by James Lavene
Until then, Emilie sighed, she would have to rattle around in the big house that her great- grandfather had built. She hoped the time would come that she’d find a child to share her life.
It was Wednesday morning, but the week had just begun for the children. Monday and Tuesday had been teacher's workdays. The teachers were ready for the middle of the week. The kids were wild after their long weekend.
Emilie walked down the crowded hallway to her fourth grade room, shivering in the cold. The furnace wasn't working yet that morning and her breath was frosty on the air. She kept her coat on while she hung up some new papers and drawings that she considered original. She used the time to mentally prepare for the onslaught of class when the first bell rang.
Emilie taught an exceptional class because she wanted to work with children who were having a difficult time. The principal and the school obliged her by dumping all of the problem children into her classroom. Most thrived under her guidance. A few she could never sort out.
She'd inherited Adam Markland in the middle of the year from a distraught teacher who 'couldn't do a thing with him'. Unfortunately, it appeared that Emilie would have the same fate. She'd had him for a month and the boy wasn't interested in any of her programs. He was rude and disruptive, well on his way to being a candidate for the young offender’s list.
Twenty minutes after class started, he dragged his feet into the classroom with the principal behind him, beckoning her into the hallway.
"Adam was having some problems with the snow this morning," Mr. Howard explained briefly, his troubled brow furrowed, as always. "He seemed intent on making Jonnie Blair eat all of it."
Emilie hid a small smile. Jonnie Blair was one of the biggest bullies in the school. He was a large, aggressive boy who managed to get good grades and suck up to the teachers while scaring the smaller children around him. It was difficult to imagine the much smaller, almost frail, Adam Markland making the other boy do anything.
"I've called in his uncle, the boy's legal guardian, for a conference this afternoon. I'd like you to be there."
"Of course," she murmured then went back into her classroom.
Everyone else in the class was busy doing the assignment she'd given out, except Adam whose tousled blond head lifted as she entered the room. He stared at her defiantly.
"We're doing Math," she told him. "Page 101."
"I don't have my book," he answered.
"I have one you can use." She took out a pencil and some paper before that could be the next issue.
She set everything on his desk and he stared at it without making a move to use any of it.
Emilie hadn't realized that his parents didn't have custody of the boy. She couldn't help but wonder what kind of man the uncle was who was trying to raise Adam. His family life could have a great deal to do with the boy's attitude.
Adam sat and looked out of the window most of the day. Emilie refrained from doing anything else until she talked with the boy's uncle that afternoon. Maybe with a better understanding of his home life, she could find some way to get Adam to include himself in the classroom activities.
The bell rang for dismissal and Emilie had Adam wait for the meeting.
"Were you really trying to make Jonnie eat snow?" she asked when they were alone.
Adam looked at her, his dark eyes fierce on her face. "He wouldn't leave me alone."
Emilie frowned. "I know he's a bully, but he's so much bigger than you."
Adam grinned, showing a place where two teeth were missing. "I don't care how big he is. He's a puppy."
"Adam, why won't you do your schoolwork? I know you're smart. If you can take on Jonnie, you can do this work."
"It's not the same."
"It is if you want it to be. If you think about your schoolwork as being a fight to be better, to grow up and have a good job, maybe you could battle your way through it."
"I don't need to go to school to have a job. My uncle owns his own business. I can work for him."
"I don't think he owns a business where you don't have to read or write or use math," she argued. "What does he do?"
"Ms. Ferrier." Mr. Howard nodded to her from the doorway. "Mr. Garrett, this is Ms. Emilie Ferrier. She's taken over as Adam's teacher for the second quarter of the year. Ms. Ferrier, this is Nick Garrett, Adam's uncle."
They shook hands. Emilie smiled up into his face and started to speak, her heart melting when she saw him. Nick's dark face was shuttered. He didn't give any sign that they had ever met.
"Maybe we could all sit down," Emilie said finally, awkwardly.
She sat at her desk while Mr. Howard and Nick squeezed into children's desks beside Adam.
"Mr. Garrett," Mr. Howard began, "your nephew has been bullying some of the other children and refusing to do his classwork or participate at all in the school process."
Nick glanced at his nephew. The two looked so distinctively different, except for the dark eyes. Emilie wondered why Nick had custody of his nephew.
"Adam told me about the bully that's been giving him a hard time. He said you won’t do anything about him."
Mr. Howard looked at Emilie and scowled.
"Adam is clever and resourceful." Emilie moved into the silence. "He's only half the size of the other boy, yet he managed—"
"Ms. Ferrier!" Mr. Howard interrupted. "This wasn't exemplary behavior we're discussing! We can't encourage the boy to take matters into his own hands."
Emilie glanced briefly at the three. She finally beckoned to Mr. Howard and had him join her at the door, excusing themselves to Nick.
"I need some time alone with Nick . . . with Adam's uncle," she amended quietly. "If you could take Adam to your office, we could join you there in a few minutes."
"This is highly irregular," Mr. Howard protested.
"Adam's case may be highly irregular as well. I don't want to discuss the boy's family problems with him sitting here." She leveled him a stern look of warning. "You know my methods work, Mr. Howard."
