by Carol Ross
Shay turned and reached behind her. She plucked some tissues out of the box on the end table and handed one to Janie and used another to dab at her own eyes.
“I don’t know, Janie. I lost a baby more than a decade ago and only recently do I really feel...acceptance or something that finally allows me to talk about it? Grief is so...difficult.”
Janie knew this to be true, although Shay’s situation had a lot to do with forgiving Jonah and accepting her inability to have children as well as dealing with the miscarriage.
“The counselor said to try not to push him through the stages of grief, but I think we may need to readdress some things. And I...” Janie felt a sob well up within her. “I dread that, Shay. It’s so painful. I don’t want to dredge up those feelings if I don’t need to. And I know this is going to sound weird but somehow, something about Aidan seems to be doing that—stirring things up.”
* * *
AIDAN HADN’T INTENDED to stir anything. Quite the opposite—he’d been hoping to smooth things over. While talking to Drum about the interview, he’d seen Janie walking toward the bakery...and ordering the replacement Boston cream pie had seemed like a stroke of genius.
He’d even kicked himself for not thinking of the idea sooner. Now he wished he’d never thought of it at all. Obviously he was missing something vitally important where that cake was concerned. But apparently he wasn’t going to get the answer from Janie—or her guard dog of a cousin, who had escorted him out as if she’d suspected him of trying to steal the candlesticks.
It was almost comical the way he kept messing up with her, not that a social misstep was unusual for him, but this situation with Janie seemed extreme even for him.
Aidan had worked so hard in his youth to become socially proficient—to be liked. He’d desperately wanted to be liked, and even though he accomplished that much more easily now as an adult, it still wasn’t effortless. He avoided crowds and certain social situations and he liked that his job ensured that he spent a minimum amount of time with people. Of course, he also didn’t much care anymore what people thought of him, which he supposed was rather ironic, especially since he suddenly found himself caring again—very much so—about what Janie thought.
His phone rang and he looked at the display—Laurel Davidson from the Rankins Press. No doubt calling him about the interview—at least in that he felt confident that he’d finally done something right where Janie was concerned.
“Hey, Laurel, what’s up?”
CHAPTER EIGHT
JANIE HURRIED INTO the Rankins high school, took a right and jogged down the length of the hall. She exhaled a sigh of relief as the clock above the library door showed her to be right on time. She’d thought she was going to be late because MacGyver had somehow gotten ahold of a bottle of cold medicine for babies and she’d had to rush him to the vet, not knowing how much he’d managed to ingest.
Thankfully Emily had been able to bring Reagan to this science club meeting. Emily and Reagan were science buddies anyway, sharing a love for the subject and for trivia in general, as well as a mutual admiration for, and an unaccountably broad knowledge of, the former president that Reagan’s father had named him after.
Janie walked through the door to find more parents and kids in attendance than she’d ever seen at a meeting for any club or activity, with the exception of athletics. Most people were already seated at tables but a few were still milling around. The turnout was undoubtedly due to the incredible prize and scholarship opportunities up for grabs this year. Ms. Treyborn had only been a teacher in Rankins for two years, but her passion for science was already renowned.
Janie saw Reagan waving to her from a table off to one side of the room in front of the periodical section. Confusion and surprise mingled uncomfortably within her when she saw that it wasn’t Emily seated next to Regan. Janie did her best to keep the smile glued to her face as she approached the table where her son was happily chatting away with Aidan Hollings.
“Hey, guys.”
“Hi, Mom.”
“Um, what’s up? Where’s Emily?”
Aidan had this slow way of smiling, she’d noticed, as if he had tons of time and not a care in the world. Janie knew this shouldn’t bother her but she couldn’t help it—it did. It somehow served to emphasize how many problems she did have, and how little time to deal with them all.
His eyes seemed to assess her. “Emily isn’t feeling well, so I volunteered to bring Reagan. I hope that’s okay?”
