“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t call the police right now,” I whispered hoarsely.
Ben waved his hands in front of him, striding forward again. I moved an equal space back, like we were attached to each other, each on opposite ends of an invisible rod.
“Please, Zoe.” He slid his gaze over to Ryker, who was at his favorite activity. Legos. “I can’t afford any trouble.” He stared off, then wiped a hand over his face and turned back to me. “He’s all I’ve got.”
I glanced at the boy, then at him. “He’s your…?”
“He’s my son. Or stepson, or something.”
What? It was like hearing an angel was spawned by the devil himself. And how did he not know how Ryker was related to him?
He took another cautious step forward, swinging his arms out to his sides, palms facing me. “I swear, I had no idea you were Ryke’s teacher.”
“You mean to tell me,” I hissed. Then I took a breath and tried to calm down, lowering my voice even more. “You want me to believe that in all the cities of the world, in all the schools in Denver alone, your son, or stepson, or whatever,” I waved my hand impatiently in his direction, “just happened to end up in my class?”
He stared at me. “Yeah, I wouldn’t believe that either.” He lowered himself wearily into the chair I’d set up for him, not knowing at the time it would be him who came to see me. He leaned back, stretching his legs out in front of him, folding his arms behind his head, and staring at the ceiling. He switched to running a hand along his jawline and laughed.
I leaned on my desk, crossing my arms. “I, for one, don’t find this humorous.”
“Nor do I.” He changed positions, swiping his ball cap off and flipping it over and over as he leaned his forearms on his knees. “Nor do I.” He raised his gaze to the sky again. “Un-fucking-believable.” Then he jolted and quickly twisted around. I followed his gaze. Ryker played with his Lego set, oblivious to the drama across the brightly colored carpet. Ben glanced at me and held his hat out. “Sorry about the language.”
Ben Oatam was apologizing to me for cussing? What sort of alternate dimension was I living in?
I exhaled. Looking from Ryker to Ben. “Do you have any proof he’s even your son?”
“Huh?” He frowned, knitting his brow.
I huffed, my earlier fear morphing into frustration. “His paperwork only lists a—” I reached back and picked up a sheet of paper from the middle of my desk. “—Angel Rodriguez.”
He gazed off to the side. “It should be Oatam. Angel Oatam. But she sent in the paperwork months ago.” He returned his gaze to me. “She’s my wife, sort of.”
“She’s your wife, ‘sort of” and he’s your son ‘or something?’ What the hell is that supposed to mean, Ben?”
He dropped his gaze, fiddling with his cap again. “It’s too hard to explain.”
“Well, I’m afraid you’ll need to.” He didn’t say anything. I studied him. “And you claim you didn’t know I was Ryker’s teacher. Did you never read any of the paperwork I sent home in his backpack?”
“I…. I’ve been distracted.”
“You’ve been distracted? You’ve been distracted by something more important than your son’s education?”
He sprang to his feet and I tensed. “Geez, Zoe. It’s kindergarten. It’s not like it’s grad school or something.” He turned his back to me, hands on his hips. We sat in silence while I figured out what to say next. He exhaled, finally, and slowly swung around to face me. “No. You’re right. I haven’t given him the—” To my astonishment, he became choked up. He swallowed, blinking rapidly. “I haven’t given him the attention he deserves.” He glanced in Ryker’s direction, then back at me. “But, I’m trying, Zoe. I really am.”
You’re trying?
He took his seat again. “You’re right. I owe you an explanation.” Taking a deep breath, he began. “After…” he made circles in the air with his hat, “…you know. What happened between us.” He stopped. “After the assault. After I assaulted you—”
I was so shocked by his admitting it, I almost lost the rest of what he said.
“My family moved to Denver. To put it behind us. Get a fresh start. Maybe try and do things right for a change.” He lifted his head and gazed off toward the windows. “I met Angel outside of one of my group therapy sessions.” He smiled a little. “Her victims’ therapy was before my Domestic Violence Group.”
“Victims’ therapy?”
