by Jill Kemerer
“Why are these things—” he grimaced, holding a strawberry slice in the air “—on my waffles?”
She propped up a smile. “They’re strawberries. Full of vitamin C.”
His shoulders drooped as he pushed all the strawberries to the side. His hair was sticking up in the back, but at least he’d changed into his school clothes.
“They’re good. You should try them.” This morning wasn’t going much better than last night. She’d spent her life helping kids, but she had no experience taking care of them. “At least eat the waffles. You need some food in your stomach. It will help you learn.”
Wyatt wolfed down the waffles, ignoring the berries. Lauren heard the telltale screech of brakes in the distance.
“Grab your backpack. The bus is almost here.”
He trudged to the hall and slung his backpack over his shoulder. “Will you be here when I get home?”
“No, I won’t. Your uncle will.” She opened the front door. “Have a good day.”
His eyebrows rose in worry, but he nodded and walked to the end of the drive right as the bus pulled up. Lauren waited in the doorway until he was safely on, and then she shut the door and tidied up the kitchen and living room. She was getting ready to take her first sip of coffee when Drew walked in.
“How did it go?” he asked, his eyes roaming over the room. He draped his jacket on the back of a chair and set a stack of papers on the table.
Lauren debated how to answer. The weariness in Drew’s posture and the bags under his eyes set her in motion. She poured him a cup of coffee. “Do you want cream and sugar?”
He wiped both hands down his face. “No, thanks. I like it black.”
She returned and set the mug on the coffee table in front of Drew before taking a seat on the couch. “Sit.”
He lifted a brow, smiled and kicked back in the recliner. “Yes, sir.”
“Sir?”
“Sorry.” He chuckled. “Habit. I’ve repeated those words more times in the past twenty-four hours than I care to admit. It’s going to take a long time and a lot of effort to get them to accept me.”
“What do you mean?” Lauren hadn’t considered he wouldn’t be instantly accepted at the fire station.
He took a drink, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. The new guy always needs to prove himself. Unfortunately, I have more to prove, given my past.”
She sipped her coffee. “Is there bad blood or something?”
“Tony Ludlow is one of the crew.”
“I always liked Tony,” she said. He’d treated her with respect in high school. Never teased her. He’d pitched in to help with homecoming floats and fund-raisers for Students Against Teen Drinking on many occasions.
Drew’s expression darkened. “Figures.”
He sounded jealous. She bit back a smile.
“How was your first night with Wyatt?”
First night...and possibly only night? How honest should she be?
“Well, I slept good. Thanks for setting the room up for me.” She’d been surprised to find a pullout sofa made up with a pretty butter-yellow comforter in the office.
“Of course. Do you need anything? Say the word, and we’ll get it for you.”
“It’s perfect.”
He nodded. “And Wyatt? How did it go?”
“Um, I don’t know.”
Drew sat up straight. “What happened? Is he okay? Did he get on the bus? Was he worried?”
“Whoa, there, tiger.” She held both palms out. “Wyatt is fine. It’s me. How can I put this? Um... I don’t have much experience taking care of kids.”
He collapsed back into the recliner. “Is that all? No problem. You’ll get the hang of it in no time. Wyatt’s pretty easy. It’s not like you have to change diapers or anything.”
“True.” She avoided eye contact. “But I don’t really know what to do with him.”
Drew slapped his thigh. “Easy. Homework. Video games. TV. Bed.”
“Well, he said he didn’t have homework. I did let him play video games for an hour, but I don’t think he should be playing them all night. And the television show he wanted to watch was entirely inappropriate for a boy his age.”
“What show was it?”
“Monsters Inside Me.”
“Oh, that’s a good one.” Drew grinned. “Last week a man had worms in his intestines and didn’t know it. It was disgusting.”
She gagged a little bit. “It sounds disgusting. And traumatizing. I turned off the TV and put on music. I suggest you do the same.”
