Читать книгу The Groom's Little Girls - Katie Meyer - Страница 8
ОглавлениеWhy were the good-looking ones always jerks?
That was the thought circling through lawyer Dani Post’s mind as Tyler Jackson made his way to the witness box. Yes, he was gorgeous, with ice-blue eyes, short, cropped blond hair and an athletic build that had the middle-aged courtroom reporter nearly drooling as she typed. But he obviously lacked a shred of human decency, as far as Dani could tell, and she’d had more than enough experience with men like that. It was because of him that the little boy at her side was trembling with fear, his sweaty hand clenched around her own.
Kevin McCarthy, a precocious nine-year-old, had been caught stealing a baseball bat from the toy store that Tyler owned. Obviously he shouldn’t have done it, but there were extenuating circumstances, not the least of which was that Kevin was a foster kid who’d been through more trauma in his short life than most adults could even imagine. The boy had just wanted to be able to join in the pick-up baseball games at the park, and knowing his foster parents couldn’t afford a new bat he’d grabbed one out of desperation, hoping that it would help him fit in with his peers. Dani didn’t condone his actions, but surely the coldhearted toy-store owner could have handled it without going to the cops! He could have just made the boy return the bat or spoken to his foster parents. Maybe had him do some chores around the shop. But instead he’d pressed charges against a kid barely big enough to see over the witness box.
And now Kevin was her very first guardian ad litem case. Guardians ad litem, GALs for short, were adult volunteers who were assigned to children involved in the family court system, to advocate for their rights and help make what could be a frightening process easier for the child. Originally they had only been assigned in abuse cases, but Palmetto County, Florida, had recently expanded the program to all foster children, to help them navigate the family court system. Dani’s job was to help him understand what was happening, and to speak out on the child’s behalf as his representative. And now, with Kevin facing criminal charges, she was also acting as his guide through the juvenile justice system.
A legal background like Dani’s, although not necessary, was helpful, and the program director had assured Dani that even though she’d only been practicing a few years she was more than qualified. But nothing in the training program had prepared her for how emotional it would be, and how hard. The very thing that had drawn her to the program, her understanding of what it felt like to be vulnerable and powerless, was what made doing the job so heartbreaking. When she looked at Kevin she didn’t see a case or a volunteer project. She saw a frightened little boy who had made a mistake he was very sorry for. He was just a kid who needed a break—someone to stand by him and believe in him. Sitting next to her, legs dangling several inches above the ground, he seemed so small and vulnerable. And she knew too well what it was like to feel vulnerable.
Unfortunately, the outcome was out of her hands. Her role in this case was as an advisor and sounding board. She could explain things to Kevin, but she had no say in what happened. If this had been a custody hearing, she would have presented her opinion to the judge, but in a criminal case she was on the sidelines, there for moral support as much as anything. So she bit her tongue, held Kevin’s hand and glared daggers at Tyler Jackson.
A few minutes later, he finished speaking and, at the judge’s direction, left the witness box and headed for the back of the courtroom. Dani found her eyes drawn to him as he strode down the center of the room, passing within inches of the table where she sat. As if feeling the intensity of her gaze, he glanced down at her briefly. Then he was past her, and a minute later she heard the heavy doors of the courtroom thud close.
“Good riddance,” she mumbled under her breath. Something about him made her nervous, almost restless. She’d like to blame it on her anger at him for pressing charges, but she’d noticed it the moment she saw him in the courtroom, well before she’d realized who he was. No, it was something intrinsic to him, and not the situation, that made her skin tingle in awareness. The same hyperawareness she felt before a big electrical storm, telling her lightning was about to strike.
It was probably just that he seemed too handsome, too sure of himself, too confident, which were all characteristics that had led her astray in the past. Or maybe she’d met him before, and it was some weird recognition kicking in, although she hadn’t been in the toy store he ran that she could remember. She tended to shop online, late at night when insomnia struck.
But whatever the reason, he was gone now and she could turn all her attention back to Kevin and the trial. The judge, a matronly looking woman in her midfifties or so, finished writing something on the papers in front of her, then cleared her throat before turning toward the defense table. Kevin was instructed to stand, and he did, his freckles stark against his suddenly pale skin.
Dani felt her own pulse racing, and forced herself to smile, trying to send positive thoughts even as she waited for the judge’s decision. Luckily, the Honorable Sheila Graves lived up to her reputation as both efficient and compassionate, delivering her verdict without further delay—probation, and participation in the county mentoring program for at-risk youth.
