by Andrew Grey
“Okay.” Dante appeared ready to bolt, his gaze darting around the room.
“Just be caring and thoughtful. You don’t need to talk about anything other than what you’re doing. This is a safe place for them. If one of them starts to cry, be caring and understanding. Sometimes something innocent will trigger a response from them. It isn’t your fault if it happens.” Beau walked to a plastic tub and pulled off the lid. “You can start with this if you’d like. There are thousands of Lego blocks. Think of something fun and ask them to make it. Use your imagination.”
“All right.”
“I’m going to be here with you, so you have nothing to worry about. Have some fun.” Beau smiled.
“What about Roberts and the others?”
“Angie will be working with them. There is so much we could use help with, and she’s the queen of organization.”
Dante chuckled. “Wait till she meets Roberts. He’s the king.” Dante picked through the blocks and began absently putting them together.
“Do you have any questions?” Beau asked, catching Dante’s gaze. Heat sprang up inside, and a slight sheen of sweat broke out on the back of his neck. He turned away and took a deep breath. When he turned back, Dante was still looking at him. Beau cleared his throat to try to speak, but his voice didn’t work. Being the subject of that gaze was completely unexpected. Beau had seen heat and lust in people before. He knew what they looked like, and that look had both but something else as well—longing and fear. Beau was well acquainted with both of those as well. Within seconds they disappeared, replaced with the same steely cold Beau had seen while Dante had been talking to the mayor.
“No. I can work with the kids.” Blinking and remaining stern, he turned to where the kids would sit in their small group, taking in the space again.
“Mr. Beau!” Bobby called as he raced into the room, followed by Kendra, Hank, Lila, Raymond, and Phillip. They all stopped about three steps in, staring at Dante.
Maybe having Dante come in was a really bad idea. Beau had thought that talking to them last time would smooth the way. This had all the makings of an emotional train wreck.
Bobby hurried to him, gave Beau a hug, and then went right over to Dante. “Did you get the cookies? I had to make them without gluten.”
“They were delicious. Thank you.” Dante stood still, like he was frozen, and Beau willed him to act the way he had at the dinner.
Bobby tugged on his arm, and Dante finally knelt down. “Did you hang the picture?”
“Yup. Just like I promised. It’s in my office.”
Bobby whooped and raced back to the other kids. “See?” he said, standing right in front of Kendra, hands on his hips. “I told you he promised.”
Beau covered his mouth to keep from laughing. “Why don’t you all come over here and say hello to Mr. Dante?”
They approached slowly, especially when Dante stood. The man was huge and had to be intimidating to these small kids.
“He’s a giant,” Raymond said from the back of the group. “Will he eat us?”
Finally Dante smiled. “I’m not a giant. I’m just tall.”
“He looks like a giant.” Raymond clearly wasn’t going to come any closer.
“Dang,” Beau said under his breath. Raymond’s father—his estranged father; he now lived with his mother—was as tall as Dante, and he could almost see the triggers going off in the little boy’s head. This could be good for him, but only if it became a positive experience, though that possibility seemed to be flying out the door by the second.
“Mr. Beau and I thought it would be fun to play Legos.” Dante picked up the container of blocks and dumped it in a pile on the floor. “Can we see who can make the best house?” Dante sat down, and bless Bobby, he plopped right down next to him.
“I want to make a blue house,” Bobby said, beginning to pull out all the blue blocks.
“I like the blue ones,” Kendra said and joined them, if only to defend her territory.
Hank hurried over and started picking out the white blocks.
“You can make a red house,” Dante told Kendra when it seemed she and Bobby were going to get into a fight. “I like the red ones.”
Dang it all if Dante didn’t smile, and Beau’s heart did a little flutter as Kendra backed off for the first time and put the blue blocks she’d been clutching in front of Bobby and began gathering the red ones.
The others hurried over, and soon all of them, except Raymond, who stood next to Beau, holding his hand, his thumb in his mouth, were on the floor, building.
