by Lea Coll
“No problem. I’m glad I could help out.”
I turned to find her smiling, but her eyes were sad, and I had to look away. I needed to go. How was it possible a woman I’d just met showed me more care and concern than I’d received from my family my whole life?
With one last nod at her, I opened the truck door and stepped inside. I didn’t look back at her or wave, but I knew she stood on the sidewalk watching us.
“It sucks we have to leave Stark here.” Everett shifted in his seat.
“He’ll be fine with Mia.” She seemed confident she could handle him, and the program had approved her.
“Why can’t he stay with me?” Everett stared out the window.
“You know why. Your grandparents don’t like dogs.” They weren’t allergic to them. There was no incident when a dog bit one of them.
They were my only option for Everett. I didn’t keep in touch with my sister, Avery. We were so far apart in age, we had nothing in common. By the time she was eight, I’d moved out. Rebecca’s parents hadn’t kept in touch after she left. I suspected they were embarrassed that their daughter left her son, or they simply didn’t want to deal with it. I didn’t want to think about how Everett felt about his remaining parent leaving too.
When Rebecca left, she said she didn’t want to be tied down. She’d never planned for a kid. We’d met before one of my deployments. It was an intense weekend. She tracked me down through the Navy because I didn’t give her my contact information after our weekend together.
I married her so she’d get all of the benefits of a military wife, but we were never in love. When Everett was born, Rebecca had difficulty bonding with him. I did my best to help but I worked long hours and was deployed from time to time. We tried that first year, but it was clear we’d never be more than co-parents, so we divorced.
“Grandma said something about making dinner for us.” I’d already moved out of our base housing in Norfolk. I wanted to see him settled in his temporary home before I left.
Everett looked out the window.
I knew he wasn’t happy I was leaving even though I wasn’t sure I’d been the best parent over the years. Since Rebecca left, I’d tried to step into her role as best I could. “What do you think about me discharging?”
He turned his attention to me. “You wouldn’t fly anymore?”
Pain stabbed my chest at the idea of not being able to do what I loved. Everett took pride in the fact that I was a pilot. “Hopefully, I could find a job flying that wouldn’t take me away from you.”
I needed to do some research while I was gone, ask my buddies if there was anything out there for retired Navy pilots.
“I’d like that.”
Even if I didn’t want to retire, I needed to do what was right for Everett. “One more deployment. Be good for Grandma and Grandpa, okay?”
“I will.”
I knew he wasn’t overly fond of their strict ways but I’d survived growing up with them and so would he.
Ten minutes later, I pulled down the long driveway to my parents’ colonial, parking in front of the garage. I unloaded our luggage from the bed of my truck.
“You ready?”
Everett stood unmoving, his forehead creased. He gave only a slight nod before we proceeded to the door. Since I left for college, I always rang the doorbell when I visited.
The door finally opened. “It’s about time you showed up. I have dinner waiting.” My mom stood there, annoyance evident on her face, in a dress and heels. Appearances were important to her. I wasn’t sure who she was trying to impress, but she’d always showered and put on makeup before we woke as kids, wearing heels even when cooking dinner.
“I never said what time I’d be here because we had to drop Stark off with the foster parent first.”
Mom finally stepped back so we could enter. “Everett, you can put your things in the first room on the right upstairs.”
Everett nodded and carried his bag up the stairs.
I wanted to tell my mom to try harder to make Everett feel welcome and wanted, but she wasn’t acting any differently than she had when I was a child. I didn’t think she was capable of anything more.
“When do you leave?” Her voice was stiff.
“Tomorrow, at nine. I’ll take an Uber.” Over the years, they’d never offered to drive me.
Dad walked into the kitchen, nodding in greeting to me, before grabbing a glass and filling it with water.
“Thanks for taking Everett.”
“Where else would he go?” Mom shot me a disbelieving look as if it was a given she’d take Everett when it wasn’t.
When Everett walked in, his body was stiff, his gaze on the floor.
My stomach churned that he’d overheard Mom’s statement. The last thing he needed was to be reminded he didn’t have many people who cared about him in his life. My mind shot to Mia and how quickly she seemed to care for us. What would it be like for Everett to have someone like her in his life?
“Can Stark stay with us?” Everett asked, surprising me. It was rare for him to ask something of my parents.
Mom’s face filled with disgust. “No. We don’t allow dogs in this house.”
“Can we at least visit with him?” Everett asked.
I winced because I knew the answer—no. Didn’t matter if I was asking or Everett was asking, that was always their answer.
“No, you know we don’t have time for things like that.” Then she turned to me. “You said he wouldn’t have any activities we’d need to take him to. The bus drops him off here and he’s old enough to stay by himself for a few hours. We didn’t sign up to watch a dog or set up visitations.”
“I know.” Mom felt the need to remind me of her limitations like I needed it. I knew what they were capable of and what they weren’t. They were workaholics whose sole motivator was their accounting firm. It was more reason to retire and find a place to settle down.