He nodded. His jaw tightened. “Angel was gang raped by some kids on the block when she was fourteen. And, as if that weren’t bad enough, again when she was twenty.”
I spoke without thinking. “Holy shit.”
We both looked at Ryker, who had picked up some cars and was playing with them on the carpet.
“Sorry.”
He waved it off.
“That’s awful.”
“Yeah. Sorry bastards are in jail now.” He gazed at me. “I know what you’re thinking.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“You’re thinking I belong there, too. That I’m a hypocrite. And you’re right.” He sighed, his shoulders slumping, then stared at the hat again. “But I didn’t do…. It doesn’t matter. What I did was bad enough.”
Hearing Ryker padding up to Ben, I didn’t speak. Ryker held out a car, and the tire that came off it. “Daddy. Fix it.”
“Did it break off?” Ben took the pieces and worked the tire back on the axel, then handed it to Ryker. “There you go, buddy.”
“Thanks.” He ran off and Ben watched him with a smile on his face, but it faded.
“His mom was a special woman,” he said without turning back at first. “Ryker…he’s the result of one of those rapes. She kept him. She kept him even after she almost hemorrhaged to death from the beating they gave her. Shit.” He put a hand over his mouth and a few tears squirted out of his bloodshot eyes. He covered his face with his hands. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. After a few seconds he seemed more composed. He searched around. “Would you have any Kleenex?”
I jumped up. The box sat on my desk behind me. I held it out and he withdrew a couple. He blew his nose.
“So, we met in the hallway. I thought she was looking at me. She thought I was looking at her. And one day, the group coordinator didn’t show up, so I asked her out to lunch.” He smiled. “I never thanked that guy.”
“So, if Angel is Ryker’s mom, why didn’t she come tonight?”
He worked his jaw back and forth, his eyes filling with tears again. “Because…on the day of our wedding, some guy, drunk off his butt, crashed his car into our limo when it was parked outside the courthouse.” He got up to throw his Kleenex away and I tensed as he approached, but didn’t move. He didn’t seem to notice. “We were about to take off for the reception, but Angel forgot her flowers. I went back to get them, and as I came down the courthouse steps. I saw this car turn onto the drive out front at a high speed. Then he just…rammed into the back of the limo, pushing it into several other parked cars.” He said it like he still couldn’t believe it. “He was protesting—get this, he killed three people—Angel, the limo driver, and his own daughter, who was in the back of his car but wasn’t wearing a seatbelt—he did all that…because he didn’t like his tax bill. A friggin’ tax bill.” He waved a hand. “It’s beyond comprehension.” He paused.
“The driver was killed instantly. Angel wasn’t as lucky. It took her several days of suffering.” He inhaled through his nose, pausing in his narration.
“I got this little beaut,” he gestured to the side of his neck, “when I tried to get Ryker out of the wreckage. His screams came out of all that twisted metal. I just tore crap away, bending pieces back, and I guess I didn’t pay close enough attention and caught a sharp edge.” He glanced at Ryker. “They said it was a miracle he found the one tiny pocket of the limo that didn’t collapse.”
I remembered reading about it in the paper and feeling bad for the unnamed groom, not knowing
it was Ben.
He stared off toward the windows again. “Ya know, I thought we would spend the rest of our lives together. I just didn’t know her life would be over within minutes of our vows.” His mouth hung open, and his eyes moved back and forth.
When he didn’t continue, I prompted, “Ben?”
“Huh? Oh.” He rubbed a hand over his face and left it over his mouth and chin briefly. “So, that happened a week before school started. I’ve tried to pull myself together, but…” he glanced over at Ryker, “if it weren’t for him, I don’t think I could have made it through that. Not that I’m through it. It’s an ongoing process.” He smiled. “My therapist told me that.” He paused, then took another deep breath as Ryker ran over holding the car and wheel again. “Didn’t stay on, huh, buddy?” He messed with it, then looked at me. “You wouldn’t have any Super Glue, would you?”
