Her Son's Hero

by Vicki Essex

  “That’s just not true,” Denise snapped. “Rene loves his father. He’s always happy when he visits.”

  “So happy that he needs to learn how to protect himself from a bully bigger than him?” Fiona hadn’t meant it to come out harshly, but she wasn’t going to get through to the woman without rattling her a bit. Her anger was surging back now—at Denise and Rene’s blind stubbornness.

  “Sean told me everything. That incident in the river? Rene asked Sean to teach him more moves so he’d have an arsenal against his own father, who hits him every time he goes to visit. That’s what he said. And then he buys him things and sends you money.”

  Sean had told them all this, the pity in his face for his former foe so bleak and sincere that even Brett had looked tearful. The redheaded boy hadn’t denied a word Sean said. “Rene’s been learning karate so he can protect you, too. Did your son ever tell you that?”

  Denise scoffed. “I don’t need protection. Derek and I are divorced, and I got the better end of the deal. Always have, always will. That boy loves his father more than he loves anything. I won’t take that away from him, and if that means I get a few licks now and again—”

  “You’re wrong, Denise. He does love something more than his father. He loves you.”

  Denise froze for a moment. Then she squared her shoulders. “Don’t tell anyone, y’hear? I don’t need Salmon River’s pity. I don’t need them whispering behind my back. I’m a good mother. I’d do anything for Rene.”

  “Including letting his father beat him up? The man’s a criminal.”

  “Police can’t press charges unless I tell them to.”

  “But I can report him,” Fiona said, and straightened. “I will report him. For your sake and Rene’s.”

  The swollen half of Denise’s face didn’t change, but the other half contorted into an ugly mask. “Get off my property. If the police come around here, I’ll deny everything. It’ll be your word against mine and Rene’s, and you’re nothing but the ex-wife of a convicted criminal. You’re in my town, Fiona. You hear me? I don’t need your pity!”

  Fiona did hear, even though she was already on her way down the steps, heading for the car. Denise was right. She could report Rene’s father, but the chances were he was long gone from Salmon River. And when it came down to it, Rene might take his father’s side. They would deny everything, and the cycle of abuse would just keep going.

  “ARE YOU MAD AT ME?”

  Dom looked up blearily at Sean, still in his gi, his pale face somber and serious. Dom’s mind had been overstuffed with what Fiona had told him about the Kirkpatricks. She was talking to the police over the phone now, but by the sounds of it, she didn’t seem to be getting through to them.

  “Why would I be angry at you?” Dom asked, puzzled. He gestured for the boy to take a seat next to him on the piled mats.

  “I didn’t tell you about Rene…” Sean fidgeted. “That day in the river when I was trying to teach him how to throw a guy…”

  “You did what you thought was right at the time.” Dom rubbed his jaw, feeling older and more tired than he should.

  “But I knew it wasn’t right. Mom always says that if someone’s hurting you, you have to tell someone so they stop.”

  Dom had tried telling his teachers about how his father would get drunk and smack him around, but they’d thought it was the blown-up imaginings of a fourteen-year-old seeking attention after the death of his mother. They’d thought he was just acting out, playing the rebellious, angst-ridden teenager, making up stories because that’s what boys his age did.

  Others thought he’d probably done something to deserve the beatings. And Dom had started believing it, too…. “It’s not always that easy.” The grim memories made him frown. “You kept Rene’s secret because he asked you to, right?”

  Sean nodded.

  “Then that’s all you could have done, until the time came to speak up. And you did. I’m proud of you.” He ruffled the boy’s hair affectionately, then put an arm around his shoulders and gave him a half hug. To his surprise, Sean hugged him back, his wiry arms barely circling his torso, and Dominic felt a surge of protectiveness.

  He remembered Rene’s snarling face as he’d kicked Sean in the ribs. Now that he knew where that brutality had come from, he felt sorry for the boy. Dom and Rene had very similar backgrounds in that respect: abusive fathers, a sense of powerlessness. But Sensei Miwa had taken Dom in hand and drawn him away from the path to self-destruction. Did Rene have someone to look out for him?