Dani let out a shaky breath and turned to Kevin, who looked a bit shell-shocked at the decision. “Do you understand what she said?”
He started to nod, then shook his head in confusion. “I don’t have to go to jail?”
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “No, big guy, you don’t have to go to jail. You got probation—that just means you have to be on your best behavior, and not break any more laws. You can do that, no problem, right?”
He nodded, more confidently this time. “And I have to have a mentor.”
She smiled. “That’s right. Do you know what a mentor is?”
“Not really.”
“It’s just a person, someone older and maybe a bit wiser, who will be your friend. Someone to hang out with you, give you advice, someone you can talk to about things that are bugging you.”
Some of the stiffness went out of his stance. “That sounds okay, I guess. But can I still hang out with you, too?”
Dani felt her heart squeeze. He tried to pretend he was tough, but deep down he was still just a scared little boy. Putting an arm over his shoulders, she guided him toward the back doors, where his foster parents were waiting. “Of course. You didn’t think you could get rid of me that easily, did you?”
“So you’ll come with me to meet the mentor person?”
She hesitated. It really wasn’t her place, and the mentor might want one-on-one time to build a rapport.
“Please?”
Tears welled up in big brown eyes, and she knew she couldn’t say no. Whoever the mentor was, surely they’d understand. And if not, they’d just have to deal with it. “Of course I’ll go with you. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
* * *
Dani spent the remainder of the afternoon holed up in her office, trying to concentrate on the probate paperwork she’d promised to finish by tomorrow. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t keep her mind on her work. Estate planning, although important, didn’t compare to the challenge of trial law, and on days like today she missed her old job. More than that, she missed who she’d been, before she’d lost faith in the system and herself.
Restless, she found her eyes drawn to the window yet again. It was a gorgeous spring day, and as usual there was a crowd of kids at the ice-cream parlor across the street, eagerly lapping up their after-school treats while their moms congregated in the shade of an awning. Usually she found the view soothing, a reminder of all the goodness in life, but today it was like a punch in the gut. Kevin should be doing stuff like that—eating ice cream and laughing with friends. Not spending the day in court. And as much as his foster parents, the Cunninghams, wanted to do right by him, she couldn’t picture the elderly couple taking him for ice cream after school or pitching baseballs to him in the park. Maybe his new mentor would help with that kind of thing. But even that was a temporary fix to a much larger problem. One she had no idea how to solve.
And staring at the same paragraph of legalese for the fifteenth time wasn’t going to change anything. She shoved the papers into her briefcase and decided to finish up at home. Maybe a brisk walk would clear her head and help her focus. A run would be even better, but her work clothes weren’t exactly conducive to that, so a walk would have to do. Snagging her purse, she ducked into the room next door, where her father was seated at an oversized desk covered in yellow legal pads. “I’m going to head out, and work on this at home.”
Her father’s eyebrows arched. She never left early. “Everything okay?”
“Sure, just a bit of spring fever.”
Worry lines creased his forehead. They’d always had a close bond, but in the year since she’d returned home it had become a bit strained. Not because of their working relationships—the letterhead might carry the name of Phillip Post, but he treated Dani as if she were a full partner. No, it was more likely because he sensed there were things she hadn’t told him about her time in Jacksonville and her reasons for coming home. Finally, he sighed and nodded. “If you need anything, call. I’m happy to help.”
Impulsively, she rounded the desk and gave him a hug. “I know you are. I’m lucky to have you.”
He smiled at the sudden show of affection. “Yes, you are. And don’t you forget it!” His eyes twinkled. “Now go, and let an old man concentrate on his work.”
She smiled, feeling a bit lighter, and made her way out of the small but well-appointed office, waving to her mom, who worked part-time as the receptionist and was on the phone discussing appointment times with someone. She really was lucky to have such a close family. Some of her friends thought it was a bit odd that she didn’t mind spending her days with not one but both of her parents, but they got along well and so far it hadn’t been a problem. She liked them, and although her sister, Mollie, had butted heads with them on a regular basis, Dani had been fortunate enough to always have a good relationship with them. Working in the guardian ad litem program, seeing how many people didn’t get to grow up with a loving family, had led her to a new appreciation of her own circumstances.
Kevin might look up to her, but she found she was equally inspired by him and his ability to hold on to hope despite his circumstances. He’d lost his mother a year ago to an opioid overdose, after she’d been prescribed the medication for a back injury. He’d never known his father, and when he ended up in the foster-care system it was discovered the man that had sired him was in prison, serving out a twenty-year sentence. Once in the system Kevin had bounced around from one temporary placement to another before ending up with the Cunninghams. Senior citizens, they had been fostering kids for nearly a decade, ever since their son had moved to California for a job in the tech industry. They’d missed having family, and foster care had given them an outlet for the love they were eager to share.
