Ashley put her phone away, then ran her hand through her hair and smiled at him. He coughed, not able to resist gazing at her. She wore yoga pants and a tight T-shirt, which showed off her great figure.
He swallowed. He needed to remind himself that he wouldn’t be interacting much with Ashley tonight, since he would be with Brandon. He didn’t need to worry about getting too close to her. He would just be with her son, the struggling student who said he wanted to be a pediatric oncologist. Just two weeks of tutoring and mentoring, just to get the kid started, and then Aidan would pass him off to somebody else.
“Would you like some pizza, Dr. Lowe?” Ashley gazed up at him. Her hazel eyes caught his.
“Ah, no. I’m fine.”
“Dr. Lowe, meet my uncle,” Brandon said. He pointed to a laptop sitting on the kitchen table. On the screen, a guy that Aidan recognized as one of his grandmother’s former team pitchers was sitting in shirtsleeves, a San Francisco cap on his head.
Aidan sat in the chair that Brandon indicated. He nodded at the guy on the screen. “Hello.”
“Hi, Dr. Lowe.” A woman crowded in next to the guy. She looked about seven or eight months pregnant and was wearing scrubs.
“Hello, Dr. LaValley,” he said.
“I didn’t realize that you’d be coming to the house at night to tutor Brandon.” Her tone was cold.
What could he say to that? Dr. LaValley obviously wasn’t happy about it.
“Dr. Lowe went to St. Bart’s,” Brandon piped up. “He’s going to help me catch up with algebra and stay in school.”
Whoa. The boy was running political inference for him? Aidan glanced at Ashley, but she had crossed her arms and appeared to be silently communicating, sharing looks with her sister.
Both Ashley and her sister noticed him watching them, and they looked away.
There was silence all around. He glanced at Brandon, then at his watch. “So. Where do you study? Here? At the kitchen table?”
“Not usually.” Brandon rubbed his nose. “I work in my room, but I’m eating right now.” To prove his point, he took a bite of the pizza on his plate. “And my uncle has a game. I like to talk to him before he leaves for the ballpark.”
The uncle gave Aidan a look that said, “Is that a problem?”
It was. This kid and his family had no idea of the deck stacked against him. Aidan had once been in Brandon’s shoes, and no one had helped him. He’d had to figure out everything himself. At least Brandon had a mom and a family who cared, however clueless they were about the situation.
Aidan stood. “Look,” he said to the couple on the screen, “good luck with your game tonight. I only have a short time with Brandon, and we need to get going.”
Their mouths opened in surprise, and he was sorry for that, but someone had to give the wake-up call.
“Brandon,” he said, “I need to talk to your mother. Alone.”
“No,” Brandon said. “I want to hear, too.”
Aidan glanced at the computer, waiting for the aunt and uncle to sign off. When the screen went black, he turned to Brandon and Ashley.
Ashley just stood with her arms crossed, giving him a strange look.
Aidan exhaled. “Okay,” he said to the boy, “you’re twelve. Old enough to hear the truth. You’re also old enough to make your own decision. I just left your school, and there’s a room full of twelve-year-olds who are away from home, probably for the first time, and they’re studying together. No one is talking, making internet calls or eating pizza with their mom.”
Brandon clamped his mouth shut. He gave his mother a sullen look, which made Aidan remember that Brandon really wanted to be boarding with the other kids, but his mother preferred him at home with her. Wasn’t that why she’d moved to Boston with him?
“Brandon is not going to board,” Ashley said firmly. “But you’re right. Study time should be designated study time. I agree with you on that.”
“I’m glad you’re on board,” Aidan said, “because I’m going to be frank. You both need to know what you’re up against.”
Ashley’s phone rang. A ringtone like an old-fashioned telephone.
A line appeared in her forehead. “My sister.” She swiped at the screen of her phone, connecting to the call. Her cheeks turned pink as she listened.
Faintly, he heard Dr. LaValley’s raised voice. After a moment, Ashley said, “I’ll call you back later.”
“What’s she saying?” he asked Ashley.
“She asked to speak with you.”
“I don’t mind.”
He held out his hand, a silent request to take her phone and talk with her sister. He’d say what he had to say out loud. Brandon was watching with big eyes and, presumably, big ears.
She sighed and turned her phone over to him, then crossed her arms and cocked a brow. With a sidelong glance at her son, Aidan knew that she was on the same wavelength as him—it wasn’t easy to communicate without letting her son in on what they were thinking, but somehow they were managing.
He took the phone. “Dr. LaValley?”
“Dr. Lowe. You are rude and arrogant, and you are out of line. But I’m not surprised, because you’ve always been rude and arrogant and out of line—”
Ashley gave him an apologetic look. He appreciated that. For her sake, he let her sister continue to say what she had to say. Her voice was strident, telling him all his flaws.
Okay, he got it. But she also had shown him something important.
“Everyone,” he said, “we’re going to have a family conference.” And then he pushed the speaker button so that everybody in the room could hear. “Okay, we need to get Brandon’s entire support system on board.”