"All right." He relented under the pressure of the Ferrier eyes. "I'll take the boy to my office."
They turned to face Nick and his nephew. She saw at once that both the older man and the boy had the same look of defiance and anger when they looked up at her.
"If you'll come with me, young Adam." Mr. Howard beckoned to the child.
Adam looked at his uncle and Nick nodded. The boy frowned and stalked past the principal as he left the room. Nick turned his gaze on Emilie as the door closed behind them.
"This is a surprise." She smiled inanely, trying to keep herself from babbling about the weather or some other topic that had nothing to do with Adam or his problems. Nick sat back in the chair, a great deal like Adam, glaring at her from beneath thick, sooty lashes.
"And not a pleasant one," she added, quelling the smile and shuffling some papers on her desk.
"Tell me about Adam." Her green eyes were every bit as fierce as the dark gaze she met.
"He's a nine year old boy with problems in school." Nick shrugged. “What’s there to say?”
She shook her head. "Tell me about Adam. The real Adam." He opened his mouth to speak and she held up her hand. "I've read his file. I know he has a problem in school. What I want to know is why his file doesn't include that he doesn't live with his parents. Where are his parents?"
Nick dropped his gaze from hers. "That doesn't have anything to do with his schoolwork. That's why it's not in his file."
Emilie stared at him. "You can't be that stupid!"
His eyes flashed back at hers and he stood up from the children's desk. "What?"
Having gained his attention, however questionable her methods, Emilie stared up at him. "Adam's problems in school reflect directly back to his problems at home."
"That's your way of saying that the teachers don't do a bad job. That everything is the parents' fault."
"That's my way of saying that Adam sits and looks out of the window all day. That he can do
the work but he won't," she answered back as hotly as he'd replied. "Did you know that he doesn't think he needs to learn math because he can work with you when he gets older so it doesn't matter?"
Nick sat back down, the breath knocked out of his hostility. "No."
"It's true. He told me so himself while we were waiting for you today. He said that you had your own business so that what he did in school wasn't important."
"I never told him that," Nick answered with a shake of his dark head. "We've talked about his schoolwork. I've tried to help him with it."
"So then you've noticed as well. It's not that he can't do the work. He's a smart boy. He won't do the work. Or participate in any school activities. Except for making Jonnie Blair eat snow."
She smiled. He stared into her eyes as though looking for something in her soul that would tell him that he could trust her.
Emilie caught her breath and felt very warm for an instant, wishing she could get up and hide behind her big desk full of papers.
"Adam's parents were both killed a little over a year ago," Nick told her finally in a voice devoid of emotion. "His mother was my sister, Renee."
Chapter Three
Emilie gasped, her mind reeling with the emotions at the loss her own parents. What could it have been like for such a young boy?
She looked at the pain in Nick's face and stifled her immediate response of apology and remorse. He was expecting that and was ready to deny the right to be comforted for his loss. No wonder Adam was having problems!
She nodded and swallowed hard over the lump that had developed in her throat. "Do you know if he was having any problems in school before that time?"
He stared at her, surprised that she had been astute enough not to offer those trite words of condolence. "I'm not sure. I don't think so. Adam doesn't like to talk about the time around the accident."
"I can understand that." Her mind raced ahead to find a way to help the boy deal with the terrible loss in his life. "I can't understand why you didn’t think that this wasn't important to his school work."
Nick got up again and prowled the room restlessly. "I knew he didn't want to talk about it with a bunch of strangers. He seemed to be doing all right for a while."
"Then?"
"Then his teachers started sending home notes that he wouldn't do his homework and that he was fighting. We talked. He promised to try harder. The notes kept coming. It became a pattern.”
"So they moved him to another class."
He turned to look at her. "You're his fourth teacher in three months. This is the second school he's been in during this grade alone."
"You didn't think that was a hint that he wasn't working through the loss of his parents?" It hadn’t come out exactly as she’d planned.
He glared at her. "I knew he didn't want to talk about it."
"That doesn't matter. He has to talk about it. He has to bring out those feelings so that he can accept his parents’ death and go on with his life."
"I don't buy into all that therapist crap," he told her bluntly.
"I noticed."
"What?"
She sighed, knowing she had already annoyed him. She might as well be hanged for the whole crime. "You obviously aren't working through the problem any better than Adam is. You're angry and hostile too."
"You don't know anything about Adam. Or me," he defended angrily. "Don't try to play amateur psychologist with us."
"Look." She swallowed hard to keep herself from getting angry. The man was impossibly stubborn! “I don't want to invade your grief or your private life, but Adam is headed down the wrong path, Nick. If he doesn't get some guidance, you're going to be visiting him in juvenile detention and trying to figure out what went wrong."
"I don't think so. He’ll work through it."
"He respects your opinion," she continued relentlessly. "Maybe a good place to start would be telling him that he can't work for you unless he graduates from high school."
Their eyes clashed wordlessly. Nick was the first to break the contact, wandering to the windows at the side of the empty room.
