of his mouth. He gave her a heart-stealing grin. “Okay.”
Beth held out her hand to the boy. “Let’s go. I’m going to need your help.”
They stepped out of the kitchen onto the back deck. She knew they were in full view of Nick and her mom. A year before Beth’s father died, he had installed big windows and a sliding glass door along the back wall of the kitchen as a Mother’s Day present. Their backyard was large and her mother had birdfeeders scattered everywhere. Didn’t matter where a person sat in the kitchen or living room, they’d have a clear view of birds scattering seeds.
Beth opened the door to the shed and grabbed a bucket. “So what happened today, Corey? Why don’t you want to do the homework assignment?”
The boy shrugged. “I just don’t.”
She filled the bucket with birdseed and handed it to him. “Did you have homework at your old school?”
He shook his head.
“Did you get it done in school, then?”
He shrugged. “Grandma didn’t give homework.”
Beth frowned. “Tell me about your grandma.”
“She used to read to me a lot and show me how to count.”
“What about your teacher? Did she read to you, too? Or did she have you read the stories on your own?”
Corey stopped filling a low birdfeeder and looked at her as if she’d missed the obvious. “Grandma was my teacher.”
“Oh.” Beth closed her eyes. She definitely needed more information. She needed to talk to Nick.
* * *
Nick watched his son with Beth. He could tell that Corey talked to her. As they filled birdfeeders, Corey chatted easily.
He glanced at Beth’s mom, who’d been watching him. She was a nice lady, if a little scattered. “I think Corey will do well here after school.”
“I’d love to have him, and this works well with my weekday shift of seven till noon at the airport. Plenty of time for me to run errands and get home to meet Corey.”
“Some weeks I’ll have midweek days off and work the weekend. Would you mind Corey hanging out during the day on a weekend?”
Mary’s brow furrowed. “What is it that you do?”
“I start with the sheriff’s department in a few days.”
Mary Ryken’s eyebrow lifted, but the expression on her face had fallen into disappointment. “You’re in law enforcement.”
“Yes, ma’am. A deputy.” Nick drained his glass of milk. Mary had offered him cookies until he’d stuffed himself.
“My husband worked for the same but was killed on duty.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry for your loss.” He’d looked it up. It was what made her a good choice. Mary understood a cop’s life. She’d lived it. She’d understand if his shift ran late.
Her eyes grew stern. “Don’t let it happen to you. That boy needs you.”
Nick nodded. It was why he was here. Why he’d transferred out of undercover work. “I don’t plan on it.”
“No one ever plans on it, but it happens. And it happens to the best of them.” Mary’s tone hardened.
He waited for her to pass on watching Corey but she didn’t say a word, only looked at him expectantly.
“The job’s yours if you want it.”
“I do.” She smiled. “And weekends are no trouble. I’m a homebody on weekends, and Corey can go with me to church if that’s okay with you. Our church has a good children’s program.”
“That would be great. We need to find one anyway.” He wanted to get back in the habit of going when he wasn’t working. It’d been a long time. A dry time.
Again Nick glanced out of the large windows. Beth and Corey had finished filling the birdfeeders and sat on a wooden swing together. Corey laughed at something Beth said. His son looked like what a seven-year-old should look like. Carefree.
Since he’d taken Corey back from his grandparents, the boy acted so careful, careful in what he did and said—if he said anything. Nick had learned to accept shrugs as their primary mode o
f communication. His boy had a lot to say to Miss Ryken.
Mary glanced at the clock.
Nick followed her gaze. It was closing in on four-thirty. Time to leave.
Mary smiled. “Why don’t you and Corey stay for dinner?”
That surprised him, but then it didn’t. If Mary Ryken cooked half as well as she baked, they were in for a real treat. He’d like to see how Corey responded to her. “Thank you, Mrs. Ryken. I appreciate your offer. We’ll stay.”
The woman stood. “Good, and please call me Mary.”
“What can I do to help?” He also got to his feet.
