Mismatched

by Chautona Havig

  The unflappable, placid Allison settled back into place. “I think that’s wise. Will you make yourself available? I mean, will you be where they can see you sometimes?”

  “I guess I can. Maybe. I don’t know. I’m not opposed to it or anything.”

  She sighed. “I guess I’m being pushy, but I see so much potential. I think you’d have amazing influence on them if you did and it makes me a little driven to do… something. These kids are just so...”

  “I know. And I’ll do it too, really. If it helps keep someone from doing something stupid like joining a criminal organization, I’m all for it.”

  Allison shifted awkwardly. “Do you think your scars help or hinder your influence?”

  “I don’t know that they make a definite difference either way. I think it depends upon the person. I think for a lot of guys it garners some respect. They see what happens when you stand for what you think is right— assuming they realize that’s why I did it. Girls, maybe the sympathy vote.”

  “Hmm... I guess that makes sense. I can see the mama bear side of girls coming out—wanting to protect and nurture. Well, for the nurturing kinds of girls. I doubt Emma Jorges would put on her maternal mantle.”

  “Maternal mantle?” Leo snickered. As he watched her, a new question formed. “Allison?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Are my scars a problem for you?”

  “Not a problem really, but...”

  “What?” He frowned. “Um, don’t panic. I’m not going to whip off my shirt. I’m not in a ridiculous teen drool movie.”

  She jumped from the couch, leaving Leo dumbstruck. What had he said? Seconds later, when she began arranging asparagus on a second foil pan, he relaxed again. The chicken emerged smelling so good that his stomach growled in anticipation. She slid the other pan into the oven and turned to him. “I want to see them again. I need to. I need to understand what they did to you and why. It will make things easier for me in some respects. We still have several more Q&A sessions and they’ll go better if I don’t have to fight falling apart each time.”

  Leo stood and crossed the room, leaning on the divider between the living room and kitchen. “Let’s not ruin dinner with it. It’s enough to turn anyone’s stomach.”

  He lay against the couch with his feet propped up on an upside-down laundry basket and his eyes closed. “That was the best meal I’ve eaten in months... maybe years.”

  Allison shifted on the other side of the couch. “I love a good chicken.”

  “What are you doing with the pot on the stove?”

  “Boiling the bones. It’ll make a good broth and you can have chicken soup on the weekends. Just chop up some carrot, onion, and celery and add noodles or rice half an hour before it’s done and voila. Instant soup that a ten-year-old could make.”

  “Are you insinuating that I have the mental capacity of a ten-year-old?”

  “No,” she hedged. “I was just trying to prove that I wasn’t asking you to become a culinary student.”

  Leo cleared his throat. “We have to talk about something.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “I know, but we still have to. I can’t be in a relationship. I can’t even have people speculating— and they are.”

  “Who?”

  “Your students...”

  Even Allison had to concede his point when she remembered some of the things the boys had said. “I know we talked about this before and you said—” She swallowed and stared at her hands. “I just have to ask anyway.”

  “Okay…”

  “Is it me?”

  “Not at all.” How could he explain without sounding melodramatic? Leo grinned inwardly. Melodramatic. That wasn’t a word he was used to hearing much less thinking. “You’ve seen what happens when you cross the Kasimirs.”

  “Do you really think they’ll come looking for you?”

  “I don’t know,” he felt forced to admit. “I mean on the one hand, I doubt it, but it’s just a bad idea to risk…” Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t say it. He knew all too well what would happen if they were found together. He’d heard things, things he hadn’t believed to be true until that day in the police interrogation room.

  She sighed. “If you weren’t ex-Kasimir?”

  It seemed cruel to say it, but Leo decided it would be even crueler not to. “I’d ask you out right now.”

  Allison stood, smiling, and went to strain the broth. “That’s something. I’ll take it.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The office door opened as Leo let himself into the shop. He nodded at Adric and went straight to the restroom to change into his uniform again. Well, I gotta thank You for him being on the phone, Lord. I’ve got to get it together, he prayed as he unbuttoned his shirt.