“Yeah, I heard you were playing jazz last night.”
“Oh, did Wyatt like it?” She took another sip.
“He called it weird and told me he would change the channel if he knew your pass code.”
Lauren was taken aback. Then she laughed. Drew joined in. A comfortable feeling spread through her, sitting here in Drew’s living room, drinking coffee, chatting about Wyatt.
“Thanks again, Lauren.” His voice lowered, and she had to look away from the sincerity in his eyes. “With you watching Wyatt, well...everything else isn’t so bad.”
She swallowed the doubts she’d been tallying. “I don’t know what I’m doing, though.”
“Just be here for him. Physically be here. That’s what he needs.”
Exactly. She’d been overthinking it. She just needed to show up and make sure he had dinner and went to bed on time. That was it.
But maybe a few of her rules wouldn’t hurt him. Less video games, no scary shows and more creative time. Couldn’t hurt.
“You look beat.” She got up and took her mug to the kitchen. After rinsing it out, she grabbed her purse and returned to the living room.
His eyes were already closed. Should she tell him to go to bed? She stood there and watched him a minute. Dark lashes splayed across high cheekbones. His hair was tousled. He looked vulnerable. So handsome.
She pushed the recliner’s button for the footrest to extend and covered him with a soft gray throw that had been slung over the couch.
It had been a long time since she’d felt maternal. Strange, Drew brought out her nurturing side. She’d thought it had died back in Chicago.
Maybe it would have been better for them all if it had.
Nonsense. If last night proved anything, she didn’t have to worry about growing too attached to Wyatt. Or Drew. She was the babysitter. That was all.
* * *
“What do you mean he’s behind in school?” Drew held his phone to his ear and listened to Wyatt’s teacher explain the benchmark results. “Those are just tests. They don’t mean anything.”
“Tests tend to reflect basic skill levels, and he hasn’t been turning in his homework. I’m not trying to get Wyatt into trouble, but I wanted you to be aware of the situation.”
Wyatt wasn’t turning in his homework? Drew sighed. It was much easier being the fun uncle than the responsible father. “Thank you. I’ll take care of it.”
The past two weeks had been hectic. Work had not improved. He’d tried to apologize to Tony, but Tony wouldn’t hear him out. Since then, Drew had met all the firefighters, and two had played football with him in high school, although they were younger than him. They kept bringing up old games, and he couldn’t take another sentence beginning with, “Hey, remember the time you...” He wasn’t sure what was worse—Tony’s snide remarks or their hero worship. The chief still hated him, too.
And now this.
Wyatt wouldn’t be home for almost an hour. Drew didn’t know what to do or say. Should he confront him? He had a vision of himself waving papers in front of Wyatt’s face, demanding to know why he wasn’t doing his homework. Then it would move to ranting about how important school was, how Wyatt didn’t want to have poor study
habits like Drew or he’d get kicked out of college and end up working at a gas station.
Probably not the lecture Wyatt needed at this point in his life.
Lauren would know what to do. He tied his running shoes, snatched his keys off the hook and let the front door slam behind him.
Five minutes later he parked behind the hardware store and jogged to the back entrance. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he pressed the intercom.
“Who is it?”
“Drew.”
“Drew who?”
“Very funny.” He rolled his eyes and smiled. “Do you have a minute?”
She buzzed him in. He took the steps two at a time and found himself face-to-face with a wooden door. Lauren opened it. “What’s up?”
He followed her inside. Now that he was here, he was curious to see how she lived. Galley kitchen to the right. Small table and chairs in the dining area. A cream couch and matching love seat took up most of the living room. Neither would stand a chance at staying clean with him or Wyatt. They merely had to look at something that light in color for it to get dirty. She’d placed a fluffy peach rug under the coffee table, and matching pillows adorned the couches. What stood out most of all, though, were the plants. Two tall potted trees stood in opposite corners, flanking a picture window with a view of Main Street. A fern hung from the ceiling, and three other plants—one appeared to be tall grass—were placed in various spots.
