by Jill Kemerer
Drew reached for his coffee, frowning as he processed more of the words. Like her use of the word was.
“Didn’t take long to find out his grandmother had been living with them and their drug-addicted mom. A few months prior to the teacher filing the report, the grandma had a stroke and was moved to a nursing home to recover. Jay’s life—and Treyvon’s—had dissolved into chaos. I’ll spare you the details of their situation, but neither had the clothing, food or supervision necessary. I was doing my best to work with their mother to create a healthy home situation until the grandmother could return home.”
“Wait.” He raised his hand. “They still lived with their mom even though she was on drugs? For how long?”
“I’d been working with them for about a month. I convinced her to get a family friend to live with them until the grandmother was released. The doctor’s reports were promising. Although her speech was slurred, her right side had regained enough mobility for her to walk with a walker. Their grandma was expected to be home within a few weeks.”
“But why let those boys stay there at all?” He couldn’t wrap his head around it.
“We work with the children’s family to fix problems first as long as the kids aren’t in danger. Their mom agreed to ask her friend to stay, and that alone solved several of the issues. She also agreed to a treatment program.”
“I see.” He didn’t, though. Not really. Kids shouldn’t live around drugs.
“It’s next to impossible to place two adolescent boys into a foster home. Treyvon flat out told me he’d run away with Jay if they couldn’t stay together. They’d been well taken care of by their grandmother. My hope was when she returned, they would go back to their normal life.”
He took a drink of lukewarm coffee, dreading the way the story was heading.
“Long story short, the grandmother got pneumonia and died unexpectedly. The family friend moved out. I had two weeks to place both kids in foster homes. I tried so hard to keep them together. I called everyone on my list.”
“You couldn’t help it if they had to be separated.”
Her eyes, silver with unshed tears, met his. “They didn’t have time to be separated. Jay was shot in a drive-by. Gunned down on a sidewalk. Twelve. A boy his age shouldn’t be outside at one in the morning, and especially not in that neighborhood. I know he was looking for Treyvon.”
Drew pushed his plate back, no longer hungry. “Where was Treyvon?”
“Robbing a mini-mart. One of the local gangs recruited him. That’s exactly what I worried about when he told me he would run away. The odds of escaping gang life when you have nowhere to go and aren’t old enough to have a job aren’t good.”
Drew sucked in a breath. He felt bad about the kids, but Lauren worked in gang areas? How much danger had she been in all those years? Unwanted scenarios, all bad, popped up in his head, but he shook them away.
“So Jay—did he make it?” He reached over, covering her hand on the table with his. She didn’t pull it away, which he took as a good sign.
“He died near a vacant lot two blocks from his house.” Her flat tone worried him. “And Treyvon’s in a juvenile detention center until he’s of age.”
“I’m sorry, Lauren.” He stood and pulled her into his arms, inhaling the coconut smell of her shampoo as her head leaned against his shoulder. She wrapped her arms around his waist. Having her in his arms felt right even if it was only to comfort her.
She took a slight step back, but he kept his arms around her.
“I should have gotten them out of there sooner. I failed them, Drew. They were good kids. They tried hard to rise above their situation, and I was their liaison. I was supposed to help them, and both their lives are ruined because of me.”
Tipping her chin up with his finger, he looked her in the eyes. “Hey, it’s not your fault. How were you supposed to know their grandmother would die? Or Treyvon would join a gang?”
“I knew the signs. Kids in that neighborhood were always being pressured to join one of the local gangs. All the gang members had to do was threaten to hurt one of their loved ones...” She shivered. “Jay and Treyvon were acting secretive when I met with them those final two weeks. I told myself they were sad about their grandmother. That they were worried about what would happen to them. I should have put two and two together.”
“Don’t do this to yourself, Lauren.”
She slipped out of his grasp, rubbing her biceps, and faced the window. “It’s hard. I saw so much potential in Jay. When I think of him shot down—he was just a boy. I made him promises I didn’t keep.”
“Didn’t or couldn’t? There’s a difference, you know.” Drew put his hand on her shoulder. She glanced up at him, her expression pleading for something—redemption maybe—but she turned, picked up her mug and padded to the kitchen. He followed her. She shut the microwave door and jabbed the buttons until the machine whirred to life.
“What does it matter now? He’s dead. Another bright light in this world snuffed out. I thought I could make a difference...” She leaned against the counter.
“You did make a difference.”
“Now who’s lying?” She let out a brittle laugh and ran her fingers through her hair. “Never mind. I should get going.”
“Your coffee hasn’t finished warming up.”
“I’m not thirsty anymore.”
She grabbed her purse, but Drew held on to her arm. He should let her leave, but everything inside him screamed to make her stay. “Wait. Don’t you want to hear about the accident last night?”
She shook her head. “You were right. I can’t handle it.”
And she left.
Drew stared at the closed door. She’d handled far worse than he did. He was a first responder, detached from the personal lives of the victims he helped. He didn’t blame her for quitting, but why had she stayed with it for all those years to begin with?