  The little mirror over the sink was just old and distorted enough to make him look even more hideous. He raised his eyes to the glass, resisting the urge to ignore his reflection, and stared. Becoming complacent would only get himself or someone else killed—someone like Allison. Revolting. He could think of no other word for it. Revolting.

  Work shirt buttoned and jeans exchanged for uniform pants, he tucked in the shirt and stared at his reflection. Wade and Tyler mocked him sometimes about that shirt-tucking thing, but for Leo it was a reminder. You’re respectable now. Look it while you’re at work. He thought it looked stupid, but when the rest of you looks like a gang banger from Rockland, a tucked in shirt reassures the middle class conservatives who walk into the shop that maybe you won’t drive off with their ailing auto.

  As he stepped out of the door, Adric called to him. “How’d it go, Leo?”

  “Fine. I think this might be the first class that kind of got it the first time. There were a few kids in there that I’ve talked to around town. They backed me up.”

  “You’ve been talking to a lot of kids lately. Joe says you’re doing for them in weeks what he’s struggled to do since he’s been here.”

  “Without that, they probably wouldn’t even listen. Joe’s a good guy.”

  In the bays, Leo stared at a brake job with distaste. After a nice rebuild, brakes seemed so mundane. “Could be worse; could be a lube,” he muttered under his breath as he reached for the new brake pads.

  The shop rocked and swung to the varying rhythms of country music. Lee Brice’s “Love Like Crazy” nearly drove him wild. Common sense—did he have any? His past choices seemed to indicate he didn’t. Overuse I love you? How? He didn’t have anyone to love—not if he kept his wits about him. Jesus. Overusing I love you with Jesus. That’d grow his relationship with the Lord in ways he had only dreamed of—wouldn’t it? He grinned at “prayin’ knees.” He had those now—sort of.

  “Leo?”

  He jumped. Lost in the song, he hadn’t noticed Adric’s approach. “Huh?”

  “I never thought I’d see the day you were humming along to country.”

  “It’s a bit catchy,” he admitted.

  “It’s a good song, and I don’t like country at all. Get someone like Harry to sing it, and it might be just about perfect.”

  “He’s not the end-all, Adric. How can you stand to listen to only one man sing? What about a woman?”

  “I listen to more than Harry. Jael got me that Michael Bublé CD. He’s ok. I don’t care much for women’s voices. I like to hear Jael sing around the house, though. Does that count?”

  “It’ll have to.”

  Adric stared at him for a few seconds. “Allison sings—well, along with the radio or a CD.”

  “What—” Leo put down the brake pads and wiped his hands on a towel. “Are you nuts? What does that have to do with anything?”

  “I just thought you might be curious but not be willing to ask.”

  “Well, I’m not.” Guilt hit him. “That’s not quite true. I’m not in a position to be curious is more like it.”

  “You could be.” Adric held up his hands and spoke before Leo could respond. “Hey, I spoke to the chief—�
��

  Anger welled in Leo. “Who is a nice man, a good ol’ boy, but he’s not realistic about the risks. Who was in the gang? Who was in charge of evading men like Chief Varney? Come on, Adric. You didn’t choose her, but you can’t possibly think that little of Allison. Do you want me to put one of ‘your girls’ in jeopardy just to assuage your guilt?”

  “My guilt?” Adric stared at him. “I chose correctly, Leo. Allison didn’t want me anymore than I wanted her. Should I have settled for both of us just so someone could choose her? Why not leave her for a man like you?”

  “Because a man like me will get her killed!”

  Silence seemed to fill the shop. It was an awkward silence—one filled with the twang of “Mama, He’s Crazy,” the blast of the monster-sized fan that sounded more like a turbine engine than a breeze creator, and the occasional shuffle of feet. Even so, a sort of silence crept around them—expectant.

  At last, Adric leaned forward, his hands resting on the quarter panel of Leo’s project and asked, “Is this truly about her safety or about some misguided idea that your past disqualifies you as a part of her future.”

