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“I’m sorry to disturb you this evening,” she rushed breathlessly as if wanting to get the call over with as quickly as possible, “but I’m afraid I’ve underestimated the situation with Cory’s adjustment to school. Do you have time to meet with me this evening? If it’s not too inconvenient, at the coffee shop across the street from the clinic where I work?”
He gave a longing glance at his cooling dinner, but sat up straighter at the note of urgency in her voice. “I can do that.”
“Thank you.”
“Is everything...okay?” Dumb question. Of course it wasn’t or she wouldn’t be talking to him at the moment. It didn’t take a genius to figure out calling a cop for a favor—any cop—was clearly an act of desperation.
“It looks as if—” her words came softly in his ear “—I’ll be taking you up on your offer to spend time with Cory.”
* * *
“I got a call from the school early this afternoon.” Elise leaned forward in the coffee-shop booth next to a window, arms resting on the table as she took in the concerned countenance of the last man on earth she wanted to turn to for help. “He’s been suspended for two days. For fighting. And not just fighting, but for starting the fights.”
Grayson frowned. “Fights. As in plural.”
“Yes.” Could he hear the shame in her words? Know how hard she fought to keep her lips from trembling?
“The first time when playing cops and robbers during recess and he didn’t get picked to be a cop. A relatively minor scuffle. But later in the day there was an altercation in the lunchroom. Cory was showing a classmate a picture of his dad in uniform and an older boy made a comment about Duke not being too bright if he stood there and let someone shoot him.” She took a steadying breath. “I guess that was all it took. Cory bloodied his nose. Another kid joined in and the next thing you know—”
“You’ve got a brawl.”
“Yes.”
“Was Cory hurt?”
Her lips tightened. “Minor scrapes. Bruises. The other boys the same. Nothing of a serious nature...but enough to get him suspended.”
“Were the other boys suspended, too?” To her relief, he sounded as if he was in Cory’s corner, making sure he hadn’t been singled out for punishment.
“One day. Cory got two because both times he threw the first punch.”
Gray let out a gust of breath. “He must have been pushed to the max. My gut instinct is that Cory isn’t a violent-natured kid.”
So did that mean he was willing to help Cory?
She toyed with the coffee mug in front of her. She hadn’t taken a single sip. Grayson’s mug, likewise, sat neglected.
“I spent the afternoon in the school counselor’s office.”
“Does Cory understand the ramifications of what he did? That you had to miss work?”
“I explained that I have to take those hours off without pay or use vacation time that I could have otherwise spent doing something fun with him.”
“And he apologized?”
“To me? Yes. And to his principal and the lunchroom monitor.” She leaned back in the booth seat, recalling the humiliation of the meeting in the counselor’s office. “A couple of the other boys have been in trouble before. Their parents shrugged the whole thing off when I made him apologize to them. It was almost as if they were proud their kids held their own in a fight that warranted a suspension. But I’m ashamed.”
“You weren’t the one who landed a punch.”
“No, but I should have been more alert to how deeply the loss of his father has impacted him. It’s been several months since he’s cried about anything, no matter how upset. Even today, not a single tear. He’d seemed to be adjusting. Did well in kindergarten, but now...”
“Sounds like the other boys know what buttons to push.”
She solemnly traced a finger along the rim of the coffee mug. “Unfortunately.”
“So what do you have in mind? For Cory and me, I mean.”
A young, dark-haired waitress paused at their table and the conversation momentarily halted. The teenager appeared surprised that neither had touched their aromatic brew, but discreetly departed without comment.
Elise pushed her coffee aside. “Miss Gilbert and Mrs. Clifton, his counselor, suggested I take you up on your offer to spend time with him. To see if a responsible male can instill positive reinforcement before—” she paused, then forced the words “—before we seek professional help. I don’t have the financial means for a psychologist, and my insurance doesn’t cover that type of thing. Of course, I’ll do whatever it takes to help Cory, take out a loan if necessary, but—”
“Elise.” Grayson rested a palm on the table, his expression earnest. “When Miss Gilbert approached me about entering the mentoring program, I was dead set against it. I’m not a trained counselor. I’m not even involved in the youth programs at church. I’m not qualified to handle a situation like this.”
“But you offered.” Why did she have to sound so desperate? So needy? What was she doing here begging this man for assistance?’
