Addie Gets Her Man

She stared after him. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t yelling at his son, like so many other fathers would be doing. He actually looked...she tried to find the right description...beaten?

What battle was he waging? Against his son? Against himself, and his own grief? He’d lost his wife the same time Ryan had lost his mother. “Mr. Skylar?” She hurried around the desk, stopping in the open doorway just as he turned to look at her.

“Yes?”

“Is...” What was she thinking? What was she even doing? “Is there anything I can do to help? You...or...” She looked at Ryan. “You, Ryan?”

“Thank you.” Marcus straightened his already impressive shoulders. “But we’ll be fine. Come on, Ryan.”

With his hand on Ryan’s shoulder, he headed out the door, and she heard their footsteps echo down the empty hall. It was a lonely, nearly painful sound. She’d have to keep an eye on them. On Ryan, she reminded herself. She was a principal. The father was not her concern, unless his actions affected the boy.

Then all bets were off.

* * *

MARCUS DIDN’T LET go of Ryan’s shoulder until they reached the car. The boy was silent as he threw his backpack in the rear and slammed his backside into the passenger seat. He pouted, crossing his thin arms over his equally thin chest. Only once he was settled behind the wheel did Marcus speak.

“You want to explain what happened?”

He didn’t yell at Ryan, though he wanted to. His own father would have already blistered his ears with accusations and curses, but Marcus knew how it felt to be the boy who’d made a mistake he couldn’t take back.

“No.”

“Well, here’s the deal.” Marcus started the car and steered out of the parking lot. “You can either tell me what happened, and I’ll figure out what your punishment will be from that. Or you can remain silent, and I’ll go with what the principal and the other boy say.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Fair?” Marcus clenched his jaw. He would not lose his patience. “That’s not the issue, son. The issue is whether you’re going to be the one in control, or if you’re going to let someone else have that honor.”

The silence in the car was thick with the hot afternoon air and a teenage boy’s simmering anger. “I didn’t start it,” he finally said, quietly staring out the side window.

“I didn’t think you did. Tell me what happened.” He tried to use the voice that had worked so well for Carolyn in coaxing their son into opening up. Times like this he really missed her. Missed the mother she’d become the day they’d adopted Ryan.

“We were having a discussion in lit class.” Silence grew.

Lit class? What book was he reading in that class? Marcus shook his head. It didn’t matter. Ryan did.

“Nick said—” Ryan’s voice cracked. “Nick said my real mom didn’t like me and that’s why she gave me away.” His broken voice faded to a whisper before he finished.

CHAPTER THREE

WHEN MARCUS HAD been Ryan’s age, his father had come home on one of his infrequent leaves from who knew where. James Skylar had offered to help a buddy fix his deck and had subsequently volunteered Marcus to join them. Somewhere in the process, something went wrong. Marcus couldn’t remember much since he’d gotten a concussion from a wooden beam that fell on his head.

He felt like that now, sitting next to Ryan at the stoplight.

“Care—” He cleared his throat. “Care to explain?” They’d never hidden Ryan’s adoption, but they’d gotten him when he was three days old. It had been a closed adoption. His birth mother had wanted it that way, and they’d respected her wishes. The reality of the situation seldom crossed his mind anymore. Apparently, it did Ryan’s.

With Carolyn’s death, he probably should have expected this. But he hadn’t even thought about it.

“We’re reading some short stories for lit class,” Ryan said, breaking into Marcus’s thoughts. “Mr. Hudson has us discuss them. One is about a bunch of kids in an orphanage.” Ryan shrugged and turned his gaze from the passenger window to stare out the windshield. “Nick made a crack about kids whose birth parents gave them away—said their mom and dad didn’t like them.”

Marcus took a deep breath. “You know that’s ridiculous, right? We’ve talked about this before, remember?”

“I remember. I know it’s not true. It’s just—” Ryan went silent for a couple of blocks, and Marcus didn’t push him. “It’s just that...” He shifted in his seat. “I wasn’t mad for me so much...”

Ryan turned to look at Marcus. They pulled into the drive, and Marcus killed the engine.

“I was mad for...for my birth mother,” Ryan said. “He had no right. He doesn’t know why she gave me up.” His indignation came across loud and clear.