“Have a seat.” She waved to the couch. He admired her casual style. Jeans rolled up at the ankles and an oversize Kelly green sweatshirt. She looked natural. Fresh. “What’s going on?”
He sat on the edge of the couch, knees wide, elbows resting on them. “I got a call from Wyatt’s teacher, and I’m hoping you can tell me what to do.”
Her hand flew to her throat. “Oh, no. What is it? He fell. He’s hurt. He’s missing. He’s not missing, is he?”
“No, of course not. Nothing like that.” The way she’d rapid-fired off the worst scenarios poked his conscience. He hadn’t put any more thought into what had made her quit her job in Chicago, but from the way she reacted, he could imagine only the worst. “He’s behind in school.”
Her upper body seemed to dissolve as she melted into the love seat. “Oh. You had me worried.”
“Well, I am worried. He’s not turning in his assignments. And his benchmarks were low.”
A huge gray tiger-striped cat appeared out of nowhere, weaving in between his legs.
“What in the world?” He hopped to his feet, glaring at the cat. “Where did that thing come from?”
Lauren rolled her eyes. “The bedroom. This is Zingo. He’s the best kitty in the world, so I’d tread carefully if I were you.”
He pursed his lips and, keeping his eyes glued to the cat—who continued to rub his body around Drew’s leg—sat back down. The beast jumped on the couch and onto his lap. He froze. “What. Do. I. Do?”
“Well, for one, you can stop acting like a big baby. He’s a cat, not a poisonous snake.”
“I can see that,” he snapped.
“Pet him.” She widened her eyes in emphasis and pointed at the feline.
He’d never been around cats. Didn’t they carry diseases? Or kill babies? He’d heard rumors...
Gingerly, he touched Zingo’s back. “Hey, he’s soft.”
“Duh.”
Zingo curled up on his lap. “Is this normal?” When she nodded, he shrugged. “Okay, then. Back to the problem. What am I going to do about Wyatt?”
Lauren crossed one leg over the other and lifted her finger to her chin. “Hmm...”
He patted the cat’s head. It started purring. He decided to ignore it.
“Did the teacher say he’s behind in all his subjects or certain ones?”
“Math. Doesn’t know how to multiply. He does okay in reading, but his writing needs work.”
Lauren bridged her fingers. “Are you going over his homework with him at night?”
“He never has any.”
“Yeah, he tells me the same. Obviously, he does have homework and is choosing not to deal with it.”
“And lying about it.” Drew clenched his jaw. He hated lies. “Unacceptable.”
“You look mad. Are you going to say something to him?”
“Of course. I can’t let him get away with lying.”
“Right. You’re right, but...” She frowned. “Maybe I should be there, too.”
“Why?”
“To keep it peaceful.”
“I’m not going to coddle him about this. He needs to be responsible.”
“This isn’t about coddling. It’s about your approach. He needs to feel it’s safe to make mistakes.”
Exactly why Drew had come here in the first place—to get her opinion. He sat back, mindlessly stroking the cat’s fur. “All right. What do you suggest?”
“Let’s go back to your place, and when he gets home, we’ll talk to him. Together.”
He almost closed his eyes in relief. Together. The best word he’d heard since taking custody of Wyatt. “I’ll drive.”
Forty-five minutes later, after Wyatt had gotten off the bus, they all sat around the kitchen table, munching on a plate of grapes and cheese Lauren had thrown together. Wyatt popped one grape in after another. Drew glanced at her, and she nodded.
“Your teacher called today. Seems she’s missing some of your homework.”
Wyatt stopped chewing and stared at the table. “She must have lost it.”
“Wyatt—” His voice rose. Lauren touched his arm.
“I don’t recall you bringing any home.” Lauren gestured to Wyatt.
He swallowed. “I do it at school.”
“All of it?” she asked.
