Rise Up (A Coach's Love Book 3)

by Alison Mello

  He shrugs. “A little nervous.”

  “Do you still want to go?” I ask him.

  “Yeah.” He looks down, biting the inside of his cheek. “I want to talk to her. I have things I want to say.”

  “You’ve put some thought into this,” his grandfather says.

  “I have. It’s hard not to when you have kids at school constantly throwing your alcoholic mother in your face.” He sighs.

  “What?” I’m enraged. “You didn’t tell me you were being bullied at school.”

  He shrugs. “I was once the bully. Now I know how it feels, and it sucks.”

  “Ethan, even if you were once the bully, it doesn’t give kids the right to bully you back.” I can’t believe he didn’t come to me with this. We’ve been so open with one another it makes me worry about what else he isn’t telling me.

  “Have you told anyone?”

  “Yeah, my guidance counselor knows and is helping me deal with it. It’s not that big of a deal, Dad.”

  How can he say that? He is being bullied, and they’re calling his mother an alcoholic. Kids can be so damn insensitive. “Who is it?”

  “This kid Patrick. His mom and my mom used to work together.”

  My father-in-law laughs. “Shannon Perkins,” he says.

  “How do you know?” Ethan asks.

  “Because the woman has always despised your mother. She made a name for herself on a case they were supposed to be working together, but your mother was a bit more dedicated. Shannon always whined that she had a baby at home and couldn’t do it all, while your mother managed. I’m willing to bet she had no problem spilling your mother’s problem to her son so he could cause issues at school.”

  “So she’s a hater,” Ethan states flatly.

  “Pretty much,” his grandfather replies.

  Ethan picks his phone up and continues watching his shows while I drive. The ride is once again quiet, but the tension seems to have disappeared. My stomach is in knots, concerned over how this will go. I silently pray that she is in a good place today and doesn’t freak out on us or say something mean.

  We pull into the parking lot, but before we get out, I look in the rearview mirror. “Ready?” I ask my son.

  “Yeah.”

  I look at my father-in-law. “Are you sure she’s ready for this?”

  “She said she wanted to see him.”

  “Let’s go then.”

  When we get inside, we are asked to empty our pockets and remove our jackets. We need to walk through metal detectors to be sure we’re not sneaking anything in. This is more than just a rehab. It’s a correctional facility as well. There are a lot of rules that come with being here.

  “Judge Mackey, how are you today?”

  “I’m well. How’s Laney?”

  “Improving every day,” the gentleman behind the counter tells him.

  “This is my son-in-law, Vincent, and my grandson, Ethan.” He points us out to the gentleman behind the counter.

  “It’s nice to meet you.” He shakes our hands. “If you folks will follow me, I’ll take you to the visiting room.”

  We collect our belongings and follow the gentleman down a long hall. There are multiple rooms with random office names on them. We not once pass a patient’s room. I’m willing to bet they’re nowhere near the main entrance of the building. He brings us to a large room filled with people. “If you’ll have a seat here, I’ll bring Laney in.” We thank him, and he disappears.

  Ethan scans the room, looking at the various tables, people, and the little décor on the walls. “We’re not allowed to see where her room is,” Judge Mackey explains to us.

  “Makes sense.” They wouldn’t want someone figuring out their way around here. It would risk someone trying to sneak a patient out of the building. It appears to be heavily guarded, so it’s probably an extra precaution.

  It feels like it’s taking forever, but finally Laney comes in. She’s wearing a pair of navy-blue lounge pants and a shirt that matches. It’s the same attire as all the other patients here. She looks clean, but she lacks the makeup and shine she usually has. Her hair is brushed but flat instead of the full, luscious curls she usually spends so much time putting in. She takes a seat and slouches in her chair in a very un-Laney like way. She usually stands tall and proud with her head held high. It’s as if we’re looking at a totally different person.

  “Hi,” her father says to her.

  “Hey,” she replies, never making eye contact with her father.