I walked around my desk and fished some out of a drawer while he talked. “I didn’t file the adoption papers the right way, so that’s why Ryker isn’t officially my son yet. Hold on. We’re getting it,” he said to Ryker. I handed Ben the Super Glue and he set to work. “Damn. Glued my fingers together.” He laughed. Then Ryker lunged at it and he grabbed the car with his other hand to hold it up. “No. Wait a minute.” Ryker took another swipe at it. “Wait, buddy. You don’t want stuck fingers like me, do ya?” He ripped them apart. “Oww.” Ryker laughed. “Oh, you think that’s funny?” He tickled his son’s tummy and Ryker gave one of the big belly laughs of his I loved. Ben brought the car down and examined it. “I think it’s dry.” He handed it to Ryker. “Go play.” Ryker peered at him quizzically. Ben jerked his head in the direction of the construction area and Ryker ran off. Ben rubbed his finger and thumb together. “That really hurt.” He shook it. “Anyway…that’s my sob story. You didn’t ask me here to hear that. What concerns do you have about Ryke?”
After all he’d been through, I hesitated to tell him, but I needed to get to the bottom of it. “Well…have you ever noticed any problems with his hearing?”
He jumped to his feet. “I knew it. I knew it! I told my mom he must not have heard her, but she thought he was misbehaving.” He glanced at the play area. “He’s a good kid. He wouldn’t ignore her.”
A thought crossed my mind. “You know…I don’t want to dredge up any hurtful memories, but…”
He nodded, his face attentive. “Go on.”
“I’m assuming the car accident…it was loud?”
“Incredibly loud.”
“Do you think that might have damaged Ryker’s hearing? When did you notice his difficulties?”
“You know…now that you say it, I don’t think he started having problems until after the accident.” He put two fingers to his temple. “Maybe you’re right. So what do I do? Can I help him in any way?”
“Well, I suggest taking him to a specialist. They can run some tests and give you a better indication of what you’re up against.”
“Okay. Do you have any suggestions of who to take him to?”
I nodded. “I can get you a list.” We didn’t have a list. But I figured he had enough on his plate, I could search for a few names for him.
“That would be great.” We both looked at Ryker. He rolled a car in each hand over the carpet. As we watched, he slammed them together and the tire came off again, flying through the air and landing somewhere by the windows. “Ryke!”
He spoke over his shoulder. “We’ll get you a new one.” Addressing his son again, he said, “Ryker. That’s too rough. You can’t—”
Ryker lifted his head. Tears were streaming down his face.
“Oh, hey. Come here, bud. I didn’t mean to yell.”
Ryker ran to him, and Ben scooped him up in his arms. He cried harder.
Ben turned to me with a helpless expression on his face. “Hey. What’s wrong?”
“I miss Mommy.”
Ben closed his eyes, squeezing Ryker tighter. “Oh. I know. I do, too, honey. I do, too.” Ryker buried his face in Ben’s chest. Ben swung from side to side, rocking his son.
The image broke my heart. I suddenly felt like I was intruding on them.
After a few moments, Ben looked at me. “Do you think maybe we could finish this discussion over email? It’s been a long day for both of us.”
I didn’t hesitate. “Of course. I can send you that list and when you get the test results, we can set up another conference.”
“Thank you. I would really appreciate that.” He leaned back to speak to Ryker. “What do you say we get us some ice cream on the way home?” Ryker nodded against Ben’s chest. Ben set him on his feet. “Go get your jacket.” Ryker bolted off. The prospect of ice cream seemed to rejuvenate him.
Ben stuck his hands in his pockets, shrugging a shoulder sheepishly. “I know I probably shouldn’t do that. I’m sure there are healthier ways to comfort him.”
I shrugged. “You’ve got to do what gets you through the day at this point. No one can blame you for that.”
He peered down at Ryker, who had returned and tugged on the ends of Ben’s jacket.
“I have to go potty.”
“Oh, okay.” He took his hand. “Is there a restroom…?”
“Turn left out the door. It’s about halfway down the hall, on your left.”
“Thanks. And thanks for listening, Zoe. You certainly don’t owe me any favors, so I appreciate it.”
