He didn’t respond, but his retreat to the farthest corner of the yard spoke volumes. She figured if he’d told her what he really thought, she might never recover.
Did she have the right to meddle in his life? All she wanted to do was prove that...
“Oh, Princess,” she said softly. “I have to prove that I’m right.”
He deserved to dream. And even if she had to face her fears with Eric, he deserved to graduate. Whatever he did with the rest of his life would be up to him. But she was going to help him figure it out.
Had no one done that with Cole? How different his life could have been if someone had asked him what he wanted most and then helped him get it. She could be that person for Eric.
And Cole... Well, she wasn’t sure where to start with Cole, but she wasn’t giving up. Not yet.
CHAPTER SEVEN
MAKING IT THROUGH a “lesson” with blessed Rebecca Lincoln observing had been torture. While she was watching him, he’d stomped around like a circus bear trained to walk on his hind legs. He’d snapped like that bear, too. Telling her he didn’t have any dreams made him sound like the biggest waste of life there was, and he hadn’t realized his mistake until he noticed her big blue eyes locked on his face.
If he’d ever wanted to paint himself with a target, he’d discovered the most reliable way to do so.
Make a bleeding heart feel sorry for him.
He could have asked her to give him twenty dollars and she’d have emptied her purse out and apologized for not doing it sooner.
Golden curls. Blue eyes. She should smell like cotton candy or bubble gum. Something pink. Touching her had been a huge mistake.
“Rough day?” EW asked calmly as he pulled out of the parking lot. “Door ’bout slammed off its hinges.”
Cole tried counting as the doctor inside Travis had counseled him after his first ill-conceived attempt at arguing with a guard.
“Yeah.” Admitting that was bad enough. He did not want to get into the why. “Busy. Boss’s planning a big event in town weekend after next. Need volunteers. Want to spend a Saturday walking dogs?”
“Could do that.” EW nodded and drove the rest of the way to the trailer park in silence.
Some of the irritation of facing Rebecca again faded. He’d hesitated to throw in EW’s name when they were listing possible volunteers. Were they friends? How far did EW’s charity extend?
Each day, his resolve to shut everyone out was tested by this...whatever it was he had with EW.
Cole was already dependent on him for holding on to the trailer, rescuing him from prison, daily rides home from work and saving his sanity.
The sight of two kids loitering under the basketball goal again reignited Cole’s temper.
“She thinks I ought to do something to help those kids. Help them dream.” The word twisted his mouth and it was satisfying.
EW put the truck in Park in front of Cole’s trailer and waited.
“Can you imagine? Like I’m some kind of mentor or something. A life coach. Those kids are nothing but trouble. I don’t deal with trouble anymore.” Cole grunted and waved a hand at the goal. Neither of the boys was paying them any attention. They had their heads together, talking.
Probably plotting some terrible plan.
“The short, beefy kid, Mike, his parents split up three years ago,” EW said. “Daddy never came home from Afghanistan. Mama never recovered, but she works hard at the hospital. Drives a Honda.” He lifted one finger off the steering wheel. “Black kid, Eric, lives with his older sister. Neither one of them is old enough to be on they own. Usually, they’s a third one, got carroty-orange hair, just showed up. Don’t have his story yet.”
Satisfied with his contribution to the conversation, EW stretched his legs out.
Confusion made it a challenge to figure out EW’s goal with the roll call, so Cole settled on, “I have chocolate chip cookies. Homemade. Want one?” Since he’d been rationing them like precious jewels, eating one a day, offering to share them was evidence of his growing maturity and kindheartedness and complete lack of self-preservation.
But he was only prepared to share a few. Whatever annoyances came with crusader Rebecca, the cookies were good.
EW pursed his lips and then opened the truck door. He raised a hand when the boys turned together to watch them.
Cole ignored them. He was going to continue to ignore them until he forgot about the anger in Rebecca’s face after he told her to focus on kids with a future.
