“Oh, man, not fair,” the older one, Nick, said. “We barely had a sip.”
“Drinking any alcohol underage is an illegal act,” she said, “and you can be sure the police would jump right on it, especially in a program like this. Don’t you know that delinquent behavior threatens the whole program?”
“What are you going to do to us?” the younger of the two boys asked, his voice shaky.
Corbin slipped in to stand beside Samantha, wondering if she’d consider it an intrusion. “You’re handling everything well,” he murmured to her. And then, louder, “Just wanted to see if you needed any help.”
She gave him a grateful smile. “I guess you noticed that Nick and Eric, here, have been drinking”
“Couldn’t miss it.” He glared at them.
“Eric wanted to know what we’re going to do to them. Any ideas?”
He thought a minute. “Since we’re not technically in charge of the program,” he said, “I suggest we talk to Gabby and Reese. They’ll know all the rules and what should be done.”
The older boy, Nick, looked relieved; young Eric looked more scared.
Samantha nodded agreement with the plan, and then someone called, “Pizza’s here,” from the main part of the barn. Corbin went out to pay for it, waving aside the money Samantha pulled from her purse. He figured it was the least he could do.
Once he had opened all the boxes on the long table and they had said a quick prayer, he let everyone fill a paper plate and grab a soda. They started to go off to various parts of the barn in small groups, but Samantha clapped her hands.
“It’s break time, but I want you all here at the tables. Sit down.” She looked at the two who had been drinking, crooked a finger to beckon them over, and pointed at the table. “You, too. Get some food and then sit down.”
“Are you sure you can handle this?” Corbin asked her quietly. “I can talk to them.” Though he had no idea what to say. “Or I can call Gabby right now.”
“I got it,” she said grimly. “Believe it or not, I have some experience dealing with drunks. Enforcing, and reinforcing, rules and reminding them how to be smart.”
The boys being boys, they scarfed down the pizza fairly quickly, and Samantha didn’t start talking until everyone had gotten at least some food into their bellies. Which was a good move, Corbin thought. They couldn’t talk back if their mouths were full, and they’d be more reasonable if they’d eaten something.
“Most of you already know that people were drinking here today,” Samantha said. That surprised Corbin. He hadn’t expected her to be so blunt.
“Aw, we weren’t really drinking,” Nick said.
“Uh-uh,” she said, shaking her head. “You can’t kid a kidder, and you can’t out-lie an alcoholic.”
“Who’s the alcoholic?” Eric asked.
She looked around, making eye contact with the boys one at a time. “I am,” she said.
Suddenly, all the boys were silent.
She sat down on a high stool at one end of the table, a piece of pizza in her hand. “Yep, I have a drinking problem. So I don’t drink. And guess where it started?”
“At a bar,” Nick said, grinning, and a couple of the other boys laughed.
“Nope. It started with me sneaking outside during high school with some other kids who wanted to get wasted, too.” She took a bite of pizza and wiped her mouth. “Just like you guys, it seemed like harmless fun to me. But it wasn’t.”
“Did you get in trouble?” one of the younger boys asked, and Corbin wondered how much she’d tell them.
“I did get in some trouble, messed up some classes in school,” she said. “But I didn’t take it seriously.” She paused. “Until I had to.”
“When did you have to?” one of the older boys, Wolf, asked. “Did you hit bottom? My dad did.”
She nodded. “I did hit bottom. I lost...” She paused, and Corbin held his breath. “I lost people who were important to me. Ruined some things that really mattered.” She bit her lip and put down her pizza slice half-eaten. “I’m going to be going to meetings and being careful the rest of my life. That could be you, too.” And here she pinned the two offenders with a steely glare. “Or you could decide that you’re not going to take another drink until you’re of legal age and can think it all through, make a smart decision.”
“I won’t,” Eric, the younger boy, said immediately.
Samantha shook her head. “I’m glad, but I’m not asking you to make any kind of commitment now. Just giving you something to think about. Promise me you will?” Eric nodded, and after a minute, Nick did, too. And then she looked around at all the other boys. “You, too. You need to be smart about alcohol, because it can really bite you. It’s not just something funny.”
She went on talking for a few more minutes, answering questions, self-possessed and honest. Her connection with the boys was solid and sincere.
Obviously, she was committed to staying away from alcohol.
Corbin knew that wasn’t completely to be trusted, that a recovering alcoholic was always at risk. He’d learned that at his mother’s knee. But Samantha might be different because she knew the dangers, acknowledged them to herself.
Samantha stood up and brushed crumbs off her jeans. “Now we have a lot to get done and it’s important to me and to Rescue Haven, but anyone who doesn’t want to stay can call your folks and go. Do it now, because if you stay, you’re working hard. And anyone else who breaks the rules—well, you’re done.”
The murmurs he heard now were of wanting to stay. The boys seemed recommitted to the float and the parade; indeed, they hurried over to finish the float right now.
As for Corbin, he sat watching Samantha as she talked to them and supervised their work, and an overwhelming feeling of admiration and caring came over him.
Yes, she had a drinking problem, but she admitted it, was doing something about it. Maybe that was good enough for him.
