First Comes Love

by Heather Heyford

  That second glass of wine probably helped, too.

  When the enormous silver casserole dish was empty, the kids were set free to run on the manicured lawn and the women went inside to put the finishing touches on the ritual cake and presents.

  Shay remained at the table with the men.

  “Don’t you want to go play with your cousins?” asked her grandfather.

  “Nah. Too babyish.”

  The judge pushed back his director’s chair from the table, revealing a comfortable paunch, and crossed one leg. “Why don’t you run inside and see if your mother and your grandmother need any help.”

  “They told me to stay out here so it’ll be a surprise,” she countered, thumbing her cell phone.

  For a few awkward moments, the only sound was the shouting of the youngsters in the background. Alex fingered the fringe on his cloth napkin, left behind when Paige had swooped his plate away. The bond between him and Shay had grown even stronger since he’d started spending time at the farmhouse. When they’d arrived at the party, Shay made it clear to everyone within hearing that she wanted Coach Walker to sit next to her. Her wish had been granted, ostensibly because it was her birthday. Now, she peered up at him. “Do I have to?”

  The air thickened while the O’Hearn men waited for Alex’s response.

  He tossed his head toward the house. “Do as your grandfather said.”

  She got up slowly, rolling her eyes. “Oh-kaaay.”

  When she was gone, four pairs of eyes regarded him evenly.

  “Why do I feel like I’m here to take Kerry to the prom, and any second one of you is going to set a thirty-aught-six across your knee and start cleaning it?”

  “Now, what in the world would make you think that?” asked the judge, brushing a crumb off the table.

  “Kerry told me about her past. That I’m her third cop.”

  “We have nothing against cops, per se,” said Ryan mildly.

  “Just the ones that hurt our sister,” said Marcus, fiddling with his dinner knife.

  “I have no intentions of hurting her.”

  “Just what are your intentions, if you don’t mind me asking?” asked the judge.

  Had someone turned back the calendar a hundred years when Alex wasn’t looking? Whatever the future had in store for him and Kerry, this night would set the tone with her family. He bit back the urge to tell them his feelings for her had nothing to do with his profession. “Right now, we’re just getting to know each other. Enjoying each other’s company.”

  “Kerry can’t afford to be recusing herself from cases on a regular basis.”

  After the second time they had made love, Kerry had handed the Lewandusky case over to Ryan. What Ryan said was true. Right now, she was still living off the income from the embezzlement case, but that wouldn’t last forever.

  “I know how significant that was.” He might not be a lawyer, but he was neither stupid nor insensitive.

  “That’s exactly why I retired early,” added the judge. “The county only has four municipal judges. Given that two of my offspring followed me into the practice of law, my being one of them would have muddled up the system like a feather in a whirlwind.”

  “I’m not the only cop in town. Last I counted, there were twenty of us making arrests. That leaves plenty of opportunities for Kerry.”

  “It’s not just Kerry,” said Marcus. “Those kids of hers have been through the wringer. Last thing they need’s another ‘Walkaway Joe.’ ”

  “Walkaway Joe”? Alex’s hands clamped down on the arms of his chair. But he’d barely risen from his seat when the others looked toward the house, smiling broadly at the approach of their women singing the birthday song.

  Out in the yard, the kids’ ears perked up, and seeing thirteen candles ablaze in the twilight, they came racing back, joining the others in song.

  “ ‘Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Shay, happy birthday to you. And many more . . .’”

  “Make a wish,” said Kerry.

  Shay looked at Alex, eyes sparkling. Then she unleashed a lungful on her candles.

  “You got them all on the first try!” exclaimed Chloé. “That means your wish’ll come true. What did you wish for?”

  Shay reached her arm around Alex as far as it would go.

  “Don’t tell—” Kerry started to say, but too late.

  “I wished Coach Alex would be part of our family.”

  “Awesome!” yelled Chloé, bouncing on her chair.

  Alex thought his heart might burst. He returned Shay’s side hug, but she was already intent on her grandmother’s pearl-handled knife sinking into the soft cake, depositing the first slice onto her plate.

  There, beneath the pergola, Alex watched the firelit faces of the other kids gathered around, jockeying for their own piece. Kerry and the girls were squarely on his side. But where the men were concerned, he still had a ways to go.

  He rubbed his beard. Some things never changed. Who did he think he was, to believe for one night that he would fit into this exclusive bunch?

  Would he ever truly belong anywhere?

  Chapter Thirty

  Alex was leaving the hardware store with a brown paper bag containing a replacement bulb for the light in Kerry’s porch ceiling when, across a side street in an alley, he saw a kid standing on a box peering into a dumpster while another kept watch.

  He jogged across the street as the lookout anxiously tugged a warning on the hem of the dumpster diver’s shorts.

  “Travis?” exclaimed Alex. The boys were supposed to be safely ensconced in a foster home.

  Travis hung his head. He was barefoot. His feet were filthy and there were dark circles under his eyes.

  Alex knelt before Travis, uncomprehending. “What are you doing here?”

