Michael hadn’t missed the big “We” in her statement. It was as good as hearing her say she loved him. “Oh, I don’t know. I feel pretty rich most of the time, and I have all a man could want. I have a great wife and make a living from my art. I don’t know if it gets any better than this.”
“I guess I need to call the realtor and put in my offer,” Carrie said. “Sorry, we got to talking business this morning instead of—you know.”
“Damn right I know,” Michael said sternly, swinging his legs to the floor. “The phones are staying in the kitchen tonight. We are not bringing them to the bedroom.”
Carrie laughed and rolled to her knees. “If I get the gallery, we’ll need to celebrate—conservatively of course. Pizza and beer. We’ll have champagne at the opening. I’m thinking Christmas.”
“
Christmas
?” Michael said, torn between shock and laughter at her ambition. “That’s two months away, and you haven’t even bought the place yet.”
Carrie just smiled. “Trust me,” she said.
Michael smiled back and nodded, because he absolutely did.
Chapter 10
Shane pulled up to Reesa’s Saturday afternoon and found Zack shooting hoops. The mini-van was parked on the street out of harm’s way. The boy didn’t even stop what he was doing to wave or acknowledge Shane’s arrival.
Shane pulled his bike in behind the min-van and parked. Shucking his jacket and helmet as he walked up, he tossed them on the grass next to the driveway.
“Hey, Zack,” Shane said, getting only a nod in reply. “You pissed—I mean, mad at me about something?”
“No,” Zack said, laughing at the man despite his anger over things he couldn’t change. Shane was direct. Zack liked that about him. It reminded him of his father.
“It’s not you, dude. Not everything is about you. Didn’t they teach you that at head doctor school?”
Zack’s snarky attitude had Shane raising an eyebrow, but he didn’t blast back. The boy was obviously hurting and venting his hurt to him. His training had taught him that meant Zack thought Shane was safe.
“So you going to tell me what’s wrong or am I supposed to just guess?” Shane demanded, snagging the ball, shooting it and missing on purpose. It rebounded, and Zack caught it easily.
“It’s nothing you can change unless you can make me old enough to get a job or rig it so Aunt Teresa wins the lottery,” Zack told him. “Not even the
Winged Protector
can make my grandparents understand that Chelsea and I don’t want to live with them.”
Shane grabbed the basketball from Zack on a bounce, spun and shot it into the hoop flawlessly. He could execute the moves. He just couldn’t sustain them for long. Many coaches had tried to help him learn to do it. He had the height and the build. He just didn’t have the right motivation.
“Nice, dude. Did you ever play hoops for real?” Zack asked.
“Only for fun,” Shane told him. “I like physical activity, but don’t have the mental focus to play a team sport. It’s hard to keep your head in the game if you keep drifting off to daydream. I tend to stop and walk off in the middle of things. My brother is the sports enthusiast in my family, but he doesn’t play either.”
“Brian does that same daydream thing. He has the moves, but not the interest,” Zack said morosely. “I have the moves and the interest, but that’s not going to help Aunt Teresa come up with more money to take care of us. She won’t let me quit ball practice to work because she’s says the basketball scholarship is more important to my future. She said she’d figure it out, but I say what’s it going to matter if I’m living with my grandparents? Papa Lansing is going to want to call the shots with my hoops if I’m living with him, just like he used to do with Dad.”
Shane grabbed the ball when it rebounded and shot it accurately into the hoop again.
“You’re only a couple years away from being on your own enough to call your own shots,” he said firmly. “Reesa’s probably right about your future. If you have the kind of talent your father had, you owe it to yourself to work toward that. It’s what your father would have wanted, and it will pay off in the long run.”
“Yeah, but what about the short run?” Zack asked, shooting the ball with the full force of his hurt. It bounced off the garage door and he caught it without thought.
“Zack—you’re instinctive. That’s not a gift everyone has. What can I do to help?” Shane asked, leaving as much control as he could in the boy’s hands.
