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She had to change their opinions before they succeeded in convincing the board to deny her tenure. Success with Connor and other disruptive students would earn her the credibility needed to gain a permanent staff position. If she didn’t get tenure... Her brain halted the terrifying thought.
The prospect of failing and having to return to her old life where money, not people, counted, where prestigious jobs, rather than rewarding ones mattered most, loomed dark and ominous. If she moved back in with her aunt, she’d demand Rebecca “do something important” with her life, like open a private practice that served a more privileged clientele. Not that this group didn’t have real problems, too...it was just that kids in the public school system needed her more.
She downed more coffee, then drummed her fingers on the side of her mug. Somehow she had to make this work. Prove to the staff, once and for all, that she was an asset to the school and deserving of joining them permanently.
“When I arrived,” continued the educator, clearly relishing his dramatic tale, “I had to pull Connor off another student. Since he was still swinging, I took a punch to the shoulder. It didn’t look as though it mattered who he hit, even an adult.”
Connor’s shoulders rose and fell as an irritated breath escaped him.
“Do we know why this fight happened?” asked the guidance counselor. Dark circles rimmed her eyes. With graduation approaching, she must have spent long hours over break checking transcripts, Rebecca guessed.
“Look, I know Connor comes across rough around the edges, but he’s had a hard life.” Aiden leaned forward, his eyes earnest. Connor glanced at his brother and his mouth opened slightly. He tapped a stray paper clip on the table until the assistant principal yanked it away with a stern look.
“Growing up without a dad—and a mother who rarely recognizes him—hasn’t been easy. I’m not making any excuses. He was wrong and acted like a delinquent.” Aiden’s large hands splayed across the table. “But he hasn’t been given the structure and discipline he needs at this school. Lunch detention in Ms. Day’s office isn’t a real punishment, when Connor mentions playing video games and eating Skittles.”
An awkward hush fell and Rebecca’s cheeks warmed as the math teacher smirked. “We do those activities during my lunch groups, not lunch detention,” Rebecca clarified, striving to maintain a professional tone as she imagined throttling the clueless guardian. He’d know that if he actually listened to his brother. Attended one of her requested meetings.
Aiden’s chest rose and fell sharply. “And what is lunch detention, then? M&M’S? You’ve been enabling his behavior.”
“And how much time have you spent addressing his actions?” she challenged, her control slipping through her fingers like sand. Darn it. She was not some easy, soft touch the kids took advantage of. Her gaze roamed around the table, taking in the shuttered expressions of her colleagues.
Was she?
“That’s your job,” he said through gritted teeth. When his cell phone buzzed again, he yanked it out of his pocket and punched it off, his eyes never leaving Rebecca’s.
“No. It’s—”
“A village.” Mrs. Carpenter interrupted Rebecca smoothly. “It takes a village to raise a child. We all need to work together. It’s why we’re here today. For you, Connor.” She reached over to pat the boy’s hand and he yanked it away, knotting his fingers on his lap.
“And Connor goes to Ms. Day’s when he acts out because, as a behavioral therapist, she’s the best person to defuse his outbursts,” she finished.
Rebecca subsided back against her chair, fuming, though grateful for her principal’s support. Guardians like Aiden drove her crazy. They pushed her near the line she could not cross. She bit the inside of her cheek and focused on the sting instead of what she really wanted to say to the jerk who’d fooled her last night into thinking he was a nice guy. That he cared. Wanted to hear about her problems.
Oh no. Had she really complained about her control-top panty hose?
“Right,” Aiden said, after a beat of silence, not looking as though he agreed at all. “The facts are that, according to Connor, Marshall started the fight by picking on our youngest brother, Daniel, when he arrived to walk home with his brother, and I believe Connor. Please readmit him and reassign him to his old therapist. He knew how to be tough on my brother.” Aiden ran his hand through his thick, short waves. His eyes met Rebecca’s, then slid away, a muscle jumping in his clenched jaw.
“Hear, hear,” murmured a few of the other teachers.
“And his failure to help Connor was the reason he was transferred to me,” Rebecca insisted. “Although we’ve only been working together a short time, I believe I’m making progress with him.”
