by Amy Woods
“Situations like his?” Paige asked. Had Liam met other children with something like Owen’s condition? In her years of teaching, she’d seen similar conditions a couple of times, but for those kids it had always passed as the school year went on and they made friends. For Owen, it didn’t seem to be improving despite six months of behavioral therapy. Even though Dr. Roberts knew the cause, he hadn’t yet been able to get Owen to talk to anyone besides his mother.
“Well, yes. I’ve seen it a few times actually. Both in my teaching experience and in…”
Liam was interrupted as Paige’s office door opened and a small, sandy-haired boy burst in, stopping just inside as his blue eyes shot back and forth between the two adults who had turned to stare at him.
“Well, hi there,” Liam said, smiling at the child.
“Hi, sweetie,” Paige said, unfreezing her limbs and rising quickly from her chair. “Come on in.”
“Mr. Campbell,” she said, “I think you’ve already met my son, Owen.”
Chapter Two
Paige took a deep breath, put a hand on her son’s shoulder and squeezed it gently.
“Owen, say hello to Mr. Campbell. He’s the new art teacher. You met this afternoon in class.”
Owen said nothing but looked up at Liam and reached out a small hand. He seemed to know instinctively that the adults had been talking about him, and Paige resisted the urge to reassure him that he wasn’t in trouble. It was important, the therapist had told her at their weekly meetings, to try to let Owen make his own decisions about interactions, to let him be uncomfortable at times, that the silence would at some point naturally urge him to speak. Paige had her doubts about that, but what else was there to do? If Dr. Roberts, who came highly recommended by people Paige trusted, couldn’t help Owen, then who could?
“Hi there, Owen,” said Liam. He offered a gentle grin and, rising from his chair, reached out to shake Owen’s suddenly trembling hand.
“That was some dragon you started this afternoon.” Liam’s eyebrows rose in admiration. The corner of Owen’s lips turned up, ever so slightly, at his new teacher’s compliment. “I’ve never seen such a great dragon before, and I can’t wait until it’s finished.”
Paige glanced at Liam over her son’s head as tender gratefulness filled her. Instead of pushing Owen to talk, or asking incessant questions despite the child’s silence, Liam simply treated him like a normal kid. Usually Owen was wary around new people, but somehow this man had caused her child to give a hint of a smile. But Paige told herself to stop thinking down that line. She should know by now not to wish for miracles for Owen.
Owen let go of Liam’s hand. He looked up at his mother as if asking her what he was supposed to do next, the familiar nervousness and desire to retreat into himself returning to his eyes. Paige squeezed his shoulder again and knelt down so she could look directly at him.
“Owen, why don’t you go out to see Emma and keep her company while I finish talking to Mr. Campbell? I won’t be long, and she has some new coloring books in her bottom drawer for you.” Owen’s shoulders relaxed with relief as he gripped the straps of his small red backpack. Paige put a hand on his back and nudged him out the door. She pressed the intercom and asked Emma to watch her son for a few moments.
Liam, still standing, lifted his hands, palms up. In his green eyes Paige saw the pity she found over and over in people’s faces when they discovered what Owen was going through. It never got any easier to stomach.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Liam asked.
A million conflicting emotions flooded through her. So he had noticed Owen’s silence, and seemed aware that it wasn’t just shyness or first-day nerves. Part of her admired Liam for that. A less observant teacher might have overlooked it completely, but this one had caught it on the first day in only an hour’s time. He must have more substance to him than his actions thus far had indicated.
On the other hand, she struggled to separate “mom” from “assistant principal,” though she knew she’d have to in order to talk about her son with his new teacher.
Paige shook her head and crossed her arms. The comfort she’d felt only a few moments ago vanished completely and she struggled for the right words to describe the complexity that was Owen’s selective mutism. Most people had trouble understanding how and why a child who had always been verbal could just stop talking, and their comments, though well meaning, could be hurtful.
“I would, actually—yes—but I don’t want you to treat Owen any differently from any other child just because he’s my son.”
Paige hesitated, alternating between feeling a desire to unburden herself and wanting Liam to take his sympathy and leave. “Mr. Campbell…”
“Liam,” he corrected.
“…Liam. It takes time for most teachers—and most people, for that matter—to even notice that Owen doesn’t speak to anyone but me. He tends to keep to himself and blend in. I admire that you were able to pick up on it so quickly. No doubt I judged you, and your teaching abilities, too quickly, but I’d appreciate if you’d think of Owen no more or less than any other child in your classes.”
“I get it,” he said, moving toward the door. “It’s the first day of school and it’s understandable.”
The kind concern left his eyes and for some reason he seemed to bristle at her words. His body visibly tensed, as though he felt insulted.
“I can assure you that Owen will receive no special treatment from me on account of who his mother is.”
