Chapter 6
Today was a new day, Leah reminded herself as she set the plate of bacon and eggs in front of a glowering Jackson. He shoved it aside.
“Eat up.” Leah infused her voice with all the enthusiasm she possessed in this world. “Big day at school today, and then afterward some of my friends and family are coming over for dinner so they can meet you.”
If possible, Jackson’s expression soured even more, but Leah pressed on. “I noticed you didn’t have a backpack, so I dug one out of my closet. It’s not in the greatest shape, but it should do for today. We’ll get you a new one this weekend.”
Jackson pushed away from the breakfast bar. But she wasn’t sending him to school on an empty stomach.
“Eat at least half of that before we go.”
“Or what?” Jackson shot a half-smirk, half-taunt at her. “What are you going to do to me?”
Leah’s mouth opened and closed, and the breakfast she’d eaten before waking him rolled in her stomach. What would she do to him? Was he daring her to threaten him? Had he been threatened in the past?
“Or you’re going to be hungry,” she said simply, then turned to load the dishwasher. “What about lunch? Do you want me to make you something, or do you want to get lunch at school?”
Jackson didn’t answer, so she responded as if he had. “How about a PBJ? I saw you ate the one I left in your room last night. Pretty good, right?” There hadn’t been so much as a crumb left on his plate when she’d picked it up this morning.
“Whatever.” But when she’d made the sandwich and passed it to him in a paper lunch sack, he took it.
Leah resisted cheering out loud at the minuscule sign of progress and led him to the car.
As she looked over her shoulder to back out of the driveway, she noticed a figure standing on the sidewalk. Although the hood of his sweatshirt hung low over his forehead, she immediately recognized Austin.
He waved to indicate he’d wait for her to back down the driveway, and as they passed, he flashed her a quick look. Not a smile, exactly―more an acknowledgment that he recognized her.
When she’d gone back inside last night, she’d lain in bed a while, her earlier exhaustion chased away by the cold night air. She’d tried to list in her head more things she and Jackson could do together. But she hadn’t been able to focus as her thoughts kept drifting to the strange neighbor who felt the need to chop wood at midnight. She couldn’t help wondering what his whole story was. The scar she’d noticed on his jaw earlier suggested there was a lot more to it than what he’d told her.
Not that it mattered. It wasn’t like the guy owed her his whole life story. As long as he didn’t chop wood at midnight anymore, that was all that mattered to her.
Not who he was. Or why he’d come. Or what had caused that haunted look in his charcoal gray eyes.
Leah pulled onto the street, watching Austin in the car’s mirror. He took a few walking steps, bouncing a little as if warming up, then set out at a slow jog toward the outskirts of town. She made a mental note to tell him later that her brother was a runner too.
Jackson ignored all her attempts to start a conversation on the way to school, so she finally turned up the volume of the Christian radio station she always listened to.
When she reached the school, she pulled up to the curb where other parents were dropping off their children. “Have a good day.”
Jackson didn’t respond as he edged out of the car.
Groups of kids bubbled up the steps into the school, giggling and jostling each other. But none of them acknowledged Jackson. And he didn’t acknowledge them.
An ache filled Leah’s chest at the thought of how lonely the boy must be. According to the caseworker, this was the fourth school he’d attended in six years. No wonder he didn’t talk to anyone.
The car behind her honked, and Leah forced her eyes off Jackson as she eased her vehicle toward the exit. After ten years of following the same routine every day, it felt strange to be starting her day by dropping a kid off at school. Strange but good.
The start of a new routine. One that would last for many years to come.
She didn’t know what it would take to get it through to Jackson that he was here to stay, but she was going to figure it out. Even if it left her emotionally bruised and battered in the process.
The moment she reached the storefront that housed her commercial kitchen, she called the school to give them her contact information. The “oh” the secretary uttered when she said she was calling about Jackson was loaded with more meaning than any two-letter word should be able to carry. She chose to ignore it and simply relay the necessary information.
“Is there anything else you need from me?” she asked before hanging up.
“No, I’m sure we’ll be seeing you soon.” The secretary’s voice hung with that same meaning she’d pushed into the word “oh.”
Leah took a breath, commanding herself to ignore it. It wasn’t going to help Jackson if she got into an argument with the school secretary. Besides, the caseworker had already warned her last night that Jackson was on thin ice with the school.
She only hoped his teachers would see his new circumstances as a chance for him to begin again.
She thanked the secretary and hung up the phone, throwing herself into preparations for the wedding she was catering tomorrow.
Wait, tomorrow. How could she cater a wedding tomorrow when she had Jackson to take care of?
Technically, at twelve, he was old enough to stay home alone, but was that wise? She supposed she could bring him with her―if nothing else, she could put him to work folding napkins.
By lunchtime, Leah was elbow-deep in prepping the pinot noir sauce she’d need for the filet mignon the bride had insisted on, when her phone rang. Normally, she’d let it go to voice mail if she got a call when she was in the middle of something like this, but she had a child to worry about now.
Please don’t let it be about Jackson. She mouthed the prayer as she grabbed her phone off the counter. She didn’t recognize the number, but it was local. Which she assumed was a bad sign.