Marcus took another deep breath before saying anything. “I’m proud of you for wanting to stick up for her, for caring, but it’s not something to fight about.”

“I know.” Ryan reached for the door handle and pushed it open. “But what he said was so wrong.” He slammed the door closed with a bit too much force.

Marcus followed him, grabbing his own backpack from the rear. He watched Ryan walk inside. His son was growing up so fast, and their conversation brought back memories of when they’d first brought Ryan home. Good memories.

Had that really been thirteen years ago?

Inside the kitchen, both backpacks hit the kitchen table with a loud thud, and Marcus watched Ryan head to the fridge. It was a routine Carolyn never would have allowed, but one they’d fallen into since moving here.

Carolyn. He thought of his wife, and, while his heart still hitched at her loss, it wasn’t nearly as bad as it used to be. He thought about his conversation with Principal Hawkins—

—who wasn’t anything like he’d expected from a school principal. She was young and pretty—the first woman to pique his interest in a long time. And while she hadn’t smiled much during their meeting, he got the impression she normally did.

He’d told her that they’d gone to counseling, and they had. Not just after Carolyn’s death, but for months before. Hospice had been a godsend as he’d tried to deal with her impending death, as well as Ryan and his reactions.

“Can I have the rest of the lasagna?” Ryan’s muffled voice came from inside the fridge.

“For dinner?”

“No, now. For a snack.” He turned around, the take-out container in his hands, his expression hopeful.

“Uh, no. I’ll make dinner in a bit.” Another skill he’d picked up after losing Carolyn.

“I’ve got an idea.”

Marcus nearly groaned. Those words always meant that Ryan was up to something. He smiled. How had he managed to raise a son who was a con artist at heart? Marcus leaned back against the edge of the counter and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting. “What?”

“I can eat the lasagna now and get started right away on my homework.”

“And?”

“And I’ll be done in time to play in a Castle Battle tournament tonight at seven.”

“Ryan, it’s a school night.” Video games were normally off-limits except on the weekends.

“It’s the tournament of the year. Come on, Dad. I’m really good at it. I could win.”

Marcus looked at his son. The bruise around his eye was going to be dark by morning. “Put ice on that eye tonight.” Principal Hawkins’s words came to him. Did Ryan deserve a break in this? As it was, he’d be spending the next week in detention after school. Was that punishment enough? It wasn’t as if Ryan regularly got into trouble.

Ryan’s earlier explanation almost made Marcus proud of his son. Proud of his convictions, anyway.

But Marcus also knew Ryan. He’d learned over the past few months how to deal with Ryan’s “ideas.” He could “outdeal” him, or accept the proposition. Carolyn had been so much better at this than he was.

He didn’t have the energy for dealing tonight. “I want you off the computer by ten. Lights out by eleven.”

Ryan did a fist pump and shoved the plastic container into the microwave.

“But—” Marcus knew better than to let Ryan think he was totally off the hook.

Ryan slowly pivoted on his heel. “But what?”

“Tonight you get the tournament. Tomorrow we’ll discuss your punishment.”

The boy’s smile melted. “I’m sorry you got called, Dad.”

“But you’re not sorry for the fight?”

Ryan had to think a minute. “Not really.” The microwave’s timer sounded, and Ryan grabbed the hot dish. “Gotta go. Got homework to do.”

“We will discuss this,” Marcus yelled over the sound of Ryan’s footsteps on the stairs.

“Sure, Dad,” Ryan yelled back, his footsteps crossing the ceiling overhead.

Marcus sighed. To be young and so resilient. “Sorry, Carolyn,” he whispered, “I’m trying.” But the life she’d tried to help him build, the one with the family that came home and had dinner together every night, just wasn’t meant to be.

Marcus glanced at the kitchen table. It was covered with his backpack, books and laptop. They wouldn’t be eating there anytime soon.

Besides, it wasn’t as if he had a lot of extra time. Today was the deadline for the midterm essays. It could be an awfully long night.

* * *

EVERYONE ON THE teaching staff took a turn monitoring detention. While it wasn’t the norm for Addie to take a rotation, she was happy to step in since Lindy was out of the rotation right now. It was swim season, and between coaches and club sponsors, options were few.

