Here in My Heart: A Novella (Echoes of the Heart)

by DeStefano, Anna

  “She hated the testing,” Marsha said. “The therapist couldn’t get her to sit still long enough to complete several of the evaluations. Lisa was still upset when we left. But she wanted to see you and to graduate with the other kids. You’ve made her feel like part of the group here.”

  “She is part of the group.”

  With Sally’s help each week as the students got busy and distracted and overly wired during two hours of class, Dru had made sure Lisa fit in.

  “Lisa will graduate tonight.” Dru would make sure of it. “Simon’s with Brad now. Let me talk with her. We’ll fix this. Piece of cake.”

  Brad had said the same thing earlier.

  Dru’s insides jumbled. More unwanted memories of them became all she could see.

  Dru hadn’t been much older than Lisa, and Brad and Oliver had made it their mission in life to tease her about always saying piece of cake when she’d wanted to do something they’d thought she couldn’t. She’d tagged along anyway: fort building, dirt bike racing, watching their horror movies, and learning to play their sports. And there’d been the time Oliver had stolen Joe’s car and taken them on a joyride, wrapping the thing around a light pole. Brad had landed in the emergency room, Oliver in the Chandlerville jail overnight, and Dru had been left the lovely task of explaining things to Marsha and Joe.

  They’d grounded her for a month. She’d done the chores of every other kid in the house, plus her own. But her foster parents had been more worried than angry about Oliver. He’d been hurting in ways no one but his girlfriend, Selena, had seemed able to ease. He’d started drinking too much and doing crazy things to outrun how alone he’d felt. And he’d had a built-in drinking buddy to enable him—his best friend, Brad.

  Just after Oliver’s eighteenth birthday, he’d left Chandlerville for good. Not a full week later, Brad had been gone, too.

  Dru never wanted Lisa to think that things were so bad that leaving town was her only option.

  “Piece of cake,” she repeated to Marsha.

  Of course, to pull off what Dru had in mind, she’d need Brad’s help—after she’d tried to bounce him out of the Y an hour ago, on top of pretending he didn’t exist for the last seven years.

  Perfect.

  The other kids were staring. Lisa could feel it. She hated that. Just like she’d hated that doctor staring at her, asking stupid questions and then talking to Mr. and Mrs. Dixon about her. And now Dru was talking about her to Mrs. Dixon.

  She really hated it when people did that. Teachers. Other kids and parents. They were always saying and thinking things about her: how she couldn’t stop messing up, how something had to be done about her. Like there was any way to fix her.

  She’s never going to live up to her potential, her first-grade teacher had told Mr. and Mrs. Sanchez at a parent-teacher conference. The Sanchezes had laid into Lisa that night, saying they couldn’t spend all their time dealing with her getting into trouble.

  The other six foster kids they kept had known the score. No problems with the school or in the neighborhood. That had been the rule in the Sanchez house—a run-down place miles away from Chandlerville. The Sanchezes didn’t have jobs. They fostered for the money. After they cashed their county checks, they were pretty much done being parents. The kids were supposed to stay out of the way, do their chores, and mostly take care of themselves.

  Lisa had been history after that parent-teacher conference, moved from the Sanchezes’ to another home and more parents with more rules. After that place somewhere in Douglasville, she’d been dumped with the Dixons.

  And now Mrs. Dixon and Dru were looking at Lisa like she’d never be right. It made her feel sick, just like fighting with Simon had. Even more than missing the Dixons’ pretty, clean house and the sort-of okay kids there, Lisa would miss Dru the most when Family Services took her away again.

  Dru was walking across the gym toward her. Lisa just knew Dru would tell her to leave before the radKIDS graduation party. Lisa tried to run but couldn’t. Mr. Dixon had his hands on her shoulders. He winked at her again when she looked up to see if he saw Dru, too.

  “It’s going to be okay,” he said. He was always saying that. And when he wasn’t, Mrs. Dixon was. “You’ll see.”