  Dom gazed at the other little boy who’d also once been a victim. He thought about Sean’s father, Fiona’s ex, and marveled at how Sean had grown up without the same kind of hate and violence Rene had fostered. No doubt Fiona’s peace-loving influence had kept Sean from being led astray. If Rene had confided in him, had reached out and asked for his help, maybe there was still hope. Sean was a smart, sensitive kid. Any man would be proud to have him as a son.

  If he were my son…

  The treacherous thought crept up on him from out of nowhere.

  Fiona hung up and massaged her temples, abject disgust on her face. Her expression froze, however, when she saw Dom with an arm slung around her son. He carefully removed it.

  “Not good news, I take it.”

  “Sheriff Taylor basically told me he’s not going to investigate,” Fiona muttered. “He said he’ll send his deputy around to check on Denise and Rene and keep an eye out for her ex, Derek Spaulding, but unless Denise files a report, they won’t do anything. I think this has happened before.”

  Dom scowled. “It’ll happen again if Denise doesn’t say anything.”

  “What am I supposed to do? She won’t listen to me. I just don’t understand how she can let Rene live like this.” Fiona shook her head, then made a strange choking noise. “What am I saying? Of course I know.” She let out a groan. “God, was I this self-deluded, too?”

  “Hindsight is twenty-twenty. Look, from her perspective, Denise has fooled herself into thinking everything’s okay, and she has the whole town convinced that’s true. Even if everyone knows what’s really going on, they’ve convinced themselves it’s status quo to look the other way, that Denise really doesn’t need anyone’s help.”

  “That’s just horrible.” Fiona joined them on the mats, sandwiching her son between them. Sean leaned into her as she hugged him tight. Dom fought the urge to enclose the two of them in a fierce bear hug and never let go.

  “All I’m saying is that right now, Denise is probably warring against her own self-delusions, and those are some of the hardest battles to fight. You fought them and you won.” Dom glanced at Fiona, smiling faintly over Sean’s blond head. “I can’t imagine what it took for you to pick up and leave your family and move here.”

  “It wasn’t easy,” she agreed. “I’m starting to wonder whether she hated me because I’d escaped what she was still trapped by. I mean, subconsciously and all that…” Fiona shook her head. “I want to hate her still for what she’s letting her son live through, but I can’t. Poor Rene. I mean, how could she not have noticed all those scars and bruises on his face? How could she not have known what was happening between her son and his father? What’s still happening?”

  Dom squeezed her shoulder, the only bit of comfort he could permit himself to give—and take. “Sometimes love makes us blind to the really bad stuff.”

  Fiona met his gaze with sadness. “Real love should open your eyes.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  NO ONE SAW MUCH of either Denise or Rene over the next two weeks. Frustratingly, if others knew about Derek Spaulding’s abuse, the knowledge was kept to a minimum. Fiona could hardly judge, considering her past with Mitch, but it aggravated her that the conspiracy of silence was so thick.

  She thought about informing Child Services, but her report probably wouldn’t render any more results than it had with the local authorities. Denise was in denial. Until she was ready to take charge of her life and activ
ely protect her son, Fiona couldn’t do anything except continue to call the Kirkpatrick house, day after day. And day after day get hung up on.

  August arrived on a heat wave that scorched Virginia. Salmon River nearly melted beneath the blistering sun. The weekenders waited out the worst of the noonday heat on shaded patios and in air-conditioned restaurants. While on a break, Fiona sat in a lawn chair beneath a beach umbrella in front of Leeds Reads, her pants rolled to her knees as she tried to tan her feet so the zebra stripes from her sandals wouldn’t be quite so noticeable. Marion liked to set a few of the comfortable lounge chairs up so people could rest in the shade and enjoy their new books.

  “I hope you put sunscreen on those toes.” Dom’s broad shadow eclipsed her. He looked yummy in a Dri-FIT T-shirt and jeans. Fiona couldn’t help her appreciation. Or the warmth spreading through her bones.

  “Shouldn’t you be doing one-armed push-ups or something?”

