The Dad Next Door

by Stephanie Dees

  “Folks, listen. If you don’t think our community needs to be a place where we help kids who don’t have any place to turn, then so be it. But don’t let fear and misinformation guide your decision. Get to know Claire. Talk to her about her plans. Mr. Mayor, I move that we table this discussion for a couple of months.”

  A guy in the front row whom she didn’t recognize said, “Second.”

  The mayor stood next to Claire. “All in favor?”

  The majority of hands in the room rose.

  “Opposed?”

  Roy and a few others raised their hands.

  “The motion carries. We’ll meet back in two months at the regularly scheduled council meeting to have a vote. And, Ms. Conley, I’d like to set up a question-and-answer time after church one Sunday, so folks can be better informed before they vote.”

  She nodded, thoughts spinning in her head. She caught the expression on Roy Willis’s face before he turned to a group of people waiting to talk to him. Roy was angry. White-faced angry.

  A young woman, one who’d been sitting next to the food-on-her-shirt mom, hesitantly approached. “I’m Jamie. I just have a question, if you have time.”

  Claire shook her hand. “Yeah, sure. I hope I have the answer.”

  “I have a four-year-old little boy.” She held out her phone and showed Claire a picture of a towheaded little guy holding a rabbit, not looking at the camera. “He’s just been diagnosed with autism. I take him over to Mobile for therapy as often as I can, but I was just wondering about the horses. He loves animals. Would the horse therapy be available to people in the community?”

  “Yes, definitely! Especially for little guys who can come during the day when ours will mostly be in school. He’s adorable.”

  “Yeah, he is.” Jamie looked down at her feet. “I guess it’s pretty expensive.”

  “Actually, my sister, Jordan, and I haven’t talked about it specifically, but I think we would provide services on a sliding scale, based on your ability to pay.”

  “Really? Oh, thank you.” She turned to wave at someone in the back who called her name. “I have to go, but thank you so much. Please come to church on Sunday.”

  “Thank you, I appreciate that so much. I’d love to.”

  Joe appeared at her side with a pretty blonde woman about their age. “Hey, Claire, this is Ellen. We sat next to each other in Algebra class. Actually, I’m pretty sure Ellen cheated off my paper.”

  “Stop! You know that’s not true. I made way better grades than you.” She looked at Claire and rolled her eyes. “He told his mom that last week!”

  “So, Ellen wondered if you might have some ideas or encouragement about her son.”

  Claire smiled at Ellen, who looked suddenly nervous. “I’m happy to help if I can.”

  “I just wondered if maybe riding horses might help my son’s confidence.” She looked around the room and lowered her voice. “There’s this big kid in gym class that picks on Wyatt. And Wyatt’s not weird or anything, he’s just kind of small for his age.”

  “Riding horses and learning to have control over such a large animal does help a lot of kids with confidence.”

  “Did that kid hurt Wyatt?” Joe interjected.

  Ellen looked miserable. “He came home with a black eye on Tuesday. Y’all have to know it’s hard for me to ask for help.”

  “You could have him arrested for assault, but it might not help.” Joe crossed his big muscular arms. His mean mug was impressive. The fact that he was angry on behalf of a bullied boy made Claire’s heart melt just a little more.

  “I talked to the principal and to the other parents in the class a few weeks ago and it just made things worse for Wyatt.” Ellen’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m a single mom. I’ve never faced anything like this before.”

  Claire put her hand on Ellen’s arm. “Bring him out tomorrow. I usually take a break from the reconstruction around four o’clock anyway. I’ll introduce him to Freckles. The other horses won’t be here for a while, but Freckles is a real gentleman.”

  “Are you sure?” Ellen’s hand, over her mouth, was shaking. “I can pay you for lessons.”

  “We can talk about that tomorrow.” Claire met Joe’s eyes and he nodded almost imperceptibly.

  Ellen pulled the strap of her purse back onto her shoulder and looked toward the door. “My dad is waiting. I need to go. Oh, I can’t thank you enough. I’ll see you tomorrow, Claire. Thank you so much.”