Was it selfish to be relieved she was no longer a social worker? Too dangerous. When he thought of her walking through gang areas, making visits to drug addicts’ homes...he wanted to lock her up and keep her from ever being in danger again. She was sunshine, a bright light to protect and cherish.
But she wasn’t his.
At least she wasn’t in Chicago anymore. He liked her right here in sleepy Lake Endwell.
He just hoped he hadn’t pushed her too far.
* * *
Lauren’s windshield wipers swiped angrily as she drove away from Drew’s. Gripping the steering wheel, her hands trembled.
Don’t think. Just go.
When life got to be too much, she would drive to a secluded area several miles out of town. On warm days, she’d stroll along the path next to the river. On rainy days like today, she’d sit in her car and soak in the view of the trees and river for as long as possible. The place soothed her in a way she couldn’t explain. She’d missed this spot when she lived in Chicago.
As soon as she drove into the deserted parking lot, her tension lowered a bit. She flexed her hands open and shut a few times and forced her jaw to relax. Even through the rain, the bright green leaves on the trees looked supple and new.
Drew was right. She should have found Treyvon and Jay foster homes from the start.
But their situation had been so tricky. She’d been sure their grandmother would come home. Treyvon had been adamant about not getting separated from Jay. And their mother had agreed to drug counseling. Lauren had convinced her to get another responsible adult in the household. The woman had complied.
How had it gone so wrong?
Why, Lord? Why did it have to happen that way? Why did You let it happen?
The ping of rain against the roof was the only answer.
Her chest felt as if it were being squeezed by a giant clamp. She choked back threatening tears
, refusing to give in to the hopelessness that wouldn’t subside.
Her phone dinged. She glanced at it. Drew texted, Are you okay?
No, she was not okay. She might never be okay.
Jesus wept. She could hear her voice saying those words to Wyatt.
She was the world’s biggest hypocrite. Always had an answer for everyone else but didn’t take her own advice.
Okay, God. I told Wyatt to give his anger to You. But I haven’t given mine up. I’m clinging to it, and I don’t know why.
Because like Wyatt had said, forgiveness seemed like a free pass. Like what happened didn’t matter.
Lord, help me release my anger. I want to stop being angry with You. With me. Even with Treyvon. I don’t know how. I can’t make any sense of why Jay died. Why? Why did it have to end so badly?
An old Bible verse came to mind, something about God working all things out for the good of those who loved Him.
She typed in her Bible app. But before the results showed up, she closed her eyes. Could she really believe God worked all things out for good? Even the horrible, sinful, evil things?
She didn’t want bad things worked out for good. She wanted them good to begin with. Shouldn’t Wyatt be living with his father? Shouldn’t Jay and Treyvon’s grandmother have lived? Shouldn’t both boys still be going to school?
She closed the app and tossed her phone in her purse.
The anger she’d work on, but she wasn’t ready to forgive. Not God, not the shooters, not the gang members, not Treyvon. Not even herself.
She might never be ready.
Chapter Six
Two weeks later, Lauren tapped her foot and checked the clock above Joanna Mills’s desk in the art room at the elementary school. She had exactly fourteen minutes before Wyatt got out of school. Once she signed him out, they planned on surprising Drew with treats at the fire station for his one-month anniversary. After she told Drew everything about Chicago, they had fallen back into their routine. He didn’t ask probing questions, and she kept her focus on Wyatt, where it belonged. And now two dozen chocolate cupcakes fresh from the Daily Donut were nestled in her backseat, but Joanna still hadn’t returned to the art room.
“Sorry about that. I found it.” Joanna licked her finger and rifled through a folder before selecting a paper. “Here it is. Everything you need to know about getting certified to be a cheerleading coach. The program goes over a lot of stuff like keeping the cheerleaders healthy and preventing injuries. It’s worth the time.”
Lauren scanned the paper. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” Joanna smiled, setting the folder on top of a teetering stack of papers. “Did you know they need another high school counselor? Great hours. Typical pay. You really should apply for the position. You’ll have a much better chance at getting hired as the coach if you’re employed by the school.”
School counselor? Lauren didn’t realize a position was open. The very words sent dread from her head to her toes. “I’m not interested.”
“No? I thought you used to be a social worker. Seems like a great fit. But, then, it’s pretty tame around here. I don’t blame you if sending transcripts to colleges and changing kids’ schedules isn’t your dream job.”
Sending transcripts and fixing schedules actually sounded quite nice.
“Tell me more about the position.”
Joanna filled her in on what she knew. Lauren had to admit it appealed to her, but she didn’t have time to think about it. She needed to sign Wyatt out. He would worry if she wasn’t waiting for him. “Thank you. I’ll think about it, but I have to run.”
Joanna followed her to the door. “Go online and fill out the application. There will be about a million hoops to jump through, but don’t let that stop you.”
“Thanks, Joanna. I appreciate it.”
Twenty minutes later, Lauren and Wyatt rolled down the car windows on the way to the fire station.
“Can you believe it’s June already?” Lauren grinned. “How many days left of school?”
