Читать книгу The Cinderella Plan - Margaret Daley - Страница 10

Anne came to stand beside Caleb. “Dylan? Isn’t that the boy the Givens family took in?”

Caleb nodded, thinking back to his conversation with the child yesterday afternoon—or the lack thereof. Dylan had been unusually quiet when Caleb had seen him at the center, staring at the TV set. He suspected the eleven-year-old hadn’t even known what show had been on. He’d tried to get Dylan to talk to him, but the boy had clamped his mouth shut, crossed his arms and glared at a spot on the floor in front of him.

Caleb dug into his pocket and retrieved his car keys. “I need to find him.” He started for the door.

“Do you want me to help?” Anne asked, taking a step forward.

He pivoted, a frown creasing his forehead. “No.”

The force behind that one word stiffened her spine.

“Sorry. That didn’t come out right.” Caleb kneaded the back of his neck. “I need you to stay here and get the kids started on the flyers. I hope I can find Dylan and be back soon.”

“What if he shows up here? Do you have a cell phone I can call you on?”

With a quick nod Caleb walked back to the table and scribbled his number down on a pad. “Call if you find out anything that might help.”

As Caleb left the room, Jeremy stood near the door, looking lost. An uncomfortable silence descended. Anne shifted from one foot to the other, not sure what to do. She knew from the girls who volunteered at the adoption agency that Jeremy was very popular at school, already a star athlete on the football team even though he was only a sophomore. When Gina talked about him, she got all starry-eyed, and Anne thought back to her days in high school and the few crushes she’d developed on unattainable boys. It hadn’t taken long for them to be crushed to the point she didn’t dream about the impossible—until Caleb had come along.

Anne coughed and swallowed several times to coat her dry throat. “I’m sure that Caleb will find Dylan.”

Jeremy finally looked at her as though he hadn’t realized she’d even been in the room, which was usually how Anne liked it. But his expression only heightened all the years that she had felt invisible, unimportant.

The teenager lifted his shoulders. “Yeah, I guess so. I should’ve known something was up. The last few days he didn’t dog my every step around here like he usually does.”

“Oh” was all Anne could think to say. She’d never had very good success talking with the opposite sex and even though she was almost twice Jeremy’s age, she wasn’t doing a good job at the moment.

Luckily Gina burst into the room, followed by Nikki, Tiffany and Ruth Fraser, the minister’s daughter, all of them talking at the same time. Gina took one look at Jeremy and slowed her pace, her words dying in her throat as she quickly peered away from the young man.

When Gina saw Anne, the fifteen-year-old said, “I’m glad you could make it.” Then, as though she realized something was wrong, she cocked her head and asked, “What happened?”

“Dylan ran away,” Jeremy answered before Anne could even open her mouth.

Gina glanced at Jeremy, her usual bravado subdued. “He did? When?”

“Last night, I guess.”

The girls behind Gina began to whisper among themselves. Anne stepped forward. “If you all know anything, please tell me. Caleb is out looking for Dylan right now. Do you know where he would go when he’s upset?”

Tiffany and Nikki shook their heads. Ruth stared at a spot on the far wall with a blank expression, none of her usual exuberance evident.

Anne walked to her. “Do you know something, Ruth?”

The girl’s shoulders drooped, her bright red hair falling forward, almost concealing her face.

“Please tell me.”

Ruth looked Anne in the eye. “Dylan wasn’t happy with his foster family. He’s been talking about leaving, but I didn’t think he would do it.”

“Do you know where he would go?”

Ruth bit her lower lip, shaking her head slowly. “He went to school and here. Those are the only places he went to.”

An idea popped into Anne’s mind. They hadn’t searched the center. “Is this all the committee?”

“No, there are a few more. Billy is always late and Tyler is always with him,” Gina answered.

“Why don’t you get everyone started, Gina. I’ll be right back.”