“Pray the universe drops a freaking fortune on our heads,” Zack said angrily. “Even though it’s embarrassing at my age, I can live without a car to drive, but I don’t want to be a whole city away from Sara and Brian. And I don’t want to go to a freaking private school. I don’t understand why they can’t just give money to Aunt Teresa so she can take care of us.”
Shane nodded. “Adults are strange. My brother and I tell our father that growing up sucks.”
“You got that right, but I won’t care once I’m up. I’m just not up enough to do anything to really make a difference right now,” Zack said. “Probably can’t get a job anyway if I can’t even drive. I hate this.”
“Driving is easily fixed. I’ll teach you,” Shane said.
“Seriously?” Zack let the ball bounce and fall. “I took the class and passed. I just never got my license because my parents died. We were supposed to go get it—well anyway, I was going to use Aunt Teresa’s car. Now that’s gone, too—like everything else.”
“What car?” Shane asked, thinking there might be a car in the garage.
“She got rid of it right after she moved in with us. It was just like Aunt Jillian’s, only green. We used to tease her about it matching her eyes,” Zack said. “She’s doing all she can. That’s why I’m not in the house storming around and making it worse. I don’t want to be one more problem for her.”
Shane’s jaw tightened. He hadn’t been nearly as good as this boy at the same age. He had been into cars and girls and hanging out with Joe. He’d been into sneaking beers at some of Michael’s college parties until his brother ran him off. This boy was never going to see that level of youth. It had been taken away from him six months ago.
“You can drive my car to get your license. It’s a good piece of crap and reliable as hell—heck. Sorry. My brother and father are very passionate men. I spent a lot time around them and the swearing just happens,” Shane said.
“Your swearing don’t mean shit to me, dude,” Zack said grinning at Shane’s widening eyes. “Coach broke me of it. He says you can’t swear on the floor and be taken seriously as a professional.”
“He’s got a point. You can’t do it in my line of work either,” Shane said.
“Your cartoon pictures get offended easily?” Zack teased.
Shane reached out and punched Zack full in the arm just to let the kid know how physical a man he was and that messing with him too much was not a healthy idea.
“I’m going to make you call me Dr. Larson next month,” Shane said, watching Zack rub his arm and laugh. “Then we’ll see who laughs.”
“Ouch—I think you bruised my arm,” Zack said, laughing.
“Better than your head,” Shane told him.
“Lame—dude. Very lame,” Zack told him, liking his grin. “Watch it when you go in, Aunt Teresa is in a weepy a mood. I think it’s getting close to that time of the month if you hear what I’m saying.”
Shane nodded. “I wasn’t nearly as astute about females at your age.”
“Chelsea doesn’t suffer in silence. Neither does Aunt Jillian. Aunt Teresa—well, she just cries. She’s a lot like my girlfriend,” Zack said.
“You have a girlfriend?” Shane asked, not sure why he was surprised.
Zack snorted. “Can’t believe I’m getting grief from a man who looks like he can’t afford clothes and a haircut. Did you not see how the dweeb was dressed? All Aunt Teresa’s boyfriends before you were like that. I can’t believe she even looked twice in your direction.”
Shane looked at his clothes. He loved his jeans with the holes in them. “I shaved. Don’t I get points for that?” He picked up his helmet and jacket where he’d tossed them.
“You might with Aunt Teresa,” Zack said with a shrug. “Still got a ways to go to look—normal.”
Shane punched his arm again, but Zack lessened the impact dodging away.
“One day I’m going to outgrow you,” Zack warned. “My father was even bigger than you.”
Shane grinned, his brown eyes flashing at the boy’s nerve. “Bring it on, Lansing.”
Zack pointed a warning finger at Shane as he watched him heading into the house laughing. Shane might not be able to fix their real problems, but it was nice to have another real guy around, Zack thought
***
Shane found Chelsea in the living room looking at magazines. He unloaded his helmet and jacket on the floor behind a chair.
