by Dana Corbit
He didn’t bother telling himself this was only about Blake. Not anymore. Poor timing or not, he wanted to be with Shannon. He wanted to be with her and Blake while mother and son navigated their fledgling relationship. Maybe after that, too. As if he hadn’t already learned how fleeting life could be from his parents’ early deaths, the scare this week involving that young girl and her baby had served as a stark reminder. He didn’t want to waste a moment when he could be with her.
Mark managed to avoid any conversations in the locker room, but as soon as he stepped into the squad room, the heat of dozens of gazes covered him. It came as no surprise that Brody Davison was the first to approach him.
“Well, Trooper Shoffner, how was the vacation?”
“Sunny and relaxing.”
Brody gave him a measuring look. “Good tan.”
“I try.”
Close enough to hear the conversation, Angela Vincent stepped over to join them. “From what I hear, it was a working vacation. How’s the work at Hope Haven coming? Wait. Hold out your hands.” She waited until he extended his hands and then took her time examining them. “You still have all ten fingers.”
“Better check his head for lobotomy wounds.” Joe Rossetti laughed at his own joke as he strode over to them, proving that his recent promotion to sergeant hadn’t made him any less of a class clown. “Did you hear he’s pulling parenting duty now? You became a foster parent to a teenager?”
Mark shrugged, smiling. The sergeant had taken a special interest in anything involving parenting lately since his own wife was expecting their first child.
“He had to do something to get Mommy’s attention,” Angela said with a smirk.
“Yeah, did you see that kid’s mom?” Brody asked. “Can’t say that I blame him for making the big gesture to get her attention.”
Mark crossed his arms, planted his feet wide and faced all of them, frowning. “No good deed goes unpunished around here. I was just trying to help out a kid who’s been pushed around from foster home to foster home.”
“So there’s nothing between you and Miss Lyndon?” Angela studied him with a stare that was probably effective when she questioned suspects.
“You mean other than a mutual interest in the welfare of a troubled teen?” he asked, instead of answering. He wished he didn’t sound so defensive, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. What had begun as a goal to sever ties between his own past and present had melded into the hope for a future, and he wasn’t ready to share that secret hope with anyone yet.
“Relax, Shoffner,” Trooper Garrett Taylor said as he joined them in the squad room. “Sensitive, aren’t we?”
“He does sound a little sensitive,” Brody said.
“I think it was a good thing.”
Mark turned toward the voice he’d only heard a few times in the squad room. Trooper Celeste Addington, with her business-only attitude, didn’t even look up from the PC where she sat working on a report. She seldom joined in on squad-room banter, but Mark appreciated her support this time.
He also appreciated that Lt. Dawson picked that moment to step in front of the group to give announcements at shift change. The sooner he made it to his patrol car and out from under the microscope of a bunch of law enforcement officers, trained to read when suspects were holding back information, the better. Because he was, and they all knew it.
“See you at the Wildwood?” Garrett asked as he collected his radio off the charger and pulled open the heavy metal door leading to the lot where the patrol cars were parked.
“Well...” Mark shrugged into his heavy coat and collected his cover. Several nights a week they met at the Wildwood Diner after their shift, and Mark seldom missed it. “I probably should get home. Blake starts at the new school tomorrow.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Garrett nodded. “You have a kid at home now.”
“You said you have a sitter, right?” Angela asked. “And Blake should already be in bed. You could call and say you’ll be a little late.”
“Wait.” Brody stepped in front of him and whirled to face him. “Who did you say was staying with the boy?”
“I didn’t.” As soon as he said it, he was sorry. The others had been carrying on various conversations as they crossed the parking lot to their cars, but their chatter died at his words. “Shannon...Miss Lyndon is watching him. She needed the chance to get to know Blake. And it wouldn’t be right to leave her there longer than necessary when she should be getting back to Hope Haven.”
“It’s very kind of you not to want to inconvenience her,” Angela said, fighting back a smile.
“Well.” Brody cleared his throat. “Safe travels out there, everyone.”
They all turned away then, and Mark didn’t miss the grins they all were trying to hide. Someone chuckled, too, covering it up with a cough. They didn’t believe him. Didn’t believe that he’d become a foster parent for Blake’s sake alone. Didn’t buy that he’d volunteered to do work at Hope Haven out of the decency of his heart. Wouldn’t accept that there wasn’t more to this story, and that this more had everything to do with Shannon Lyndon. He couldn’t blame them for not believing him because, even from the beginning, he hadn’t bought any of his story himself.
* * *
Shannon tried to keep her attention on the family sitcom playing on Mark’s television that night, but the boy sitting next to her on the sofa kept drawing her focus away from the pithy lines and canned laughter. The funny thing was Blake appeared to be sneaking glances at her just as frequently as she was peeking at him.