He nodded. Drew regained his composure. “Listen, buddy, homework is important.”
“Dad didn’t make me do it.” Scowling, Wyatt crossed his arms over his chest.
“Since when?” Drew asked. “You can’t pull that one on me. We’ve been together for years. School’s always been important.”
“I don’t need it. I’m going to be a football player like Dad when I grow up.”
Drew wasn’t touching this topic. He hadn’t talked to Wyatt about Chase’s no-football decree because it hadn’t come up. He did not want to get into it now.
“Your dad had to get into college to play football,” Lauren said. “He was required to get good grades.”
“Really?” Wyatt tilted his head slightly.
Saved by Lauren. Again.
“He worked hard at school.” Drew leaned back in his chair. “You know we were roommates. He pulled plenty of all-nighters studying for tests. Did you know he has a degree in marketing?”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Yep.”
“If it’s okay with you, Drew,” Lauren said, “let’s make a new rule. The first thing Wyatt does after school is homework. Drew will help you with it when he’s home, and I’ll help when he’s at work.”
“First thing?” Wyatt whined. “Can’t I have a snack first?”
“Of course you can have a snack.” Drew grew serious. “But, Wyatt, I don’t want you lying to me. If you’re going to grow up to be a man of integrity, you have to tell the truth.”
Wyatt nodded. “I’m sorry, Uncle Drew.”
He held his arms out, and Wyatt fell into them. Drew met Lauren’s eyes and mouthed, “Thank you.” She’d taken a potentially volatile situation and made it okay. It felt good to have someone in his corner for once.
At least one person in this town was on his side.
Chapter Five
“Snack time is over. Haul out the books.” Lauren clapped her hands the next afternoon. Wyatt looked like he’d just b
rushed his teeth with vinegar. Drew had said Wyatt just needed her to be present, and that was what she’d been for the handful of times she’d stayed with him so far. But now she had a mission to help Wyatt improve his grades—whether he wanted help or not. “I printed out worksheets to help you with multiplication.”
“Those are for babies. I already know how to multiply.” Wyatt pressed the tips of his fingers against the cracker crumbs and licked them. “We learned it last year.”
“Good. Then you’ll get through these really quick.”
He let out the most pitiful sigh she’d ever heard. How did one motivate a ten-year-old boy to want to learn? Math was important. School was important.
“C’mon,” she said. “The sooner you get these done, the sooner we can get out of here.”
His eyes lit up, almost gold in color. “Where are we going?”
“I’m taking you to my parents’ house.” She gestured to his backpack, and he grunted but took folders and books out of it. “Mom and Dad are cooking us lasagna.”
“I thought your dad died.”
“My birth father died. My birth mother, too. I’m taking you to meet my parents, the ones who raised me. They adopted me when I was seven. I think you’ll like them. They live on the other side of the lake.”
Wyatt clicked through a short piece of lead in his mechanical pencil until a new one worked its way down. As he opened a blue folder, Lauren took the seat next to him at the table.
“How did your mom die?” His freckles emphasized his innocent face. She wanted to kiss his forehead, which was ridiculous. He wasn’t her son. But this was the first time he’d asked anything of her beyond, “Why can’t I play another hour of ‘Minecraft’?” and “Please, can I have another brownie?” The urge to share her past with him pressed on her heart.
She didn’t want to burden him. Would talking about her messed-up past confuse him more?
She remembered when a girl in her third-grade class announced to everyone her parents had adopted a new brother for her. Part of Lauren had rejoiced the girl was so excited to have an adopted sibling, but the other part wanted to blend in with her classmates and hide the fact that she was adopted. Since the Pierces had moved to Lake Endwell when Lauren was in second grade, it wasn’t common knowledge she wasn’t their natural-born child. That day had made her feel less alone, knowing other kids got adopted, too. In fact, the other girl’s attitude had changed her view of herself, paving the way for her to accept the fact that her parents wanted her the same way her classmate wanted her new brother.