When they were inside, Cole studied the air conditioner. The electricity was on, but he hadn’t taken a chance on the decrepit window unit yet. As long as it might work, he could anticipate the day when he turned it on as a special reward.
EW watched him for a second then held out his hand for the cookies. After he’d picked two, the biggest left in the tin, he said, “Dreams is important, young fella.”
Cole rubbed his sweaty forehead, caught off guard that EW and Rebecca would be on the same side of the issue. Then he couldn’t contain a harsh laugh. “You have got to be kidding me.”
EW slowly shook his head and bit into the cookie. He chewed and said, “Good.”
“How can you believe in dreaming, EW?” Cole opened the refrigerator door to enjoy the tiny splash of cool air. “You’re going to breathe your last breath in this trailer park.” And soon. How old was the guy anyway?
“Could be a dream come true,” EW said. “Time was I thought I’d have no home at all. Held on to it, though. Wasn’t easy.” He chewed his cookie slowly.
Cole didn’t want to ask questions. This was none of his business.
“Why are you still here, EW? You had a business.” A life. A hope for more than this trailer park.
“Yeah, well...” EW shook his head. “Lost a wife. Things got real difficult after that. Didn’t cope the best way, either. Took me a while to figure it all out again.”
“That’s what I mean.” Cole pointed. “That difficult part. Once you’ve been there, how do you think dreams are possible?”
EW put the last bite of cookie in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully, savoring every bite as he brushed off his hands. “Not worth living without it, kid. Could be it’s dreaming of a fried fish dinner and a cold beer, but that makes every hot day easier to get through. Sometimes a cookie shows up you didn’t expect.”
“Seems like it would be better to tell those kids to toughen up. Aim lower. Get jobs now and keep them so that they can run the AC now and then.” That was what Cole should have done. If he’d gone out and gotten a job at eighteen, he could have helped Mimi with expenses. All he’d seen then was easy, fast money. He’d been too impatient to consider real answers. None of the consequences had factored in, because he’d never imagined they’d apply to him.
He knew better. Showing those kids what a ruined life looked like would be a better gift than encouraging them to dream, no matter what EW thought.
“Could be.” EW tugged his earlobe. “When people ask for help, you’ve got two options. Give it or don’t.” When he looked at Cole, he didn’t have to add how many times he’d decided to give it.
Every time Cole had asked, EW had helped. Why? Because he could.
Rebecca had asked for his help. Could he give it? Not in the way she’d intended.
He had all the tools he needed to help those kids prepare for real life in five minutes or less. Right that second, he could try scaring them straight and then forget about Rebecca and her ridiculous convictions.
“Fine.” He braced one hand on the door and shoved it open.
“Take the cookies.” EW motioned with his chin at the dwindling stack. “Might help ’em listen. Can’t hurt.”
Unable to argue with the man who’d saved him from Travis, Cole stomped over and grabbed the tin. He quickly mo
ved the smallest ones to the top of the pile. As soon as he stepped down on the packed dirt of the road, the boys huddled under the goal turned to face him. Smart. Keeping an eye on the guy higher on the food chain might not save them, but at least they’d stand a fighting chance.
The beat-up car belonging to the third kid EW hadn’t been able to name turned into the trailer park as Cole reached the road. Instead of passing him, the kid driving made a U-turn and headed for the highway.
He and EW exchanged a glance. Good. EW’s watching, too. Whatever that kid was up to, he didn’t want an audience.
Instead of asking questions when he reached the boys under the basketball goal, Cole held out the cookies. “Here. Have a cookie.” EW’s grunt convinced him he might need to work on his approach. “I’m your new neighbor.” He motioned with his chin toward the trailer.
“You never heard of stranger danger?” the biggest kid, Eric, asked. His mouth was a tight line, but if Cole had to guess, he was weighing his shot at outrunning Cole, not attacking.