“Some progress...is boxing one of your methods?” chimed in another teacher, Mr. LaValley. “I agree with Mr. Walsh, Connor should be sent back to his original therapist.”
Connor’s head snapped up and Rebecca sent him a reassuring look. No. That wouldn’t happen. A guardian requesting a transfer from her caseload looked bad for her tenure prospects. More importantly, Connor, who struggled to build rapport with adults, would have to work with someone he already disliked. It’d taken almost three weeks of patience, good humor and losing badly to him at card games for him to open up to her...a bit.
“Well, we certainly know who ended the fight.” Mr. Anderson scowled. “I didn’t see Marshall picking on Connor’s younger brother or hitting back. And I certainly didn’t deserve the violence I received.”
“I say we vote,” chimed in Mr. LaValley. He looked down the table at Connor, who was unraveling the metal spiral binding from his notebook. “Connor, you’re in my study hall five minutes, tops, before you’re causing problems and I don’t see that changing. Do you?”
The youth ripped out a length of the wire without acknowledging the teacher, and Rebecca winced. She hated that Connor was required to be present in order to hear these remarks. Superintendents’ hearings deliberately included students so they could understand how their behavior affected the staff and school. Yet it rarely motivated students to make lasting changes, in Rebecca’s opinion.
Murmurs of agreement circled the table and the teacher continued. “Other kids can’t work with that kind of troublemaking going on. We’ve given Connor too many chances, let him off easy. Let’s vote.”
Rebecca scratched her ear, trying not to squirm at the man’s condemning stare or the labeling they heaped on Connor. He’d slid so low in his chair he looked ready to fall under the table. Poor kid. How could he ever see himself positively when so many adults told him otherwise? Someday, if—when?—she had tenure, she’d fight to change the way these hearings were conducted.
Rebecca cleared her throat. “I’d like to propose a third alternative to readmitting Connor or expelling him.” The meeting and the teen’s fate were spiraling in the wrong direction. If she didn’t act fast, she wouldn’t be able to help him or disprove her detractors. If he succeeded, so did she, and they’d both be permanent school members.
She met Aiden’s speculative stare dead-on. Imagine. Blaming her for Connor’s poor choices—which were really just a cry for attention, a pattern of behavior he’d fallen into after being overlooked at home. Aiden might have inherited a lot of responsibility ten years ago when he’d been—she glanced at the file—just twenty-one, but that didn’t excuse a lack of caring. He needed to be a brother to Connor, not just a provider. Show up for more of Connor’s life than just the bad parts.
If he didn’t approve of her tactics now, just wait until he heard her plans.
“Psychologists in nearby districts and I are piloting a cutting-edge program that gets kids out of the city for a couple of weeks, in the Adirondacks, where we’ll provide therapy as well as teamwork, trust and esteem-building activities.”
“He’ll miss classes.”
“How will our budget pay for that?”
“Who’s supposed to supervise this? Not us.”
Comments exploded around the table and Rebecca’s head throbbed. Cold/flu, take two.
“The program starts during summer break so that it won’t interfere with academics,” she replied, noting when the guidance counselor caught her eye and nodded slowly. “As for the budget, we’ve received a generous grant, so it won’t affect school programs already in place.”
She returned her principal’s broad smile. They’d been particularly proud of receiving government funding for their request. Even better, there would be a stipend for Rebecca that would offset her financial woes this summer. Most important, success would make her tenure nearly undeniable. “As for supervision, a psychologist from each of the participating schools will attend, as well as trained staff at the camp and a few parent chaperones.”
“Where is it?” asked the guidance counselor. She pushed her slipping glasses back in place, suddenly looking interested.
“Tupper Lake. There’s a hundred-year-old farmhouse on the 230-acre property, which includes the west branch of the Ausable River, forested land and open fields, all owned and donated for this use by the Sikes family. We’ll use it as our base camp and all activities will be conducted around it.” Rebecca warmed to her topic, despite Aiden’s chilly expression.
“And how is that supposed to be a punishment?” grumbled Mr. Anderson.
“Connor needs to be accountable for his actions, not taken on vacation,” interjected Aiden. He drummed his fingers on the table.
“It’s not a punishment or a vacation,” Rebecca said evenly, after counting backward from ten. And taking a sip of coffee. And unnecessarily shuffling through her papers.
