Father to Be
Page 27
He scanned the twenty feet once more before turning to face her. She leaned against the streetlamp, looking as out of place as he felt. The early evening light gave her hair a silvery tinge, her smile an ethereal gleam.
The mysterious Noelle, who was responsible for getting him into this mess.
He moved a couple of steps toward her. “You lied to me.”
“About what?”
“You told me that taking in those kids was the right thing to do. You told me I could help Caleb. That he needed me, not someone, not a father figure, but me.”
“Those weren’t lies, Dr. Grayson. Caleb does need you, and you can help him, once you get past your guilt. Once Caleb gets over his hurt.”
“Oh, well, I guess those two small prerequisites just slipped your mind,” he said sarcastically.
She moved away from the lamppost. “Walk with me. The smells from this place foul the air.”
J.D. looked once more at the bar. He thought about walking those twenty feet, opening the door, stepping inside. Walking to the bar. Ordering. Lifting the glass to his lips. Tilting back his head, tipping up the glass—
Swallowing hard, he joined Noelle, and they walked away in silence. When they’d gone a block, he breathed deeply and smelled only summer flowers and faint perfume. They smelled sweet, clean, pure, and reminded him of Kelsey. Kelsey, whom he would see that night, who would make him feel immensely better by simply showing up, by smiling, by existing.
“I didn’t lie, Dr. Grayson,” Noelle pointed out. “I didn’t say it would be easy. I didn’t think a man with your experience would expect it to be.”
“You also didn’t say it would be this hard.”
“A man with your ex—”
“I have no experience with four children.”
“Three of them aren’t the problem. And you do have experience dealing with one troubled child.”
And that was the problem, he admitted. He would give anything in the world to have another chance with Trey. Instead, he’d been given a chance with Caleb, whom he insisted on seeing as a poor substitute for what he really wanted.
But Caleb wasn’t a substitute for anything. He was an individual, a real, live, breathing, hurting child who deserved so much more than he’d gotten—from life, from his parents, from J.D. himself. He deserved to be wanted for himself, loved for himself, and not disliked merely for reminding J.D. of someone gone from his life.
“Sometimes loving a child can be as easy as breathing,” Noelle remarked. “Take Gracie, for example. She’s charming, even-tempered, eager to please, and she’s got the face of an angel. There’s not a heart around that could resist her. Caleb, on the other hand … he’s so afraid, and he tries to be strong and hide his fear, but he doesn’t know how, and so he becomes defensive and antagonistic.”
Those were the usual defense mechanisms, J.D. acknowledged, which he could easily deal with if his own defense mechanisms weren’t so firmly in place. The simple truth was he was afraid too, afraid of failing again. Of damaging another child. Of caring again and losing again. Of finding out beyond a doubt that yet another boy would have been so much better off if J.D. had never come into his life.
He was afraid of facing his past. Of dealing with Trey and all the ways he’d let him down. Of examining his shortcomings, his mistakes, and thereby undoing the life he’d saved for himself in the last two years.
He was so damn afraid.
“It’s been more than two weeks,” he said quietly. “If anything, Caleb is angrier, more antagonistic, than ever.”
“Sometimes situations have to get worse before they get better.”
“And some situations never get better.”
She gave him a sidelong look. “Do you believe Caleb is one of those situations? That the two of you aren’t capable of the sort of relationship you share with his brothers? Do you honestly believe that Caleb is a lost cause?”
With Caleb’s angry words still echoing in his head, he wanted to say yes. He wanted to insist that he would always resent Caleb, that Caleb would always hate him. He wanted to say whatever it would take to get himself to a place where Caleb couldn’t hurt him.
But it was already too late for that. If such a place had existed, it had disappeared the day he’d stood in front of the church and looked at the photograph of that thin, needy boy and said, All right. I’ll take them.
“No. He’s not a lost cause,” he admitted grudgingly. Then, because he felt trapped, by himself and his own ambivalence, he ill-naturedly added, “I just don’t know why he has to be my cause.”