"Before my sister died last year," he began, not looking at her, "the longest I'd had either one of her children was babysitting a few hours while she and her husband went out to dinner or a movie. I’d been stationed in Iraq for several years. Before Renee died, she asked me to take the kids. I promised her that I'd do the best I could."
Emilie felt tears sting the back of her eyes. "How did they die?"
Nick laughed shortly. "It's ironic, really. Renee was leaving Jack and the kids to run away with another man she was sure she loved. She was willing to leave it all behind. Jack tried to stop her. They ran off the road and hit a telephone pole. It was lucky that they hadn't taken the kids with them. Jack was killed at the scene. Renee lived for another three days."
Emilie couldn't help herself. In a voice thick with emotion, she said, "I am so sorry. I lost both of my parents in a plane accident when I was eighteen. I can't even imagine what it must be like for Adam with him being so young."
Nick turned back to her, appraising her sorrow-filled face with a different attitude. The green eyes were bright with unshed tears. Knowing that she had suffered a tragedy as well made her sympathy more acceptable.
"How old is the other child?" She cleared her throat and wiped at her eyes.
"She's almost two." He felt again that empathy, pulling him close to Emilie Ferrier. What was one of the Ferriers doing teaching school anyway? Why hadn't he heard that she'd lost both of her parents in one terrible moment?
"She won't even remember," Emilie discerned, shaking her head ruefully. "It might be a blessing compared with Adam's grief.”
Nick cleared his own throat and looked at her with tear-bright eyes. "That's another story, I guess. I want to help Adam, Emilie. I see every day how much he's still hurting and I don't want him to hurt anymore."
"Neither do I," she assured him firmly. "Does he have any hobbies or interests?"
He shrugged, thinking about his nephew's activities. "He loves music. He wanted to join the band here. They wouldn't let him because his grades were so low."
Emilie made a quick mental note of that fact. "Okay, so let's not work against each other in this. We both want something good for Adam. Keep after him about his homework and make sure that he understands that he has to finish school before he can work for you. Maybe we can even find ways to make him understand the correlation between what you do and what he needs to learn in school."
"I'll do that. Maybe you could help with this band thing. I think it would mean a lot to him."
"I'll see what I can do and get back to you." She peeked up at him from under her lashes. "Can we agree to one hour a week with the school counselor? She won’t harass him about his parents. It will give him a chance to talk about it when they get to know one another."
He hesitated and frowned, clearing not liking the idea. "All right. So long as she understands that I don't want him badgered for information! Do you know her?"
Emilie felt a strange flutter in her chest when he looked at her, obviously deciding that he could trust her judgment. "I do. She's not the badgering type. I'll explain the situation. She'll listen to whatever he wants to tell her."
"I can handle that. You'll keep me informed on any progress?"
"I will. Maybe we can go and save Mr. Howard now. I'm afraid Adam might be too much for him."
He’s a boy! How is that possible?"
Emilie smiled as she walked hesitantly toward the door, trying not to feel self-conscious, and not succeeding. "Well, Adam did tackle Jonnie Blair today. Mr. Howard's not all that much bigger."
He smiled! Emilie caught her breath. He actually looked much different when he smiled. It was like a shadow passing from in front of the sun.
"Adam's father was a karate teacher,” Nick explained. “He taught him how to take care of himself when he was really young. Jonnie Blair needs to push someone else around."
Emilie was still dazed by the impact of his more lighthearted side. At some time, she realized, the man had actually had a sense of humor. It was amazing!
"I'm sure he will." She silently walked down the hall beside him.
"By the way," he injected, "the parts for your car won't be hard to get. The damage wasn't as bad as I’d thought. You should have it back by the end of the week."
"Oh, that's wonderful." She hoped she wasn't gushing. "I appreciate it . . . and you. Working on my cars." Why was she so tongue-tied with him the minute they’d stepped away from her profession?
"Thanks." Nick was surprised again by the woman beside him. He walked slowly so that she could keep up with him, wanting to ask what had happened to her. How had she been crippled? Had it happened in the same accident that had taken her parents’ lives?
Funny how no one ever talked about it in town. They discussed every other aspect of the Ferriers’ lives.
He focused, instead, on the principal's office door ahead of them and refused to ask. He’d determined that he didn't want to be anymore involved with her than he had to be. Fate seemed to have other ideas. Far from the year he'd expected between meetings with her, the feel and scent of her next to him was still very fresh in his mind.
Emilie fell silent when she saw his smile fade and the usual scowl appear on his dark face. She didn't know what cloud had crossed him again. She was sorry to see that happier version of him fade away.
They reached Mr. Howard's office and she had Adam stay with his uncle in the hall while she explained everything to the principal. She didn’t ask for his consent to her plan. She had been successful with problem children. They both knew that her methods worked. Besides, no one else seemed to have any idea what to do for him.
They both joined Nick and Adam as they waited in the hallway and there were handshakes all around. Adam frowned and squirmed restlessly beside his uncle, probably feeling a change in the air now that his uncle was onboard.
Emilie took Nick's hand, her own disappearing into his warm hold. She looked up into his face, recalling him picking her up and putting her into his truck. Feeling again what it was like, sliding down the long length of him.