“It’s okay. Mr. Dante is nice,” Beau told him as gently as he could. Raymond shook his head and moved behind him to try to hide. Beau turned and kept himself between Raymond and Dante. “Is there something you want to tell me about?” Sometimes it was best if he could get them to talk. They didn’t always have the words, but sometimes they found them.
Raymond pulled his thumb out of his mouth. “He scares me.”
“Why?” Beau asked. “Can you tell me?”
Raymond leaned to the side to look around his legs. “He’s big.” He looked again and then lifted his gaze. “Where are his horns and big teeth?”
“He’s just a person, like you and me.” Beau leaned down, gazing over at Dante, who didn’t seem at all like any of the rumors he’d heard. Dante turned and looked at him. A zing of heat went right through him. Beau nearly gasped at a moment of sudden insight that hit home when Bobby and Kendra turned to him as well. Each of the kids in the group, no matter how happy they were at the moment, all had that hint of wariness in their eyes, as though they expected the happiness to be short-lived and everything to fall apart once again. He expected to see that with the kids; what he didn’t expect was for Dante to have that same darkness. Somehow Dante had been touched by the same pain and hurt as these kids.
“Do you want to go over with me and make a house? We can do it together.”
Raymond stared and then nodded slowly.
Beau walked him over, still holding his hand. He considered it a good sign that Raymond didn’t put his thumb back in his mouth. They both sat down, everyone making room for them, and Raymond grabbed blocks with one hand, still holding Beau’s for a few minutes. Then he pulled away, using both hands to gather the blocks.
“Do you want these?” Dante asked, holding out a few pieces, and Raymond stopped, hesitated, and then nodded. Dante handed them to him. Raymond continued playing but kept looking up at Dante.
What Beau hadn’t expected was the way Dante returned Raymond’s gaze… with understanding. Somehow Dante knew what these kids were feeling, and Beau wondered how addiction had touched Dante’s life. It obviously had somehow.
“Bobby, do you want to talk for a few minutes?” Beau asked, but Bobby shook his head.
“I’m playing with Mr. Dante.” Bobby looked at Dante and then returned to his building. Even Kendra, who had been so vocal regarding the Beast at their earlier session, seemed content to play.
“Was your daddy nice?” Bobby asked. It may have seemed like a strange question, but Beau knew it was Bobby’s way of asking if Dante’s dad was like his dad and the roller coaster of addiction and treatment he’d been through.
“Not really,” Dante answered. “My dad….” He paused and then took a look at Beau, who nodded. Being honest with kids was the best way to win them over. “My dad liked to be in control, so when he said something, that was how it was. He didn’t like it when I wanted to do things that he didn’t want.”
“My mommy says I have to do what she says because it’s to keep me safe,” Raymond volunteered. Beau knew in that second that Dante had won him over.
“Yes. And mommies and daddies want their kids to be safe. But my dad made me get married when I didn’t want to.”
“Ewww,” all the kids said in near unison.
“To a girl.” Hank made a yucky face. “I don’t want to marry a girl.”
“You can marry a boy if you want.”
Hank thought about it. “I don’t want to marry anyone. But especially not a girl. They’re yucky.”
“We are not,” Kendra immediately countered. “Boys are yucky, not girls.”
“Okay,” Beau said, bringing an end to the argument. “What Dante means is that if you get married, it should be to someone you love and want to marry. Your dad shouldn’t tell you who to marry.”
Kendra looked up from where she was concentrating on building the walls of her red house. “Your daddy made you marry someone you didn’t want to?” She turned to Beau. “My mommy told me once that she didn’t want to marry Daddy, but he made her pregnant with me and she had to marry him.” Her hands began to shake, dropping the blocks she held. “She said it was my fault that her life got messed up.” Her lower lip quivered, and Beau took her hand to guide her away from the others, then knelt down and hugged her.