Janie eyed him speculatively. She felt torn between appreciating this generous action toward Reagan and Emily, and selfishly wishing him gone. She’d had a long day—selfishness won out.
“Sure, thanks so much for bringing him. But since I’m here now, you can go ahead and take off and that would be fine. You probably have other things you’d like to do.”
Aidan shrugged a shoulder and glanced at a neighboring table. Janie followed his gaze to where the evil spawn Harmon Vetcher was seated with his father, Marv. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay.”
Reagan looked so excited by the prospect that Janie couldn’t force herself to object. She slid into a seat beside Reagan as Ms. Treyborn began to speak in her curiously perky way.
“Well, I’m superexcited to see so many students and parents here tonight. We’re going to go over some of the requirements for the science expo—dos and don’ts, if you will. But first—for those of you who haven’t heard—I have some very exciting news.”
Jacinda Treyborn was a transplant from the lower forty-eight who had admittedly come to Alaska after seeing one of those reality shows about Alaskan men “looking for love.” Janie was surprised she hadn’t found it; she was young, pretty and enthusiastic about teaching. Reagan adored her and assured Janie that Ms. Treyborn was “wicked smart.”
“This year, thanks to a generous donation by Cam-Field Oil & Mineral Corporation, we are participating in the acclaimed Science Is Our Future Organization’s national competition. Our participation in SOFO means winning entries will be eligible to go on to the state competition for a chance to win more scholarships and prizes. If any entries place in the top three at state, they will proceed to nationals.”
Janie didn’t think it was her imagination that Ms. Treyborn looked hopefully in Reagan’s direction while relaying this information.
She went on to explain that in order to compete, students had to strictly follow the guidelines set out by the national program to the letter. A high school student began passing around a handout of the extensive rules and regulations.
Reagan’s eyes were wide with excitement—clearly his brain was already set on the task. Janie imagined she could hear all that gray matter humming with possibilities.
“An exciting twist this year will also be the addition of the oral presentation. Along with the normal booth displays, students are required to do a ten-minute presentation of their project to a panel of judges—which will include two national representatives from SOFO—as well as to the audience.”
As if she didn’t already have enough anxiety in her life, now she had to worry about her socially awkward son demonstrating his project to a roomful of people? Perfect.
Janie picked a handout off the stack and passed the pile to the next table. Ms. Treyborn finished up her speech by reminding everyone that their proposals were due in one week. She would approve their ideas, and students had six weeks after that to complete work on their projects. The science expo would take place on the second to last day of school at the VFW hall.
“Don’t forget there are cookies and punch on the back table there.” Jacinda patted her tummy and mimed a long drink from an invisible cup. “And I will be available for questions along with last year’s high school winner, Hunter Keif.” She gestured at the student now standing beside her.
Reagan immediately began chatterin
g to Aidan. He didn’t seem concerned about the demonstration, so that was good. But then again Reagan didn’t really grasp the extent of his own social shortcomings, which could also be good sometimes, although nearly as often it seemed to make matters worse.
Janie rose to her feet. People were already mingling and talking excitedly about the competition. She made her way over to the refreshments, smiling and greeting people. She snagged a few snickerdoodles and two cups of sweet but surprisingly tasty fruit punch.
She headed back toward the table to find Aidan and Reagan in discussion with Ms. Treyborn. Well, Aidan appeared to be listening while Jacinda chattered excitedly.
Janie handed Reagan a cup and a cookie, watched Jacinda tug on the neckline of her blouse and thought, Okay, Jacinda, not in front of my eleven-year-old...
“Janie, you didn’t tell me you knew Dr. Hollings. You’ve been holding out on me.” She squeezed Janie’s arm like she’d failed to inform her that a gigantic meteorite was hurtling toward the earth.
“Oh, sorry, Jacinda—I didn’t realize it was big news. And I don’t really know Dr. Hollings all that well.”