Control. Patience. Understanding. The tenets of her profession. “It’s behavior modification.” She pressed on, ignoring the subtle looks being exchanged between the study hall and math teachers. “Moving to the wilderness is a significant life change. It removes adolescents from their emotional comfort zone and requires different skills for self-care.”
“Making s’mores?” scoffed Mr. Anderson.
“Learning to make their own food is a part of it.” Rebecca had planned to present the program during a faculty-wide meeting, sell the skeptical teachers on it before recommending students. Now, she had to speak on the spot. Never her strong suit.
She pretended to sip her coffee again, even though there was nothing in her mug. At last, she set it down and took a deep breath. “The simplicity of the wilderness environment helps teenagers to recognize the results of their behavioral choices and encourages them to employ different coping strategies,” she continued, reciting the words she’d written in the grant proposal. “The challenges and activities we provide, in conjunction with group and individual therapy sessions, help students to address personal issues, increase self-esteem, achieve success in a safe environment, engage in healthy relationships and develop leadership potential.”
Connor stopped chewing his nails and stared at her.
“Leadership,” guffawed Mr. LaValley, until the guidance counselor tapped the table in front of him with her pen.
Mr. Williams leaned over the table, his crisp red tie dipping into a puddle of spilled coffee. “I’m liking the sound of this, Ms. Day. What efficacy statistics can you share?”
Rebecca released a small breath at his encouraging smile. “Studies show that outdoor behavioral health care results in clinically significant reductions in severity of behavioral and emotional symptoms. In similar programs, 83 percent of participants made a clinically significant improvement, with the most progress shown in the thirteen-to fourteen-year-old range, like Connor.”
“This is ridiculous!” Mr. Anderson declared. “So kids just go camping when they act out? Put on some ridiculous—” he squinted down at the paperwork “—talent show at the end?”
Connor’s eyes slid the man’s way, then back to her before dropping again. He looked interested. For once. Her hunch was right. This retreat could be good for him.
“It’s a showcase that allows the students to demonstrate their growth through personal and creative expression. While it looks like fun and games, trust me, it’s work,” Rebecca insisted. “Physically, mentally and emotionally. Connor deserves this last chance.” She glanced around the table, noting the softening expressions of her peers and a small, upward curve on Connor’s mouth. Aiden, however, looked ready to walk.
A muttering broke out and Rebecca’s stomach clenched. What if they turned this down? It was her last chance to prove her worth to the district.
“All in favor of him attending, please raise your hand.”
Four of the nine hands rose and then, with a shoulder shrug, the study hall teacher raised his palm, adding to the tally.
“This is outrageous.” Mr. Anderson half rose in his chair. “Can we at least have some oversight? Proof this has worked beyond Ms. Day’s report? Given her lack of tenure, I believe she should be held more accountable.”
Rebecca flushed, recalling that his wife served on the school board. Hadn’t she been elected president this year? No wonder he thought he could throw his weight around when it came to Rebecca. Her colleagues had been careful not to mention the board’s delay on her employment status after January, February, March, and then April meetings rolled past without her name on the agenda. To have it thrown in her face so publically was humiliating.
“We always do an Adirondack hiking trip in the summer, don’t we, Jim?” interjected the assistant principal. “We could stop by for the talent show—I mean the showcase—and see how everything’s going. Add our observations to Ms. Day’s report.”
Rebecca’s heart sank. Of course she didn’t have any intention of lying on her report about the success of the trip and her students, but now she’d have the superintendent himself looking over her shoulder. What if the kids didn’t perform well in the showcase? Demonstrate enough improvement to satisfy him? It took a professional eye, like hers, to see the value in even small gains. So much rode on the showcase now, when it’d been intended to be a low-pressure summative expression of their experience.
The superintendent rubbed the bald patch on his head. “Sounds like a good compromise. I agree then, that Connor will attend this retreat and—” he peered at the slouched teen until the boy met his eye “—we’ll revisit the expulsion decision based on Ms. Day’s report of your behavior while away, as well as my firsthand—” he raised an eyebrow at a frowning Mr. Anderson “—observation of student behavior and performance at the showcase. In the meantime, Connor will finish the school year at our off-site facility, where we expect exemplary behavior and attendance. Understood, young man?”