  Dru smiled when she reached them. Not her normal smile. Her eyes weren’t squinty the way they got when she laughed and smiled for real. They hadn’t been squinty the whole class, no matter how much she’d said she was happy everyone was there. She looked even worse after what Lisa had done. Like she thought something bad was going to happen but didn’t want anyone else to know she was scared. It was how Lisa felt most of the time.

  Dru knelt in front of her. “Feeling better?”

  Lisa nodded. She wanted to be better for her friend—her older sister, the Dixons had said.

  “Better enough to practice with Officer Douglas?” Dru asked. “Simon’s almost done, and I think you’re the perfect student for us to wrap things up with.”

  “No . . .” Lisa shrank against her foster father. She’d never be the perfect anything. Other kids like Sally Beaumont were perfect. Not Lisa.

  “But you’re our most improved radKID,” Dru said.

  “I . . . I am?”

  That sounded like something even Lisa couldn’t mess up.

  Mr. Dixon squeezed her shoulder. “Ready?”

  Lisa shook her head. She wouldn’t do it right. She never had, when they’d practiced.

  Paying attention long enough was too hard. And there were tons more people in the gym now. No way would she remember to do all the things radKIDS were supposed to do if someone were bullying them at school or around the neighborhood, or if a stranger tried to grab them or hurt them.

  “I don’t want to.” She’d end up being the worst improved, and everyone would see.

  Mr. Dixon got down on one knee. “I think you do, Lisa. I think it scares you how much you want to show everyone what you’ve learned.”

  She did. She wanted to so much. She wanted everyone to see how hard she was trying. She wanted the Dixons and Dru and the other kids to see she could do something right.

  “And what have we learned about being afraid?” Dru asked. “I know you, Lisa. You’re super smart. You had all the handouts I’ve given out memorized the first night you took them home. Mr. and Mrs. Dixon tell me you’re one of the brightest kids they’ve ever fostered. Your teachers at Chandler Elementary think so. Most of the kids do, too, and that’s probably part of why they give you such a hard time sometimes when you make mistakes. You understand everything, but understanding isn’t always enough, is it? And that’s scary. But what do radKIDS do when they’re scared?”

  “We . . .” Lisa could feel people looking at her again. They weren’t talking as much. She realized it was because Simon had stopped working with Officer Douglas. She would be the last kid to pretend to defend herself against the police officer covered all over in big red pads. “We tell whoever’s making us afraid ‘No.’”

  “That’s right.” Dru smiled for real, her eyes all squinty and happy. “And if the person keeps doing what’s making you afraid? What do you do next?”

  “I say it louder. ‘No!’”

  “Good girl.”

  Dru looked around them. Parents were nodding and smiling, Mrs. Dixon especially. The other kids weren’t laughing, and Lisa had yelled really loud.

  “So,” Dru said, “can you show us all how to face your fear and fight back? Because a radKID is never powerless. A radKID knows how to fight until they can run away and get the help they need to be safe again, right? You’d be doing me a big favor, making sure everyone sees just how important all of this is. We need a big finale. Help me kick things up a notch for our last demonstration.”

  Lisa could see Officer Douglas listening, too. Even Simon was staring at her and Dru while he took off his pads.

  “What do I have to do?”

  “If Officer Douglas is up for it”—Dru lo
oked over her shoulder—“I want to try something we were taught in our training, but I haven’t done it with one of my classes yet. I haven’t had the right student before. They told us we had to be sure we had someone who wouldn’t give up when they were afraid, didn’t they, Officer Douglas?” Dru took Lisa’s hand and turned toward the rest of the room, leading Lisa through the crowd toward the police officer. “Brad, I’d like you to meet Lisa Burns. I’m hoping she’ll help us out with a more realistic demonstration.”

  “Hello, Lisa,” the tall man said.

  His voice was deep, but he didn’t sound mean. His eyes were pretty and blue, even prettier than Dru’s. And his smile was so real. Lisa smiled back.

  He looked at Dru for a long time, almost as if he were saying something to her without any words, and then he smiled some more at Lisa.

  “You ready to show your stuff?” he asked.