I nodded, not quite sure how to respond.
Ryker yanked harder. “Come on. I’ve got to go.”
“Okay.” They walked toward the door. “Thanks.”
I took a seat behind my desk again.
This had been one of the most bizarre days of my life.
Cutest boy in the world was the son of the man who had given me nightmares for years. And, though struggling with his loss, that man seemed to be a pretty decent dad. Just the idea of him loving someone enough to propose to them—that was crazy. But Ben truly appeared to have changed.
“First Nick kisses me, then this,” I said as I gathered my belongings. Although, if I were being honest with myself, the kiss was mutual from the start.
When I get home, that Jameson’s is coming out. …If any is left.
As I locked my classroom door, Ben and Ryker stepped out into the hallway. They were talking and knuckled each other before turning with the sound of the keys. They waved simultaneously, then Ben squatted like he was playing Leap Frog, and Ryker climbed onto his back. He had a bit of a struggle with his short legs, but Ben reached back to give him a nudge and help him up. They walked along in front of me as we exited the building. I shook my head, still in disbelief, but I had to smile at the image of the son on his father’s back.
Chapter 9
Zoe
My heart rate accelerated as I turned my back to the parking lot to lock the side door, but I resisted the urge to spin around. Not being able to see Ben made me nervous, but if we were going to help Ryker, we’d have to work as a team, and I couldn’t do that well with my guard constantly up. Shouldering my canvas bag, full of work for the evening, I watched Ben as I walked to my car. His van was to the left of my Mazda in the mini side lot, a half dozen or so spots down. I could hear them exchanging words—Ben’s deep voice mingling with Ryker’s sweet, small one. Ben opened the van’s side door, and Ryker scrambled up.
I glanced around. Only one other vehicle was parked in the larger lot connected to the lot we were in, and the parking area to my left was completely empty. I returned my gaze to Ben. By the light pouring out from inside the van it was easy to see he was securing Ryker in a car seat.
I reached my vehicle and was annoyed when I realized my keys were in my canvas bag. I usually kept them out if I was going to my car alone at night, ready to use as a weapon, but I guess seeing Ben threw me. Luckily, I found them pretty readily and, as I pulled them out, I recognized the sound of the van’s door sliding shut.
“Good night.” Ben waved an arm, opening the driver’s side with his other
hand. He started to slide behind the wheel, but paused with one leg in. “Thanks for staying late. I appreciate it.”
His politeness disconcerted me for a second, but I quickly recovered. “No problem.”
He got in his van and started the engine.
“Have you seen them?”
I jumped. The voice came from right behind me. I whirled around. “Joe! You scared the shit out of me.” It wasn’t a very professional way to respond, but I was sure Joe wouldn’t tell. My hand lay over my heart, which thumped against it like a flat tire on the road. I leaned against the car, huffing and puffing. “Man. We need to get you a bell.”
The crossing guard stared at me, cocking his head, his brow wrinkled.
“So people can hear you when you approach them.”
He didn’t respond. His eyes were darting everywhere. Something was off….
His gaze landed on me and stuck. His expression was not the benign one he usually wore. It was hard. He took a step forward. “They told you, didn’t they?”
The first flutter of fear stirred in my gut. “Joe…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He wore an oversized Army jacket. I wondered remotely if his safety vest was underneath it. He sucked in his breath, bringing a hand to cover his mouth as he studied me, then sliding it down. He paced off a few feet, then, with a suddenness that made me inhale sharply, he pounded his fist onto the hood of my car. I flinched.
“They told you about me.”
I edged away from him, trying to get my keys in a good position without him seeing. I need to remain calm. “Joe. You seem upset.”
He lunged forward and clamped his hands down on either side of me, pinning me in and sending my anxiety into orbit. The movement provoked a short scream, but I reined it in. I didn’t want to increase his paranoia. He jutted his jaw out, his face so close his spittle hit me. “They told you about me.”
Ben appeared from around the back of the car. “What the hell is going on here—?”
Pitchfork in the Road Page 8