He cleared his throat and continued. “Your nephew is a lucky kid,” he said, gazing at both Ashley and Brandon as he spoke into the phone to Elizabeth. “He’s got you and your husband and his mom, all in his corner, all helping him out.” Aidan hadn’t had any of that. “He’ll be okay. He’s smart, and from what I see, he’s a good communicator, like his mom.”
He met Ashley’s eyes, just as she was exhaling in surprise. Her hazel eyes fastened on his in gratitude. He guessed that in her family, maybe her younger sister got all the credit.
“We know he’s smart!” Dr. LaValley snapped.
So was Dr. LaValley. But from his memory of her, she wasn’t a great communicator.
He shrugged, not taking anything she’d said personally. “You all need to know that I have no pull with the school. Neither does my grandmother. If Brandon doesn’t pass his classes, he will not be allowed to return next term. It’s a serious threat.” He stared at Brandon, who looked genuinely shocked. All the blood had drained from his face. “He needs to decide if this is important enough to him to take it seriously,” Aidan continued. “To prioritize it over watching baseball games.”
“But...but...” Brandon began to stutter out a protest at the same time Dr. LaValley was groaning on the other end of the phone.
“Quiet, please,” Ashley said to both of them. “This is important, and you need to listen.”
“Ashley,” Elizabeth began. “Think about what we talked about.”
Aidan had no idea what they’d talked about, but whatever it was, Ashley was driven enough to make a stand. “I’m Brandon’s mother,” she said into the phone. “I will handle it on this end.”
She glanced at them all—him, Brandon and the phone, with her sister on the other end. “You know what,” she continued. “I think Dr. Lowe has said everything that needs to be said. I’m going to sign off now, Lisbeth, and I hope that you and Jon have a great night.”
Then she pushed the button, ending the call, then turned the phone off and stashed it in a drawer.
Wow, Aidan thought. He gave her a smile of encouragement.
She crossed her arms and stared hard at Aidan. “So let’s continue. What is the situation with Brandon’s tests? Tell us the absolute truth.”
He spread his hands. “Well, you signed a release allowing me to see his scores. I assume you’re okay with discussing them in front of Brandon.”
She nodded. “Yes, please.”
To Brandon he said, “It was a requirement of allowing the school to find you a tutor. Although honestly, in our case, I’m more of a mentor than a tutor. I’m not a trained teacher.”
Ashley leveled a gaze at him. “We understand. Speak plainly to us, please. We’re open to hearing what you recommend.”
Aidan sucked in a breath. Brandon’s lips were twisting. He moved closer to his mother, and she put her arm around his shoulder.
It blew Aidan’s mind how close they were. He had been so alone. He’d always been alone, really. He’d never known the extent of it.
It just made him want to help them even more, however he could, for as long as he was here. Just a couple of weeks. He could get them pretty well started in that time.
But the final success was going to be up to Brandon. Aidan couldn’t do his work for him, and he needed to learn that difficult fact now.
“Look,” Aidan said to Brandon. “I know how hard St. Bart’s is. Truthfully, I barely survived the place. I almost flunked out my first year, and I didn’t have anyone to help me. I had all the expectations of the world on me...” Aw, hell. Brandon didn’t need to know this. This wasn’t about him; it was about the boy. He cleared his throat and changed tack. “Frankly, the math admissions aptitude pretest shows that you’re at the very bottom of your class. You did okay in your English and history tests, but—”
“His aunt helped him with those,” Ashley murmured. “She loves literature and history.”
Aidan nodded. “His science is passable for now, though he’ll need to stick with it hard, but math.” He shook his head. “What happened with math?” he asked bluntly. “He’s starting behind most of the other students.” To Brandon, he said, “Math is cumulative. You get behind just a little bit, and it’s very difficult to catch up. Trust me—I know.”
“Math is stupid,” Brandon muttered. “I don’t need it to be a doctor.”
Aidan shook his head. “Math and science are key foundations for medicine. I’m sure your aunt told you that.”
Brandon’s lower lip stuck out.
“Your aunt Lisbeth helped you with math,” Ashley said. “I remember she sent you a workbook. I heard you going over the problem sets with her over the phone.”
Brandon scowled.
“She did, didn’t she?” she pressed.
“There was an answer key in the back,” Brandon admitted.
“Brandon!” Ashley looked appalled. “It’s my fault. I didn’t pay close enough attention.” She stared helplessly at Aidan. “Honestly, math...well, it intimidates me. It’s like a foreign language.”
He smiled. “I remember when I felt the same way.”
“Seriously?”
“I had to teach myself. And then one day, it clicked and it all made sense.”
“Well...” Ashley shook her head as she turned toward Brandon. “I’m hoping that will happen for Brandon, too.”
“He’s capable,” Aidan said. “The school gave him an intelligence test as part of his entrance exam, and his raw scores are off the charts.”
“Really?” Brandon asked, clearly pleased. “Cool!”
Aidan gave him a stern look. “But in your case, I think your natural talent has probably hindered you, discipline-wise. You never learned study skills, did you? You were able to skate by with a minimum of practice and focus, weren’t you?”
Brandon looked warily at him. Aidan doubted that any adult had spoken so bluntly to him before.