In many ways, it was the perfect placement for a grieving boy like Kevin, but as wonderful as the Cunninghams were, they were getting on in age, and Dani suspected that keeping up with an active little boy was taking its toll. What he really needed was his parents, but they were gone and the chances of a boy his age being adopted were slim from what the caseworker had told her. The whole thing just sucked. But dwelling on it wasn’t doing Kevin or her mood any good. She needed to snap out of her funk if she was going to do right by her clients and get any work done today at all.
On a whim, she crossed the street and turned left instead of right. The big trail that wound through the park would take her only a little out of her way, and the extra sunshine and fresh air would be worth the lost time. Turning east off of Lighthouse Avenue, Paradise Isle’s version of Main Street, she walked the two blocks to Pelican Park and felt her spirits lift. Dozens of children were playing a chaotic game of dodgeball on the big green field near the entrance. Peals of laughter alternated with shrieks of indignation as the kids scrambled in the thick grass. On the other side of the trail squirrels played their own games, fighting over acorns and chasing each other through the tree boughs.
Continuing down the paved path, she passed the basketball court, empty now but sure to be bustling once the high school let out, and then the baseball fields. A group of kids, maybe late-elementary or early-middle-school-aged, were playing a pick-up game on the closest diamond. She squinted, shading her eyes from the sun. Were these the boys Kevin had been trying to impress? Had they teased him for not being able to afford his own bat, or had he just imagined their judgment? He hadn’t wanted to give details and she hadn’t pushed. In the end, it didn’t really matter.
Pushing on, the playground finally came into view. It was situated near the far entrance of the park and had been rebuilt recently. Gone was the scorching hot metal slide she remembered from her youth along with the rest of the old equipment—it had all been replaced with more colorful, and no doubt safer, modern play equipment. Domes of red and blue shaded the ladders and slides, offering protection from the tropical sun. Benches full of watchful parents circled the perimeter, giving wearied moms and dads a chance to socialize a bit while keeping an eye on rambunctious little ones. That part of the scene, at least, was similar to what she remembered. Her mom had often sat on those same benches after walking to the park with Dani and Mollie. On the weekends her father had come, too, often taking the whole family for ice cream afterward.
Smiling at the memory, she was almost to the park gates when the sound of crying stopped her. Glancing back, she saw a little girl with blond pigtails, no more than five years old, sobbing hysterically at the foot of the swing set. Standing over her was a man, one with an oddly familiar build, his back toward her. Without thought, her feet started moving in their direction, the little girl’s cries spurring her on. Rounding a bench, she was about to offer assistance when she realized why the man looked familiar. It was the toy-store owner from the trial! What was he doing here—harassing random preschoolers?
“Haven’t you upset enough children today?” He looked up, and again she was hit by that feeling of unease that she’d felt in the courtroom, like her skin was suddenly a size too tight. Ignoring the feeling, and him, she looked down to the girl, who had stopped crying at Dani’s interruption. “Are you okay, honey? Is he bothering you?”
“I’m okay. Daddy was just kissing my boo-boo.” She pointed to a slightly skinned knee. “My sister, Amy, is the one that was bothering me.” She glared back toward the swings, where an equally adorable and nearly identical girl glared back at her. “She pushed my swing too hard and I felled off.”
Dani did a double take, looking from one angelic face to the other, then slowly turned back to the man in the middle of it all. “Your daddy?”
Tyler Jackson, the coldhearted man who had pressed charges against a nine-year-old boy and then testified against him in court, was a father?
* * *
Tyler helped Adelaide, the younger and more dramatic of his twins, up off the ground. “It’s barely a scratch, you’ll be fine. Now go play—we’ve got to head back soon. And Amy,” he said, shifting his attention to the other girl, who was trying and failing to look innocent of all wrongdoing, “be nice to your sister. I’ll be watching.”
“Okaaay!” she huffed, clearly offended at his implication that she needed watching. Full of sass, that one was. Between her newfound bossiness and her sister’s histrionics, he was starting to feel like he’d never get the hang of this single-parenting thing. Just as soon as he thought he had them figured out, they grew and changed and confused him all over again. Where were the sweet little girls that had cooed at him from their cribs? Of course, those days hadn’t been easy, either; raising infant twins never was. But at least he’d had help then. Jennifer, his late wife, had done the bulk of the caregiving, leaving him to enjoy the fun parts of fatherhood.