Today there were four kids seated in the desks where, normally, Mr. Hudson taught English lit. Addie knew all four of them. She’d been the one to assign them detention.

Ryan was already seated in the back, his work out in front of him. Two other boys were here for fighting as well, and a girl, Melissa Hopper, had cut history class one time too many. Nick was nowhere to be found. Why wasn’t she surprised?

“Afternoon, everyone.” Addie put her own stack of work on the teacher’s desk. The irony that she was in detention, something she’d never gotten in school the first time around, wasn’t lost on her.

There were a few mumbled responses. The door slammed open then, and Nick came stomping in. He slumped into the first seat he came to, dropped his backpack and propped his feet on the chair in front of him.

“Good of you to join us, Mr. Holden.” She stood and walked over to him. “You can work on your homework for the next hour.”

“I don’t got none.”

“You do know I can call your teachers and check, right?” She really tried to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“They already went home.” Defiance came across loud and clear.

She debated arguing with him. Part of her was tempted to let him sit there and be bored for the next hour. It would serve him right. She owed it to her staff to encourage him to get his work done.

“You ain’t my mother, you know.”

Thank God. “No, I’m not. I’m your principal. Almost the same thing.” As a teacher, she’d often spent more time with some of the kids than their parents did.

He glared at her and, with a heavy sigh, reached for the backpack. The rasp of the bag’s zipper was loud in the quiet room.

“Thank you,” she said and returned to the desk. The other kids were watching, a fact she didn’t acknowledge. Ryan’s eyes were wide, though, when Nick pulled out his phone. “You know the rules, Nick. No phones. Put it away. Now, or it’s mine.”

“But I don’t have anything else to do.”

“Sorry, that’s the way it is. Kindly, put it away.”

Ryan watched closely as Nick sullenly shoved the phone into a side pocket. She could see Ryan wanted to get up and help her out. Thankfully, he didn’t. That protective streak. She wondered if he’d gotten that from his father.

Marcus Skylar’s face came to mind, and she found herself curious about him.

He’d done a good job with Ryan. The boy was a good kid. She’d done some investigating after they’d left her office. Paul Hudson had been more than happy to fill her in on what he knew. He’d defended Ryan, but didn’t know the complete details. She’d get them, she knew. She just had to find the right person to tell her. If it wasn’t for the school’s no-tolerance policy on fighting, she wasn’t sure Ryan would be here right now.

The hour dragged by. Even Ryan ran out of work to do and started fidgeting in his seat before it was time to leave.

“It looks like most of you finished your work,” Addie finally said. The looks she got were almost comical. She could tell they were hoping she’d let them go early. Not a chance, but they didn’t have to know that. She looked at the expectant faces. With the exception of Nick, these were all pretty good kids.

“Let’s talk about a couple of things.” She walked around to perch on the front of the desk. “How many of you are looking for summer jobs?” Eighth grade—the year before high school—was usually the year kids started to seriously think about jobs, about spending money and getting out of the house to hang out with their friends.

Three of the five students shot their hands up. Nick ignored her, and Ryan shrugged. “Ryan?”

“I don’t know. We just moved here.”

She nodded. “That can be a challenge. Does anyone have any ideas to help Ryan get to know the area?”

“What part of town do you live in?” Melissa asked.

“In Sommerfield. Over by the baseball fields.”

That wasn’t far from where Addie lived, and where she’d grown up. “You could see if the parks department is hiring,” one of the other boys offered. “They take care of the ball fields. Use kids to do it sometimes.”

“That’d be cool.” Ryan grinned and nodded. “I’m hoping to play baseball this year.”

Nick paid attention to the conversation for the first time. “Yeah, like you could throw a ball.”

Addie speared him with a glance. “You like being in detention, Nick?” she asked him. “That wasn’t polite.” She looked over at Ryan, half expecting to see either anger or hurt in his eyes. The boy was standing, hard determination on his face. “Sit down, Ryan. Nick, apologize.”

“Sorry,” Nick mumbled.

“As an apology, that could use some work.” It had been a whole lot easier when she’d had to deal with her three brothers. At least then she’d had the final weapon—Mom.

Sighing, she chose to take the win with the other kids and ignore Nick’s behavior. “Back to our conversation. Anyone have other ideas to help Ryan? Each other?”