“Hello?”
“Ms. Zelner? This is Hillary, the secretary from Hope Springs Middle School. We spoke this morning?”
Leah closed her eyes, still praying. “Yes? Did you need more information from me?”
“We’re going to need you to come in and pick Jackson up. He’s been suspended for the rest of the day.”
Leah’s chin dropped to her chest, but she forced herself to ask. “Why?”
“He was involved in a fight.” Disdain dripped from the woman’s voice. “Again.”
Leah was already shoving ingredients back into the refrigerator. “I’ll be right there.”
When she pulled into the school parking lot fifteen minutes later, Leah slid into the closest spot. The sound of shrieking and laughter carried to her from the fenced yard behind the school. Most of the kids were apparently enjoying their lunch period.
But not Jackson.
Leah grimaced. This was not the first impression she wanted to make with the school.
She hurried toward the building and ran up the steps but stopped outside the doors to smooth her shirt, rubbing at the grease stain she’d gotten on the sleeve this morning.
Perfect.
Now they were going to think she was an incompetent mother and a slob.
She squared her shoulders and pushed through the front doors. It didn’t matter what they thought of her. What mattered was that they give Jackson another chance.
The moment she said her name, the secretary pointed toward a door beyond the reception desk marked with the ominous word “Principal.”
Mouth dry, Leah offered a grim thanks, then pushed the door open.
Jackson sat slumped in a straight-backed chair in front of the principal’s desk, a bag of ice pressed to his cheek. Leah rushed to his side and dropped to her knee.
She hadn’t been prepared to find him hurt. She silent
ly lifted the ice bag off, wincing at the purple bruise that was starting to form on his cheekbone.
“Ms. Zelner. Thank you for coming so quickly.”
Leah dutifully stood and shook the hand the older woman held out.
“I’m Mrs. Rice, the new principal here this year.”
Leah simply nodded. She knew that Mr. Jessup―who had been principal when she was a student here―had retired last year, but she hadn’t had an occasion to meet the new principal.
Until now.
“What happened?” Leah turned to Jackson, still slouched in the chair with the ice on his face. He stared at the floor. “Are you hurt?”
Mrs. Rice made a sound somewhere between a tsk and a snort. “It’s the other boy you should be concerned about.”
Leah’s stomach lurched. “What happened?” she repeated.
“Jackson decided to―”
Leah raised her hand to stop the principal. “I’d like to hear it from Jackson, if you don’t mind.”
Mrs. Rice spluttered but gestured for Jackson to answer the question.
His mouth remained closed, his eyes focused on the floor.
From behind the desk, Mrs. Rice cleared her throat. “Nothing happened. Nothing ever does. He just decides he doesn’t like the way a kid is looking at him that particular day and decides to beat the pulp out of them.”
“Beat the pulp out of?” Leah reached for the back of the empty chair next to Jackson to steady herself. Was he that violent?
“Bryce now has a bloody nose and possibly a dislocated finger.” Mrs. Rice gestured at Leah. “I understand you’re his new foster mother.”
Leah nodded, still clutching the chair back.
The principal rifled through a stack of papers on her desk, finally pulling out a puce sheet. “These are some resources we suggest for troubled students. I don’t know how many of them his former foster parents have tried. But something has to be done. I’m afraid Mr. Young doesn’t have many chances left.”
Leah’s shoulders tightened. What would happen then? Would Child Welfare take him away from her? Find her an unfit foster mother?
“Could I speak with you alone for a moment?” she managed to croak to Mrs. Rice.
The principal’s lips flattened into a crooked line. “Jackson, go wait in the outer office.”
Jackson didn’t look at Leah as he slunk out of the chair and skulked to the door.
As soon as he’d closed it behind him, Leah drew in a deep breath. It felt like whatever she said now was going to set the course for the rest of Jackson’s life.
No pressure.
She blew the breath out. “Mrs. Rice, I am so sorry that this happened, and I will talk with Jackson about it. It’s not acceptable behavior, and I know that. I’m sure he does too.”
Mrs. Rice raised an eyebrow. “Unfortunately, this is pretty regular behavior for him.”
“Please try to understand.” Leah stepped out from behind the chair to stand at the side of Mrs. Rice’s desk so she could look the older woman in the eye. “Jackson has been through a lot in his life, and his circumstances―”
Mrs. Rice held both her hands up in front of her, as if erecting a barrier to the rest of Leah’s explanation. “I know all about Jackson’s circumstances. But I have a school to run.”
“I know, and I can appreciate that,” Leah jumped in. “But I hope you can also appreciate that Jackson is going through a period of transition, and he’s struggling. I don’t think we can even imagine what it’s like to be moved from home to home like he has been.” She touched a hand to her chest. “It breaks my heart.”
Mrs. Rice’s face softened. “Look, I appreciate what you’re trying to do here. I really do. I hope you’ll be able to make a difference for Jackson. And I’ll do what I can to help. I’m just warning you that it might be a tough road. I hope you’re prepared for that. Because if you’re not, you might both be better off if you say so sooner rather than later.”