Well, he had to hear it. He was old enough to be making his own choices and decisions. Aidan had had to learn this fact, too, many years ago. At some point, childhood ended.
“You have an important choice to make,” Aidan said plainly. “If you want me to work with you, you have to be ready at seven o’clock. That means you have to be done with dinner with your mom. You should have your other homework finished, and that means you have to work during your study periods at school. You can’t be goofing off with the other boys.”
From Brandon’s pink cheeks, Aidan knew he’d hit on the guilty truth. It had been easy to see that first day when Aidan had met him in the cafeteria.
But there was more Aidan needed to say, and it wouldn’t be what Brandon, or maybe Ashley, wanted to hear. Or an easy choice for them to make.
“Another thing,” Aidan said. “You can’t be up late watching baseball games on the West Coast. Or any coast at all.” He held up his hand to Brandon’s protest. “We’re just getting started here. Show me an area in your room where you can focus on your work.”
Brandon glanced at his mother. Ashley gave him a nod. “Show him. This has to be your decision to make. I can’t do the work for you.”
Aidan gave her credit for that. A lot of people did do the work for their kids. They made the calls, did the legwork, wrote the checks. He’d seen it in his orthopedics practice. College-age student athletes who couldn’t set up their own rehab sessions without their parents coordinating everything for them.
Brandon’s thin shoulders sagged as he led Aidan into a room at the end of the corridor, off the kitchen. Across the hall was a second doorway, shut. Probably Ashley’s bedroom. He wouldn’t let himself think about that.
Brandon’s room looked like an electronics store, with distractions galore.
Ashley had followed them. She stood to the side, her arms crossed, expression cloudy. But she was listening to Aidan. Not fighting what he had to say. That was a start.
“Do you want to thrive at St. Bartholomew’s?” Aidan asked Brandon gravely.
“Well, yeah...”
“Then you’ve got to give some things up.”
Brandon shook his head. “I’m not giving up the ball boy job.” He set his chin.
Aidan’s resolution flagged. He did have some sense of survival. Gram would kill him if he shut down her best fundraiser and kept him from her ballpark. “Weekends only,” Aidan relented. “One home game per weekend, period, that’s all you can handle for now.”
“That’s all I do anyway.” Brandon looked like he was grinding his teeth. “And what if I get my math skills up in a week or two? Then I won’t need you at all. Then I can go back to as I was.”
“Nope. Sorry. Won’t happen that fast.” He glanced at Ashley. She was nodding slightly, backing him up.
“I have to go to the hospital on Sundays.” Brandon looked like he was seething. “I visit the kids in the cancer wards. The Sunshine Club.”
Aidan couldn’t tell if Brandon was saying this genuinely, or if he was arguing for the sake of arguing because he was upset. “The kids will understand if you need some time off for a few months to take care of yourself and get your studies in order.”
Brandon glared at him.
“You need to take care of yourself, Brandon, the same as a sick child might. Your situation is serious. You would tell a sick patient to take all the time they need, and so should you.”
“I’m not sick!”
“No, you’re not. But you’re in danger of not being asked back next semester. It’ll happen sooner than you think, and when it does, there’s no going back. Fix yourself and learn to study now, while you can.”
The boy’s eyes widened. Suddenly, he looked every bit the scared preteen that he was.
“Dr. Lowe,” Ashley said in a warning voice. “Maybe you should get started with the lesson?”
She didn’t understand. This was his lesson. He might not be a qualified tutor, but he knew he could be a damn good mento
r. Aidan stalked over to Brandon’s dresser and reached behind it, feeling for the plug. He found it and unplugged it from the electrical source. He disconnected the rest of the cords from the back. Then he lifted the television monitor and turned to Ashley. “Is there a closet where we can lock this up?”
She gaped at him.
“No!” Brandon said. “I need to watch the baseball game—”
But Aidan had turned and walked into the corridor. Ashley caught up with him and dashed ahead. She put her hand up, and he stopped obediently.
“You’re overstepping,” she said. “You’re making a good point, but you don’t need to be so pushy and nasty about it.”
“Pushy and nasty?” Maybe he should be glad she hadn’t said “rude.”
“You will do it kindly,” Ashley told him. “You will treat us as you would like to be treated, not necessarily as you were treated.”
She gave him a knowing look, and he had to swallow at her wisdom. Nobody had ever put it to him quite like that before.
He put the television set down on the floor. Then he turned to Brandon, who had followed them out to the hallway.
“Please,” Aidan said to the boy. “Your mom and I need to hold your electronics for you, just for a few weeks, while you’re learning some new study skills.”
Brandon glanced at his mother, then back at Aidan. “So you’re taking my television away—is that it?”
“Yes, Brandon,” Ashley said softly.
Aidan watched her walk across the apartment and then disappear into a room behind the kitchen. There was noise as she did something he couldn’t see.
Brandon scowled, his thin arms crossed. The two of them just stared at each other for a moment.
Ashley came out holding an empty laundry basket. “We’ll keep his electronics in here,” she said. “Just for a few weeks, until he learns to study without distraction.”
Aidan saw how much easier it was, having her support. “Brandon, will you follow me to your room, please?”
Brandon scowled, but he followed.
The Good Mom Page 10