“No sports or activities. You want to do that you’ll have to wait for your dad to come back.”
That worked because Everett wasn’t involved in anything. Sometimes it worried me how he had no passion or interest in anything. My earliest memories are of playing with airplanes and watching the sky for them. I always wondered what it would be like to fly such a large machine. Shouldn’t Everett have some interest at this point in his life?
We sat down at her kitchen table for dinner where she outlined the rules for her house. Everett nodded when appropriate but stayed quiet. He wasn’t allowed to have friends over or go to friend’s houses. No activities. No social life. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to mind if he watched TV or played video games. There’d be a lot of that over the next few months.
“What are your plans when you get back?” Dad asked.
It was a subtle reminder they said they’d watch Everett this one time. “I’m thinking about retiring, maybe buying a home if Everett likes it here.”
Dad nodded. He was proud of my career, but that support ended when I needed his help with Everett to continue doing it.
When Mom got up to clear the dishes, I leaned closer to Everett and lowered my voice. “Six months. I’ll retire and we’ll buy a home.”
“Here?”
“We’ll see where I can get a job and if you like the school.”
“Okay. I can do it for six months.”
“I’m proud of you.” It felt good to tell Everett something my parents never told me.
Everett’s eyes shot to mine. “Really?”
“You’re being very mature about this. I know it has to be hard on you.” I wasn’t always in touch with my feelings but when it came to Everett, I wanted to try. I remembered what my childhood was like. What I used to want before I realized my parents weren’t going to provide anything other than shelter, food, and material things.
I wanted Everett to be a boy for as long as he could. I wanted better for him. I wanted him to enjoy life—not just exist.
Chapter Two
&n
bsp; Mia
When I’d opened the door to see Mason, his Navy T-shirt stretched impossibly tight over hard pecs, bulging biceps, broad shoulders, my heart stuttered. His blond hair was trimmed in a military cut close to his head, his eyes were a startling blue despite the dullness, and his jaw was cut sharp—I don’t know what the term was, but that feature was my new favorite in a man. The muscles didn’t hurt either. His entire demeanor exuded confidence and he walked with a swagger that probably came from being a pilot.
I usually stuck to the preppy looking beta guys. Ones I thought I had the best chance with. Mason was the opposite. He was hot, confident without being cocky, and used to ordering people around. I squeezed my thighs together at the thought of being with him. He’d be just as confident and sure of himself in bed. He wouldn’t ask permission to kiss me like other guys I’d dated.
But I could only look and admire him from afar. He was leaving, and I was going to be more cautious about dating going forward.
This was my first day at a new school. I’d taken over for the other counselor who was on maternity leave. She’d taken one year off. My hope was she’d take more time so I could stay. I needed to prove myself, make good relationships with the students. There were few counselor positions at schools these days and plenty of counselors who needed jobs. I’d lucked into this position as it was. I couldn’t do anything to screw it up.
I checked my computer for the last time before I needed to be outside greeting the kids on the first day of school. I typically spent the morning coaxing one or two out of their cars, helping with schedules, and dealing with the few families that waited until the first day of school to enroll.
I greeted the enthusiastic and not-so-enthusiastic kids as they stepped off the bus, welcoming them back. I recognized Everett as soon as he stepped off the bus, looking uncertain.
“Hey, Everett. Can I walk you to your first class or at least direct you?” Sixth grade was the youngest grade in this middle school. Sometimes kids wanted assistance, but usually they preferred making their own way.
“I have to be in Ms. Patrick’s homeroom.”
I took the hint he didn’t want an escort. “Down the hall. Last door on the right.”
His eyes softened in relief. “Okay.”
When the kids were in class, I spent the day fixing schedules, registering the few children who hadn’t yet, and signing up for things in the school so I could get to know people and make myself indispensable. I signed up for the hospitality committee to help with staff birthdays and cakes, then added more lunch and parking lot duties to my schedule. I ignored the nagging thought I was taking on too much. If this position became available, I wanted it to be offered to me.
On Friday of the first week, I summoned Everett to my office to see how he was doing.
When Everett knocked, signaling his arrival, I rose, closing the door behind him. “Hey, thanks for meeting with me.”
“Did I have a choice?”
This attitude was new. Maybe he wasn’t adjusting as quickly as he’d like.
“I wanted to check in with you.”
He was quiet for a few seconds.
“I have pictures of Stark.”
His hard features slipped away at the mention of his dog. “Can I see?” His voice was softer and more vulnerable.
“Of course.” I scrolled to the most recent pictures, handing him my phone.
Everett looked up from looking at the photos. “You took a lot of pictures.”
I told myself it was to show Everett or Mason how he was doing, but the truth was, I’d quickly attached to their dog. “He’s a great dog.”
“I miss him.” His voice cracked slightly. He cleared his throat to cover the sound.
He set the phone on the desk between us. I worried if I’d made things worse for him by showing him pictures. “How are you doing?”
“Good.”