Noelle stopped on the corner where the street intersected Main and looked up at him. “Because, Dr. Grayson, you need him as much as he needs you. You two are going to save each other. You didn’t think it was all one way, did you?” She flashed him a smile. “Give and you shall receive. Help Caleb, and you’ll be helped too.”
His only response was a scowl that made her chuckle. “You get cranky when you haven’t eaten, just like a child. Go on down to Harry’s. Tonight’s special is roast beef with all the trimmings, and it’s unusually good. And who knows? You might even find somebody there to cheer you up.”
He glanced down the block, where Harry’s Diner was the only business open. Dinner did sound good, and Maeve and Harry were always good company. “Thanks for the—” He looked back and saw that Noelle was already stepping up on the curb on the opposite side. “Hey, where are you going?”
“I’m just in town for a short visit,” she called as she walked briskly along in the same direction he was heading. “My schedule’s pretty tight these days. But you’ll see me again. I’m always popping in and out.”
She reached the street that formed one border of the square and turned with a jaunty wave. J.D. walked a few more yards, opened the door to Harry’s, then glanced back. She was already out of sight.
With a weary sigh Kelsey laid her brief case on the passenger seat, then glanced at her watch. Her long day was finally over. She’d put in a full twelve hours—the usual office routine, plus a round of home visits with her clients, both young and old. She’d also placed a number of calls to Howland, trying to catch Mary Therese in the office. That was why she’d stopped by her office one last time, to check the answering machine for messages. There’d been one from Mary Therese saying they would talk tomorrow, and another from J.D., just a quick lunchtime gee-I-miss-you call.
She’d listened to it a couple of times, but it wasn’t the message she heard. Instead, her mind kept substituting the words he’d said last night. You know I’m falling in love with you. It wasn’t as good as an outright declaration, but it was close. It was enough to make her feel giddy, enough to almost make her not care that she’d broken every rule in the book last night.
It was also the reason she’d tried repeatedly to reach her boss. She was going to tell Mary Therese that she could no longer be the Browns’ caseworker. Of course, Mary Therese would want to know why. Kelsey hadn’t decided yet exactly how to phrase her answer. Because she was having an affair with her client? Because she was involved with him? Because she had slept with him?
All three were accurate, to a point. But an affair sounded sleazy, involved seemed evasive, and there’d been so much more to last night than just sex.
She could say they shared a relationship. That she had feelings for him. Or she could just get straight to the point and say that she was in love with him.
But when she hadn’t yet acknowledged it to herself, much less J.D., was it fair to tell anyone else?
Putting the subject out of her mind in favor of a shiver of anticipation, she turned into J.D.’s driveway. She parked beside his truck, brushed her fingers over her hair, and checked her makeup before she got out and climbed the long stairs. She’d waited all day for this visit, had been distracted by it, impatient for it. Now that it was time, though, she was nervous. She wasn’t sure what to say, how to act, or even how to greet him. With a simple hello? A smile? A chaste kiss?
“No, thanks. I’ve eaten.”
“Maybe a cup of coffee and a little dessert?”
“No, thanks, Bud.” She looked past him. A light was on in the kitchen, but only the hall light illuminated the dining room. From down the hall came the sound of the television. “Is J.D. here?”
Bud’s smile faded. “No, darlin’, he’s gone out for a bit. But I expect him back any minute now. We’d be pleased to have you wait.” He grinned and gave her a wink. “I know it would please my boy to find you here when he returns.”
“I can wait awhile,” she said, hoping her smile hid her disappointment. “Are the kids busy?”
“Three of them are in the living room. Caleb’s in their bedroom. Go on in and say hello.”
The kids were in their pajamas and sprawled together on the couch, one big blob with multiple limbs and heads. When she sat down near them, Jacob used the remote to stop the video they were watching, and Gracie separated from the others to scoot over beside her. “Hi,” she said, resting her hand on Kelsey’s knee. “Caleb’s in trouble.”
“He is?”