That he hadn’t immediately locked himself in his room as he’d done the first time she’d stayed with him, combined with his comment of support at the hospital, had given her cause to hope. When he shifted and turned to face her, she straightened in her seat. Would this be it? Would this be the moment when he finally forgave her? Would he tell her that as soon as the courts allowed it and as soon as she could find a place for them other than a home with a dozen—eleven now—pregnant teens, he wanted to live with her?
The longer he waited to say anything, the more anxious she became. Where earlier today it had seemed like a great idea to accept her mother’s dinner invitation and include Mark and Blake in it, now she worried it was too soon. Would they think it was a bad idea when she told them about it?
“So what’s the deal with you and Mark?”
It was the last thing she expected him to say. Only when Blake grinned at her did she realize that her mouth was hanging open, a landing pad for flies. She clicked her teeth shut.
“Well?” he prompted, still smiling.
She crossed her arms, suddenly cold though she already had a quilt over her lap. If her son had noticed something between her and Mark, then she hadn’t done as good a job as she’d thought of keeping her feelings private. Whether or not Mark had any feelings for her, he probably knew exactly how she felt about him.
“I’m not sure what’s happening between him and me,” she admitted finally. But once she started talking, she didn’t seem to be able to stop. “I don’t want you to worry, though. No matter what, you are my top priority. So if you don’t want Mark and me to see each other, not that we are really seeing each other, but—”
“He’s a great guy.”
Shannon’s eyes widened. “What?”
“He’s a great guy. You know that. Even if he is a cop. What other guy would have taken in a delinquent like me? He didn’t even have kids of his own.”
“I know.” She squinted, studying him. “So what you’re saying is...?”
Blake shrugged. “That I don’t care one way or another.”
His comment should have been freeing. She didn’t have to forfeit her relationship with her son for a possible connection with the man she just might be in love with. Strangely, though, his words left her
feeling empty. Right now her relationship with Blake was still a maybe, and possibilities with Mark were still just that, as well.
For a few minutes, Blake stared at the screen where the comedy played, but he didn’t laugh at the punch lines, never even cracking a smile. Finally, he faced her again.
“So what’s the story with Chelsea?”
“What do you mean?” she asked cautiously.
“You know. She said she just turned fifteen and that she’s from Keego Harbor....”
Somehow Shannon managed not to wince. Even if she’d wanted to, she couldn’t tell him details about one of her residents. She hadn’t missed that Blake and Chelsea always seemed to end up together at meals during his work at Hope Haven or that Chelsea had saved a few slices of her pumpkin pie with his name written on the plastic wrap. This had crush written all over it, and heartbreak etched on top of that. She regretted that she’d introduced Blake to the girls, but if Mark and Blake hadn’t spent time at Hope Haven, she might never have gotten to know him at all.
“You know, now might not be the best time for a romance with Chelsea. It’s just not—”
“You don’t think I’m good enough for her.”
He spat the words so fast that her neck snapped back in response. Where a few seconds before he’d been sitting close enough that she could have reached out to touch him if she dared, now he’d backed all the way up to the sofa’s edge and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Now, why would you think something like that?”
Blake blinked and then shook his head as if he, too, realized he’d overreacted. “Because I have a record.”
“Of course you’re good enough for— I mean, you’re good enough for any girl you’re interested in.” She cleared her throat. “But Chelsea—”
“Is this because she’s pregnant?”
“Well,” she began cautiously. “That is kind of a problem right now.”
“You’re a hypocrite. You got pregnant yourself, so don’t go around thinking you’re so much better than she is. She’s a great girl. Just because some creep walked out on her doesn’t mean—”
Shannon shook her head until her son finally stopped. “You’re misunderstanding me. I adore Chelsea. I love all of the girls. I just don’t think that right now, while she’s expecting a baby, it would be the best time for her to become involved with any young man.”
“You’re so selfish.”
“What?” She felt like a tennis ball being volleyed back and forth, never given the relief of a bounce on the court in between. Blake was determined to fight with her no matter what she said.
“Just because you didn’t have anyone there with you, just because my DNA-donor dad took off when you got pregnant, you don’t want anyone to be there for any of the girls.” He jumped up from the couch and looked down on her. “You don’t want Chelsea to have anyone at all. You just don’t get it.”
With that, he marched out of the room. From the sounds of his stomping, he continued up the stairs and down the hall until a door slam marked his return to his room. What had just happened? How had they ended up back here? Tonight might have started out more promising than that first night when Blake had been left in her care, but now it was just like before. He was holed up in his room again, and whether she was physically upstairs or not, she was still on the outside of his door, knocking and begging to be let into his life.
He’d come looking for her, and yet he would never fully accept her. He would never forgive her either, for something that wasn’t totally her fault. How could he say such hateful things to her? He’d almost sounded like...her. Not the things she’d ever spoken aloud to her parents, but those she’d whispered under her breath or repeated in the privacy of her thoughts. You just don’t get it. She’d once said those exact words to her parents when they’d insisted that she give up her baby. She’d certainly heard her girls say things like that when referring to their parents.