  Chapter Three

  Dru held her breath, silently thanking Brad for playing along. She was counting on him to be careful with Lisa. And the last time she’d trusted him, he’d broken her heart and been the reason Oliver had left Chandlerville and her foster family forever.

  Dru smiled down at Lisa, knowing the little girl was worried she’d do something wrong while everybody watched. Brad reached out a hand covered in padding.

  “Let’s give everyone a show,” he said.

  Lisa let him lead her to Sally, who got Lisa into her own padding. A low murmur spread through the waiting crowd. When Lisa was set, Sally joined Dru at the edge of the demonstration area. Brad looked over at Dru. Understanding connected them, feeling so familiar she was suddenly more nervous and unsettled than Lisa.

  “Ready?” Brad asked Lisa.

  Before she could answer, he went to work.

  He gave Lisa no time to think. He didn’t approach her cautiously, murmuring encouragement, as he had the other kids. He didn’t wait for her to get balanced, one foot in front of the other, hands up to protect herself, the way Dru and Sally had taught the kids to prepare.

  Brad towered over the much smaller girl, asking in a creepy, gravelly voice if he could take her picture.

  Lisa timidly said, “No,” but she held her ground. Her audience murmured as Brad took a step closer, saying louder, meaner, that he wanted Lisa to look at a cool new game on his phone.

  “No!” Lisa shouted this time.

  She assumed her radKIDS stance, her body balanced and braced, her right arm back and ready to strike, her left pointing, palm out, at Brad, defining her personal space.

  “I said no!” she repeated.

  That was when Brad grabbed her. And Lisa, just as Dru had known she could, became a master at demonstrating every kick and punch and move in the radKIDS book. Brad pulled her to his chest. Still facing him, she kept fighting and finally managed to force space between them. She turned away. Before she could run, he grabbed her from behind and pulled her back. An elbow punch and groin kick from Lisa’s heel earned her another chance at freedom. All while she shouted “No!” loud enough to cause YMCA members not attending the class to poke their heads into the gymnasium to check whether things were okay.

  Freed from Brad’s realistic demonstration of just how quickly an adult could overpower a kid, Lisa ran into Dru’s arms, still shouting, earning herself a hug, a high-five from Sally, and when Lisa turned back toward Brad, a rush of kids and parents cheering and clapping, telling her how great she’d been.

  The parents looked rattled still, stunned by the endless moments that had passed before a seemingly defenseless girl had turned into a fighting frenzy who hadn’t given up until she was free. But now they knew their kids could protect themselves, if they kept practicing their skills. Thanks to Lisa and Brad, tonight’s graduation exhibition had ended on a very real, very powerful high.

  “That was so cool!” Simon said, while Dru helped Lisa out of her pads. “You totally kicked his butt.”

  “I wasn’t scared at all,” Lisa boasted, her and Simon’s fight forgotten. She shrugged when Dru laughed at her fib. “Okay, I was a little scared at first, but you were right, Dru. I can get myself free, even when I’m scared.” She looked around at the other students. “We can fight back. We have to, no matter what happens, until we get away.”

  The entire gym cheered and clapped, parents and kids, Dru the loudest. Lisa beamed. Sally rushed over from where she’d been helping Brad out of his gear.

  “My mom’s here with the pizza and cake!” she said to Dru. “Should I start everyone eating?”

  “Oh . . .” Dru’s attention was riveted to the other side of the gym, where Brad’s ridiculously fit, sweaty body was emerging from his sparring getup. She pressed a hand to her heart. “Sure . . . Lisa, would you help Sally? There are cookies from the Dream Whip in the box on the table, and plates and napkins and cups. You two are in charge of refreshments. I’ll . . . I’ll grab ice from the Y staff. They’re donating cans of soda, too. They should be around here somewhere.”

  Dru fled.

  It was either that or walking over to Brad and hugging him for the awesome thing he’d just done. The dangerous urge scrambled after her, until she wanted to scream. She left the gym and the parents and kids behind. Many of them were already heading over to Brad, congratulating and thanking him, getting to know him, admiring all the admirable things about him that Dru hadn’t let herself get close enough to see for years.