I took this extra time with all new students. A lot of kids come into school with trust issues. They might have been let down by adults or authority figures. I wanted him to know teachers and counselors can be trusted. We care about them as individual people. I’d gotten a glimpse of Everett’s home situation—a deployed father and grandparents who wouldn’t take his dog during this tough time. I wondered where his mother was. “How do you like your teachers?”
“They’re fine.”
Simple one or two-word answers that were completely normal for any sixth grader, but I wanted to know more. “Is this different from your old school?”
“Yeah, I went to school with those kids all my life. I had friends.” He glared at me as if I was the reason he was here.
“Do you plan to return to your old school when your father returns?” Depending on what he said, it would change my approach with him. He was either biding his time until he saw his friends again or he’d need to make new friends to fit in.
Everett’s entire demeanor changed from annoyed teenager to hopeful. “Dad is going to retire when he gets back. We might stay.”
“And you’re not sure you like it here?” When he looked down at his feet, I continued, “You’ve only been here a week. Give it a chance. It’s tough being new, but in sixth grade everyone is new. Not everyone came from the same elementary school.”
His slight nod was the only indication he’d heard me.
“It will get better. I promise. My door is always open. If it’s more comfortable, you can contact me through the online form.”
Friday night, I was exhausted after the first week back in school. I’d volunteered to help with Back to School night and covered classes for a teacher who left sick at the end of the day. Working with the students in the classroom was more draining than my usual duties.
I’d wanted to touch base with Mason to let him know how Everett was doing. I’d messaged him the first week I had Stark to let Mason know he was settling in, how I hoped he’d made it to his destination safely. I included a picture of Stark on his bed. I could see Mason “read” the message, but he hadn’t responded. I tried not to let his lack of response get to me. He was busy.
On the first day of school, I’d sent a message telling him I saw Everett. He seemed like he was doing okay. He thanked me.
Mia: I met with Everett today to see how he was doing. He said he was doing okay.
Not that a sixth grader would necessarily tell me if anything was wrong.
Mason: Thanks for the update.
I waited but no other message came through. Should I write you’re welcome or let it go? Before I could change my mind, I attached a picture of Stark chasing after a tennis ball at the park this past weekend.
Mason: You don’t have to send proof of life pictures. I trust you with my dog.
My lips twitched. Was he being funny? He didn’t seem like a guy who joked much when I met him. I liked it.
Mia: I thought you might like to see pics from home.
Mason: I don’t. It makes things harder.
I hadn’t thought about that. The idea that hearing about his son or seeing pictures of his dog would make him homesick.
Mia: I’m sorry.
Mason: It’s fine.
Except it wasn’t fine. I’d wanted to ease his mind, but I’d made things worse for him. I did a quick search on deployments and specifically time spent on aircraft carriers. The gist of the few articles I perused said soldiers and in Mason’s case, sailors, detached in the weeks leading up to the deployment, preparing mentally for the separation. It wasn’t something that happened consciously. My heart clenched at the emotional toll it took on not only the military men and women, but their families left behind.
How did keeping in touch with Everett affect him? Did it drive him crazy that he couldn’t be here for him? Is that why he compartmentalized his home life from the carrier? He couldn’t focus on flying if he was worried about things back home he couldn’t control.
The trauma of my parents dying when I was young prompted me to be a counselor. I liked to help people, espec
ially kids who were vulnerable. Sometimes it wasn’t overtly apparent they were dealing with something, even though a drop in grades or getting into trouble could be a sign. I routinely checked in with kids who were dealing with divorce or grief, but Mason hadn’t checked either of those options on his enrollment paperwork. I wasn’t sure what his situation was, but I made a mental note to keep an eye on Everett.
A couple of weeks later, sixth-grade teacher and friend, Hannah, stepped into my office. “Hey. You have a minute?”
“Of course.” I happily turned my attention from my computer screen to her.
Hannah sat across from me, her forehead wrinkled. “I wanted to talk to you about Everett Arrington. I didn’t want to fill out an office referral when he’s probably just acting out because he’s new.”
I folded my hands in front of me. “What happened?”
“He had his phone out in class. When I confronted him about it, he said he was messaging his father who’s deployed. I’m sympathetic to his situation, but—”
“He can’t be on his phone during class. I’ll call him in. See what’s going on.” I was glad Hannah came to me before issuing a punishment.
“Thank you, Mia. I really appreciate it.” She stood, resting her hand on the doorjamb. “Brunch this weekend?”
“Of course.” My friends met for weekly Sunday brunches. Occasionally one canceled because they had other plans or wanted to spend time with their boyfriend, but it was the one constant since college. I’d made lasting friendships I hoped I wouldn’t lose to marriage and children one day.
When she left, I checked to see which class Everett was in, calling his teacher. He walked into my office a few minutes later, dropping into the chair, his legs spread wide, his hands interlaced over his stomach, a sneer on his lips.
His attitude was surly, a stark contrast from the first week.