She’d been sitting cross-legged beneath the quilt, but now her feet slipped down, and the blanket dropped silently to the floor. The girls had said things like that to her about their parents, and Blake had said them to her. His mother. She grinned toward the staircase but didn’t get up to climb it. Her teenage son needed some space tonight, and she would give it to him. She’d wanted to be a mother to Blake, wanted the chance she’d missed out on fifteen years ago, and this was it. For the first time, she’d just experienced real parenting.
* * *
“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.”
Shannon startled, an electric hum inside alerting her to Mark’s nearness even before her eyes opened. He stood in the doorway across the room, his hands in his pockets. Caught, she sat up from where she’d stretched out on the sofa and tossed off the quilt she’d pulled over herself. She chose to take the words he’d selected to awaken her at face value. It was safer that way.
“Some babysitter you are. Sleeping on the job,” he said with a grin.
She frowned as she folded the blanket and threw it over the arm of the sofa. As if it wasn’t bad enough that her hair nearly stood on end every time she and Mark passed each other in the hall, now she was having lace-and-baby’s-breath dreams about him even when she was asleep.
“Where’s Blake, anyway?”
“He’s been in his room for hours.”
“You sure of that?”
She smiled. They’d had a conversation similar to this one not so long ago.
“The stairs squeak.”
“Fair.” He glanced over his shoulder at the stairs, and then his head whipped back around. “Wait. You mean he actually took my advice and went to bed early so he’d be fresh for his first day at the new school?”
Her expression must have been telling because his eyes widened. “You’re kidding. He spent the whole night in his room again?”
Her cheeks felt hot. “Not the whole night.”
He raised a brow, waiting for her to explain.
She blew out a tired breath. “It started out pretty well, but it went downhill fast after I told him this wasn’t the best time for Chelsea to become involved with a guy.”
“I could have seen that one coming.” He crossed the room and took a spot on the other end of the sofa. “Remember, I sat next to them at Thanksgiving dinner.”
“You could have given me the heads-up.”
“Would it have changed anything?”
She shrugged. “Probably not. I still would have thought that during their pregnancies was a bad time for any of the girls to become involved with new guys. They have too many other things to deal with. And Blake would still have called me a hypocrite.”
He held his hands wide, indicating that she’d confirmed his point. “You’re not a hypocrite.”
“I hope not.”
“You’re not.”
“I felt like a real parent tonight.”
“That you are.”
At his quietly offered words of support, their gazes connected, and the spacious room suddenly seemed tiny, disturbingly intimate. Mark still sat in the same spot on the sofa, hadn’t moved an inch closer, and yet she felt as if he’d just gathered her in a hug. She wanted that very thing more than she could remember wanting anything, except maybe for the chance to know her son. Was it possible that God had intended for Mark and her to be together? That He’d used Blake to bring them together?
She peeked over at him, only to find him watching her, waiting, for what she wasn’t certain.
“Are you...uh...ready to put Blake on the big yellow bus for the first time tomorrow?” Did her question sound as ridiculous to him as it had to her?
“Readier than he is, I’m afraid.”
She nodded. She had plenty of experience with the challenge of helping the girls keep up with their studies, but for him, this was all new. “He’ll
do great. You both will. If he’s having trouble with algebra, I can help him when I come over in the evenings.”
“I’m good at math, too.”
“Then we’ll both help him,” she said with a smile.
“We both are.”
She swallowed. Either she was reading messages into everything he said, or he was purposely infusing his words with warmth. She wished with everything inside of her for the second option.
“Uh. Thanks. Well, I’d better get home.” She stood up from the couch and crossed to the entry closet where she’d hung her peacoat.
“Ooo-kay,” he said in that slow way people had of saying that word when things weren’t fine at all.
He thought she was running, but she wasn’t. Not really. She was just delaying a little. She wanted a relationship with Mark, but for there to be a real chance for them to build any sort of future together, she needed to tie up the loose ends of her past. Was it time to stop running, hiding, and take a risk? Drawing in a deep breath, she turned to face Mark, who’d stood up from the sofa but hadn’t followed her.
“When is your next day off?” she asked.
“Thursday.”
“Then Thursday it is.”
Instead of continuing to play along, he tilted his head and waited for her to fill in the blanks.
“My parents are back from Guatemala,” she explained as she stuffed her hands in her pockets. “They wanted to have dinner with me sometime this week.”
“Oh.” He nodded as if he understood. “Sure. I can be home with Blake on Thursday night.”
She shook her head. “That’s not what I meant. I didn’t know whether it was too soon, but anyway, I asked them if I could invite you and Blake to join us.”
“You’re serious? You told them everything?” His eyes had gone wide.
She swallowed. “Well, not everything, but—”
“Enough, right?”