  Hearing Alex’s voice, Tyler’s head appeared from inside the dumpster, his eyes like two holes burned in a sheet.

  For the first time since he’d been going to Kerry’s house, Alex got that old, burning sensation in his chest.

  “What’s going on? Tell me! Why are you—” He searched up and down the alley for a clue that would explain away the dread that was creeping over him—“here?”

  He reached for Tyler’s hand and helped him off the cardboard box. “Where’s your shirt?”

  He pointed to Travis’s feet and scowled with disapproval. “What happened to your shoes?” As if Travis liked going around barefoot on the hot August pavement.

  When Travis finally met Alex’s eyes his dirt-streaked face crumpled. Instead of running, as Alex was conditioned to expect, Travis stunned him by throwing his puny arms around Alex’s legs and sobbing without making a sound, as if his tears were all dried up and there was nothing left inside.

  Alex automatically shielded the boy’s back, his shoulder blades sharp beneath his fingers.

  “Please don’t make us go back,” pleaded Tyler.

  Rage bubbled up in Alex’s throat, threatening to boil over.

  But first, the boys.

  He swept up Travis, his skeletal build bringing to mind the hollow bones of a sparrow, took Tyler by the wrist, and turned toward his car.

  Tyler yanked free of Alex’s grip and stood his ground. “Are you going to make us go back?” The very prospect threatened to collapse his brave yet fragile façade . . . the façade he put on for his brother’s sake. It was the gesture of a much older boy, and it redoubled Alex’s determination to do right by them.

  “No,” he ground out. “You have my word.”

  Still, Tyler vacillated, his face mirroring his uncertainty.

  When he finally took a step forward, relief washed over Alex.

  He drove straight back to the taco place and ordered the same dishes he had seen Kerry get for her girls. Then he sat across from the boys and watched with some small satisfaction until they’d eaten their fill, while silently, he chewed half a roll of TUMS and weighed his options.

  At least Tyler’s cavity
had been taken care of.

  This was his fault. He was the one responsible for putting the Pelletier boys into evil hands. If he’d never picked them up in the first place, they might still be underfed, but at least they would still be in their intact family, their home.

  There was only one thing to do. He would probably get an official reprimand; a permanent mark on his record that would make it impossible for him to get another job in law enforcement. Maybe even get fired and have to resort to making a living as a laborer. But none of that mattered in the light of the injustices that had been done to two lost boys.

  * * *

  “You have to call CPS. There’s no getting around it,” said Kerry over the phone.

  Alex paced his back patio in the dark. Travis and Tyler had bathed and were sleeping soundly in his own bed, relegating Alex to the couch.

  “I won’t allow them to go back to foster care. I promised them, Ker. They trust me. I’m the only one they trust.”

  “There’s evidence of physical abuse?”

  “Could be just from living on the streets, but I would be surprised if they hadn’t been pushed around.”

  “You’ve got to have them checked out by a doctor.”

  “They’ve already been through all that.”

  “That was when they were with their natural parents. Now that they’ve been in a foster home, they need to be reexamined.”

  “It seems so . . . punitive for the victims. Why do they need to go through all that again? They’re just kids, Ker.”

  “That’s the way it is. You know that. You must. All those years on the force?”

  He knew. He just didn’t want to hear it. Because now it was personal.

  “Let me put it another way. If the foster parents have committed a crime, don’t you want evidence so you can prosecute?”

  Abuse fell squarely under Alex’s purview of Crimes Against Persons. But at the moment, he cared more about the boys—his boys—getting a decent night’s sleep. “I can’t call CPS tonight.”

  “You have to, Alex. The longer you wait, the more trouble you’re going to be in. The fosters may have already reported them missing.”

  “If there was a missing child report, I’d be the first one to know.”

  She considered that. “The longer they wait, the worse they’re going to look, so it’s probably just a matter of time,” she said. “You don’t have rights to them. I know you’re a loving, caring person. I’ve seen it in the way you act around my kids. But as much as you might care about them, those boys don’t belong to you. They’re not yours.”

  Alex gazed up at the stars. There was something he was dying to tell Kerry. Something he had never told anyone. He began to pace again, clenching the phone in his fist, then halted.

  “I’ve always wanted kids.”

  There was a long pause.

  Finally, in that supremely confident voice that had first made him notice her, she said, “Even more reason to do this right.”

  She supported him. She believed in him.

  His heart soared. Suddenly, anything was possible.

  “All right. I’ll call them.”

  “Call me back then. I’ll wait up.”

  Heart thudding against his chest, he punched in the number for CPS and asked for Olivia Bartoli.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chief Garrett wasn’t gung ho on the idea of Alex fostering the Pelletier boys, even after he heard the parents had fled town.

  “It’s a blatant conflict of interest. Your job is to go after the offenders, not succor the victims. Let CPS do it. That’s what they’re there for.”

  “The Pelletiers were charged with a misdemeanor for neglect and fined. Granger can take over the case against the foster parents, assuming there is one.”

  Chief swiveled his chair back and forth, tapping the armrests with his fingertips. “What do you know about being a parent?”