“But you’re related somehow, right?” Janie surmised that Jacinda desperately wanted the answer to be yes.
“No, not really. Dr. Hollings is Emily’s brother—so that makes him my brother Bering’s brother-in-law. That’s kind of a mouthful, isn’t it?”
“And, that’s practically related, right?” A pair of hopeful baby blues latched on to Aidan. “Um, so, Aidan, like I was saying, if you need anything at all while you’re here you come and see me. I will be your science go-to girl.” She curled a talon-like grasp around Aidan’s forearm. Janie couldn’t help but think of the eagles that flocked to the salmon spawning grounds each year and latched on to the fish, trying desperately to fly off with a lot more than they could handle.
Janie lifted her cup for a sip, mostly to hide her snicker.
Aidan glanced down at Jacinda’s hand. “Thank you so much, uh...Jacinda, right? I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Is there any chance you would be willing to speak to my science classes? Or perhaps to the entire school?”
Janie might have missed the subtle tension emanating from Aidan if she hadn’t been watching, if she didn’t have experience with this herself via her son.
Aidan smiled tightly. “Send me an email with the details of what you have in mind, and we’ll see.”
“Excellent.” Jacinda beamed as she patted Reagan’s shoulder. “Reagan, no pressure, but I’m counting on you to give the sixth grade a good showing this year.”
Aidan watched her walk away, a smile playing on his lips. Was he embarrassed, or flattered, or perhaps even interested? Janie couldn’t tell for sure.
But then he turned a different smile on Janie, a wider smile. His eyes met hers and he added a little head shake, like they were sharing some kind of private joke. Her pulse accelerated and she felt her cheeks warm. She immediately reminded herself that she wasn’t interested in sharing jokes or anything else with him, for that matter.
Janie cleared her throat. “Reagan, we should really get going. Thank you so much, Aidan, for bringing Reagan here tonight. Reagan, did you thank Aidan?”
“Yes, I did. But, Mom, we actually need to give Aidan a ride home—to Uncle Bering’s.”
Janie blinked. “What? Why?”
Aidan explained, “Bering dropped us off on his drive over to Bradbury’s. He needed to pick up some supplies so he suggested that you bring us back to their house. He said you had to get Gareth anyway. And it would give us a chance to talk about Reagan helping me out with my work. I’d appreciate it if he could start as soon as possible. I’m pretty worthless with this hand right now.” He held it aloft, as if Janie needed a reminder.
Janie had no excuse; she couldn’t decline to give him a ride home after he’d brought her son here. She hadn’t figured out how to break it to either of them that Reagan wasn’t going to be helping him out. Probably because she hadn’t been able to come up with a good reason—she couldn’t very well tell him that she just didn’t like how...intrusive he’d become.
“Absolutely.”
Reagan and Aidan chatted most of the trip about the science expo and Aidan’s bee study. Janie had to admit that the study Aidan was taking part in did seem kind of interesting.
She asked, “Will you be studying honeybees, too? Or just bumblebees? That honeybee colony collapse disorder is pretty scary, right?”
Aidan glanced at her, surprise evident on his face.
“Yes, even a mom like me has heard of colony collapse,” she remarked dryly.
“No, no—it’s not that... And no, we’re not studying the European honeybee—it isn’t native. This study is focusing on Alaska’s native bee species, which are thought to be in decline. Other states are heading up similar studies to assess the health of their native bee populations as well. The data will all be compiled and a conclusion issued at the study’s completion.”
“European honeybees are the only pollinator of almonds, did you know that, Mom?”
“I believe you’ve mentioned it, Reagan.”
“There’s a researcher who has linked CCD to a certain class of pesticides. It’s possible he may have figured out the cause, but some of the chemical companies are doing their best to muddy the waters. And, of course, there are a multitude of other opinions and theories...”
Janie pulled up to Bering and Emily’s house. Reagan immediately chimed from the backseat, “Mom, Emily made pies today. Is it okay if I go in and have a piece?”