“Hey,” Shane said.
“She’s in the kitchen,” Chelsea said, smiling slightly and going back to her magazines.
Shane did find Reesa in the kitchen. He could smell chili on the stove. The dining table was full of half folded laundry which Teresa was steadily working her way through.
“Hi,” she said. “I heard you outside shooting hoops with Zack.”
And she was wondering if Zack had told Shane what was going on. There hadn’t really been a time for them to talk when she saw him last. Reesa wasn’t even sure she wanted to share it with him. Her brain was still trying to wrap around it, but she’d told the kids because if it happened, they needed time to come to terms with it.
Ignoring Reesa’s stoicism, Shane walked to her and bent to kiss her hello. Despite her cool welcome, her lips parted sweetly under his. He kissed her a second time, feeling happy to see her and realizing this was the relationship he’d been looking to have with a girlfriend. It felt so normal to be with someone he could kiss when he wanted and who would kiss him back.
“Hi,” Shane said. “You look busy as always. I needed a break from my work and thought I would swing by to see if I could hang out for a bit.”
“Sure. I’m making chili. You can stay for dinner if you like,” she said, making the offer even though she wasn’t sure about having him there. “We’re going to Zack’s game this evening if you’re interested.”
“Sounds great. Where are Sara and Brian?” Shane asked.
“Brian is in his room—as usual,” Reesa said, frowning. “Sara is at a birthday party. She rode with a friend from school. They’ll be back in about an hour.”
“Think it would be okay if I hunt down Brian and visit? We didn’t get to talk much the other night,” Shane said.
Reesa nodded. “His room is in what we call the boy’s end of the hall. Last room on the left. Chelsea is the only female on that side.”
Shane nodded and headed in the direction she indicated.
***
Shane knocked on Brian’s door and thought he heard a muffled response, but wasn’t sure.
“It’s Shane,” he announced. “Can I come in?”
Moments later the door swung open. When Shane just stood there, the boy swung it wider.
“Are you coming in or not?” Brian demanded.
Snorting at the demand, Shane walked inside. Brian immediately closed the door behind him.
“You keeping people out, or yourself in?” Shane asked as casually as he could make the question come out.
“Both,” Brian said. “I can’t stand all the noise in the house. I can’t hear myself thinking.”
Shane looked around, not quite sure what to do until he spied the pictures taped to the wall.
“Are those drawings yours?” he asked, walking closer to inspect them. “They’re really good.”
“They’re not as good as yours,” Brian said.
“A lot of it is just practice, but it’s obvious you have talent,” Shane said. “I’ve been drawing superheroes since I was nine.”
“Me too,” Brian said. “Mom and Dad bought me an art kit for Christmas.”
“You’re doing really well for three years practice,” Shane told him. “You taking any extra classes?”
Brian laughed “I don’t even like the ones I have. Why would I want more classes?”
“I meant art classes. Art classes are different,” Shane said. “High school art is fun. It was really the only class I enjoyed.”
“Thought you were going to be a doctor,” Brian said, throwing himself backwards on the bed.
“I eventually found something else I enjoyed almost as well as art,” Shane said easily. “I’m not a doctor yet, but I will get my doctorial degree next month. I’m planning to do research.”
“Why would you do that if you can draw?” Brian asked.
Shane found a mostly clean spot on the floor and sat down to lean against a wall. “I’m writing a book about how people of divorced families cope.”
Brian wrinkled his face and snorted. “Are you trying to get famous?”
Shane laughed at Brian and his very simple view of everything. “I’m a child of divorced parents. I guess you could call it my personal therapy.”
“If
you
need therapy, they need to refund your tuition,” Brian said caustically.
“You’re too smart-ass—I mean, smart for your own good,” Shane said, giving the snickering boy a narrowed look. “And you sound like my best friend. Just because you know how to help other people doesn’t mean you can automatically solve all your own problems.”