“Now, Eric, it’s a homemade cookie.” EW’s slow drawl caught the kid’s attention. “Mebbe you can take a chance on it.”
“From a convict?” The other kid had a nervous tic, a tapping hand that kept an erratic beat against the side of his leg. “No way.” He darted two steps back.
“More for me.” Eric took the cookies. Before he had a chance to take a bite, the kid snatched one out of his hand. Would they fight or laugh it off?
The whole short exchange reminded Cole of his old group. Ricky Martinez had been the meanest of the gang, but he’d preferred to hang back, watching and waiting for a weakness. Most of the time, they’d been tight, friends because they didn’t have anyone else. Once or twice, he’d been pretty sure it was kill or be killed with Ricky, though. They’d had an epic fistfight right under this goal. With friends like that, he’d learned early on to watch his own back.
“You can go now.” Eric took a bite of the cookie and waved his hand. “We’ve got business.”
The heat of anger at the kid’s dismissal shouldn’t have surprised him. This was going as expected. There was no helping these kids. They already had their own, terrible plans. If he asked what they dreamed about, he’d be jumped in half a second. The law of the jungle didn’t leave any opening for sentimental speech.
EW didn’t move. Instead, he held up both hands. “Hit me.”
Cole turned to see Eric and Mike exchange confused frowns.
“Throw me the ball,” EW said slowly. Eric shook his head as he bent to snatch the basketball. He gave it three hard bounces and then tossed it to the old man.
“One game. Ten baskets. We win, you spend some time volunteering at the animal shelter. You win, you can have the rest of the cookies.” EW twirled the ball and watched Eric.
Cole knew his confused face matched Eric’s. EW had to be eighty years old. While he was locked up, Cole had spent a lot of time scrabbling on a half court, so he could take on Eric and Mike by himself, but all three of them would be bruised and bleeding when it was over.
But now they were in it. He’d play to win, even if he had to go dirty.
Cole barely managed to snatch the ball out of midair before it bounced hard on his nose. EW closed his eyes as if he couldn’t believe Cole’s reflexes.
Mike snorted. “How about we take what we want? You need to go rest somewhere, old man.”
EW pursed his lips.
Eric held up both hands. “I need community-service hours to make a judge happy. This shelter job count?”
Cole dribbled the ball as he considered that. “Don’t see why not.”
“Got nothing to lose, then.” Eric bent low, both arms out to guard the basket. “Let’s see what you got.”
The cockiness of youth didn’t surprise Cole. Man to man, he and Eric were about the same size. What Eric didn’t know was that Cole had been honing his one-on-one skills for years. Before Mike made up his mind whether he was in or out, Cole dodged past Eric and dropped the ball in the goal. “One basket down.”
EW’s wheezy laughter caught them all by surprise. “Gonna be easier than I thought. Never expected Cole to move so fast.”
“We split everything down the middle,” Eric said as he pointed at Mike. “Win or lose.” Mike nodded, they moved out to half court and for fifteen minutes, all Cole could focus on was keeping Eric away from the basket. After Mike and Eric scored three quick goals, he started to worry. Play got rougher, and the noise level doubled.
“Pretty good trash talk for a kid,” Cole said with a grunt as he wiped blood off his lip. He was almost certain Eric’s wild elbow had been an accident. “Making your teachers proud.”
At least the kid was panting hard as he braced his hands on his knees. “Yeah. Top of my class in insults.”
While he, Eric and Mike battled basket for basket, EW moved slowly along the perimeter. The guy might have made a basket, but Cole was afraid he’d knock him over with a pass.
“Last point,” Cole said with a gasp. He had to make one more basket. Then he could go inside, take a shower to wash off the sweat, dirt and blood. It had been a long, long time since he’d felt this good.
Eric and Mike immediately rushed him, and he tossed the ball to EW. All three of them stumbled to a stop as EW launched the prettiest shot, the ball rising and falling in a high arc to drain the goal.