  Ethan looks incredibly nervous, and I can’t blame him. She didn’t even greet him with a warm smile, never mind words. She approached us like this was forced on her, and she doesn’t want to be here.

  “How are you feeling?” I ask her.

  “Like you care,” she spits.

  “I care,” Ethan says sheepishly.

  She looks at him. “I’m tired, and I want to go home,” she replies, full of attitude.

  I exhale a calming breath. “Maybe we should let you rest then, and we can come back another day,” I tell her, not wanting Ethan to have to put up with this.

  “Whatever.” She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest.

  My father-in-law and I stand to walk away, but Ethan stays in his seat staring at her.

  “Grandpa said you wanted to talk to me, so why aren’t you talking?” Her eyes stay fixed on the floor. He gives her a minute, but she never replies. “Well, if you don’t really want to talk, then I’ll go, but I just wanted to tell you to rise up.” She looks at him confused. “It’s our saying. When things are hard, we rise up. We overcome them. It’s how we got past you leaving us.” He stands. “You can rise up too, Mom.” My heart breaks watching the interaction between my son and his mother.

  He starts to walk away but she calls out, “Ethan, wait.” She swallows hard, trying to speak past the lump in her throat. He walks over to her. “I’m sorry. I’m trying, but this isn’t easy.”

  “Neither was getting over you moving to New York, but I forgive you. Just like I forgive you for driving drunk.”

  I step up behind my son. “You need to forgive yourself, Laney.”

  “I could have killed us.” Her head drops into her hands as she breaks down into tears.

  “But you didn’t,” her father adds as he tries to console her.

  “I’ve screwed everything up. I wanted to be the best attorney I could be, and in doing that I was a shitty mother. Then when I thought I reached the top, I failed and fell flat on my face, making a fool of myself. Now, I’m locked up in this hellhole.” She waves her hand around. “I’ve hit rock bottom.” She continues to sob.

  “Do you know the best part of hitting rock bottom?” I ask her.

  She looks up at me with tears streaming down her face. “What?” She sniffles.

  “There’s only one way to go … up. Rise up, Laney, beat this,” I encourage her. She and I will never be, but I still don’t want to see her mess her life up. I want her to get past all of this so she can be a parent. She’s missing out on so many amazing things in Ethan’s life.

  She nods. “Thank you for bringing him here.”

  “It wasn’t easy to do,” I admit.

  “I’m sure. I have a lot to make up for, but I promise you both I will work on it.” Now is not the time to reiterate that we are through. It could put her in a worse place, so I let it go. I’ll let her down gently later when she’s more stable. For now, she needs strength in hope. For all I know, she may not even mean to insinuate she wants to fix us.

  “How long are you here?” Ethan asks her.

  “Sixty days. Then I can leave, but I’ll have to attend meetings. I’ll probably have to check in with some sort of probation officer,” she explains to him.

  “Will you stay here in West Virginia or go back to New York?”

  She sighs. “I honestly haven’t put much thought into it, but I have plenty of time to decide. If I can find a job here, I’ll probably stay here. I don’t
have much to go back to in New York.” She wipes her eyes.

  “You’ll be out in time for baseball season. Maybe you can come to some of my games,” Ethan suggests, hopeful his mother will start to support him.

  She smiles. “I’d like that.”

  Ethan wraps his mother in a hug. “I love you, Mom.”

  She wraps him in a hug breaking down all over again. “I love you too, Ethan.” They sit in their embrace for a few moments, but our time is almost up.

  Phillip places a hand on her shoulder. “We have to go.” We put our coats. “I’ll be by to check on you.” He hugs his daughter.

  “Thanks, Dad.” She looks at me awkwardly. “Will you bring him to see me again?”

  “As long as you promise to rise up,” I reply with a gentle smile.

  She nods. “I do.”

  “Okay, if we get a good report then we’ll bring him by again.”

  “Thank you.” She sniffles.

  “You’re welcome, Laney.”

