by Amy Woods
“Which I’ve done,” she said, rubbing her temples, her forehead creased. “Is that wrong?”
“No,” Liam said. He wanted desperately to wrap his arms around her and tell her that he could tell she was a good parent and that what her son was going through wasn’t her fault. “It’s not wrong to ask. It’s just that Owen may not have the language to answer that question or the ability to articulate clearly what’s causing his body and mind to react the way they are.”
Paige’s eyebrows knit in concentration. Liam knew this was a lot for her to take, and he wondered why Owen’s therapist hadn’t made a better effort to help her understand. Perhaps she’d never felt comfortable enough to ask. No one could blame her for trusting a professional, and he’d bet Paige had hired the best doctor she could find. The psychologist had probably tried everything he could think of to help Owen.
But now the boy needed something different, and there was nothing wrong with that.
He vowed then and there to help Paige and Owen no matter what it cost or how much she resisted. He knew his therapy group would help Owen, but he had to find some way to get her on the same page.
“I guess I just thought all this time that at some point, somehow, it would just go away,” Paige said, leaning against the doorway. “I thought that it was a phase.”
She hesitated before continuing.
“After his father died, he was so quiet. I thought he just needed more time than the rest of us—Mark’s family and me—to process it all. Mark’s death was fairly traumatic—he was a firefighter and he was killed in a work-related incident. It was hard on me, for sure, but Owen lost a parent. I had no idea how he was feeling and it killed me that he wouldn’t talk about it. And even though he still talks with me, he doesn’t mention his father. It’s like he’s trying to erase what happened. He doesn’t talk to Dr. Roberts or me about his dad—ever. And it took weeks after Mark died for Owen to start speaking to me again, so when he finally did, I just didn’t push it. I let him lead the way.”
The sadness in her eyes shook shards of glass out of a part of his broken heart he’d been certain he’d lost when Callie had left him—a part he wasn’t sure he was ready to have opened and exposed again.
“We used to talk about everything, him and me. I miss my little boy. But sometimes a part of me just wants to tell him to snap out of it and stop all of this…craziness.”
The second the word popped out of her mouth, a look of sorrowful guilt shrouded Paige’s face.
She looked at Owen then, and Liam could see how the distance between the two of them hurt her. He dealt with this all the time, but it never got any easier to see that kind of pain between a parent and a child.
Yet, Owen had just taken a step, however small, toward getting better and being able to communicate again.
There was hope; that’s what they needed to focus on now.
“I’ll tell you what,” Liam said, moving into Paige’s line of vision to catch her attention. He took her forearms in his hands and held them there so he’d have her full concentration. “You, Assistant Principal Graham, need a break this weekend. And possibly a drink?” he asked, checking her eyes for a smile.
She grinned up at him and then closed her eyes, letting out a weary sigh she’d probably been holding in all day.
“I suppose you’re right. A break, yes—a drink, maybe.” They both laughed. Liam squeezed her arms a little before letting them go.
“I have an idea,” he said. “You can say no if you like, but I want you to consider it before you answer.”
“What is it?” she said warily, eyebrows raised in question. She was probably wondering if she could trust him.
“I’ve been staying at my sister’s since I got to Peach Leaf. She’s part of the reason I moved here.”
Paige’s eyes narrowed again.
“It’s not anything bad, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he said, smiling to reassure her. “I did pass the school’s background check, you know.” He winked at her.
She laughed a little.
“It’s just that when I buy a house, I want it to be the right one. I plan on staying here a while,” he said, trying not to think too much about her reaction to that. “So I’ve been staying with Rachel and her family until I find a permanent place to call home.”
Paige nodded, but Liam could tell she was apprehensive about where this was going.
Just ask her. It’s not a date. It. Is. Not. A. Date.
“Rachel and her husband have a great home and she’s been bothering me because she thinks that since I’ve moved here I haven’t met any…friends. If you agree to come over for lunch on Sunday, it’ll get her off my back for at least a couple of days. You’d be doing me a big favor.” He tilted his head toward her, urging her to offer a response.
Paige studied him and bit her lower lip. “I really don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” she said.
“And the best part is that they have a swimming pool,” he said, knowing that might seal it for Owen. “And Rachel has kids Owen’s age—she homeschools them. I know he could probably use a little fun after today—and I know you could too,” he said, checking her face for signs that she might agree.
He crossed his fingers, ignoring his sudden awareness of how much her answer meant beyond just helping Owen. He knew he was headed down a risky path, but as he waited for her to speak, watching her weigh his integrity with her sharp blue eyes, he knew that he no longer cared. All rationality aside, it was too late to backtrack now.
“It’s just that I kind of am your boss,” she said, “and I don’t know how it will look if I go home with you.”
Liam nodded, trying to hide his disappointment.
“It’s not a date, Paige,” he said, and the sound of her first name as it slid so easily past his lips sat heavily in the room between them. “And it’s technically not my home.”