“Nothing but net.” EW bent to pick up the tin he’d placed carefully outside the court area. “See you Saturday.” He was whistling as he meandered slowly toward Cole’s trailer.
“Guy’s a ringer,” Mike muttered.
Cole would have laughed, but he needed every bit of precious air. “Just smarter than the rest of us.” When he could stand, Cole held out his hand. “Good game.”
Mike shook it quickly and then collapsed in a heap against the goal.
“Rematch.” Eric straightened with a groan. “Now that we know what he can do, we need a rematch.”
Cole offered him his hand. “Sure thing.” When Eric shook his hand, he added, “Come by the shelter before Saturday. I know they can help with your community-service hours.”
Eric dropped down beside Mike. “Maybe.”
Cole decided that was the best he could hope for and limped toward his trailer. About halfway there, the nagging voice kicked in so he spun around. “But only if you’re in school, Eric.” He nodded. “We can help, but only if you’re in school.” Without waiting to see how that landed, Cole finished the unbelievably long trek to his place, winced as he climbed the stairs and ignored the smug expression on EW’s face.
With two punches of buttons, stale but cold air trickled into the living room. Cole dropped down on the ragged carpet and closed his eyes. “You almost got me killed.”
When the silence could no longer be ignored, he cracked one eyelid. EW was propped against the counter, a cookie in his hand. “What if we’d lost?” Cole asked.
“No way they could beat me.” EW brushed off one shoulder.
Cole thought about arguing that he’d scored nine out of the ten times, but it didn’t matter. “How’d you know?”
“I’m that good.” EW brushed off his hands. “And so are you.”
“You’ve never seen me play basketball,” Cole said as he toed off his shoes. If basketball was going to be a regular thing, and it would be because all the worries of the day had disappeared, he needed better, cooler clothes.
“Yeah, I’m not talking about ball.” EW’s wheezy laugh surprised Cole again, but it was nice to hear. “Two choices, young fella. You either help or you don’t.”
Cole tried a disgusted sigh. Being outflanked was something he’d better get used to.
“Thing I learned about saying no when someone asks for it is you gotta live with that for the rest of your life. You and I both know it ain’
t easy to ask for some kind of help.” EW waited for Cole to acknowledge that, and it was impossible to pretend he didn’t know what the old man was talking about. Every bit of help he’d gotten since he’d come home had been necessary but still pinched whatever pride he had left.
“I said no a lot back in the day.” EW rubbed a hand over his white hair. “Too busy to be bothered. And I’m sorry for it.” This time, EW stared hard at the photo over Mimi’s sink, the one of her and Cole together at the fair. Was he wondering what might have happened if he’d stepped in to try to change Cole’s path? “Regret can kill a man or at least whatever he does to try to escape it. If he’s lucky, he gets a chance to make it right. If he’s not, his only choice is to swallow it, even if it eats him from inside.”
The tense silence in the trailer was broken only by the wheezing window unit until EW tugged his earlobe and straightened.
“Now that you know how it feels when you do help, won’t be so hard the next time,” EW said and then made his escape.
EW was right. He’d made the effort. Sort of. And it had been as easy as a brawling basketball game that he’d repeat every day if the kid would give him a chance. That was how much better he felt.
The anger and irritation had evaporated, leaving something else behind. Cole stared up at the ceiling as he tried to find the right name. Peace maybe? It probably wouldn’t last, but maybe he could do it again.
If the kid showed to help out at the shelter, Cole would lay out all the grim truths about being behind bars. The danger had been less about violence than he’d expected, but being contained twenty-four hours a day was never going to be anything other than a punishment.
He already lived with enough regret. Drinking away his days to forget one more was no way to live a life. Not for him or EW. So he’d try to warn Eric, and if he had a chance, he’d make sure EW understood how grateful Cole was that he’d saved his life this time around.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Keeping Cole's Promise Page 8