  Ethan says bye, and the three of us leave. For the first time since the idea of this has been brought up, I feel good. I was in knots, and at first I really thought it was going to end bad. I’m proud of my son for speaking up and telling his mother what he had to say. It got her talking, and I’m willing to bet she feels a lot better now too. It’s thanks to his love and two simple words … Rise up!

  It’s been an incredibly busy morning at work. I’ve already had three meetings, and I have two more this afternoon. Everyone wants to meet to go over their finances for the year. Some are planning, some are getting ready to retire soon. Others are brand new to working with a financial advisor. It’s like the New Year’s resolutions bring people in who want to make better financial decisions. I’ve signed three new clients this week. I’m buried deep in work when my phone rings. “Vincent Wilder,” I answer the call.

  “Mr. Wilder? This is Mr. Evans, Ethan’s guidance counselor.”

  “Hello, Mr. Evans. What can I do for you?”

  “Ethan was sent to my office because he got into some trouble here at school today. I need you to come in as soon as possible so we can discuss what happened.”

  I’m totally confused. Ethan hasn’t gotten into any trouble for a while now. What could he have done? “What did he do? Is he okay?”

  “He’ll be fine, but I prefer to discuss it in person.” He pauses. “He’s here in my office and is not allowed to go back to class today.”

  “He’s being suspended?” I scream into the phone.

  “Just for today. He needs to cool down.” Mr. Evans tries to maintain a calming tone, but I’m angry, so it’s not working.

  “Wait, what do you mean he’ll be fine. Did he get hurt?”

  He sighs. “Mr. Wilder, Ethan was in a fight.”

  “I’m on my way.” I slam the phone down, not giving him a chance to reply further. I quickly email Amber that I need her in my office immediately. I then call Ellie and ask her to come in as well.

  Both women walk into my office at the same time a few moments later. Both looking extremely concerned.

  “What’s going on, Vincent? Your face is beet red,” Amber asks, her voice full of concern.

  I’m gathering work materials. “Ethan got into trouble at school today. I have to go pick him up. I need you two to work together to figure out if Paul can take my afternoon clients. If he can’t, then I need you to reschedule them for me, Ellie.”

  “Yes, sir.” She turns to leave my office. “Don’t worry, sir. We’ll handle everything.” Thank God we have two amazing assistants in this office.

  “Listen to me,” Amber says. I stop what I’m doing, take a deep breath, and look her in the eye. “Hear him out before you freak out on him.” She pauses. “Remember, there are two sides to every story.” She walks out of my office leaving me with those words swimming around in my head.

  She’s right. I need to approach him calmly so I can figure out what happened and then figure out consequences.

  I hurry over to the school. When I get there the lot is packed, so it takes me circling a few times before I find a spot. I hurry over and ring the bell to be let in. I explain to the secretary why I’m there. She prints me a badge and gives me directions to the guidance office. Mr. Evans greets me as I’m walking through the door. Ethan is sitting there with his eye red and puffy. “What happened?”

  “Step into my office.” He ushers me in and closes the door behind me. “Your son was in a fight with a boy named Patrick Perkins.”

  My brows shoot up. “The boy who’s been bullying him,” I state. “And my son is in trouble.” Now I’m beyond angry. My son has been coming to him with regards to this boy and the comments he’s been making about his mother, and they really believe Ethan started this? This is ridiculous.

  “Ethan was alone when it happened, but Patrick had his friends. They all say that Ethan started it. He started talking trash to Patrick. Patrick said some stuff back, and then Ethan hit him.”

  “So some boys stick up for their friend, and you instantly believe that to be the truth?”

  “Your son was on top of him with the other boys pulling him off when the fight was broken up by a teacher who heard the commotion. He is in worse shape than your son.”

  I get up from my chair. “I’ve heard enough from you.” I open the door. “Ethan, get in here.” Ethan comes in and takes a seat. “What happened?”