Maybe he should do something about his feelings for Samantha.
In fact, there was no maybe about it. He was going to talk to her, see how she’d feel about going out on a real date, figure out how to manage the fact that she was working for him and living in the same house. Not tonight, since they’d be working so late, but tomorrow, right after the Memorial Day parade.
Chapter Fourteen
The next day, Saturday, they arrived early at the parade grounds to set up, get organized, get ready. Samantha couldn’t help focusing on the high stakes of the float to her personally, even as she directed boys and dressed dogs and chatted with their parade neighbors.
She kept scanning for Mrs. Markowski, but so far, there had been no sightings. She thought the woman would love the new float, made much simpler and classier along the lines of the one she’d designed for Brock in his senior parade. But she couldn’t feel sure. She’d thought the previous float was good, too.
It was looking around at the townspeople getting ready for the parade that finally made her relax. There was Sheniqua, participating in a medical display that encouraged people to stop by for free blood pressure and cholesterol tests. Hannah was helping her mother to put the finishing touches on her cupcake stand, which seemed to already be doing a brisk business. Reese was chatting with some veterans who weren’t able to march in the parade; they were all riding together on a military float.
She heard a discordant sound, the high school band tuning up, and looked ahead in the parade line to see a small but enthusiastic group of young musicians and a few majorettes. Small towns like Bethlehem Springs didn’t have the ability to choose only the crème de la crème for the band and sports team; they encouraged everyone to participate. Even Samantha had had a brief run as a majorette, and when she’d quit, several teachers had sat her down and questioned her, encouraged her to stay involved in something positive. She hadn’t listened, but she’d appreciated t
he effort.
People cared here. And that was what she wanted, for herself and those she loved, going forward.
Corbin stood talking to some of the Rescue Haven boys, holding Mikey firmly by the hand. Corbin. He’d looked at her with such intensity last night and again this morning. And he’d said he wanted to talk to her after the parade. She didn’t know what that was about, but he’d assured her it wasn’t something bad.
Maybe he wanted to get closer with her. That was the vibe she got, and the notion made butterflies flap wildly in her chest. Was it possible that she and Corbin could have something, build something?
But if anything along those lines were to happen, she’d have to tell him the truth. She still quailed at the thought, but he did seem a lot warmer and more understanding lately.
If telling him the truth would give her even a little bit of a chance at a relationship, at an ongoing family connection with him and Mikey, she’d do it. Plus, she remembered uneasily, she’d made a bargain with God while hunting for Mikey, promising that she’d tell Corbin the truth.
She should have done it before now. It wasn’t right to postpone fulfilling your commitment to the heavenly Father.
She felt a tiny hand in hers. “’Mantha?”
It was Mikey, and she rested a hand on his shoulder, loving his cute little face. “Are you ready to get on the float with Corbin? You’re going to be way up high.”
“Weady,” Mikey said, his voice solemn, eyes wide.
“I’m still not sure why you think we should be in the place of honor.” Corbin stood beside her, his nearness setting her nerves afire. “Shouldn’t we feature boys from the shelter?”
“But the float is about trying to find homes for some of our dogs.” That had been the turning point in the revision of the float: figuring out a purpose bigger than just advertising Rescue Haven. “You’re the success story, because you adopted Boomer. Half the town knows that he stayed with Mikey when he ran away. Besides, Boomer looks adorable in his stars-and-stripes ruff.”
“I guess.” He picked up Mikey, gestured to the teenager who’d been holding Boomer’s leash and climbed easily to the top level of the float. Samantha beckoned to the other boys, and they all took their places, dogs beside them. Samantha took a seat in the back, mostly out of sight. The float wasn’t about her.
Behind them, a group of veterans were getting organized into their formation, carrying flags and a sign telling people to remember the reason for the holiday. After that group, a couple of giant tractors gunned their motors. Next was a line of antique cars, something of an obsession with the older men in town.
Bringing up the rear was a fire truck, and even though the parade hadn’t started moving, its occupants were already showering the spectators with candy. Kids ran and dove for it, shrieking their delight, while parents and grandparents looked on, smiling from the folding chairs they’d set up early, curbside. This was a town where everyone wanted a front row seat to cheer their kids and friends along.
Samantha saw that she wasn’t the only one with the idea of dressing up dogs. Several of the spectators had brought costumed pets, most decked out in red, white and blue. For that matter, most of the spectators wore patriotic colors, too.
The high school band began to march and play up ahead, sounding very respectable now. Along the sidewalks, proud parents snapped pictures: of the band, the flag team and then the scouts.
Suddenly it was their turn to start moving, and Mrs. Markowski was nowhere in sight. “Here goes,” Samantha thought, her heart racing as she gave the signal to start.
The oohs and aahs of the crowd were gratifying. They’d put the smallest dogs at the bottom, held carefully by some of the younger boys. Both the boys and the dogs got bigger in size on the higher platforms. And at the top were Corbin, Mikey and Boomer.
She heard people calling questions out to the boys on the float, asking whether this dog or that one was available for adoption. The boys were ready: they held out informational signs about each dog: how old they were, any issues they had and their breed, if known. “Available for Adoption!” proclaimed the headings on each sign, and large lettering at the front of the float repeated the message.