“I know I did, but—”
“But that was before he turned—” she almost choked on the word “—violent.”
The flattened hand on the table fisted. “Decking a kid who was asking for it is unfortunate. There’s a definite anger control issue coming into play. But Cory isn’t, in my estimation, turning violent.”
She let out a soft sigh of relief. “When you made the offer last night, you must have thought you could help.”
Gray grimaced. “It’s a long story which I won’t go into, but I know of a situation... I learned over the weekend how growing up without a father can affect someone.”
The recently discovered brother and sister he’d mentioned earlier?
“So you see,” he continued, “I’d come back home with my Superman cape on, thinking I could make a difference for Cory by bringing him the hat and hanging out with him. But I’m not educationally qualified for something like this.”
“You need a degree to hang out with a six-year-old? Play games? Help with homework? Just talk?”
“No, but—”
She leaned forward, swallowing her pride as she appealed on her son’s behalf. “He admires you. Looks up to you. Maybe he’ll open up and tell you why he’s angry with the world.”
Grayson tapped a finger on the table, his frank gaze meeting hers. “I can already tell you why he’s angry with the world.”
He knew? It was so simple and she’d missed it?
“Why?”
“Because the world he trusted betrayed him. Turned itself upside down. Took his dad away from him and probably took you away from him in a number of ways as well.”
There had to be more to it than that. A reason why his anger was coming out now instead of in kindergarten. She quietly studied him, then took a stab in the dark. “For someone who isn’t degreed in kid psych, you seem sure of your assessment. Personal experience?”
He glanced away to stare out the window, beyond his own reflection, at the passing traffic headlights penetrating the last dregs of twilight. “I didn’t lose my father, but my mom died in a car accident when I was seven.”
“I’m sorry.” She shouldn’t have probed into his painful past. “That had to have been difficult.”
“It was a long time ago.”
“But you still remember.” She sensed it. Suspected it might play a role in his final decision on Cory’s behalf. “You weren’t much older than Cory. Maybe you can make him understand what’s going on down deep inside.”
“Maybe. But it sounds as if he needs someone to step in immediately, before things escalate.” He paused, his expression grave. “I don’t know what it entails for training and all, but it could easily take a month or more for me to get approved for the school’s mentoring program.”
“Then we don’t go through the mentoring program.”
Something she couldn’t decipher flickered through his eyes.
His words came carefully. “It’s a standard—and wise—practice to conduct a background check. Which could take—”
“I did my own background check.” She met his intent gaze with a challenging one of her own. “I contacted an old buddy of my husband’s who contacted someone in your division. You passed with flying colors.”
A brow quirked. “You didn’t waste any time.”
Did he approve? Disapprove? It didn’t matter. She’d done what she had to do. “I’ve already wasted too much time because I didn’t see this coming. Cory is too important to me to wait for weeks to go through official school district channels.”
“I’m still not—”
“Please? A few nights a week? Even a single hour this weekend?”
“I’ll be out of town this weekend.” He must have seen the disappointment in her eyes, for he cleared his throat and continued. “But I’m taking a few days off. Tomorrow and Wednesday.”
“I can’t impose on your vacation.”
“Personal business, not a true vacation. But I might have time available later in the afternoon.”
She could tell by the still-uncertain look that he had lingering concerns, but she pressed for a firm commitment. “So you will spend time with him? See if he’ll open up to you?”
He settled back in the booth, his eyes locked on hers. “I’ll give it a shot. Tomorrow? Three-thirty?”
Impulsively she reached across the table to grasp his hand, an unexpected bolt of awareness darting through her as skin touched skin. “Thank you.”
He gazed at their clasped hands a long moment, then back at her. “You’ll tell Cory I’m coming?”
She hesitated. It might not be a good idea to get her son’s hopes up. What if it didn’t work out for him to come after all?
Grayson shifted, turning his hand in hers to give it a reassuring squeeze. “You can tell him, Elise. I promise I won’t be a no-show.”
Relieved, she self-consciously withdrew her hand. Took a calming breath. “I’ve arranged for him to stay all day with his after-school sitter, Billie Jean. She lives in a ground-floor apartment directly below mine. I’ll let her know you’re coming.”