“Not a thing.” She waved him away and then stepped out of the sliding glass door. “Beth, why don’t you show Nick around since Corey will be coming here after school. And, Corey, would you like to help me in the kitchen?”
Nick gave Mary a double take. She’d turned down his help.
As if sensing his confusion, Mary explained, “I might as well get to know the boy a little better, and you’ll want to make sure everything is secure for him here. Beth will show you.”
“Oh. Yeah, thanks.” For a minute there, Nick thought she was throwing him and her daughter together.
Corey raced into the kitchen. “Really, I get to come here after school?”
Nick folded his arms. “That okay with you?”
His son nodded.
Nick remembered Corey’s comment about Beth reminding him of his mom. Of Nick’s wife. Was that why his son wanted to come here? To recapture a feeling of home and what he’d lost?
“Corey, why don’t you wash your hands in the bathroom around the corner and then come back and I’ll tell you what I need you to do.” Mary had a nice way of issuing orders.
“Yes, ma’am.” Corey had a nice way of following them, and he slipped out of sight.
Nick’s sense of ease at this choice hit a speed bump when Beth walked into the kitchen. Seeing her regularly might be a problem. He couldn’t muddy the waters of his life with an ill-timed relationship. Not when he needed to rebuild his relationship with Corey.
He sure could use a friend, though, and she was Corey’s teacher. Keeping it friendly presented a unique challenge considering his track record. But it was only a couple of months until school was done. He’d figure out somewhere else for Corey to spend his days during the summer months because Mary worked in the mornings.
Surely he’d survive the next two months. They’d all survive.
Beth stood before him. “I’ll give you the tour.”
“We’re staying for dinner.” He watched her reaction closely.
“Mom always makes more than enough.” She gave him another sunny smile.
“Do you mind?” They’d invaded her space.
“Not at all. Come on. We can chat about Corey.”
Nick blanched at the serious teacher look on Beth Ryken’s face. He got the feeling that she’d found something wrong with his boy and he was going to hear about it. “Lead the way.”
It didn’t take long to walk through the downstairs. Each room looked crowded with wall hangings and books and knickknacks. Beth’s mom had collected a lot of stuff over the years, and that stuff seemed to pop up in odd spots like her flowers outside.
“There’s a bathroom and two bedrooms upstairs. Just so you know, my father was in law enforcement and we have his firearms. But they’re locked in a safe upstairs.”
“No problem.” Nick had guns at home, too, locked up where Corey couldn’t get at them.
Someday he’d teach his son how to use and respect them. He’d start off with the BB gun his father had given Nick when he was Corey’s age. Keeping that gun had been one of many disagreements between him and Susan. She didn’t want their boy following in his father’s footsteps.
Nick stepped outside with Beth. The day had grown warm enough to forego jackets. The backyard was surrounded by a tall wooden fence. Huge trees grew along the other side and their branches shaded part of the yard, lending more privacy.
One of Mary’s more organized flower beds had been set up in the corner, complete with statues and greens poking up through the soil. The yard felt secluded, winsome even, as if he might find a secret passageway to some imaginary land, if a person was given to that kind of fancy. He wasn’t.
He glanced at Beth. “You wanted to talk about Corey?”
She nodded and headed for the swing she’d occupied with his son earlier. “Maybe we should sit down.”
He swallowed hard. “Okay....”
Whatever she had to say wasn’t going to be good. It hadn’t been good at Corey’s previous school, either. The social worker there had said Corey displayed antisocial behavior. What was so antisocial about being quiet? Corey had been withdrawn, but Nick couldn’t blame the kid. He’d lost his mom, and that school worried about how often he colored with a black crayon!
He waited for her to get comfortable before settling himself next to her, taking care to keep space between them. That pretty skirt she wore draped across her knees and swayed against her long legs, which were bare. Her feet were, too.
“What can you tell me about Corey’s education?”
He gathered his wandering thoughts. “What do you want to know?”
“Corey said his grandmother was his teacher?”