“There’s a strip mall east of there that has lots of shops,” the other boy offered. Everyone, except Nick again, nodded.

“Lots of good ideas,” Addie said. “Here’s what I’d like you all to think about. As the principal, I get people contacting me who are looking to hire students. I hear about opportunities. I’m more than happy to share that information with anyone who shows potential.”

Four heads nodded. “But...” She looked at each kid, holding their gazes for a long moment. “Detention doesn’t show potential.” Nearly every gaze fell. “So, think about your actions, about what you do through to the end of the year. You stay out of here for the rest of the year, and I’ll seriously consider sharing any job information with you.”

“Thanks, Ms. Hawkins.” Melissa smiled. Like the others, she wasn’t a bad kid—she just needed to engage and want to work at school.

Addie made the same offer to any of the kids who were in detention. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. Sometimes they just needed a little nudge in the right direction. Other times, nothing worked. She glanced at Nick.

“Okay, everyone. The hour’s up. You can leave, but remember what I said.” The noise of everyone gathering their belongings filled the room. “See you all here tomorrow.”

She or one of the teachers would, anyway.

Ryan stopped at the door and looked back. “Ms. Hawkins?”

“Yes?”

“Can I ask you a sorta personal question?”

“Uh, yes. Not sure I’ll answer.” She’d learned to hedge her bets a long time ago.

“How long have you lived in Austin?”

“Most of my life. Why?”

He shrugged. “Just curious. We lived in Chicago before we came here. It’s different.”

“I’d expect it to be. Do you miss Chicago?”

He thought about it for a minute. “I miss some of my friends, but my dad’s happier here. I like that. Have you ever been to Chicago?”

Her answer seemed to be important to him. He must have a strong sense of pride for his hometown. “No. But I’d like to.”

“Are you sure?” he asked urgently.

“I think I’d have noticed.”

“Oh.” He looked a little crestfallen.

Addie frowned. This seemed a bit more than hometown pride. Her answer seemed to confuse him. “But I promise, if I ever go, I’ll be sure and check with you to see about what I need to see.”

“There’s a lot of cool stuff.” He nodded, though his smile didn’t return. “You gotta try the pizza.”

“I’ll remember that. You’d better hustle so you don’t miss the bus.”

“I walk home. It’s close enough.”

She nodded. “Healthier, too.”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.” And when he was gone, the silence of the room suddenly seemed heavy. Addie gathered her things, her mind already three steps ahead. She still had way too much to do before she headed home. But she had to admit, she’d enjoyed chatting with the students. Damn Lindy for being right.

* * *

ADDIE TAPPED HER pen on the desk. Another Monday was nearly over—for the kids anyway. Surprisingly, after a week of supervising detention, she missed it. She’d managed to get something done while the kids worked on their homework.

And she’d gotten to know them all a little bit. They’d ended each session with a few minutes of discussion. And every day Ryan had stayed behind to ask a question or two.

He now knew that her favorite color was blue. He’d learned that while she hadn’t been to Chicago, she had gone to college at the University of Illinois in Urbana. That answer had made his eyes light up with his smile. He’d been extremely interested in hearing about her siblings, especially Wyatt’s ranch and the horses.

She missed their interactions. Glancing at the clock, she figured it’d be another couple of hours, at least, before she finished with the pile of paperwork. She had finally figured out the budget, though. She wanted to pat herself on the back for getting that done. Now the employee files perched on her desk taunted her. She sighed.

Time to look at year-end reviews. What exactly did this have to do with education?

“I’m heading over to the admin office with this,” Gina said from the doorway, a box in her arms. “Do you need anything before I take off?”

“A million dollars?” Addie mumbled to herself. “No. Thanks.” She stared out the window. The bus stop was just outside, and she watched as kids waited and the big yellow buses arrived.

Maybe a cup of tea would help her concentration. She stood, intending to head to the teachers’ lounge. That’s when she saw them.

Ryan was with another boy, leaning against the wall at the corner of the gym building. This was his first day out of detention.

She couldn’t quite identify who the other boy was. Their heads were bent over the screen of one of their phones. She was almost afraid to wonder what had grabbed their attention. Whatever it was, it was apparently quite enthralling.