Leah gripped Mrs. Rice’s desk, every muscle in her body tensing. Did the principal really think Leah was just going to walk away from this boy? “Jackson is the way he is because he has been failed by every adult who has ever been part of his life.” She spun on her heel and stalked to the door, her breaths coming in sharp gasps. “I refuse to be one of them.”
Chapter 7
Three more reps, Austin pushed himself.
But the screaming pain from his knee stopped him after two more modified squats.
He cursed to himself. He could do this. He wanted to do it.
So why wouldn’t his body cooperate?
He dropped to the couch, massaging what was supposed to be his “good” knee. The doctor had said it had some arthritis, but he’d assured Austin it shouldn’t get much worse if Austin didn’t work it too hard.
But not working it too hard wasn’t an option. If he wanted to get off the temporary disability retired list and be fit for duty by the time of his next exam, he had to push himself as hard as he could.
The throbbing in his leg didn’t abate, but Austin ignored it, reaching instead for his other leg to unfasten his prosthetic and pull off his liner. He massaged the end of his residual limb, feeling the spot where his tibia had been cut, refusing to wince as his fingers kneaded into the skin. The muscles of his lower leg had atrophied over the past eleven months, so that this leg was decidedly smaller than the other.
But just as strong, he told himself, bending to pick up the crutches he’d discarded on the floor this morning. He needed a shower. But as he settled them under his arms, a movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention. A flash of light against something metallic. He jerked his head toward the front window, breath catching in his chest. But it was only a car pulling into the driveway next door.
He meant to move away from the window then, but for some reason, he couldn’t take his eyes off the car. Leah had gotten out and stood with her hand on her door, bending down to talk to someone inside. Must be her kid. The boy who’d taken off down the street last night.
Austin leaned his crutches against the couch and lowered himself onto the cushions. He didn’t know why, but he felt compelled to watch them.
After a minute, the kid climbed out of the car, closing it with a force that made Leah jump. Her eyes followed him up the walkway to the front door. From here, Austin couldn’t read her expression. But he was pretty sure it wasn’t a happy one.
She closed her own car door so lightly that Austin doubted it had latched properly. Then she stepped toward the back door on the driver’s side. But instead of opening it, she braced her elbows on it and dropped her head to her arms.
Austin recognized the move. How often had he done that over the past eleven months? Against his refrigerator, his apartment door, his bedroom wall?
It was a move of despair, of hopelessness.
Apparently, her second day as a foster mom wasn’t going so well either.
As Austin watched her, he debated with himself. Something inside told him he should go out there, offer a kind word, maybe a listening ear. But another part of him―the smarter part―said that was absurd. Whatever was going on with his neighbor was none of his business―and he didn’t want to make it his business. He had no desire to get close to her. And even less desire to get close to the kid. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.
He rubbed at the scar on his jaw as he watched her slouched there, clearly in anguish. He tried to tell himself to look away, but he couldn’t make himself obey.
After a few minutes, Leah lifted her head, swiped a quick hand over her cheeks and straightened her back. As she walked to the house, he could see the sheer force of will driving her there, and he was overcome by an irrational urge to cheer her on.
His phone dinged from beside him on the couch, and Austin glanced down at it, then looked away. It was an email notification. From the only person who emailed him anymore. The one person whose emails he couldn’t bring himself to open.
Tanner’s wife.
He had no idea what her messages said, and he couldn’t risk looking. He was too much of a coward to answer the question she’d asked him the one time she’d visited him in the hospital.
How are you?
How was he? He was alive, that’s how he was. When her husband was dead. And it was his fault. If he hadn’t insisted on picking Isaad up. If he had been the one driving as he was supposed to be. If he had been watching the road instead of joking around with the kid.
But ifs didn’t matter.
Austin had no idea how long he sat like that, staring at the phone screen even after it had gone blank. Finally, he put the phone away and lifted his head. The sun had dropped behind the trees across the street, leaving trails of deep pink and purple in the clouds. He glanced toward Leah’s house, but she must have long since gone inside.
A set of headlights swept down the street, slowing as it approached, then turning into Leah’s driveway. Before anyone had emerged from that car, another turned into her driveway. People spilled out of the cars, and their voices, indistinct but clearly joyful, carried across the yard and through Austin’s closed windows. He counted four adults―and it looked like one of them was carrying a young child. As they made their way to the door, two more cars drove up, parking on the street in front of Leah’s house. More people walked toward her door, more cheerful voices carried toward his house.
A grating kind of pain pressed at Austin’s gut. He’d known camaraderie like that once. With Chad and Tanner and all the rest of the guys in his unit. If he were over there right now, if the past year had never happened, they’d probably all be sitting around, playing a game of poker and ribbing each other about whatever came to mind.
More ifs that didn’t matter.
Austin grabbed his phone and hit the number for the pizza place―the only number he’d called since he got here. Then he pushed himself up from the couch, pretending not to notice as one more car pulled up to Leah’s house.
He preferred to be alone, anyway.
Not Until Christmas Morning (Hope Springs Book 5) Page 4