“Four.” Wyatt tipped his head back as the wind blasted his face. “I can’t wait! Jackson and Levi told me they’re playing football this summer. It starts in August. I have a sign-up form. It’s going to be awesome!”
Lauren frowned. Football. Hadn’t Drew told her Wyatt wasn’t allowed to play? She made a mental note to ask him about it later. “What about Hunter?”
Wyatt’s face fell. “I don’t know. I think he plays soccer. But all the cool kids are playing football. Levi’s dad is coaching. I hope I get on his team.”
“The cool kids, huh?” She waited for the traffic light to turn green. “Isn’t Hunter a cool kid?”
Wyatt mumbled something.
“What was that? I couldn’t hear you?”
“Hunter’s nice, but Jackson and Levi...”
When he didn’t elaborate, she prodded. “Are cool?”
There was his smile. He nodded happily.
She parked the car and figured she’d talk to Drew about the football situation later. “Here. You take a box, and I’ll take a box. Together we might get all twenty-four of these yum-yums into the station without dropping any.”
“Yum-yums?” Wyatt shook his head, acting disgusted. But he held his hands out for her to set one of the boxes in them. “You have the weirdest sayings, Lauren.”
“Weird? Moi? You should be glad you have me around to enlighten you.” Grinning, she held the other box and shut the door with her backside. Wyatt fell in beside her. Tony Ludlow let them into the station, and they followed him to the kitchen.
“What’s this?” Tony tried to lift the cover of her cupcake box.
“No peeking.” She gave him a fake frown. “Is Drew around?”
His smile faltered, but he hitched his chin. “Sure. I’ll get him.”
Drew appeared. “Why are you guys here?” The twinkle in his eyes contained more than simple happiness. He looked genuinely surprised. Hadn’t he ever been the recipient of a nice gesture before?
“It’s your one-month anniversary. We thought we should celebrate it.” Lauren winked at Wyatt, who lifted the lid off the boxes. The cupcakes spelled out, “Thank You, Drew and Station 4.”
“You did this for me?” Drew gazed at her intently, then pulled Wyatt into a hug. “Wow, thank you.”
“Well, go on.” Lauren waved at the box. “Try one.”
Two guys joined them. “What’s this? Oh, hey, Wyatt, how’s it going?”
Wyatt fist-bumped the men, clearly familiar with them, and Lauren watched in amusement as they interacted. Like wolves catching a whiff of a fresh kill, the rest of the crew filled the kitchen. Drew introduced Lauren to the people she didn’t know. Tony strolled back in and read the lettering on the cupcakes.
“Drew, huh?” Tony sniffed, grinning at her. “Be honest. You did this to thank me—didn’t you Lauren?”
She laughed, glancing at Drew. He’d frozen with half a cupcake in his hand, the other half in his mouth.
“You think so?” Lauren punched Tony’s arm lightly. “And I suppose you’re the king of the station around here.”
“I get the job done.” His smug expression made her chuckle. “Unlike your boyfriend here.”
Boyfriend? She sputtered. Tony thought she and Drew were...dating? Absurd!
But...the idea wasn’t horrible. She darted a peek at Drew’s lips. Chocolate-frosted lips.
“Who’s dating Gannon?” one of the guys yelled out.
“Well, there goes my chance with her,” another one muttered.
Wyatt looked excited, doubtful and a tad confused.
“Hold on there.” Drew held his palms out. “We’re not dating.”
Lauren blinked, oddly disappointed Drew sounded so adamant about it. They cha
tted with everyone, and within minutes, the cupcakes were gone. Drew walked Lauren and Wyatt to the door. “Thanks for doing this. It means a lot to me.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Hey, can you stick around for a while when I get home tomorrow?”
“Why?” Her stomach started twirling.
The intensity in his stare didn’t help her tummy. “I have something I want to talk to you about. I’ll bring breakfast.”
Lauren nodded and nudged Wyatt to the parking lot. Drew was bringing her breakfast. She liked the sound of that. But what did he want to talk to her about?
She guessed she’d find out in the morning.
* * *
Drew juggled the paper bag filled with carryout containers from Pat’s Diner in his hand as he fumbled with his keys to unlock the front door the next morning. Ever since that idiot Tony had said the word boyfriend about him and Lauren, Drew had been hammered with endless comments about how hot Lauren was, and how she was a legend in high school, and why hadn’t she gotten married, and maybe Miggs or Dan had a chance. At least Tony was married, so Drew hadn’t had to listen to him go on and on about Lauren.
He’d wanted to smash cupcakes in the other guys’ faces. But that wasn’t acceptable behavior, and the cupcakes had been long gone at that point, so he’d had to grit his teeth and not say a word. Not one word. Or they would tease him mercilessly the rest of his working days.
He was still on extremely thin ice where his coworkers were concerned. Sure, he and Tony had been getting along slightly better. But the chief continued to harass him. Drew always got the worst cleanup jobs, and he wouldn’t be assigned driving duty until the probation period was over. He was the backup, the probie, and it bugged him.
But not as much as the thought of Lauren dating one of the guys from work.