She liked seeing the smiles on both their faces, though she didn’t really want to know what was going on inside the heads of two thirteen-year-old boys. Still—

She moved closer to the window. From here, she could see them more clearly. The other boy was Dex Silvano. Dex was one of those kids everyone loved, but who she was convinced would grow up to be something great—like a jewel thief or used-car salesman.

He and his family lived only a couple of blocks from her, and Addie frequently ran into his mother at the grocery store. Addie knew more about Dex than she did any of the other kids at the school. That wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

Maybe some fresh air would help more than tea. She headed to the door and outside. “Hey, Principal Hawkins,” rang out several times. She smiled, stopping to talk to several kids who’d been her students last year. It helped fill up that little hole that grew inside when she spent too much time alone.

She wondered why Ryan and Dex were still here. They both lived within walking distance. Addie herself sometimes walked to work on nice days. Like today.

“Hello, boys.”

Ryan looked up, and, while his smile didn’t go away, it faded some. She felt a little guilty. He thumbed the screen of his phone dark.

“Hello, Ms. Hawkins.” He shoved the phone into his pocket. “Am I in trouble?”

Addie laughed. “No. I’m just taking a break. Thought I’d enjoy the sunshine.” She lifted her hands toward the sky. “Nice day, huh?”

“Yeah.”

She looked over at the other boy. “Hi, Dex.”

“Hello.” The boy nodded.

“You heading home?” she hinted with a glance toward Ryan.

“Yeah. My dad’s picking me up today.” Ryan gathered up his backpack and hitched it over his shoulder. Dex didn’t have his backpack with him. She almost asked him where it was, but didn’t. His mother would be checking on him, making sure he got his homework done.

“Baseball tryouts start tomorrow,” she reminded Ryan. He’d mentioned it the first day of detention, but not otherwise. Nick’s presence hadn’t helped.

He looked up, seemingly surprised she remembered. “Yeah.”

“Are you going to try out?”

He shrugged. “I dunno.”

She looked closer. “What happened to the boy who couldn’t wait for practice to start last week?”

Ryan glanced over at Dex. Was he worried about what his friend would think of his wanting to play baseball? Dex didn’t let her down, though.

“You didn’t tell me you were playin’ ball. Cool. What position?”

“I dunno yet. I might not make the team.”

“Did something happen? Why the doubts?” she asked.

“No doubts.” Ryan glanced sideways at Dex again. She inwardly smiled. Oh, yeah, even thirteen-year-old boys had to uphold their macho image. He reminded her of her brother DJ. At about the same age, he’d wanted so badly to be just like their brother Wyatt.

“I think you can do whatever you set your mind to.” She repeated the words she’d heard her mom tell DJ back then. “But make sure it’s you you’re trying to be, not someone else. You—” she emphasized the word “—like baseball don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“You should go for it, man. Show that dumbass Nick—” As if suddenly recognizing what he’d said, and to whom, Dex colored. “Uh—”

“I’ll let you off the hook for your language, Dex.” She didn’t want it to interfere with her conversation. “But I expect you—both of you—to let me, or one of your teachers, know if there are problems with other kids.”

“Everything’s fine,” Ryan answered too quickly.

And there it was. The lie he’d nearly told her last week in her office, and in detention. It hurt that he did so now.

“Well, have a good afternoon, gentlemen.” She turned away, then paused and turned back. “Remember, my door is always open.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ryan whispered.

Had she missed something? Why was he distant all of a sudden? She took a few steps backward. “Maybe I’ll stop in at practice tomorrow. See what coach is planning this year.”

That got a smile out of him, and she was shocked at how it transformed his features. She couldn’t look away.

Memories of another boy, another time—an equally devastating smile—overwhelmed her. Before the ache became too much, she shook her head. Reality, and the school grounds, thankfully returned.

Marcus Skylar was going to have his hands full with this one. Someday, some girl was going to fall head over heels for that smile. Addie just prayed Ryan didn’t break that girl’s heart like Cal had hers.

As if summoned by her thoughts, a late-model Jeep pulled up to the curb near the boys. Ryan’s father sat behind the wheel. He glanced at Addie and their gazes locked. For just an instant. He smiled, not the way his son had, but gentle and warm, inviting.