“Yeah, big-time,” Noah replied. “Ya wanna know what he did?”
Was that why J.D. had gone out and why Bud’s smile had dimmed when he’d told her so? Because J.D. and Caleb had had another go-round? She tried to not get involved with the minor skirmishes that were a daily part of practically every foster parent’s life. The parent had to have the authority to manage the child—within reason, of course—or the foster system would cease to function. Generally she stepped in only when someone else was involved, the misbehavior was escalating, or the child’s punishment wasn’t appropriate to his crime. She was sure none of those applied to this situation.
“Caleb said a bad word,” Gracie said in a hushed voice. “Our daddy said don’t ever say bad words, no matter what, but Caleb did, and so did Dr. J.D. And he slammed the door real hard, and the whole house shaked and then he cried.”
“Caleb slammed the door?” Kelsey asked.
Gracie nodded vigorously enough to make her hair bounce. “They both did. And then Dr. J.D., he lefted, and Caleb can’t come out for nothin’.”
Noah scooted over, too, and fixed his big brown gaze on Kelsey. “We were scared, weren’t we, Gracie?”
Nodding again, she shifted even closer to Kelsey.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Kelsey said, sliding her arm around two sets of narrow shoulders. “Sometimes grown-ups and children argue. Didn’t Caleb argue sometimes with your dad?”
“Never,” Jacob replied from the other end of the sofa. “Caleb loved our dad. He hates Dr. J.D.”
“He doesn’t really—”
“Yes, he does,” Jacob interrupted. “And sometimes he gets mad because we don’t hate him too.”
Feeling a little queasy, Kelsey managed to smile and change the subject. “What movie are you watching?”
“Oh, it’s wonderful,” Gracie said with a bright smile. “It’s about a mermaid in the ocean, and she’s beautiful. D’ya think I could be a mermaid when I grow up?”
“Gracie.” Noah rolled his eyes. “Grandpa Bud and Jacob and I told you and told you there’s no such thing as a mermaid. That’s just TV.”
She tossed her head in a determined-female manner that made Kelsey smile. “Well, then, I could be a mermaid on TV. Couldn’t I, Kelsey?”
“Maybe so. Listen, you guys get back to your movie, and I’m going to say hello to Caleb.”
“He can’t come out of the bedroom,” Noah reminded her as she crossed the room. “He’ll be in big trouble if he does.”
“He’s already in big trouble,” Jacob reminded him.
Before heading for the bedroom, she backtracked to the kitchen, where Bud was washing a pot at the sink. It couldn’t hurt to get an adult’s take on the argument before she heard from Caleb. “The kids tell me there was a problem tonight.”
He sighed heavily. “I let Caleb go off for a walk by himself. He stayed out longer than he was supposed to and came back upset and filthy. When J.D. tried to deal with him, the boy exploded. Said he doesn’t have to answer to J.D., that he’s not his father, that he hates him.” He offered a thin smile. “You know. The usual angry-teenager stuff.”
“I bet J.D. never tried the ‘usual angry-teenager stuff’ with you.”
“No, ma’am, he didn’t. And I’d wager that you never pulled it on your parents.”
She shook her head. “Oh, I got mad, but blowing up was not an option, not in my house. Of course, J.D. and I were never in Caleb’s position.”
“If the boy would just let go of that anger …” Bud put a storage container of spaghetti sauce in the refrigerator, then leaned against the counter. “When he called me in Philadelphia, J.D. told me those kids would break your heart. That’s not a problem for me. My heart’s been broken before, and I survived, but J.D.… ”
She patted his arm. “J.D.’s a rock.”
The look he gave her was filled with concern. “Even rocks crumble, Kelsey.”
J.D. crumbling was an event she couldn’t imagine. Instead, she gave Bud one last pat. “I’m going to talk to Caleb, then I’ll get out of your hair.”
“You’re not in the way. Stay as long as you want. I know J.D.’s looking forward to seeing you.”
Smiling faintly, she went down the hall to the last room and knocked. When no invitation was forthcoming, she let herself in.