  “It’s my day off, and the guys are bored with babysitting me. That’s why I came out here to see you. What time are you done work?”

  “Four. Why?”

  “I want to take you out.”

  She blinked up at him, wondering if she’d heard him right. “Take me out where?”

  “Dinner. Something fancy with a rose on the table, if something like that exists in Salmon River. Maybe dancing. Or a movie, if you prefer.”

  “You’re asking me out on a date?”

  He chuckled, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Don’t make it easy or anything. I’ve only been psyching myself up all week.”

  “I’m sorry, it’s just… It’s been a long time since anyone asked me out.” Maybe it was the heat, but she was feeling a little light-headed. She’d successfully ignored—okay, maybe not ignored, but at the very least tamped down—her attraction to Dom. But this request was firing up those prickly nerves that yearned for his touch and reminded her of that scorching kiss they’d shared.

  She had to rein in these unsettling feelings. “I don’t have a babysitter for Sean. I mean, my neighbor Gail usually takes him, but I don’t like to impose on her, since she works weekends.”

  “I guess Sean hasn’t talked to you yet.”

  “About what?”

  As if on cue, her son pounded toward her from across the street, still wearing his gi. “Mom! Mom!”

  “Hey, sweetie.” She sat up, taking in the healthy, happy glow on his face. “What’s up?”

  “Scott Madden invited me to sleep over at his place tonight. He’s having a birthday party with some guys from the dojo and he wants me to come!”

  Fiona was shocked into silence. Scott Madden was Teresa Madden’s grandson. Surely they wouldn’t have allowed Sean “spawn of the con” into their moral, upright home…?

  “Please, Mom? Please, please, please?”

  She hesitated. “I don’t know, Sean…. I should really talk to Scott’s mom first.”

  “Patricia’s very happy to have him,” Dom interjected, a knowing twinkle in his eye. “I was talking to her earlier about Scott’s progress. She was impressed with Sean’s performance at the arts fair, and Scott asked if Sean could come to the party.”

  Fiona narrowed her eyes. Had he been speaking for her on Sean’s behalf? She didn’t know much about any of the other Maddens apart from elderly Teresa, and had never spoken to Patricia directly, either. Could they be trusted with her son?

  “It’ll be my first sleepover! Please, Mom?”

  “I have Patricia Madden’s phone number.” Dom slipped a piece of paper out of his pocket, then handed her his cell phone. “Why don’t you call her now?”

  How convenient. Reluctantly, Fiona took his cell and dialed. Patricia picked up right away.

  “Hi, Patricia? This is Fiona MacAvery.”

  “Fiona, oh, my God, it’s so good to finally talk to you!”

  “Uh…it is?”

  “I have to tell you, seeing you and Sean on stage with Mr. Payette… Wow. You guys were so beautiful up there.”

  “Thank you.” She really didn’t know what else to say.

  “I’m guessing you’re calling about Scott’s birthday party. My son did invite him last minute, but let me assure you, I’m absolutely fine with it. We’ve got plenty of food and room and I’d love Scott to have more friends.”

  “You would?” Fiona felt like a moron for her two-word answers.

  “This must seem completely out of nowhere.” Patricia laughed. “As you might have guessed, people in Salmon River take a long time to warm up to newcomers. I mean, I arrived here ten years ago and no one talked to me until almost a year after I married my husband, Frank. Heck, some people still won’t talk to me. You know how small towns are sometimes—quick to judge and mistrust outsiders.”

  She hardly thought that was an excuse for the treatment she and Sean had received. But could she honestly say she’d done her best to dispel the rumors about her family? No. Instead, she’d retreated.

  Fiona had been so bent on independence, she’d closeted herself and Sean away, sequestering them from the rest of Salmon River so she could lick her wounds and keep her and her son safe. She’d let Denise’s sniping represent the whole community. And then it had turned out the woman had her own issues.

  “Anyhow, I hope you’ll let Sean come. Scotty’s so excited—he talks about Sean a lot. Says he’s a really good student in Mr. Payette’s class.”

  “He’s been practicing hard.”