“I guess it would be okay,” she said finally. “And you’re right, Owen would really enjoy it—he loves swimming.”
Excitement rippled up Liam’s spine, but he kept his expression neutral.
“Great, then. I’ll email you the address,” he said, sure she would refuse if he offered to pick her and Owen up.
“All right,” she said with a tentative grin.
He knew her expression would carry him through the rest of the week.
* * *
I really need to get a grip, Paige thought to herself. For the rest of the week, she’d wavered a million times about whether or not she’d made the right decision in agreeing to have lunch with Liam. She told herself Owen needed the break, that he’d have a wonderful time playing in a swimming pool, especially with the temperatures still in the hundreds. She knew it would be good for her son to get to know some other kids his age outside of the friends he’d gone to school with his entire life, but, if she was completely honest, she knew she had another reason for going, too.
Despite her efforts, when she saw Liam in the hallways, it was getting hard to ignore the way she felt. The way her heart fluttered just a bit when she thought about those dark green eyes and how they fixated on her and held her in their grip. If he had been any other person outside of school, she might have considered the possibility of a new man in her life.
Wouldn’t she?
When Mark had died, Paige had thought that part of her was over and done, that the rest of her life would be devoted completely to Owen. She’d never even considered the possibility of dating, let alone marrying again, and Liam shouldn’t have brought all of that back.
But he had.
And now it was there in front of her—the heavy awareness of possibility between them—and she was losing focus from what should be her primary concerns, which were her son and her promotion.
Over the past few days, Paige had begun to feel her ne
rves objecting to it all. Her job now was challenging enough, and already she missed teaching, so was it a good idea to accept a more difficult position? But did she even have a choice?
“Hey, Paige, how’ve you been?”
Paige looked up from her turkey sandwich and saw Camille Henderson, Owen’s main teacher, standing near the table with a pink cooler bag.
“Mind if I sit?”
“No, of course not,” Paige said. “I’m glad for your company. How’s the first week going for you?” She pulled out the chair next to her and moved her own lunch things so Cam could join her.
“Oh, you know how it goes. Jitters on the first day, chaos on the second and finally, near the end of the week, I’m getting names and personalities down. Now I’m starting to figure out who’s going to try to give me a heart attack and who’s going to remind me why I do this job in the first place.” Cam’s face lit up. She had been at Peach Leaf just a year longer than Paige, and they’d been classroom neighbors and had become good friends. Paige and the kids who were lucky to have Cam as their teacher could always count on her to bring a smile.
“Yeah, I know. I miss it sometimes,” Paige said over her sandwich.
Cam’s smile faded and her eyes grew serious.
“Listen, Paige,” she said quietly. “I’m not sure if this is a good time, and I know you don’t like to talk about Owen during school, which I completely understand…but I wanted to let you know something before I send out a note to all the parents.” Paige felt her heart leap in her throat. She knew that she’d gotten a little overexcited the other day when Owen had spoken to Liam, and even thinking about it now made her feel a warm tenderness toward both her son and his art teacher. But Liam had been right when he’d warned her not to get too optimistic—her son still had much to work through—so the somber tone of Cam’s voice set her on edge.
“Go on,” she said.
Camille looked down at the food she’d unpacked from her cooler bag and seemed to avoid meeting Paige’s eyes.
“I just wanted to let you know that we’re having an…event…in a couple of weeks.”
Paige wasn’t sure she understood. Maybe Camille didn’t have bad news about Owen after all. “What kind of event?” she asked, injecting cheer into her voice.
“It’s a skit, Paige—for Parents’ Night—and I want to give all the kids speaking parts.”
Paige’s stomach clenched, and suddenly she lost her appetite. “I see,” she said. She didn’t know what else to say. Cam meant no harm; she was a friend and a skilled instructor, and Paige understood why she would have all the students participate. Her son’s delay was starting to affect him in ways that might be harmful. Most notably, he probably wouldn’t be able to participate in this skit with his classmates and friends.
“It’s important for the kids to do things like this at their age,” Cam went on. “It’s good for them to get in front of each other and their parents and perform. It helps them build their confidence and gets them used to memorization too.”
Paige nodded. “I understand, and you’re completely right, Cam. I just…”
Cam’s expression softened and she reached out a hand to cover Paige’s. Paige resisted the urge to pull away. She knew that the concern she felt radiating from Cam came from a good place.
“You know this isn’t about Owen,” Cam said. “I’m not doing this to force him to do something he may not be ready for.”
“I know. I just don’t want to see him hurt in front of all those people, when he’s the only one without a speaking part.” She wasn’t sure if she should tell Cam about what had happened with Liam. If she did, then Cam might assign her son a speaking role, expecting him to be all right, and the pressure might crush Owen’s spirit and stamp out any chance of him progressing. However, she felt he deserved the chance to have the same experience as his classmates.
“I need to tell you something that happened recently, but it has to stay between us.”