Anne quickly left the committee working on the flyers and began searching each room, hoping her hunch paid off. When she entered the TV room, she spotted Dylan curled up on the old chocolate brown couch, hugging a plaid pillow. His black hair was tousled, his clothes twisting about him as though he had wrestled all night. She scanned the area, wondering how he’d gotten into the center. An opened window answered her question, and a breeze blew the white curtains, bringing the scent of the outdoors inside along with the early morning chill.

Anne walked to the window and closed it, then locked it. There wasn’t a lot of crime in Chestnut Grove, but leaving a window unlocked probably wasn’t a wise decision. She would say something to Caleb when he returned.

Dylan stirred on the couch, rolling onto his back. One arm flopped over the edge, dangling almost to the wooden floor. Even in sleep his face tensed into a frown, deep lines marring his forehead.

Anne gently shook Dylan awake. The boy’s blue eyes flew open. He scrambled to a sitting position.

“You’ve got some people worried about you.” Anne sat down on the worn coffee table in front of the couch.

Dylan stuck out his lower lip and clutched the pillow even tighter to his chest, his brows drawn together.

“Are you okay?”

His pout strengthened into a scowl. “Yeah.”

“I need to call Caleb and let him know you’re here. He’s out looking for you.”

“He is?”

Anne nodded, wishing she could wrap her arms around the boy and comfort him. His eyes reflected his doubt and pain. At a young age she sensed Dylan had seen the rough side of life and was having a hard time coping with it.

She stood. “Everyone’s in the arts-and-crafts room working on the flyers. Why don’t you join them? They’ll be glad to know you’re okay.”

For a long moment Dylan remained on the couch, staring straight ahead, grasping the pillow against him, as though it were his shield against the world, making a mockery of his declaration that he was all right. When Anne started forward, he tossed the pillow aside, unfolded himself and rose in one quick motion. He fled out the door.

Anne hurried after him, afraid that he was leaving. When he disappeared into the arts-and-crafts room, she came to a halt in the hallway and listened for a moment to the others greeting Dylan. Taking a quivering breath, Anne used the phone near the front entrance to call Caleb.

Hearing Caleb’s deep baritone voice made her momentarily forget why she wanted to talk to him. Silence ruled for a few seconds as she pictured him in her mind—over six feet tall, a large, muscular chest and narrow waist as though he used the exercise equipment at the center regularly, straight black hair that brushed his collar and light blue eyes that sparkled with humor.

“Anne? Did you find him?”

“How did you know it was me?” she asked, surprised and embarrassed at the same time.

“Caller ID. Did you find Dylan?”

“Yes. He’s at the youth center. I think he’s been here all night, in the TV room.”

“I’ll be right there. Don’t let him leave.”

“Do you want me to call the Givens’ and the police?”

“No, I’ll take care of it. Thanks, Anne. I didn’t think to look around the center before leaving. You saved us all a lot of time.”

The warmth in his words colored her cheeks, making her realize it didn’t take much to please her when it came to Caleb. She was a pushover where that man was concerned. Thankfully he didn’t know the power he had over her. She would hate to see pity in his eyes.

When Anne reentered the arts-and-crafts room, everyone was busy making flyers under Gina’s directions. The girl motioned for her to come closer. She and Gina had always been on friendly terms while the teenager volunteered at Tiny Blessings, but Anne was still surprised by the invitation to help, especially when it seemed Gina had everything under control. She sat beside the young girl who slid a piece of white paper toward her.

Gina showed Anne another slip of paper. “This is what we want on each of the flyers. Other than that, you can get as creative as you want to draw people’s eyes to the flyer.”

“Poster” was a more accurate word for what she was going to make, Anne thought as she looked at the large blank paper before her. Creative? She didn’t have a creative bone in her body, even though she loved to paint in her free time, just for herself. When she painted, she let her emotions fill the blank canvas. Knowing no one would see her work made it easy to do whatever she felt at the moment. A poster to be put up all around town was different.