“Don’t expect any miracles, okay?” Grayson frowned as he massaged his injured shoulder. “We’ll hang out. Get to know each other. But you’ve got to be prepared that he could change his mind about me. May not want anything to do with me. Or it could backfire entirely—ramp up his anger or what you call his cop obsession.”
“That’s a risk I have to take, isn’t it?” She reluctantly drew her eyes from his too-magnetic gaze and stood, noting uneasily that the sky had fully darkened. “I have to go. I left Cory with Billie Jean. But I can’t thank you enough, Mr. Wallace...Grayson.”
She quickly turned away, hurried out the door and onto the street. Filling her lungs with the still-warm night air, she offered a silent word of thanks.
God was answering her tear-filled prayers.
But what was she getting Cory and herself into, allowing another police officer into their lives?
Chapter Five
What did he know about what went on in a little kid’s head?
Gray stared at himself in the bathroom mirror Tuesday morning as he readied himself for the day. Wallace, you may be known for having a cool, clear head on the job, but you’re not even thinking straight.
He’d agreed to spend one-on-one time with Cory. But how much of his decision was based on the hopeful glow in Elise’s eyes last night at the coffee shop? The grateful sincerity in her voice touched a chord deep within. Had he agreed to help because he thought he could make a difference for Cory—or because it would be an excuse to spend time with the boy’s mother?
He had to come up with something he could do with the kid. He couldn’t sit across the table and interrogate him to get to the heart of his anger issues. Trying to force a confession for an easily resolved happily-ever-after would be bound to fail.
With his bum shoulder he couldn’t even play catch like he used to do with Jenna’s boy. What do you say to a kid whose dad died? And violently at that. People meant well enough when his own mom was killed on that long-ago, stormy night, but “your mother is in heaven” hadn’t done a whole lot for him. It only served to upset his dad when his oldest child wakened in the night crying and begging God to return her.
After that, he didn’t cry. Not in front of his father. Not in front of anyone. Is that why Cory didn’t cry? He didn’t want to upset his mother? Maybe he kept it all bottled up inside and when the opportunity came to unleash it in physical form—like knocking some smart aleck’s block off—it wasn’t worth the effort to try to restrain himself.
With a shake of his head, Gray reached for the razor. He had all morning and into the afternoon to decide what to do with Cory. Today he had to make headway on the search for his father, so he couldn’t devote a lot of time obsessing about the boy’s situation. Maybe God would have mercy on him and the kid would flatly tell his pretty mom he didn’t want to see Officer Wallace today. Or ever.
* * *
Elise eased up on the gas pedal. She’d been keyed up all day wondering how things would go between Grayson and Cory during their hour together. What they would do. What they would talk about. Was this a wrong choice on her part? Would it appear to Cory he was being rewarded for yesterday’s misbehavior?
At twenty till six, she rounded the final corner and pulled up in front of the apartment house behind a now-familiar silver SUV. Grayson was still here? Yes. Sitting on the concrete porch talking to a rapt Cory.
She’d no more than stepped out of her vehicle when a diminutive Volkswagen pulled in behind her, the logo of a popular pizzeria adorning its roof. A teenage boy dashed by her, carrying a paper bag and large flat box. Grayson rose to pull out his wallet as Cory welcomed the pizza with open arms. By the teen’s euphoric smile, she imagined the tip made the delivery worthwhile.
As the pizza guy jogged back to his car, she approached the twosome again seated on the concrete porch steps, checking out the contents of the box. Cory looked up, grin widening.
“Mom! Officer Wallace bought us pizza! My favorite, pepperoni. And part ham and pineapple, your favorite!”
“What’s the occasion of this celebratory feast?” She turned an inquiring eye on Grayson who was casually dressed in jeans, tennis shoes and a gray zippered sweatshirt, looking even more handsome than he had last night. She hoped the pizza didn’t mean she had to invite him in, though. She hadn’t cleaned up the breakfast dishes before dashing off to work this morning. The bathroom and kitchen were in need of a deep cleaning, too. Why couldn’t she keep up with the simplest of chores?
“Cory said he hadn’t had pizza in a while and I realized I hadn’t either, so we decided to give the cook a break tonight.”
She glanced at her son, hoping the reality wasn’t that he’d begged his new friend for takeout. Mother and son might have a generic frozen pizza when on sale, but rarely a fresh, popular pizzeria variety. So this was a treat for both of them. “Thank you. What a nice welcome home.”
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