  “Thanks. She was always kind to me. It means a lot that you would try to help.” When Joe nudged her shoulder, Claire looked up into his eyes. Her breath caught in her throat. He was gorgeous, yes, but those clear blue eyes revealed a strong, generous spirit.

  “It makes my blood boil to think a bully is beating up her son.” And honestly, it made her feel a sense of solidarity with the kid, since she was here tonight only because Roy Willis was a bully throwing his weight around.

  She wasn’t going to give in without a fight, either.

  * * *

  From the newly washed and now sparkling clean window of the cabin, Joe watched Claire with Wyatt in the corral. He could almost see her patience as she led the middle schooler in a walk and then coached him into a trot.

  Ellen stood at the rail, her face full of hope that her small-for-thirteen-year-old son would find some confidence. And that, Joe knew well, Wyatt would have to do for himself. No mom or mentor alone could instill it in him. But what they could do was give him a different lens to look at himself.

  He tossed the dust-coated rag into the trash bin and started around the pond toward them. Maybe clarity was what Claire was giving him and Amelia, by giving them a different lens with which to see each other and themselves.

  It was working, in some ways. Amelia was starting to not only think of herself as the victim of an absent father and he was starting to forgive himself for not knowing she existed. They both had a long way to go, but they were making progress.

  Ellen smiled a greeting as Joe walked up, but her chin trembled. “He’s doing great, isn’t he?”

  Joe nodded. “Yeah, he is.”

  “He needs to learn some other skills, too.”

  “Like what?” He watched Claire coach Wyatt as he took Freckles on a slow solo spin around the corral.

  “Well, his dad left when he was a toddler, and while he adores my dad, Pop-Pop just isn’t going to teach him how to land a solid punch.”

  Joe laughed. “I’ll be happy to hang out with him, but I’m not going to tell him to hit another kid. I could teach him some self-defense techniques, though.” His eyes were on Claire, and though she didn’t visibly react or look at him, a smile curved her lips.

  “There you go, Wyatt. You show that big horse who’s boss. And it’s not him.” When the boy used his heels to get Freckles away from a small, tasty patch of grass, she clapped. “That’s the way! All right, take him over to the water trough and let’s let him have a drink. You did great for your first lesson!”

  Wyatt slid off the big gelding to the ground. He wasn’t smiling, but he squared his shoulders and carefully gave Freckles’s hindquarters a pat as he walked behind.

  Claire released Freckles into the pasture and turned back to them, an easy smile on her face. “Ellen, I’m ready for a cup of coffee and a snack. How about you?”

  “Oh, I don’t know...” Ellen looked worriedly at her son.

  Sliding her arm through Ellen’s, Claire half dragged her toward the house. “I have so much food from everyone bringing goodies. I need help.”

  Ellen’s Southern manners kicked in and she looked helplessly at Joe as Claire led her across the backyard.

  After watching them walk away, Wyatt squared his shoulders and turned to face Joe. He was skinny, his reddish-brown hair a silky mop on his head. Scattered fr
eckles completed the picture.

  “What are you doing with my mom?”

  “Your mom and I are friends.”

  “Are you gonna kiss her?” At his side, Wyatt’s hands curled into fists.

  “What? No, I’m not going to—Dude, your mom and I were friends in high school. She sat next to me in Algebra. I copied off her page because she was smarter than me.”

  Wyatt’s expression was shocked. “You’re not supposed to cheat.”

  Joe smothered a laugh. He had to give it to the kid. Regardless of what his mom thought, he had some guts. “I know. I don’t cheat now, but I didn’t have a mom like yours to teach me stuff like that back then.”

  When Wyatt nodded at his mom’s general awesomeness, Joe asked, “How’d you get that black eye?”

  Immediately, Wyatt’s mouth slammed into an obstinate line. Joe sighed. “Look, I told you about cheating off your mom in Algebra. I wasn’t the brightest bulb, but I know about bullies. Want to tell me about it?”