  “How long did it take you to come up with that one?”

  Grinning, Adric shrugged. “Not long. I’ve been thinking about it for weeks. Jael asked me that last night, so for me, it was instantaneous, so to speak.”

  “If by it you mean that you think I’ve got some weird complex about being not good enough for her—” he stopped midsentence, frowning. “Well, I guess I don’t think I am, but that wouldn’t stop me. What guy is good enough for any girl worth noticing?” Before Adric could answer, he added. “Look, I’m not suffering from an inferiority complex. Like I told her the other night, if I didn’t have the possibility of retaliation over my head, I’d have asked her out already. I know a good thing when I see it. I don’t want to lose her, but if I want what’s best for her, I’m kind of stuck.”

  “You should be in Witness Protection.”

  “Well, I’m not. And then again, why should I be? Why should me telling on a bunch of criminals absolve me from the consequences of my own criminal actions?” Leo blinked, his forehead furrowed. “Did I just say that?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I didn’t know I was so… what’s the word when you say things right?”

  “Eloquent.”

  “Yeah, that one. I didn’t know I was so eloquent.”

  Adric pushed away from the car and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “You know you just killed the eloquence with that…”

  With a shrug as he reached for the brake pads again, Leo quipped, “Yeah, well, I’ve got a reputation you know…”

  Allison led him across the crowded room. With the last day of school a mere three days away, he thought his “talks” had ended, but Allison had urged him—nagged him really—to attend the parent-teacher reception with her. Leo’s eyes scanned the room, trying to judge the reaction to his presence. The white shirt felt strange—the tie, stranger. The Dockers she’d bought had been stuffed back in the bag in Allison’s backseat. He’d stepped out of the bathroom and erupted in laughter with her. Dockers and Leo—no mix. With jeans and his work boots, he felt half-normal.

  Several parents avoided eye contact, but one woman squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and strode across the room. Leo, watching from the moment she spied him, braced himself for a verbal attack. She approached with the gentle subtlety of a charging bull and stopped short, just two feet separating them.

  “Leo Hasaert?”

  “Yes…”

  “I want to thank you. You’ve done something—I don’t know what it is—but you have. My son, Kevin came home from that basketball game a different boy—well, not different. He’s the kid he used to be. He’s talking about law school now.”

  “I doubt I had much to do with it,” Leo hedged.

  “I know you did. I wasn’t very happy when Chief Varney invited you here. I thought you’d start some kind of drug ring and lead our boys into a life of crime.” She shook her head. “I sound ridiculous, but I really thought it.”

  “Well, honestly, I don’t blame you. I can’t be surprised when people expect me to be what I was. I understand that. The kids—they didn’t. They didn’t get that there are consequences for actions that don’t just go away if you say, ‘sorry.’”

  The woman nodded. “I guess. I just really appreciate it.”

  She started to walk away, but Leo touched her arm, prepared for her to wince. She didn’t. “Mrs…”

  “CeCe. CeCe St. James.”

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  Leo tried for that delicate balance between utter gratitude and nonchalance. “For telling me. I know a lot of moms and dads are probably uncomfortable with me here, but you came and said hello. I appreciate it.”

  The woman didn’t speak. She saw a friend across the room and waved, but her response was eloquent. You’re welcome. It felt good.

  Within seconds, CeCe St. James dragged her friend to his side and introduced her. All evening, he had little chance to catch his breath. CeCe, Allison, and Principal Alderman spent most of their time introducing him to nearly every person there. One man stood alone in the corner of the room, watching him with a disdainful eye. Leo flip-flopped between avoiding him and resisting the urge to challenge him. Aside from that, it seemed as if the general antagonism of the town might be gone, and that alone made his appearance worth it.

  As Principal Alderman praised the Q&A sessions, recommending similar ones for other things, Leo felt the man’s glare boring holes into his back. He leaned and whispered to Allison, “What is with the guy in the gray suit—the one who looks like a stock photo for a driven business man?”