“Sure, hon.”
Reagan bolted out of the car while she gathered her bag.
Aidan sat in the passenger seat watching her and making no move to get out of the car. She was suddenly struck with the feeling that he wasn’t quite as laid-back as he appeared.
He asked, “Could we talk?”
A jolt of nervous tension zipped through her. “Um, sure, I guess. What about?”
“About Reagan.”
“What about him?” Janie could hear the defensive tone in her voice even as she wondered what Reagan had said or done. He didn’t have the best social filter.
“Your son is brilliant.”
Janie smiled tightly. “Yes, I know.”
“Does he have trouble at school?”
Where was this going? “Only in art—he doesn’t like art class. He thinks the grading is too subjective. But his grades are perfect.”
“No, I mean socially.”
Janie wanted to laugh out loud. Reagan had exactly one close friend his age, almost his age. Elena Stanton—and she was a year ahead of him in seventh grade. Janie lived in fear of the day when those typical boy-girl differences would take over and Elena would leave Reagan in the dust. But why would any of this be Aidan’s concern?
Janie eyed him warily. “Why are you asking?”
* * *
AIDAN COULDN’T STOP himself from asking. He knew this wasn’t any of his business. But that wasn’t really true; because he felt like any kid being bullied was, and would always be, his business. He’d never wanted to hurt a child in his entire adult life—until he’d overheard Harmon Vetcher tormenting Reagan. Janie needed to be made aware of the problem. Hell, so did the school’s administrator and perhaps local law enforcement.
“I assume you know this Harmon Vetcher kid?”
Aidan watched Janie’s mossy green eyes light with fear. “Yes.”
“That kid is a snake in the grass.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that as well. What happened?”
“He didn’t know that I was with Reagan. And Regan doesn’t know I heard, but I did. He threatened Reagan. He told him he would pee in the toilet and shove his head in it if Reagan beat him in this project. He also said, and I quote, ‘Your big bro
ther won’t be around next year to protect you and I can’t tell you how much I look forward to that.’
“I looked around to say something—do something—but I didn’t know exactly how to proceed. I wanted to grab the little creep by the neck, but I didn’t want to make more trouble for Reagan. I didn’t want to embarrass him by letting him know that I heard.”
Janie dipped her head and placed a hand over her forehead. She didn’t seem surprised, which confirmed his suspicion that the problem was a chronic one. Aidan could see the tension radiating off of her. He couldn’t imagine what that would feel like, someone threatening your child. Aidan knew very well what it was like to be on the receiving end of those threats, however. He had learned to cope eventually but school had been a long and difficult road for him.
“That kid is a monster. I can see it. I...”
“Believe me—I know. You what?”
“I have some experience with this kind of thing. What are you going to do?”
Janie gripped the steering wheel. “I’ve talked to the administration. I’ve talked to his parents. I don’t know what else I can do.”
Plenty, Aidan wanted to say. Instead, he asked, “What do they say? The principal? His parents?”
“The administration has talked to Harmon and Riley—Riley Shriver is one of Harmon’s minions—and their parents. There’s nothing else I can do unless they actually follow through on one of their threats. And Harmon’s dad is a police officer here in town. He’s a piece of work and a bully in his own right. His favorite line is, and I quote, ‘Boys will be boys.’”
“Has he ever acted on any of these threats?”
Janie nodded. “Yes, once—that I know about. Gareth intervened. He actually...” She shook her head. “Harmon is scared of Gareth, and Riley follows Harmon’s lead, so Reagan has been relatively safe—physically at least. But I am worried about next year—they will be in different buildings at the school with different lunches and break times. And Reagan’s one friend, Elena—she always sticks up for him and kids listen to her. She’s very bright too, but much better than Reagan at socializing. Though she’s also in an older kids’ class, so she won’t be there to help, either.”