“I’m listening,” Cam said.
“I’m sure you’ve met Li—Mr. Campbell, the new art teacher?”
“Um, yeah, I’ve met him.” Camille blushed slightly and raised her eyebrows. “He’s a complete hunk.”
Paige tried to ignore the little flip of her stomach at Cam’s reaction to Liam. Why should she care? Cam was single and a wonderful person, and could she really blame her friend for having a little crush on the new teacher?
“Well, anyway. The other day, I was late picking up Owen and he ended up spending some time with Mr. Campbell.”
Cam nodded.
“So when I went to the classroom to get Owen, I overheard him say something to the art teacher.”
Camille’s already large brown eyes widened and her mouth formed an “O.”
“You’re kidding!” She clasped her hands in front of her, and an enormous grin crossed her face.
“It wasn’t anything much, really. He just said one word. And I’m not entirely sure if he was actually speaking to Mr. Campbell or if he was just talking to himself, but he definitely spoke in front of the teacher—in front of someone besides me.”
“That’s wonderful!” Cam said. “What did he say?”
Paige smiled. “He said ‘cool.’”
Cam got up from the table and grabbed Paige in a bear hug before sitting down again. Paige pulled her sandwich closer and took a small bite. “It could mean nothing,” she said. “Mr. Campbell said that I need to keep going on as though nothing amazing happened so that Owen doesn’t get overwhelmed.”
“That makes sense,” Cam answered. “Sounds like the new art teacher is a pretty great guy.”
“Yeah, he is.”
Cam searched Paige’s eyes.
“Am I detecting a trace of something a little more than an assistant principal and teacher relationship going on there?” Cam said, winking.
“No, of course not. It’s nothing like that,” she lied. How she wished she could tell her friend the truth about her mixed-up, confusing emotions toward Liam, but doing so could put her new job offer in jeopardy. Paige knew what it would look like. If Liam ever got a promotion or was seen with Paige, questions would be raised, questions she couldn’t afford to have swirling around if she wanted a life that was different from her father’s and if she wanted a stable life for her son.
Cam looked up over her salad then, and Paige followed her line of vision to the doorway of the teacher’s lounge.
And there he was.
Obviously feeling less shy than Paige herself, Liam strolled over to the table she shared with Cam.
“Hey, there,” he said. Cam practically swooned, and Paige found herself irritated for some reason.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Campbell,” Paige said, more formally and coldly than she had intended. She hoped the rest of the staff in the room couldn’t see her blush. How ridiculous of her. They barely knew each other, and still she felt like a teenager with a stupid crush.
“Well, I’ve got to run, you two,” said Cam. She got up and gathered the rest of her things. “Ms. Graham, I’ll see you later and we can talk more about the skit.”
Cam left the lunchroom just as the bell rang and the other teachers filed out to get their classes from the cafeteria. After a moment, the room was empty except for Paige and Liam.
“I see you’re not eating much,” he said, pointing to Paige’s discarded sandwich. “Don’t mind if I do,” he said, grabbing a grape. A smile played at the corners of his mouth, and Paige couldn’t decide if she wanted to smack him or laugh. He had such a hold on her, and she hated it.
“I’m not hungry,” she said.
“Is everything all right?” he asked.
He seemed completely at ease, despite the fact that they were the only two people there and were sharing a table. On the surface it probably looked like a l
unch meeting, and if she had been with any other teacher, she wouldn’t have given it a second thought. But to her, it felt like…like what, exactly? She was afraid to answer her own question.
“Yes, everything’s fine,” she lied. She seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.
“No, it isn’t, Paige,” Liam said, his grin soft and gentle. “I can see that something’s wrong. Come on. Talk to me. I might be able to help.”
“I don’t need any help, thanks. Really, everything’s fine.”
“Yeah—that’s your motto.”
Liam’s eyes darkened then, and Paige felt a sudden stab of guilt for shutting him out when he was only trying to help. She couldn’t stand taking any more from him than he’d already given her when she had nothing to offer in return.
“All right, then,” he said, his rich, warm voice turning her heart over in her chest and adding to her remorse. “Assistant Principal Graham doesn’t need help from anybody.”
She could hear the slight agitation growing in his voice. She realized she had hurt him this time, and the thought stung.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
His eyes warmed, but they still held a hint of the injury her words had caused.
“We seem to be doing a lot of apologizing lately,” he said, and Paige nodded. Would it really hurt if she decided to be honest with him for once?
“I found out today that Owen has a skit coming up for Parents’ Night. Camille wants to give all the students in his class speaking parts, and, well, that’s a problem for Owen. It’s hard enough for him to speak in front of one person. So I can’t even imagine how difficult it will be for him to get up in front of an entire audience of parents and his peers and say lines.”
Liam listened quietly as she spoke. He seemed truly invested in every word she had to say. He was both kind and handsome, and he clearly loved children. Camille was right. He would be a catch for any available woman.
