“Where’s Amy today?” Carin glanced at the clock above the classroom door. The school day had ended nearly two hours ago, and she assumed Corey had doubled back to the classroom following football practice. His hair was damp, and he’d slung his equipment bag over one shoulder. “I missed seeing her second period.”
“She has a cold, so her mom kept her home. She’ll probably be back tomorrow, but I can drop by her house and take her homework if you want.”
“That would be nice.” Carin jotted a quick note on a memo pad, then tore off the sheet and handed it to Corey. “Here you go. She’ll need her grammar workbook, so if you know her lock combination you might want to stop by her locker on your way out and get it. And please tell her I hope she feels better.”
“I will.” He juggled his loaded backpack with the equipment bag. “Jake should be here soon, but I wanted a minute to talk to you if you…have the time.”
“Of course I have the time.” Carin dropped her pen and motioned to him to have a seat at the desk nearest hers. “What’s on your mind?”
“Lots of things.” He unloaded his equipment bag and then his backpack onto the floor beside the desk. “I’m really sorry about Scooter, but I’m glad he’s going to be OK.”
“Thanks. It’s been nice of Jake to check on him during the day while we’re at school. The doctor said he’ll heal fine, but it’s going to take a while.” Carin set aside a handful of essays, forcing away the sadness that swept through. She fought to keep a tremor from her voice. “I’m so thankful you were there to help Jake. I don’t think I could have…I know I couldn’t have—it was awful to see Scooter hurting so.”
“No problem. I understand. I wanted to help.” Corey swiped shaggy hair from his eyes to look at her. “Jake said the guy who broke into your house probably hurt Scooter. Why would anyone want to do
that
?”
“He’s not…a very nice person.”
“I figured as much.” Corey leaned back in the seat and stretched his legs. “But why would he want to hurt you?”
“Because I wouldn’t give him what he wanted.”
“What did he want?”
“It’s complicated.”
“And you think I won’t understand.” Corey huffed and shook his head. “Because I’m just a kid.”
“No. It’s not like that at all.
I
don’t even understand it, really.” Carin sighed and shifted in the desk, turning toward him. She’d made a mess of things, and now, looking back on it all, she had a hard time understanding just how she’d allowed it all to happen. At the time, Phillip had seemed genuinely concerned—even kind-hearted. She’d ignored every red flag…each niggle of doubt that had surfaced along the way, until it was too late. Now, everything seemed so clear, but it no longer mattered. The damage was done.
“It’s a long story, Corey, but Phillip hurt my brother. I think he…I mean, I
know
he bought alcohol for my brother, and it led to other things…bad things. I didn’t know that until later, kind of like putting the pieces of a puzzle together. But when I learned the truth, and confronted him about it, it made him mad. And I guess that’s why he hurt me—wants to still hurt me.”
“How did you find out?”
“I found a journal my brother kept…later on, after—well, just after.”
“How old was your brother?”
“Only seventeen. He was about to start his senior year of high school.”
“Wow.” Corey let out a low whistle. “Jake would have my hide, for sure, if he ever caught me with beer or anything like that.”
“Be glad for that, Corey. I know you think Jake’s tough on you, but it’s just because he cares so much and pays attention. Being a pastor, working with kids, he knows all the dangers that are out there…and he worries, too.”
“I know. Maybe not here”—Corey tapped a finger against the side of his head—“but here.” He pressed a splayed palm to his chest, right over his heart. “It still bugs the heck out of me sometimes, though. Everyone else gets away with stuff, but me…no way. I think Jake’s part hawk.”
“Maybe so.” Carin laughed as she placed her elbow on the desk top and rested her chin on the upturned palm of her hand. “How’s the newspaper coming this week?”
“Good. Amy did most of the work…since I have football practice and all.”
“The two of you work pretty well together, and I’m glad because I guess I
did
pile a lot on your plate.”
“Why?”
“You remind me of Cameron, before....” She lowered her gaze, the truth stirring a wave of emotions…and memories.
“He died, didn’t he?”
“Yes, he did.” She nodded sharply, her throat suddenly tight. “I see something in you, Corey, something that tugs on my heart.”
“What?”
“A smart kid who’s struggling to figure out how life works.”