  “Does Sean have any allergies or special diets? Because I can accommodate just about anyone. Also, the boys will be sleeping in the basement, but it’s quite warm and dry and comfortable down there. If he has asthma, I think he’ll still be okay. So will he come?”

  Fiona found it impossible to say no. They discussed a few more details of the party before signing off.

  “Okay, Sean,” she said after she finished her call. “You can go.”

  Her son let out a whoop.

  “You have to be on your best behavior. Good table manners, no foul language and listen to the Maddens. You’re their guest, remember.”

  “I know, Mom, I know.”

  “And no karate or horseplay,” Dom warned.

  “No, sir.” Sean said it with such sobriety, he left them no doubt.

  “Why don’t you go into the shop and find a book Scott might like for his birthday,” Fiona suggested. “You can’t go empty-handed.”

  Sean left a dust cloud in his wake.

  “Looks like your night is free,” Dom said.

  Fiona couldn’t help the deep blush or slow smile spreading across her face.

  FIONA HAD SPENT AN HOUR after work showering and digging through her closet for something to wear that was both stylish and sexy, but not too showy and that—please, God, please—still fit after all this time. It had been way too long since she’d made use of her “good” clothes, seeing as most of her nights out involved places that had a kids’ menu and crayons for coloring place mats. She settled on a navy blue and silver floral cap-sleeve dress with ballet flats and dangly silver earrings. A touch of eye shadow and lip gloss and she felt prettier than she had in a long, long time.

  The extra effort was worth it. When Dom arrived, he couldn’t stop staring at her. Awareness prickled her skin as his eyes caressed every inch of her. It seemed her Sean-free night was already getting to her. Very un-mommy-like thoughts swirled through her head, and she was dreaming up all kinds of things she and Dom could have for dessert.

  Dinner was spectacular by any standards, featuring grown-up conversation, linen napkins, a menu that didn’t have chicken fingers or hamburgers on it, and, yes, even a rose in a little vase set at the center of the table. Dom had driven them about thirty minutes out of town to a restaurant Josie had suggested. The chef ordered their desserts from Josie Baby’s, so it was high on the baker’s recommended list.

  Fiona had thought she’d be more nervous about being on her first date in a long, long time, but she was entirely at ease. Rather, the fluttery fe
eling in her stomach was being caused by the man across from her. Dom, freshly showered and shaved, looked like he’d stepped out of GQ in a cream linen jacket, dark trousers and light blue pinstripe shirt that highlighted his gorgeous eyes. He seemed entirely at ease, too, his heart-melting smile never wavering, his eyes rarely leaving hers as they chatted about mundane things. And he hung on her every word as if she were dispensing the secrets of life, though all she talked about was Sean.

  “He’s a very special boy,” Dom said. “I’m quite impressed by how quickly he’s learned his forms. His memory retention is remarkable.”

  “It’s not photographic,” Fiona explained, “just really good. There was some talk about getting him into a gifted program but…” She trailed off.

  “But what?”

  “Well, it’s fairly expensive. And there’s nowhere near Salmon River he could go.”

  “Have you thought about moving?”

  She shook her head. “The house was willed to me by an aunt. In this market, it wouldn’t fetch enough to set us up anywhere Sean could go to a gifted school, even if I could find a decent job. That’s why we moved here after the divorce went through. I couldn’t afford a place otherwise. The legal bills for my ex’s defense and all the debt he left in my hands pretty much drained us dry.”

  Dom hesitated. “Can I ask you…”

  “What Mitch did?” She’d both dreaded and anticipated this question all evening. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard it from someone else.”

  “I don’t put much stock in secondhand accounts. I’m asking you.”

  She cut into her steak with enough force to rattle the table. “Short version of the story is he screwed a whole bunch of investors and bilked his own father’s company out of hundreds of thousands of dollars, then tried to launder the money through different side ventures. I had to testify against him in court. People used to come by the house at all hours of the night, and there’d be arguments. I heard a few things I probably shouldn’t have. When it came down to it, I had to testify or else face jail time for conspiracy and perjury, or something like that. And I wasn’t about to take a fall for Mitch.”