  Since he’d left her in the hallway earlier, he’d been exactly what she and her students had needed him to be. Together, she and Brad had boosted not just Lisa’s confidence in what she’d learned, but that of every other radKID in the room. And a weak part of Dru knew this moment was exactly why she’d dreaded calling him home. Liking having him back wasn’t a luxury she could afford.

  She didn’t blame her friends and neighbors for falling for Brad, after getting the chance to finally know him. But she’d learned the hard way just how much falling for him could cost. And later tonight, Vi was counting on them to be a united front.

  The next month or so is going to be tough . . .

  Dru headed to the front desk.

  “I need some ice for the radKIDS,” she said to the teenager checking members in and handing out equipment. “And I’m looking for the drinks Chris said we could have for the graduation ceremony.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The young man beamed. “Everyone here thinks it’s so cool, what you’re doing for the kids in the community.”

  It was cool. Her job as a radKIDS instructor was one of the coolest things she did. She’d been looking forward to graduation for weeks. Now instead of celebrating with her students, she was making an ice run in a lame attempt to not think about Brad.

  Except their past was suddenly all her mind would focus on.

  He hadn’t merely rejected her when she’d kissed him. That same night, he’d gotten drunk and slept with Selena. When Oliver found out, he’d beaten the hell out of Brad and blown his sobriety one time too many. He’d wrecked Joe’s car again, gotten himself arrested again. That had been the final straw for Joe and Marsha. They’d had no choice but to ask him to leave their home. He’d already aged out of foster care and had nowhere else in town to go.

  Because of events Brad had set into motion, Dru hadn’t seen her foster brother since.

  That was the Brad she’d just left in the gym, chatting with an adoring crowd. Those were the memories she’d have to fight being sucked into tonight, when they talked with Vivian’s lawyer.

  Dru’s radKIDS had been great, especially Lisa.

  The girl was fearless when the pressure was on, a lot like another kid he’d known who’d never backed down from a challenge.

  Dru’s entire class had been eager and well-trained and absolutely in love with their leader. It was clear why. She was a natural with them, bringing her unique brand of fun and energy to the graduation program. The parents and students he’d met tonight had lit up the YMCA gymnasium with their enthusiasm. He’d
worked with his own classes in Savannah, and he’d been proud of each group. But getting the stuffing pummeled out of him by a pack of thirteen-and-unders had never felt so good. He’d been grateful to be part of it.

  Right up until Dru had turned her back and left, supposedly in search of ice, and had made herself so scarce once the feeding frenzy at the snack table commenced, a half dozen parents had asked where she’d gone.

  Now the last crust of pizza had been carnivored, sugary soda had been guzzled, cake frosting and cookie crumbs were everywhere, the last of the parents had thanked him with a smile or a handshake or a pat on the shoulder and headed out, and he was packing up his pads in the empty gymnasium. Maybe not packing so much as stalling. He needed to be at Vivian’s house soon.

  He wasn’t ready to face her lawyer and her plans for dying.

  He looked around at the gym he’d played ball in his entire childhood, gone to day camp in, raised hell in just like the older of the boys who’d come today . . . The childhood that seemed so far away most days was suddenly everywhere. And the grandmother who’d been there for him every hell-on-wheels day of his youth was almost gone.

  She doesn’t have long, Dru had said when she’d called at dawn. For just a second when he’d seen her name on his cell phone display, he’d let himself believe she was reaching out to make peace. Vivian wants you home as quickly as you can get here.

  And at some point in their five-minute phone conversation, he’d let himself get talked into meeting with Horace Baxter first and dealing with the business end of losing his grandmother before he visited Vi at the Harmony Grove Hospice Center. Because that was the way Vivian wanted it.

  The opinionated, obstinate force of nature who’d raised him had hidden the truth about how ill she’d become until there were only months, possibly just weeks, left. And she was still calling the shots. Brad checked his watch and winced.

  The door from the lobby swung open while he was zipping up his duffel. In walked the second most befuddling female relationship of his life. Dru headed toward him.