  Allison didn’t answer. For several seconds, Leo debated asking again, but at last, she glanced around the room, her eyes barely skimming the area where the man stood, and then brought them to the front again. Another half a minute passed before she whispered, “That’s Ross St. James—CeCe’s husband.”

  “He’s not happy to have me here.”

  “Who cares? Almost everyone here has figured out that you’re not out to recruit their kids into the Kasimirs.”

  A round of applause jolted him back to the presentation. His next glance toward Ross earned him a glower that rivaled the worst he’d seen anywhere. Ross St. James was not a Leo fan.

  Once dismissed, Leo stood and tried to slip from the room. Tired, hungry, and in need of the misery of jogging to turn off his brain, he wanted nothing but to get home, get his reading done, and eat. Unfortunately, Ross met him at the door.

  “Stay away from my boy, you hear me?”

  “Certainly.”

  “Wha—”

  “Ross, leave him alone. He’s been good for Kevin.”

  “Shut up, CeCe. He may have fooled this roomful of idiots, but I see through him. Stay away.”

  “Happy to. Good night.”

  “Wait, Leo.” CeCe hurried after him. “Ross doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

  “CeCe!” Ross’ voice thundered across the room.

  His wife ignored him. She grabbed Leo’s arm and said, “Don’t let him stop you. What you’re doing is so important. You’re making a difference in the lives of these kids.”

  In the time it took her to say those three sentences, Ross reached her side and pushed his way between his wife and Leo. “Get out of here and stay away from my wife. Leave my son alone. I am warning you—”

  “You’re warning him about what, Mr. St. James. I’d like to have it for my records. Threatening someone with bodily harm is a crime you know. It’s my job to record this stuff.” Principal Alderman stood with cellphone in hand, ready to type in his exact words and send it to the police station.

  Leo, however, turned and left without a word. Allison started to follow, but the principal held her back. “Let him go. He’s behaving much better than Ross, and everyone will remember that.”

  The apartment was da
rk—almost black. Only one small light from the streetlamp shone into the room, but Leo didn’t see it. Eyes closed, he lay on his back, his arm over them, praying. His tie lay in a small pool beside the couch where he’d tossed it, his shirt unbuttoned. Only the faint whirr of the oscillating fan broke the silence of the room.

  With his tooth pulsating with impending pain, Leo tried to focus on his “hour of prayer.” The first minutes had been easy. With his mind on the St. James family, he’d prayed for their family dynamics and for harmony in the home in the coming days. Though simple, he meant each word he murmured as he lay there remembering. “Hold his tongue; give him compassion for his son. Please don’t let them argue—especially not in front of Kevin.”

  From there he’d prayed for each of the boys he’d spoken to in the past weeks. For some he prayed they’d make good decisions—for others, good influences. For Raavi, still antagonistic about Christianity, Leo prayed that someone would say something that would show the boy his need for Jesus.

  As he found his mind wandering from his prayers, he switched to speaking aloud. It happened every night, much to his disgust. “Well, here we go again. I’ve got to say it out loud or I can’t concentrate. I feel like a little kid with ADD—that PADD thing again, I suppose. I hate to switch to me so quickly, but this tooth is killing me. I can’t afford to get it fixed, and I can’t afford not to. What do I do?” He chuckled. “Hmm you know, Tom told me that I just needed to go to the Bible when I needed answers about what to do, but I don’t know what the Bible would say about this. I mean, is there a ‘if your tooth hurts and you have over this amount in the bank, get it fixed, otherwise, suck it up until you’ve got the money?’ I don’t think so.’”

  As usual, near the end of his prayer time, Leo’s thoughts turned to Allison. Ever since he’d met her, he had tried to keep his prayers simple and focused on blessing her whenever she came to mind, but this time he allowed himself to pour his heart out to the Lord. He finished by saying, “Just help her understand. She shouldn’t suffer because of my stupid decisions. There’s got to be some man out there not too blind to see how great she is.”