Caleb stood at the window, staring out. “You can’t come in here,” he said flatly, his voice devoid of emotion.
“No, Caleb, I can go just about anywhere I want. You’re the one who’s grounded.” She glanced at his dinner, untouched on the dresser, then moved to the other end and leaned against it. “Want to tell me about it?”
“Why? You’ll just take his side.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because that’s what grown-ups do.”
“I’m not here to take sides, Caleb. I’d just like to hear what happened.”
“He’s not my boss.”
“You know what? All our lives we’ve got somebody telling us what to do. When we’re kids, it’s our parents and our teachers. When we grow up, it’s our bosses and supervisors, our legislators, our husbands and wives. There’s not a person in the world who doesn’t have to answer to someone. In your case, right now that person is J.D.”
“He’s not my dad.”
“No, he’s not. But he’s here, and your dad’s not.”
“He’s coming back.” His whisper was a sad change from the vehemence with which he normally made that statement. Was he beginning to have his doubts? Was he starting to accept that his father had left them for good?
“I hope he does, Caleb. I really do. But until that happens, you’ve got to adjust to living with someone else, to answering to someone else.”
“Not him. I’ll never answer to him. I’d rather die.”
“Caleb …” She crossed the room to him and laid her hand on his shoulder. His reaction was immediate—a wince, a shrug away. Curious, she moved closer and tugged at the neck of his T-shirt. He winced again.
“Quit,” he grumbled, spinning away and going to the opposite end of the window. “Leave me alone.”
“Take off your shirt, Caleb.”
“No.”
“You acted like it hurt when I touched you. I want to see. Take off your shirt.”
“Nothin’ hurts. I just don’t want to be touched.”
“Caleb.” When she started toward him, he backed away, but the corner was only a few feet behind him. He couldn’t go any farther.
Taking hold of the bottom, she pulled his shirt up and over his head before he could stop her, and she stared. There were bruises on his shoulders and b
oth upper arms, the pattern typical of a grabbing-type injury, and there were other bruises, a large one on his ribs, another across his stomach.
She drew a deep, calming breath. “How did this happen?”
He stared at the floor.
“Caleb?” She lifted his chin, but he still refused to meet her gaze. “How did you get these bruises?”
His lips, still bearing the mark from Monday’s fight, barely moved. “He said not to tell.”
“Who said?”
His jaw worked as if he wanted to blurt out the answer yet hold it in. After a moment he jerked away from her, grabbed his shirt, wadded it in a ball, then went to climb with a grimace onto his bunk.
“Who did it, Caleb?”
“He did,” he said at last, and the words came out as if a dam had burst. “He grabbed me in the hall, and when I came in here, he came too, and he slammed the door. He said he’d had enough, that if I wouldn’t behave, then he’d make me, and he said if I told anyone, he’d send me away and he’d keep the kids and I’d never see them again.”
Feeling sick inside, Kelsey went to stand beside the bed. She had to tilt her head back to see him. He looked angry and ashamed and about to cry. She would be, too, if she were lying the way he was. “Caleb, you and I both know J.D. didn’t cause those bruises.”
“He did too! See! I told you you’d take his side!”
“Caleb,” she said sternly. “Look.” She gently placed her fingertips over the bruises on his left arm. “The fingers that left these bruises are smaller than mine. J.D.’s aren’t.”
He burst into tears, great, heaving sobs. “It was him! It was, I swear! Why won’t you believe me?”
She bowed her head, resting her forehead against the smooth wood of the bed. She knew he was lying, knew J.D. wasn’t capable of causing physical harm to any child. But at this point, truth didn’t affect what she had to do next.
Oh, God, she’d taken part in so many of these investigations. She’d seen firsthand the damage caused by such lies. No matter how much evidence they found to exonerate the parent, no matter if the child recanted his own accusations, that damage always remained. There were always some who believed the parent was guilty, always some who wondered. The loss of trust, the suspicion, the wariness—they could never be undone.