Anne sighed heavily and plunged into the work before her. There was nothing wrong with plain and simple, she decided as she began to print the necessary information on the poster. She wasn’t so engrossed in her work that she didn’t know the second that Caleb entered the room. The hairs on the nape of her neck tingled and a shiver went down her spine. He came immediately over to where she was. Her hand shook as she wrote the last letter and thankfully put the marker down before her reaction became obvious to anyone.

“May I have a word with you in private?” Caleb whispered into her ear.

His breath fanned her neck, heightening the chills she already had from his entrance. She nodded, afraid to say anything for fear her voice would betray her.

He stepped back while she scooted her chair away from the long table and rose. She followed him out into the hall.

“I didn’t want to say anything to Dylan until I talked to you first. Did he tell you why he ran away?”

“No. I didn’t want to frighten him by asking him too many questions. A window in the TV room was open. I think he used it to climb into the building.”

Caleb frowned. “They’re usually locked. Dylan was the last one to leave the room yesterday. I wonder if he unlocked it. If he did, that means he was planning to run away.”

“But why here?”

“That’s a good question, and one I mean to ask Dylan. Will you continue to help the others while I have a word with him?”

“Sure. Are the Givens’ coming to pick him up?”

“No, I told them I would bring him home later after I talk with him.”

“I—” Anne started to say something, then clamped her mouth shut.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s none of my business.”

“If it’s about Dylan, it is. You found him. What did you want to tell me.”

“I’ve known the Givens family for most of my life. They take in foster children as a way to make a living. They feed, clothe and take care of their basic needs, but they’re not what I would call real parents. Right now they have several children and I wonder if Dylan is getting lost in the crowd there. How long has Dylan been with them?”

“Not long, a little over a month, I believe. I’ve been trying to counsel him, but he hasn’t opened up.”

“But he comes to the center?”

“Every day after school.”

“Then you must be reaching him on some level or he wouldn’t spend so much time here. And when he ran away, he came here.”

He took her hand. The gesture surprised Anne. His warm grasp enclosed about her fingers, underscoring all her dreams where this man was concerned. If she was anyone but who she was, she might have a chance—

“Will you come with me when I take Dylan home? Maybe another pair of eyes will help me understand how to help him, how to assess the dynamics of the family.”

He was holding her hand. There wasn’t anyway she could deny him his request even though she felt inadequate to assess the dynamics of any family, especially when she thought of her own parents who were so wrapped up in their careers they never had time for her. She choked out, “Yes,” then swallowed several times before adding, “I’ll try, but counseling is your area of expertise, not mine.”

He squeezed her hand and smiled at her. “Thank you. I knew I could count on you, Anne. And don’t sell yourself short. Tiffany, Nikki and Gina rave about you.”

Her world tilted and spun. Through a supreme effort she managed not to collapse at his feet. “They do?”

“You know those little talks you have over sodas?”

She waved her free hand, her senses still fixated on the fact he held her hand. “That’s just girl talk.”

“Well, you must be saying something right, Anne. They’re listening, and that’s most of the battle with kids.”

You are not going to blush like a school girl, she ordered herself, removing her hand from his and stepping back to give herself some breathing room. Her lungs burned from lack of proper oxygen, and she still felt dangerously close to fainting in front of him. She quickly realized, however, that she needed more space than a few measly feet. His presence dominated the hallway.

“I thought you two were gonna help us with the flyers,” Gina said from the doorway of the arts-and-crafts room, a twinkle glittering in her eyes.

Anne bit down on her lower lip and hurried forward, past the girl into the room. If the heat from her face was any indication, she was sure her cheeks were five different shades of red. She wished she didn’t blush at the least little thing. She slipped into the chair she’d occupied and picked up a red marker, using it to outline the black lettering she’d done earlier. The words stood out against the white poster board.

“That’s great, Anne. I like it. Your lettering is beautiful. Don’t you think so, Caleb?” Gina grinned at her as she sat down next to her and began decorating her own flyer.