  “I had to go to the bathroom. My teacher gave me a pass, but when I got down the hall, Patrick and his friends came around the corner and circled me. They were pushing me around calling Mom a failure and an alcoholic.” His eyes go to the floor. “I told him he was a hater because my mom was a better lawyer than his.” He sighs. “That’s when he hit me, and we started fighting.” He shakes his head. “I swear, Dad. I didn’t start this. I’d never throw the first punch. I told Mr. Evans that, but all Patrick’s friends told him that I started it.”

  I look at Mr. Evans and then back at my son. “Go sit back out there for a minute, son.”

  “Yes, sir.” He leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

  “Are you out of your ever-loving mind? This boy trusted you. He came to you about being bullied, and the second it gets out of control you take the bully's side. You just gave them permission to keep doing it.” I stand from my seat. “What happened to the other boy?”

  “Nothing,” he states sheepishly, knowing it’s wrong.

  “Unfreaking real.”

  “Mr. Wilder, please understand. I had no choice.”

  I look over my shoulder. “There’s always a choice.” I pause. “When can my son come back to school?”

  “Tomorrow. We’re going to sit the boys down and have a talk with them. Both sets of parents need to be here.”

  I nod. “What time?”

  “Eight a.m. We want to get this settled first thing in the morning.”

  “We’ll be here.” I open the door and storm out of the office. “Let’s go, Ethan.”

  All the way out of the school Ethan is explaining how he didn’t start the fight. I know he’s begging for me to believe him, but I’m too angry to speak.

  When we get to the car, Ethan’s leg is bouncing a million miles an hour. He’s clearly angry that he has gotten in trouble for this. “Ethan, please calm down. I’m mad at the situation, not at you.”

  “I’m mad at me. I should have known better than to let them get to me like that.”

  “I thought you didn’t throw the first punch.”

  “I didn’t, but if I had kept my mouth shut...” He shakes his head.

  I chuckle. “They would have kept pushing you. It didn’t matter what you said or did. They were looking for a fight.”

  “So what do I do now?” he asks, clearly frustrated with the situation he’s in.

  “We go to the meeting tomorrow and resolve this once and for all.”

  We’re just getting into the house when my cell phone starts ringing. “Hello, Mr. Evans.”

  �
��When you were leaving the school, a student overheard you and Ethan talking about the fight. Ethan was explaining to you that he didn’t start it. Well, this student saw the fight and came to the office to explain that Ethan didn’t in fact start the fight. She told us he was trying to get away from them, but Patrick sucker punched him and that’s when Ethan lost it and started defending himself.”

  “So now what? You’ve sent my son home for no reason.” I’m beyond angry. First, they let a bully go after fighting my son, and now they’re telling me they screwed it up.

  “I’ll talk to the principal. We’ll fix it all in the morning.” He apologizes and cuts the call.

  “What’s up?” Ethan asks.

  I smile at my son. “Apparently someone did witness the fight, but they didn’t come forward until they heard you and I talking on the way out of the school. Mr. Evans is going to talk to your principal and rectify the situation in the morning during the meeting.”

  “That’s awesome, did he say who came forward?”

  I shake my head. “He didn’t, but that doesn’t really matter at this point. I’m just glad someone had your back.”

  “Me too.”

  Ethan and I arrive at the school by seven forty-five, but the other kid’s parents aren’t here yet. We’re sitting in a small waiting area until they arrive. It’s five till eight when this boy and his parents come into the office.

  His mother is about as snobby as Laney when she says, “Excuse me. I have a meeting to discuss that boy.” She points at my son.

  The father approaches me with his hand out. “Hi, I’m Trent.”

  I shake. “Vincent. It’s nice to meet you. This is my son, Ethan.”

  He nods. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “I’m sure you have,” I comment as the principal as well as Mr. Evans enter the room to escort us to a small conference room. Ethan and I are sitting on one side, Patrick’s family on the other, and Mr. Evans and Mr. Landers are on either end.

  “Okay, so apparently we have an issue between these two boys that needs to be resolved,” the principal announces.