Paige nodded. Each time she’d interacted with Liam, awkward tension seemed to arise, and she wished she could erase it. “But,” he said, the words lilting softly with his gentle West Texas drawl, “it’s mighty important to me that you know that my tardiness this morning will not be a regular thing, and I apologize. I’m very much looking forward to working with the kids and I want you to know that I take this job seriously.”
He hesitated as he watched her face closely, his green eyes searching hers. He took a step closer to her, and though he remained at a respectable distance, a strange shiver ran up Paige’s spine.
“And you can trust me,” he added
Despite his kindness toward Owen, Paige didn’t want to trust Liam Campbell. Even trustworthy men, like Mark, could be taken from you at the drop of a hat. She stepped forward and opened the door for him.
As he walked out, Liam met her eyes. Paige wondered if she would ever be able to look at him without her silly heart skipping over his incredible handsomeness. It would be pretty inconvenient if not.
“Listen,” he said. “About Owen…if you ever need to talk about what’s going on with him—strictly teacher to assistant principal, of course—I’d be glad to discuss it further with you. I have some experience in childhood therapy, and I’d be happy to share it with you.”
Paige shook her head. “That’s kind of you, but unless Owen has a problem in class or he’s not getting work done that he needs to, I think I’ve got it under control. He has a therapist who we’re both working with and, well, the man’s supposedly the best there is.”
But the best hadn’t been good enough to help her son so far. At what point was she going to admit that Owen might never speak to anyone besides her again? What if her nightmare came true and he caved further into himself and stopped speaking altogether, even to her? When would she be able to admit, to herself and to everyone else, that he just wasn’t getting better?
Paige didn’t want to think about that now.
“Okay, then,” said Liam. “I’ll let you know if anything comes up.”
“Thank you,” she said, trying to smile reassuringly. Most of the time there seemed enough of her to go around, but only just. Paige’s mother had raised Paige and her sister alone when their father had left. So Paige could manage, too. She’d have to, after the loss of Mark.
&nb
sp; She had to admit, though, that she was curious about what experience Liam might have with Owen’s disorder. On any other day, she would have allowed Liam to speak more about it. But right now, Paige wanted nothing more than to simply rest her muscles in a boiling hot bath, then curl up on the couch with Owen—and maybe a glass of red wine, which was an indulgence she rarely allowed herself, but one she could sure use today.
Paige collected Owen, agreeing to let him take home one of the coloring books that Emma kept for family conferences. Owen grabbed the book and his backpack, and they made their way out to Paige’s old blue pickup.
“Hey, Owen, want to stop at Barb’s for dinner?” she asked, as they stepped out of the air-conditioned school and the warm summer afternoon wrapped itself around them.
Owen’s blue eyes widened and he nodded his head vigorously at the name of their favorite diner. Once settled in the car, they headed toward Main Street, the August heat dancing in shimmery waves across the asphalt. They both averted their eyes when they passed their old house, which Paige and Owen had shared with Mark as a family. She tried to ignore the urge to pull into the driveway and settle back into her old life. As much as she might wish it, Mark would not be in the backyard, grilling burgers on his day off, or waiting in the kitchen for her with a glass of wine, ready to listen to her talk about her day at work. That life was gone now.
She and Owen had done their best to remain in the house for as long as possible after Mark’s death. Paige had been concerned that if they moved, any remaining stability that Owen had in his tumultuous life at that time would have vanished just like his father, so she’d kept the house and had kept Owen from knowing how tight the walls felt around her. She’d kept to herself how hard it was for her to live there. But eventually, to her relief, Owen had asked Paige if they could leave the house and she’d agreed.
The house was large and beautiful, almost as old as the town of Peach Leaf itself, and had been in Mark’s family for years. It had been a gift from his grandmother when she and Mark had married, and they’d accepted it with the starry, hopeful eyes of newlyweds before they’d realized what went into maintaining such a place. Paige had grown tired of cleaning it, refusing to hire a housekeeper for something she was perfectly capable of doing on her own, but it had been home, and they’d loved it like the family member it was.
At least until Mark’s death.
Paige could still recall the way her heart had dropped straight to the bottom of her chest that night. The doorbell had chimed as she’d finished clearing the dinner dishes and she’d opened it to find Fire Chief Garcia and one of Mark’s colleagues standing on her front porch. She’d barely been able to focus on the chief’s words as he’d gone over the details of the incident and Mark’s success at retrieving an infant, before he died of smoke inhalation.
She shuddered at the memory.
When she and Owen decided to move away from the house, she’d walked through each room, lingering for long moments to store the place in her memory. And now each time they passed, she wondered if they’d ever be free of their loss. If they would ever be able to rebuild as a family.
After dinner, which consisted of Barb’s incredible fried chicken and a dessert of homemade vanilla ice cream, made even sweeter by the red vinyl bar stools and black-and-white checkered tiles that Owen loved so much, they headed home, or at least what had passed for home for the past six months.
As Paige drove, Owen chatted about his first day, and her heart did an unwelcome little flip when he mentioned his new art teacher. It seemed Liam Campbell had occupied both their minds all day, whether she liked it or not.