But Jennifer had been gone for two years now, taken by ovarian cancer faster than he could have imagined. And he was going to have to fill her shoes along with his own, no matter how hard it was. Often the weight of the responsibility felt like it might crush him, but the girls were still the two best things in his life, and he was a smart enough man to know that he was luckier than most.
“You have kids?”
He turned back to face the woman that had approached Adelaide when she’d been crying. She looked familiar, and it hit him. She had been in the courtroom today, sitting with the boy he’d caught shoplifting. Maybe she was a relative? He extended a hand, falling back on the manners his grandmother had ingrained in him. “I do. Name’s Tyler Jackson, and those little munchkins are Amy and Adelaide. I’m sorry if they upset you. They normally get along pretty well but you know how siblings can be.”
She ignored his hand and stared up at him. She was probably a good six inches shorter than him, and less than half his weight, but if she noticed the size difference she didn’t let on. Instead, she stabbed a finger into his chest and lit into him like an angry mother hen. “I know exactly who you are, Mr. Jackson. You’re the man that tried to get a confused little boy, an orphan no less, put behind bars over a measly baseball bat. That’s who you are!”
He kept his tone even, not rising to the bait. “I suppose that’s one way to look at it. And you are?”
“Dani Post, Kevin’s guardian ad litem.” She looked fierce, he’d give her that, with her dark hair blowing in the breeze like a mane and her dark eyes snapping in anger. But at least she’d stopped poking him.
“Well, Ms. Post, I’m very sorry about the boy’s family situation, but that doesn’t excuse stealing.”
She glared. “Of course not. But he needs help, not legal trouble.”
He crossed his arms and settled onto his heels. “And I happen to think the legal system is the best way to make sure he gets that help. He’s going into the mentor program, right?”
She nodded, but didn’t look any less upset. “You couldn’t have known that would be the final result, though.”
“Actually, the prosecutor’s office assured me that was the most likely scenario. And I’ve had some experience with juvenile courts—they don’t go throwing young kids in jail if they don’t have to.”
“Thank goodness for that.” She tossed a strand of hair out of her eyes. “But he’s had a hard time, and deserves a second chance.”
“And he’ll get it.”
“No thanks to you.”
Tyler checked to be sure his daughters were still safely playing on the swings, then turned back to the angry woman in front of him. Dressed smartly in black slacks and a crimson blouse, she looked like she should be in a boardroom, not at a playground. But if she was a lawyer, that made sense. As did her confrontational communication style. But he wasn’t a witness on the stand, and she didn’t intimidate him. Impressed, and even a bit attracted, but not intimidated. “Actually, I intend to be a very large part of it. I’m going to be his mentor.”
“You’re what?” He could almost taste the anger and frustration pouring off of her as she digested that bit of news. “Haven’t you done enough damage? What more do you want?”
“To keep him from making any more mistakes. Listen, I get that you are worried about him, and that’s admirable. And I’m sure it helps. But a boy that age needs someone who can teach him how to be a man.”
“And what makes you the right person for the job?”
“Nothing really, except I’m willing to do it. I turned him in because I thought it was the best way to teach him a lesson, to keep him from getting into more trouble down the road. I made a few mistakes of my own at that age, and someone stepped in and helped me out. I figure now it’s my turn.”
She blinked at him, a wary respect replacing the look of disgust she’d worn only a few minutes ago. “Well, I hope that’s the truth. But you should know, he’s asked me to be there when he meets with you, and I intend to do just that. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.” With that she spun on her high-heeled shoe and strode off.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said to himself, watching her retreat. No, he had no intention of keeping her from joining them; in fact he found he was almost looking forward to another meeting with the fiery lawyer. Ever since his wife’s death, his friends and family had treated him with kid gloves—always careful how they spoke, what they said. No one wanted to upset the grieving widower. He appreciated the sentiment, but a man didn’t want to be handled like a child.
Dani, on the other hand, had gotten in his face, telling him what she thought without holding back. That kind of forthrightness was refreshing and, he was shocked to realize, a bit of a turn-on. He hadn’t had a physical reaction to a woman in longer than he could remember. He’d had chances; plenty had been interested in stepping into his late wife’s place. But none of them had sparked the kind of attraction he’d felt just now.
Of course, it wasn’t going to lead to anything: he was already overwhelmed with running a business and caring for his daughters, not to mention the new responsibility of being a mentor to a troubled boy. The very last thing he needed was one more complication in his life—romantic or otherwise. But still, there was no harm in looking. No harm at all.