  “It started at the beginning of the year. These guys would make fun of some of us for being scrawny or, um, you know, not filling out our jockey shorts and stuff.” Wyatt grabbed a water bottle from the top of a fence post and took a swig. “They didn’t touch us or nothing until the other day. This one kid named Sheridan pushed this kid named Carlton, who has Down syndrome. He was just being mean, but it really ticked me off because Carlton started to cry.”

  “I can see why. I would’ve been mad, too.”

  “I told him to go away, but about the time I stood in front of Carlton, that kid Sheridan punched me in the face. I didn’t cry or nothing, but I was kind of out of it for a while.”

  The desire to give that kid Sheridan what he deserved was almost overwhelming. Probably not the kindest feeling Joe had ever had. “I know a couple things that might help you keep that from happening again. Want me to show you?”

  “Uh, yeah.” Wyatt followed Joe onto the grass. He showed Wyatt some defensive moves to keep the bigger kid from beating him up and a few things he could do offensively to get a bully to back down. Ellen’s boy might be skinny, but he was wiry, and with a little help, it wouldn’t be a completely one-sided fight the next time.

  “So here’s the last tip for today—speak with authority.” He got in the kid’s face. “Now, tell me to back off.”

  “Back off.” Wyatt’s voice cracked in the middle.

  Joe tapped him in the diaphragm. “From here. Back. Off.”

  “Whoa, okay.” Wyatt squared his shoulders and narrowed his eyes. “Back. Off. Sheridan.” He sneered the last word.

  Joe grinned. “Now, that sounds like you’ve got what it takes to back that up. Good job.” A horn honked from the driveway, Wyatt’s mom.

  He made a face. “I’ve got youth group tonight. I guess I’ve gotta go.”

  With a fist bump, Joe told Wyatt he’d see him around.

  As her son jumped in the car and buckled in, Ellen waved at him and mouthed, “Thank you.”

  He waved, and as Ellen pulled onto the highway, Claire appeared at his side with a cup of coffee. “Nice thing you did there, Sheehan.”

  “Yeah? Not so shabby yourself, Conley.” He sipped the coffee and thought, surprisingly, that the crisis response team’s highest adrenaline-producing moments couldn’t compare to this one. Being with Wyatt and helping him gain some confidence and sharing the moment with Claire was the best.

  He hadn’t felt a moment like this in a long time. Questions milled in his mind, questions like was he really making the right choice to try to go back to his old job? The thought of leaving gave him a rocky feeling in the pit of his stomach.

  He shook his head and pushed the thoughts deliberately away. Being a cop was who he was. He might be a dad and a son and a friend, but underneath it all, he was a cop.

  Life in Red Hill Springs was appealing, more and more so, actually, but his real life was calling. And he was going back to it.

  Chapter Seven

  Claire waited outside the school for Amelia and, as she watched kids greeting their moms and dads, wondered if Amelia missed her mom. She thought about her own mom constantly, picked up the phone to call her at random times through the day before she remembered that her mother wasn’t at the other end of a phone call anymore. Cancer had taken her so fast and left such a gaping hole in Claire’s life.

  Her mom would love that she was using her inheritance from her father to build something lasting, and something more than just wood and glass and appliances. Her mother believed in people. She would be proud that Claire did, too.

  Amelia opened the door and climbed into the front passenger seat, dumping her backpack to the floor with a thud. “Hey.”

  “You got the message about me picking you up, I take it.” Claire started the car and gingerly pulled out into the after-school traffic.

  Joe’s daughter clicked her seat belt into place. “Yeah, Joe’s at his doctor’s appointment. Where’s Gram?”

  “She had an emergency come up at the café. Something about a dishwasher or refrigerator or something. Either she or your dad will pick you up at the farm later on.”

  “Cool. Can I see the kittens?”

  “Of course. I have snack food, too.”

  “I figured. Joe told Gram that your kitchen is like a convenience store.”

  Claire snorted a laugh. “Sounds about right. I’m painting the bedrooms, if you want to help.”

  “I’d rather play with the animals. Are you still sleeping in the dining room?”

  “Yep. Until I get the bedrooms finished.”