“You know that what happened to your mommy isn’t your fault.” He loved each of these kids and cared deeply about them. They were faultless in their parents’ messed-up lives, but sometimes they thought they were to blame for everything that was wrong.
“But what if it was?” she asked, tears streaking down her cheeks.
“It’s not. You’re a good girl, and what happened to your mommy was never, ever your fault.” Sometimes all he could do was reassure these kids. Trying to counter the careless things some parents said was nearly impossible. He let her cry on his shoulder, and once she was done, she went back to building her house.
“Okay. You all finish working on your houses and I’ll be right back. The best ones get a treat.” Dante stood and worked the kinks out of his legs, then walked over to Beau. “I’m sorry if I said anything that hurt her.”
“You didn’t. These kids have so many hidden triggers, it’s like a minefield sometimes, and hitting them in this environment is safe because I can help them deal with it.” Beau smiled. “Go ahead and have fun with them. It’s what they need, and believe it or not, you’re helping each of them.” Beau sat back down and so did Dante.
After working for a while longer, the kids declared their buildings complete.
“You all made such great houses,” Dante said, looking at each one.
“Who gets the treat?” Bobby asked, eyes wide.
“Well….” Dante made a show of thinking about it. “How about… all of you?”
“Is it ice cream?” Bobby asked, and Dante’s grin was almost as big as Bobby’s when he nodded. “Yay! Mr. Dante has the bestest ice cream ever!”
“Harriet arranged to bring some with her. I’m sure if you find her, she’ll be able to tell you where it is,” Dante said. He certainly knew how to win friends and influence people.
Beau pulled out his phone and called the front desk. Angie answered, and he asked about their treat.
“Harriet will be down in a few minutes. She’s in the kitchen area getting things dished up.”
“You’re one step ahead of me.” Beau hung up and told the kids to put their houses on the shelf, then clean up all the remaining blocks and put them in the tub. They moved their creations, which all looked remarkably house-like, and scooped up the blocks.
A woman with her hair pulled into a bun came in carrying a tray. “I hope you all like chocolate,” she said gently, and six youngsters all jumped up and down at once.
“Sit at the table,” Beau said, and they scrambled into their seats. Harriet handed them each a bowl with a spoon, and they went at it like they were all starving to death. “Thank you,” Beau told Harriet and Dante as he watched over his charges.
“The wee ones are adorable,” Harriet said with a slight smile. “You just call up to the house and I can make you a batch in no time.” She watched them with a grin on her lips.
“Thank you, Harriet. I appreciate all your help,” Dante said softly, and once again, Beau wondered about the inconsistencies in this man. If he was such a Beast, why did the kids and the people who worked for him act the way they did?
“They seem so happy,” Harriet said, then grabbed some napkins and handed one to each child.
“First and foremost, they’re kids,” Beau said gently. “They’ve had harder lives than most….”
Harriet excused herself, saying, “I’ll be back for the dishes.” She turned. “I have to check on the not-so-wee ones. They’re messier.” She smiled and left the room.
“She’s something else,” Beau observed.
“Yes, she is. But do not go anywhere near her kitchen when she’s working. She’ll bite your head off if you mess up her system.” Dante chuckled.
Beau knew it was early in their friendship, but this man was nothing like the one that had been described to him. Where was this Beast that everyone talked about? Kids could tell if someone was inherently mean or bad, and they avoided them. Dante had been generous, thoughtful, and understanding with the kids and with him.
Dante’s phone rang and he tugged it out of his pocket. “Is there somewhere I can take this?” When Beau pointed to the door to the small room next door, Dante answered the call and left the room. He spoke quietly into the phone as Beau went to check on the kids.
“Are you almost done?” Beau asked. “If you are, please wipe your hands and face with the napkins and put your bowls and silverware back on the tray. Then you can color for me. Why don’t you each draw something that makes you happy?”