Nick nodded. “For a little bit. Corey lived with his grandparents the last six months before we moved here. His grandmother pulled him out of school after Christmas break. She homeschooled him. Why?”
“Why wasn’t he with you?” Beth’s eyes widened as if she hadn’t expected to ask that question. “I’m sorry, that’s way too personal.”
He felt his brow furrow. “No. It’s okay. At the time, it seemed like the perfect solution. My wife’s parents were glad to have him and I knew he’d be safe there. I was working a delicate undercover case that I couldn’t walk away from.”
“Undercover?” Beth’s expression froze. She even scooted away from him a little.
There it was. That look of distaste for what he did was written all over Miss Ryken’s face. Any interest she might have had in him died right then, he could tell. Probably a good thing, too.
“I worked as an undercover officer for years in Grand Rapids. I transferred into the sheriff’s department here and start next week as one of their deputies.”
“Oh.”
Evidently, the Ryken women didn’t like the idea of men in law enforcement. “I understand your father was a deputy sheriff, as well.”
Beth stared at her hands. “Yes. Look, Mr. Grey, back to Corey. Can I ask why you allowed him to be pulled out of school?”
Nick leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. He’d been deep in finishing up his case and hadn’t the time to double-check. Maybe he should have made the time. “My mother-in-law thought it might be best for Corey. I trusted her judgment and agreed.”
“Did his grandmother follow a lesson plan, do you know?”
He should have known, but he didn’t. Another failure. “Why? Is there a problem?”
“I’m not sure. Do you read together?”
Nick had plenty of excuses like working nights and leaving education concerns to his wife. He hadn’t read to his boy since Corey started school. So many things he hadn’t done for his own son. But that was changing, starting with this move north.
“No.”
Beth gave him an encouraging smile. “I’ll send him home with some books. Read together and see how it goes.”
He narrowed his gaze. “What are you trying to say?”
“It’s too soon to say anything other than I think your boy struggles with reading.”
“Which means what?”
He watched her shutter her thoughts with a calm face. “We’ll cross that bridge when we know more. After I hear f
rom Corey’s previous school.”
That bridge was looming awfully close considering it was April. He knew for a fact that Corey’s previous school had nothing good to report. It was why Nick had agreed to his in-laws pulling the boy out.
Nick looked into Beth’s eyes expecting to find more disappointment, even censure, but it wasn’t there. She was a blank page with that teacher face going.
At that moment Mary Ryken poked her head out of the sliding glass door to announce that dinner was ready.
“After you, Mr. Grey.” Beth stood and waited for him to do the same.
His appetite was pretty much gone, leveled flat by Beth’s concerns and the half-dozen cookies he’d ingested earlier. He’d make room, though.
As they walked away from the swing, Nick couldn’t get the conversation out of his head. Corey had issues with reading. His boy had enough stress in his life—he didn’t need more. As his father, Nick didn’t want Corey to feel like a failure or be ashamed of his lack of skill with words. His kid was smart. He’d always been good with numbers.
Before they reached the door that would take them back inside, Nick stalled Beth with the touch of his hand to her arm. “Whatever I need to do to help Corey, let me know.”
“Mr. Grey—”
He cut her off. “He can’t be held back.”
Her eyes widened.
Nick softened his tone. “This is important.”
“Of course it is. All my students are important.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
She held up her hand. “I know, Mr. Grey. We’ll do everything we can.”
“Thank you.” But Nick had the sinking feeling that Corey’s second-grade teacher had already written the boy off as a lost cause for this year. That didn’t sit well. Nick had succeeded in getting some really bad guys off the streets, but at what cost?
Walking into the house, Nick was struck by the sound of his son chattering about baseball with Mary Ryken as they set the table.
“My mom’s a die-hard Detroit Tigers fan,” Beth said.
Nick nodded. Corey loved baseball. They used to watch games together on TV. One more thing they hadn’t done in a long time. But all that would change, starting today with bringing his son to the Ryken house. He’d made a good move.