  Amelia unzipped her backpack and dug around, coming out with a little ball with feathers attached to it. “I got this for the kittens.”

  “They’re going to go crazy for it.” As Claire turned into the long driveway at the farm, she rolled the windows down. It smelled like grass and dirt and fresh air here. A haze hung in the sky from the dust of crops being harvested. She loved it.

  Amelia took off like a streak for the barn as soon as Claire stopped the car.

  “Hey, girl, your backpack?” Figuring it was a lost cause, Claire picked it up and about fell over at the weight. She yelled toward the barn. “I’m going inside to paint for another hour or so. Check in with me every half hour, please.”

  Amelia stuck her head out the door, a kitten already tucked up under her chin. “Okay, I will.”

  “Cokes in the cooler, snacks in the kitchen. You know what to do.” Joe’s daughter was already gone. Claire laughed softly. “Another one bites the dust.”

  She and Jordan used to say that when her foster kids would go to the barn for therapy. It took about ten minutes with the horses for them to fall completely in love.

  Animals were magic with wounded children.

  An hour later, with the sun going down, Claire wrapped her brushes in plastic wrap and went looking for Amelia. She found her lying in the grass in the backyard with the kittens romping around her.

  Grabbing a couple of snack cakes from the counter, she headed outside. She sat down in the grass and, as Amelia pushed up to one elbow, tossed her a Swiss cake roll. “What’re you thinking about?”

  “Nothing, really.” Amelia unwrapped the snack and took a bite. “I guess just about how my mom dropped me off and didn’t even check to make sure my dad was there.”

  Claire’s heart felt like lead in her chest. She took a bite of her snack cake and chewed, weighing her words. “That had to be really scary.”

  Amelia dropped her head back to the grass and stared blankly at the sky. “I knew she didn’t take good care of me, but she’s my mom, you know?”

  “I do.” Claire lay back on the grass beside her, looking into the fluffy clouds, pink from the setting sun. “You know, it’s okay to love her, no matter what.”

&n
bsp; A tear streaked from Amelia’s eye into her hairline. She rubbed it away, sneaking a glance at Claire, who pretended not to see. “My dad’s trying really hard. I was mad at him for a while, but it’s not his fault my mom couldn’t keep it together.”

  “I think your dad will do anything he can to keep you safe. And he wants to make you happy, too, but it’s still okay to be sad about your mom.”

  Amelia rolled her head toward Claire. “When I was eight, my mom said we were going to go watch the fireworks on the Fourth of July. Instead, she got high and had a seizure. I found her in the bathtub. I thought she was gonna die.” She paused for a long minute. “My mom didn’t go to rehab, did she?”

  “I don’t know, Amelia.” Claire had answered questions like these more times than she wanted to think about from foster kids. It was always painful. “Do you miss her?”

  “Yes. Kind of. But with my dad, I’m not worried about food or whether he’s going to forget me at school.” The sun was sinking and in the twilight Amelia looked older than her twelve years. “Do you think Jesus is looking out for my mom?”

  Tears lodged in Claire’s throat and burned her eyes. This time she was the one blinking the moisture away so Amelia wouldn’t see it. “I know He is, honey. He was looking out for you when He brought you to your dad and He’s looking out for your mom right now.”

  “We should get the kittens back in the barn and check on Tinkerbell before dinner. It’s almost time for her baby to be born. I noticed she scratched all her hay into a pile today, just like you said she would.” As quick as that, the moment was gone. Amelia bounded to her feet and pulled Claire to hers. “And after dinner, I’m gonna beat you at cards.”

  Claire laughed. “Not a chance, but I’ll let you try.”

  As Amelia took the kittens back to the barn, Claire wondered if she’d said the right things. The questions were big questions. And some, like whether Amelia’s mom would allow Jesus to help her, only time could answer.

  She looked down the long drive out to the highway where Joe had left to go back to Florida, just for a visit this time, to check in with his doctor and the crisis response team he was a part of in Florida. She’d been praying for him all day, that things went well, and if they didn’t, that he had the strength and faith to deal with it.