“I don’t feel smart anymore.” Corey frowned. “It used to be so easy—school. I didn’t even have to think much. But now, it’s really hard to care. I mean, nothing is for sure, right? I can walk outside and get hit by a mail truck or struck by lightning and that’s it—game over. So why bother?”
“Because there are two sides to every coin, and what if nothing bad happens and you’re here for the long haul? What are you going to do with your life—just sit around and wait for the next tragedy?”
“That’s what Jake says. He’s Mr. Sunshine, for sure. And I can’t figure out why. I’ve pretty much ruined his life.”
“Doesn’t look that way from my corner.”
“No?”
“No.”
There was a slight pause as Corey considered her words. Then he nodded slightly and continued. “Jake said your mom died, too.”
Carin sucked in a breath. “That’s right.”
“So you get it, don’t you?”
“Uh-huh.” She knew exactly what he meant.
“The kids here, most of them don’t. They look at me like I have some kind of disease. Some ask stupid questions, and the rest avoid talking about my parents—or the fact that I live with Jake—altogether. Amy and Dillon are the only ones who don’t make me feel…weird. At least not
that
kind of weird.”
“There’ll be others who’ll understand, the older you get. I promise.”
“Yesterday…what happened…well, it brought back a lot of memories. I wish they just…wouldn’t still hurt so much.”
“I know what you mean.” Carin twisted the mother-of-pearl ring she always wore on her right index finger—a gift handed down from her grandmother to her mom, and then to her at her high school graduation several years ago. “I wish I had an answer for that, but I don’t. I guess it just takes time.”
“I like the way you admit it when you don’t know the answer to something. Some people—well, they act like they know everything.” Corey rolled his eyes. “No one knows everything, not even Jake.”
“You’re right.” Carin studied Corey’s expressive blue eyes, the same shade as Jake’s, and the dark waves of hair that were a mirror of Jake’s, as well. He fidgeted, running his finger along a ridge someone had carved into the surface of the desk top with a pen. “Jake said you had nightmares after we found Scooter.”
“Not too bad. They still come every once in a while, but I can deal with it.” Corey shrugged. “Jake likes you—a lot. I can tell by the way he looks at you, kind of dewy-eyed.”
“Dewy-eyed.” Carin laughed. “That’s so—”
“Corny, I know.”
“I was going to say sweet. That’s so sweet.”
“Whatever. At first, it made me mad—and kind of scared, if you really want to know the truth. Because I thought, well, that you’d be like Rachelle. She wanted Jake to send me to a foster home.” He sucked a breath, shook his head. “She hated me. Talk about having nightmares.”
“I know. Jake told me.”
“He did?” Cory’s eyes widened. “I’m glad he didn’t…send me away, I mean.”
“Me, too.” Carin stretched a hand across the desk to brush the hair from his eyes. “He never would, no matter how hard you try to make him. You don’t need to worry about that. It’s a waste of energy.”
Corey held her gaze. “You’re not like her…like Rachelle. Not at all.”
“Hmmm…” Carin’s hand slipped to his cheek for the slightest moment before she drew back. “Thanks.”
“I just wanted to tell you that. I needed to—” He turned as footsteps echoed down the hall. “I’ll bet that’s Jake.”
Carin glanced at the clock above the white board. “Five-fifteen. I’ll bet your right.”
Jake rounded the corner and strode through the doorway. “Hey, Corey.”
“Hey back.”
“Hi, Carin.” He leaned against the doorjamb as his gaze locked with hers. She imagined he saw the dark circles that shadowed her eyes. She’d done her best to conceal them beneath a layer of makeup that morning but had failed miserably. “You doing OK?”
“Yeah.” She unfolded herself from the desk, went to him, and sighed as he pulled her in. The soft fabric of his polo shirt, the clean scent of aftershave, comforted. “And you?”
He kissed the top of her head. “A little road weary, but good. I’ve been at meetings all day, and then made a quick trip to the hospital to visit with Mrs. Landers after she came out of surgery.”
“How is she?”
“Healing just fine. She said to thank you for the books you sent over. She’ll have plenty of time to read while she’s recovering.”
“Good. I’m glad she liked them.”
“I missed lunch.” Jake patted his belly and turned to Corey. “You hungry?”
“You know I am.”