  “I’ll learn. I know good parenting when I see it.” By now, everyone in town knew he and Kerry were dating.

  “The judge and I go way back,” said Chief. “I know for a fact Kerry had a solid upbringing. And her oldest has definitely taken a shine to you.”

  Chief had been to the boxing exhibit at the pool. He had seen the special bond that had developed between Alex and Shay.

  “All three of Kerry’s kids are great.”

  “I distinctly recall a day last spring when you sat right there in that chair and told me all you wanted was peace and quiet.”

  “That was then. This is now.”

  “You’re about to go from recluse to family man with a stroke of a pen.” Behind his desk, Chief studied the form he held between his hands. “Are you sure?”

  “Never been surer of anything in my life.”

  Alex needed just one more signature. His toes curled inside his boots.

  “Who’s going to watch them while you’re at work till school starts, and then after school?”

  “The day care at the Community Center.”

  After another endless pause, Chief sighed and scribbled his name, then tossed his pen and thrust the paper across his desk to Alex. “Good luck.”

  But the chief’s apprehensions had got to him. By the time he got to Livvie’s office to deliver what was left of his paperwork, he was thinking about everything the chief had said, and thinking that maybe he was right.

  “How are you?” asked Livvie, once they were behind her closed office door.

  Alex opened his arms. “Look at me. Do I look like a daddy to you?”

  She laughed, eyeing him up and down. “In my experience, no two dads have ever looked alike. The question is, do you want to be one?”

  He tried to swallow, but the sides of his throat stuck together.

  Livvie went to a minifridge in the corner and pulled out two bottles. “Tell me what it is you’re most concerned about.”

  He cracked open his water and downed half of it in one swig. “Do you have kids?”

  She looked at her hands, devoid of jewelry. “I haven’t been so blessed. But I try to look on the bright side. In my line of work, it’s nice to be able to go home to my peaceful apartment and sit down and have a quiet glass of wine.”

  “What am I doing? What if one of them gets sick? Falls off his bike and breaks his arm . . . his femur? What happens if—down the road—some girl breaks his heart?”

  Livvie perched on the edge of her desk. “If they get sick, you’ll take them to the doctor. As far as the broken heart, the best I can tell you is just to be there, in the good times and the bad. That’s all kids like Travis and Tyler want. Not money. Not a big house. Just someone who cares about them. Someone they can depend on, no matter what. A feeling of belonging is as basic a human need as food and shelter.”

  Alex set down his empty bottle and ran a hand across his head. “Maybe I should give this some more thought.”

  “You treated my brother like a person instead of an outcast. And I’ve seen your concern for those boys from the get-go. You’re going to be fine. Will there be problems from time to time? Absolutely. You’ll handle them as they come up.

  “As for the approval, you passed the basic requirements with flying colors. You already had the background check under your belt. When it comes to your references . . . I mean, the chief of police? Come on.” She grinned and waved the long white envelope Alex had handed her.

  “I was able to expedite your approval, but be forewarned that someone will be out to check that you’ve installed separate beds for the boys in the second bedroom, as the law requires.”

  There went his home office.

  “And later on, to confirm that you’ve completed the training series.”

  “I chose the online option. No sitter required.”

  “Okay. Other questions?”

  “What are the Pelletiers chances for regaining custody?”

  She sighed. “As I told you back when all this started, the system is geared toward family reunification. After they complete th
e assigned counseling sessions and psychological evaluations, CPS will take another look at the Pelletiers’ parenting capabilities, the possibility of repetition of the pattern of neglect, and the degree of the boys’ emotional attachment to their parents. Assuming they pass the psych evals and comply with the ruling, the children will most likely be returned to them.”

  “And if they don’t?”

  “At that point, the children typically remain in foster care for another six months.”

  Alex sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “Then what?”

  “The kids’ welfare is paramount. Research shows that in most cases, reunification is usually best. After six months to a year—again, depending on all those factors I told you about—the court can proceed with terminating the parents’ rights, making the children eligible for adoption.”

  Livvie hesitated. “Off the record? I would caution you to maintain your perspective through all this. Expect pushback. Especially from people like the Pelletiers, who can afford good lawyers.” She gave him a meaningful look. “After all. They have their reputations to protect.”

  She went behind her desk, took her seat, and neatly slit Alex’s envelope open. “I’ve informed the judge that this is a special case and he’s agreed the boys can remain where they are while you’re taking the classes.”

  “Thanks, Livvie. This wouldn’t have happened without you.”

  Livvie looked at him straight on as she inserted the chief’s recommendation into a thick yellow packet. “Remember what I said. You’re going to have good days and bad days. Just like any family.”

  Alex held out his hand. Just give me the papers. By now he was itching to take possession of the packet with his name on it.

  Finally, she extended the envelope to him. “Congratulations, Officer Walker. You’re a foster dad.”

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Kerry and Alex lounged at a table in the shade of an umbrella at the Community Pool, studying their respective broods.

  No sooner did Tyler jump off the board than he climbed out and got right back in the continuously circulating line of kids to dive again.