Large, tasteful lettering, per Mrs. Markowski’s preferences. Samantha could only hope it was classic and classy enough to meet her approval.
When the float driving the older veterans reached the center of town, the entire parade stopped, and spectators shushed each other. The band played taps as a white-haired man wearing a World War II veteran cap, whom Samantha recognized as the grandfather of one of her classmates, put a wreath on the statue. He took two steps back, bowed his head for a moment, and then saluted.
There was utter silence, and Samantha wasn’t the only one wiping tears. Another veteran gave a short speech about what Memorial Day was really about, not the veterans so much as the soldiers who had given the ultimate sacrifice: their lives. It was serious and moving.
As more people stood up to speak, Samantha got a little nervous wondering how the boys and dogs would manage the lack of action. But the boys were quiet and respectful, and they kept the dogs in line. Even Mikey kept his cool, thanks partly to the candy Corbin kept handing him. Once, Samantha met Corbin’s eyes and shook her head, fighting a grin. They’d pay for Mikey’s excessive sugar consumption later.
After the speeches were over, all the veterans saluted the statue again. Then the crowd burst into applause, and the band moved into a rousing rendition of “God Bless the USA,” and the parade started up again.
And there was Mrs. Markowski, standing in the midst of a group of her friends. Thankfully, at least Samantha hoped, the parade wasn’t up to full speed yet, giving the women a chance to study the work they’d done.
Heart in her throat, Samantha leaned out from her perch at the back of the float. “What do you think, Mrs. Markowski?” she asked as they drew up alongside her. “Do you like it any better than the design I showed you before?”
Mrs. Markowski studied the float for a minute longer, and Samantha held her breath. And then the older woman smiled, nodded her head and looked at Samantha. “It’s very pretty,” she said, “and one of the classiest in the parade.”
One of her friends, similarly dressed in elegant clothing, studied the float and nodded. “Very nice, dear,” she said.
“I have to admit you were right,” she said to Mrs. Markowski. “Your ideas are what took it above and beyond. That, and the work of all the Rescue Haven boys.”
Mrs. Markowski smiled at Samantha before turning to speak more with her friends.
And Samantha dared to hope that the older woman would be pleased enough to recommend her to develop the program for younger kids at Rescue Haven.
Mikey must have heard her talking, and he struggled to get down from Corbin’s lap and come to her. Since the parade had come to a halt again, she went over and got him and then sat down on the edge of one of the platforms, pulling him into her lap. As she cuddled him against her chest, her heart filled. She loved him so very much.
She really, really wanted to keep mothering him.
“’Mantha,” Mikey murmured sleepily, “will you be my mommy?”
His high voice was loud enough for several of the women around Mrs. Markowski to hear, and there were smiles all around. Samantha just rubbed Mikey’s back and didn’t answer. She couldn’t be his mommy, not really...but oh, how she wanted to.
Her heart was full as she looked around at the Rescue Haven boys, and her friends and the townspeople. She felt like she had a role in this town. Maybe, just maybe, she could stay.
The parade started up again, so Samantha carried Mikey back up to Corbin.
“It’s going well,” he said, smiling at her. “I heard what Mrs. Markowski said to you.”
“I know. I’m so relieved. I hope it means what I think it means.”
“I’m
not at all surprised. You worked really hard on this project. And you had the foresight to redo it, even though it was a lot of extra work.” His eyes were warm with approval and she couldn’t seem to look away.
As she climbed down from the top of the float after leaving Mikey with Corbin, Samantha noticed a small crowd gathering on the edge of the village green. Was someone lying on the ground? It was hard to see, so she climbed back up a few steps to where she could see past others. Yes, someone was definitely down.
Wondering if there was something she could do to help, she shaded her eyes against the sun and watched the drama unfold.
And then her heart stopped.
Among those gathered was Cheryl. She was talking and gesticulating and pointing at the person on the ground. The group of people around them parted a little and Samantha could see the person lying in the grass.
Cheryl’s husband. He must have collapsed. And it looked like Cheryl was panicking. Samantha hopped down from the float and hurried over. Cheryl was a stranger in town and might not know how to get the help she needed.
“What’s wrong?” It was Gabby, coming up beside her.
“Could you go make sure the boys on the float are okay?” She was peering past the small circle of onlookers to see how Paul was doing. She could hear Cheryl speaking, her voice high and shaky, nearing hysteria.
“Of course.” Gabby went back over to the float. She knew the boys well and was basically familiar with their plan. She would do fine.
Samantha made her way through the little crowd and reached Cheryl. “What’s going on?” she asked, putting her arm gently around the woman. Paul lay unconscious, and a woman who seemed to know what she was doing was loosening his collar and taking his pulse.
“He just collapsed,” Cheryl’s voice was tight, panicked. She clutched Samantha’s arm as if it were a lifeline. “I know I shouldn’t have brought him, but he wanted to see Mikey. I’m afraid—” her voice broke “—and he’s afraid, it could be the last time.”
Child on His Doorstep (Rescue Haven) Page 14