They arrived home to their condo, which was just outside of town and close enough to work that when the weather was nice, they could bike to school together. Paige did the best she could to spend as much time as possible with her son. Though she often wondered if her career was too stressful at this time in her life, she enjoyed her position and especially loved being around the kids. It was a good job and it allowed Owen to have what he needed. She just wasn’t sure anymore what exactly it was that he did need, and, the longer he went without speaking to others, she was losing hope in her ability to provide it.
Her thoughts wandered again to Liam as she got ready for bed, and she tried not to dwell on his offer to discuss Owen. She didn’t need another person to make promises and offer new ideas or treatments. They’d all had enough, and it was getting to the point where Paige was beginning to accept that this was just going to be their life.
* * *
The next day at school, Paige avoided Liam. All they’d had was a simple, professional exchange…there was no need to deal with him any further today, unless something came up with Owen.
So why, then, could she not stop thinking about him? There was the part about him being incredibly good-looking. But what was it that kept him on her brain through her morning conferences, through phone calls with parents and through her break? Unfortunately, she had the teacher meeting at three that afternoon, just after school let out. She would have to be chatty with everyone, Liam included.
When Paige arrived at the assembly, the cafeteria was pulsing with teachers milling about, sharing stories from their summer just like the kids had the day before. Paige wondered if anyone else had heard the rumors swirling that Principal Matthews was thinking of retiring
There had been a time when Paige would have loved to take over the position, but after Mark’s death, when she’d suddenly turned into a single parent, she had put the thought of becoming principal out of her mind. Besides, she probably didn’t have enough experience to get Principal Matthews’s job, and there were plenty of teachers who had been working at the school far longer than she. Still, Paige couldn’t help mentally crossing her fingers on the off-chance that she had a shot.
Sure, it would be difficult. For one, it would mean even longer hours and less time with Owen. But, on the other hand, it would mean that Owen could get better care if it was available. Dr. Roberts regularly suggested an after-school therapy group of kids Owen’s age at their Wednesday meetings. Paige had been seriously considering it but adding more therapy was costly, and the additional hours were not covered by Owen’s medical insurance.
She found a seat at an empty table as the last of the staff began to file into the cafeteria. Paige had always struggled to socialize with her employees at gatherings like these, feeling as insecure as a student again. She was expected to behave a certain way as an assistant principal, and she should maintain a certain distance between herself and the faculty, although she’d spent years teaching with many of them.
Despite her position, Paige still considered them equals, and many of them would always be her friends. But she’d made the decision when she’d first accepted this position that it was better to remain distant from all of them at such events rather than to have anyone thinking that she favored certain individuals.
It was better to be alone.
* * *
The cafeteria was full of staff when Liam arrived that afternoon, but he didn’t recognize a single face. He really did need to make an effort to leave his classroom more and at least make an attempt to get out of his shell to make friends with his new colleagues. He and Callie had had a wide social circle in Abilene, and he missed getting together with friends. He guessed he would just have to make new ones…eventually.
Another unpleasant side effect of their painful divorce.
His eyes scanned the crowd for anyone he might have met, even briefly. He’d been hired late in the summer, but even in the few summer professional development days he’d attended, he had been too interested in learning the workings of a new environment to do more than share a few words with anyone.
Just as he decided to be the first to occupy one of the empty tables at the back, he caught the enchanting sunny glow of Paige’s headful of curls. Liam knew he was acting like
a damn fool as he gravitated toward her, but by the time he could do anything about it, she’d caught him coming and it was too late to turn around.
“Hi there,” he said, taking a seat on the opposite side of the table at the far end—where there was no way she’d get the wrong impression. He had no intention of bothering her. Plus, he didn’t think he could stand to hear her inform him yet again how little she needed his help.
In his career, he had seen many parents who wrestled with the idea of alternative therapy like the kind in which he specialized. Generally, he dealt with them at the stage in which they were open to such an idea. Paige wasn’t there yet, but against his better judgment, he was finding it awfully hard to resist the urge to persist and recommend that she bring Owen to his hospital sessions. He knew it was selfish, but helping Owen would inevitably equal more time with Paige, a thought that became more appealing each time he caught sight of her. He hadn’t wanted it, but he couldn’t ignore his growing attraction to the woman.
She greeted him with a tense smile, her eyes working to focus on him as though she’d been distracted.
“Hi, Mr. Campbell,” Paige said, moving quickly to pick up her pen. She busied herself flipping through the packet of papers in front of her.
Liam didn’t correct her this time. He’d figured out that she preferred the distance of last names when it came to addressing faculty. If he had to guess, it probably made her feel like less of the teacher she’d likely been before she moved to her current position and more like a boss. He’d had plenty of administrators like her in his time, but, for some reason, this one didn’t make him want to run in the other direction. In fact, she had the opposite effect, which he wasn’t keen to admit. He had no business circling the assistant principal like a bee to honey.