“How about some Chinese from Ming Tree? You haven’t made silly faces at the koi fish for a while. I bet they miss you.”
“Probably.” Corey slipped from the desk and grabbed his equipment bag. “But I only want to go if Miss O’Malley comes, too.”
“That works,” Jake said. “Because I went to check on Scooter, and the vet said he’ll be well enough to come home tonight.”
“Really?” Corey gave a fist pump.
“Yes, really.” Jake smiled. “So gather your stuff and let’s go.”
“On the way to dinner can we stop at Amy’s house to drop off her homework?”
“Homework?” Jake pressed a hand to Corey’s forehead. “Who are you, and where is my brother?”
****
Jake watched the two of them—Corey and Carin—and realized that something in Corey had changed. It was a subtle change, granted, but a change all the same. What had he missed? Corey listened and laughed—actually laughed—over a silly joke Carin shared. Imagine that.
Once Rachelle snubbed him, Corey wouldn’t give her the time of day. It got to the point, in fact, that if Jake was with one it meant not being with the other, or enduring a litany of jabs passed back and forth until he could no longer stand it.
Again, he tried not to compare but couldn’t seem to help himself.
After dinner, they picked up Scooter from the vet and then drove to Carin’s house. Corey sat on the living room floor, cuddling the cat like a baby. He refused to let go.
“I still wish you’d file a restraining order,” Jake said to Carin. “Then if anything else happens, at least they’ll have some kind of record.”
“I went yesterday morning.” Carin drew a sip of coffee.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jake took the coffee mug from her hand, set it on the kitchen table, and then drew her close. He pressed his lips to the crown of her hair, inhaled the sweet scent of sandalwood before dipping lower, to her cheek, and then finally her mouth. He tasted, savored, then drew back. “I would have gone with you.”
“I needed to do it alone. I’m putting an end to Phillip’s assault, Jake.” She clung to him, her heart thumping against his chest. “I’m tired of feeling afraid, of holding onto the hurt. I just don’t want to hurt anymore.”
“I’m glad.” He sighed as his insides struggled to make sense of it all. “Because I care about you, Carin. I’m beginning to…fall in love with you. But even more than that, Corey cares about you, too. God has used you to ignite a change in him greater than any I imagined in my prayers. You’ve given him—and me—hope again.”
16
Carin thought she might not be able to find it, but after only one wrong turn and a bit of backtracking she located the gravel road that led to the gigantic oak—Jake’s wisdom tree.
She felt a bit like an intruder as she took a blanket from her car and strode toward the tree, but she needed a quiet place to think—to sort everything out—and this was the first place that came to mind.
She spread the blanket beneath the tree and settled in, leaning her back against the sturdy trunk to gaze over the valley below. Clouds gathered like lamb’s wool and the breeze nipped, hinting that autumn was inching toward winter. A hawk circled overhead, reminding her of Corey’s comment.
I think Jake’s part hawk.
Carin sighed. From here, everything seemed so peaceful and serene. Why couldn’t life really be that way? The scent of decaying leaves, earthy and musty, filled her nose. The ground was damp, and moss grew all around the base of the trunk, like a soft layer of tiny pillows. Above her, a crimson cardinal flitted about the oak’s web of branches, adding a splash of color. Carin wondered if it was the same bird she and Jake had seen the last time she was here.
She reached into the tote she’d brought, found the Bible Jake had given her and flipped it open to Psalms. The book had so many great messages, and she needed to hear them now. Maybe, somewhere in the words, she’d find an answer…and a path.
She’d reported the history of Phillip’s actions to the police and secured a restraining order against him, but that wasn’t the end of things, she knew. She still had Cameron’s journal—though her dad didn’t know it existed. She knew she had to tell him about it—should have done so immediately—and now the omission weighed heavily, even though her reasons for withholding the truth seemed valid at the time.
Things were so mixed up, and a lack of sleep made it even harder to focus. Almost a week had passed since the break in, and though the police report was filed, she still jumped at the slightest night creak. Scooter, thank goodness, was healing nicely, but the vet said he’d probably always walk with a limp. Carin grew misty-eyed at the way he mewled as she filled his food dish, and how he tried to wind figure-eight’s around her ankles, so happy to see her when she came home from work. The realization of how close she’d come to losing him made her tremble.