They hurried to the tray and took care of the dishes. Beau set them up with paper and colored pencils, and they got busy. Beau then went to check on Dante. He knocked on the door and cracked it open so make sure he was okay.
“Fire him!” Dante hissed into the phone. “I want him off the premises today! I will not stand for that in any way.” The fire in Dante’s voice was freezing enough to send a cold chill up Beau’s spine. “You heard me. Right now. Today. Get him gone.” Dante stabbed at the phone with his finger, and Beau closed the door and hurried back over to the kids. He checked on their work and watched the door. Dante came out, phone put away, and walked to where the kids were working as though nothing had happened. Beau caught his gaze and couldn’t help wondering if he’d just seen the Beast in action.
“What are you drawing?” Dante asked.
“Mr. Beau said to draw what makes us happy.” Bobby held up what looked like dish of ice cream. Next to it was a piece of cake that had been crossed out. “Ice cream… not cake.”
Dante chuckled. “That’s really good. How about you, Kendra?”
“This is my dolly, Brenda. She used to sleep with me every night.” Kendra’s lower lip quivered. “But when we had to move, she got left behind and….”
“She looks very pretty. What color is her hair?”
“She had black hair like me. She was a Cabbage Patch doll, and I loved her a lot. She kept the monsters away at night. But now she’s gone. Mommy says that I’m a big girl now and that I should be able to sleep on my own.” Dante appeared to be searching for words to comfort her, but must have come up empty and just hugged her.
Dante asked each of the kids what they were drawing and listened to their answers.
“It’s time to go—your parents will be picking you up soon. Put your things away and say goodbye to Mr. Dante.” Beau accepted hugs, and so did Dante, each child saying goodbye and Bobby giving Mr. Dante a big hug. Then they filed out, and Beau went through the room, putting everything to rights and cleaning up.
“You did very well,” he told Dante, who stood out of the way. “They really liked you.”
“They’re great kids,” Dante said softly. “Is there anything else I can do?”
It was obvious Dante was getting anxious to go. He probably had places he needed to be. “You can go if you like. I appreciate you coming in to spend time with the kids. They need to be exposed to new people, ones who are safe and will help expand their comfort zones.” Beau didn’t know what else to say. He was curious about this man and wanted to ask him so many questions that he didn’t have a right to.
“It
was a nice afternoon.”
“I’m glad. I hope you’ll come back again.” Regular volunteers were worth their weight in gold.
“I have to travel in a few weeks, but I will call and arrange to come back.” Dante walked toward the door. “This is a really special place….” He put his hand on the knob to leave.
“Maybe you’d like to get together for dinner or something?” Beau almost put his hand over his lips once he realized what he’d said, then backpedaled to try to figure out a way to make what he’d said sound less… needy… less datey. “You give a lot of money to keep programs like this running and I hate to ask for anything more, but I have some ideas, and maybe you could help me plan how to raise the money to make them happen.” That sounded pretty good to him. Beau waited for few seconds, sure Dante was going to give him the brush-off.
“I….” Dante paused and then nodded slowly. “Sure. That would be nice.” He pulled out his phone. “I have conference calls tomorrow night, but I’m free on Saturday. Why don’t you come to the house and we can have dinner and talk? Say, around seven o’clock. Is that okay?”
“Of course.” Beau had nothing in particular to do.
“That would be great. I’ll see you then.” Dante left the room, and Beau wondered what the hell he’d just done.
BEAU SPENT the night thinking of Dante and knew he was in real trouble. All night long he saw those eyes, and more than once he’d woken up jittery and sweaty. Thankfully, the morning came quickly enough, and Beau spent it handling appointments.
He usually packed his lunch, but today he walked down the street to the lunch counter in the department store that had been there since the Roosevelt presidency. The lady behind the counter had probably worked there on opening day. She was kind and knew everyone and everything that happened in town.
“Hi, Beau, honey. You’ve been gone awhile.” She handed him a menu as he perched on one of the old stools with the red leatherette seats.