Connor jerked his chin in the barest of nods, then closed his eyes as though going to sleep.
“And when does this program start, Ms. Day?” The assistant principal tapped on her tablet drawing up a monthly schedule screen.
“We’d planned on the end of June.”
Mrs. Williams leaned close to Rebecca and whispered, “FYI, board members and staff—” her eyes swerved to Mr. Anderson “—are raising doubts about your tenure decision and plan to hold off on voting about it until the summer. If you don’t impress the superintendent, there’s a chance you might get denied and be let go.”
Something like a cold headache jabbed Rebecca between the eyebrows as she heard her suspicions confirmed.
“So we have to meet again during the summer,” Mr. LaValley noted, cheeks puffing. “Will we be paid for the extra hours?”
“Noncalendar hours are always compensated,” affirmed the superintendent, his tone abrupt, his expression impatient.
“And you agree with this plan, Mr. Walsh?” trumpeted the red-faced math teacher, Mr. Anderson.
Aiden nodded slowly, shifting in his seat. “I don’t see that I have a choice, though I doubt it’ll make a difference. He’d be better off put to work at the school than fishing and hiking.”
She raised an eyebrow, maintaining her professional facade while her insides twisted and crumpled. “Then it’s a good thing you’ll be there to witness it yourself.” Connor needed attention and she’d guarantee the kid would receive it.
Aiden blinked at her. “Come again?”
“As I believe your relationship with Connor is contributing to his behavioral problems, a condition of Connor attending the wilderness retreat is that you accompany him. You’ll be one of our chaperones.”
Aiden’s mouth worked and Rebecca didn’t bother holding back her small smile. “Consider it a mandatory request.”
* * *
AIDEN COULDN’T BELIEVE the woman he’d dreamed of last night, searched for this morning and thought of nonstop was at the meeting he’d dreaded. Worse, she offered his brother salvation, while simultaneously putting Aiden in the worst position possible. He had Mary Ann to pitch in and take care of the family, along with a neighbor who watched his mother during the weekdays, but he couldn’t just take off work. As it was, his weekly tallies barely kept them in the black. What would happen without him at the wheel? Especially with the tourist season starting to peak?
“Ms. Day?” he called as the faculty ambled out of the meeting room. “A word?”
The curvy woman turned in the doorway and her blue eyes studied him cautiously. Gone was the affable woman who’d disarmed him last night, replaced by a polished professional. Still, with Psycho Therapist emblazoned on her mug, and her crazy ideas for getting Connor in line, she didn’t fool Aiden. She might have the job title, but she didn’t have the skills. Not when it came to managing teenage boys.
“Yes?” She moved aside as the last of the educators exited, leaving him and a still-seated Connor alone.
“I’ll need to send my sister Mary Ann in my place.”
Instead of answering, Rebecca turned to his brother. “Connor, since you’re still not officially readmitted, please have a seat in the main office until Aiden comes for you.”
The youth shoved back his chair and paused as he passed her, his oversize Converse sneakers treading on one another. “I made this for you.” He pulled something from his backpack and shoved it into her hand, then stalked through the doorway without seeming to hear her thank-you.
“Origami,” Rebecca muttered, staring at the folded-paper dragon and shaking her head.
Aiden shared her surprise. When had his brother learned to do that? Aiden knew Connor had gotten into Anime and Manga. Had even asked about Tae Kwon Do classes—which Aiden couldn’t afford. Was this another part of his sudden curiosity in Japanese culture? Interesting...especially when so little caught apathetic Connor’s attention.
A bell shrilled and the sounds of shouting, screeching kids penetrated the room. Rebecca put her folder and the dragon on the table, crossed her arms and looked up at Aiden. “I’m sorry about last night. The combined effects of the muscle relaxers and NyQuil I’d taken made me groggy and I wasn’t myself.” She cleared her throat and shoved back her shoulders. “We didn’t meet under the best circumstances, but I hope we can put that behind us for Connor’s sake.”
He nodded. She was right. So why did he keep noticing how pretty she looked in her navy skirt and silky top? Time to focus. His brother was in trouble.
“I’m afraid having Mary Ann instead of you won’t work.”
“And why not?” he retorted, moving restlessly, as if life was about to spring another trap. “She’s Connor’s older sister. A per diem nurse who makes her own work schedule. It’d be handy to have a health care worker there.”
“We already have that covered. What I need is the source of Connor’s problem. You.”
“Me?” Aiden squelched his rising ire. “I work hard to make sure the kid has a roof over his head, food on the table and clothes on his back. What more does he need?”
“That’s for you to find out on this trip.”
An older woman appeared in the doorway. “Ms. Day, you’re needed down in the girls’ locker room. Caitlin, I mean, one of your students—is refusing to change or leave one of the stalls.”
“I’ll be right there,” Rebecca assured her, before turning back to Aiden. “You can contact me later today with any further questions. Otherwise, I’ll see you in a few weeks. Pack warm. The Adirondacks can get chilly at night. Even at that time of year.”
Casting an irritating smirk over her shoulder, she strode from the room, leaving him to stare at the empty space she’d occupied.
Aggravating. Infuriating. Stubborn woman.
Aiden hadn’t taken more than a day off in—he wasn’t even sure how many years. Even Mary Ann’s wedding had been held in the pub.
And the business would suffer without his vigilance. As a per diem nurse at an assisted living facility, his sister could take time off to work at the tavern, but the operation needed his oversight. They couldn’t afford even a bad week’s take, let alone two. Ms. Day’s crazy ideas were no longer simply affecting Connor. They threatened a livelihood he’d never asked for...but must make succeed, nonetheless.
CHAPTER THREE
EIGHT WEEKS LATER, Aiden polished off the last of his ham sandwiches and crumpled the paper bag. It nearly flew from his grip as the school bus jerked over another bump in the dirt road they’d turned onto a mile ago. After eight hours of sitting on cracked, stiff vinyl seats, his cell phone calls to his sister dropping before he could finish last-minute instructions, next to a tuned-out Connor huddled against the window, Aiden wanted the ride to the Adirondack camp to be over.
Yet the dense forest they’d plunged into an hour north of Albany seemed unending. Here and there yellow-green birches appeared among the deep green pines and rustling maples and oaks. Except for a sprinkling of wildflowers, the roadsides lacked the color bursting from street-side planters in his neighborhood. Summer must come late in Upstate New York. Despite it still being June, souring heat already gripped the city.
Here, the crisp air flowing through the window carried the scents of fir trees, wisps of hickory smoke and something fruity...berries. How long since he’d breathed anything beyond exhaust fumes? He studied the wilderness and the towering peaks that’d loomed into view not long ago. They were a different sort of skyscraper than he was used to and more impressive. No wonder this place had convinced his wandering forest ranger brother, Liam, to settle down. Of course his new fiancée, Vivie, had a lot to do with that, as well, Aiden mused.
Amazing that in just one year, his sister had married and two of his brothers, Liam and Niall, had gotten engaged. They had everything Aiden had worked hard for them to achieve: careers and partners of their choice. So why wasn’t he satisfied? When he’d taken over for his father, he’d made peace with letting go of his own aspirations. Yet watching his siblings exchange loving looks with their partners, their unimpeded futures opening before them, he felt a yearning take hold for something more...
But what else could he have? Handle? His life stretched him thin enough to break. While his parents had been in charge, their lives seemed secure and balanced. Now everything, from the struggling tavern, to his mother’s erratic health and now Connor’s possible expulsion from high school, fell short of his father’s standards. Especially Aiden. And according to Ms. Day, he’d also failed Connor.
Perhaps he should accept the financial help his siblings offered and not let his pride stop him from taking handouts. But he was also concerned that if he piled on obligations, they might struggle. He felt great satisfaction in seeing them achieve their dreams and didn’t want anything to get in their way. He just had to do better. Connor, too.
He glanced across the aisle to the bright-haired woman chatting amiably to a man who leaned far too close to her, in Aiden’s estimation. The guy’s loud laugh at each of Ms. Day’s comments grated. Was he here to help kids or hit on women? Their jovial antics set off a slow, steady burn in Aiden’s gut. This “intervention” was nothing but a vacation for the kids and the adults...all but him.