Anne kept her focus trained on her paper, but she heard Caleb’s words as he took up the chair across from her. “Maybe we should have Anne do all the lettering. It sure beats my printing.”

“Yeah, that’s not a bad idea. What do you think, guys?”

Before Anne realized it she had all the poster boards stacked in front of her to print the information on. She was perfectly happy to do it, because beyond the outlining of the words, she had been clueless with what she’d wanted to do next to her flyer. This way she could do what she did best and let the others be creative.

Pleased at how the morning had turned out, she glanced up to find Caleb staring at her with an intense expression on his face. She should look away, but for the life of her, she couldn’t make herself avert her gaze. She liked looking at Caleb, not just because he was handsome, which he definitely was, but because he was so kind and caring. For a blissful moment the others were forgotten, the rest of the world fading from her awareness as their gazes connected across the table and she felt his pull, strong, compelling—and dangerous to her quiet, uneventful life.

Caleb pulled up to the curb outside the Givens’ large two story white house with Dylan sitting between him and Anne. The frown on the boy’s face grew deeper the nearer they’d come to his foster home, but Dylan remained staunchly quiet even though Anne had tried to engage him in conversation.

Caleb was aware Dylan, who had lived in Richmond, had been recently taken away from his father because of abandonment. Was there more to the story than the child’s father leaving Dylan while the man was on a drinking binge? Glancing at the boy’s angry expression brought back memories Caleb wished would stay buried. His hands about the steering wheel tightened as he fought against the onslaught of emotions that he usually kept reined in. Helplessness. Anger for his childhood friend. Despair.

Please, Lord, I need Your help with Dylan. How do I reach him? I’ve tried for the past month. He’s angry and keeping things bottled up. Show me the way.

Rex Givens stood on the porch waiting for them as they walked up to the house. One small child played off to the side with some trucks while a toddler, dressed in a diaper and a long-sleeved blue pullover shirt, pressed his face against the screen door.

Caleb extended his hand toward Rex. “It’s good to see you. As you can see, Dylan’s okay.”

Rex snorted, fastening his full attention on the boy. “We were worried sick about you. What did you think running away would prove?”

Dylan’s frown evolved into a scowl, deep grooves at the sides of his mouth. Silent, he stared at Rex, his chin hiked up a notch.

The man gestured toward the six-year-old on the porch. “Take Brent inside and tell Cora you’re home.”

Dylan stomped up the stairs, but when he spoke to Brent, none of the boy’s anger showed in his tone of voice as he helped the younger boy gather up his trucks. They disappeared inside the house, Dylan taking hold of the toddler’s hand as they ambled down the hallway.

Anne moved closer to Caleb, filling the void Dylan’s absence created. A strong urge to reach out and grasp her hand for support inundated Caleb as he’d waited for the children to leave. His palms tingled as though an electrical current passed through him.

“May we have a word, Rex?” Caleb finished mounting the remaining two steps, not intending to be put off by the man.

Rex backed up, then waved his arms toward a grouping of white wicker furniture at one end of the porch. “Fine. Dinner will be soon and I’ll need to wash up. It’s quite a chore getting five children all to sit down at the table and eat at the same time.”

“This won’t take long. I’m concerned about Dylan, as I’m sure you are. Thankfully, Anne found him before he decided to leave the center.” Caleb’s gaze slid to Anne, and her presence next to him soothed some of the tension festering in him. Her sweet, caring attitude reminded him of what was good in life.

Rex sat in the lone wicker chair, leaving the small love seat for Caleb and Anne. As he lowered himself next to her, again the desire to touch her for support made him falter, and his mind went blank for a few seconds. Silence reigned while he grappled with his feelings, ones he hadn’t had in a long while.

Rex cleared his throat. “The only thing I can think that set Dylan off last night was he didn’t get to see a TV show he had wanted to. With five children in the house, he has his chores that have to be done and he wasn’t through with the dishes when the show came on.”

“I understand.” Caleb forced himself to keep his hands from clenching at his sides. Chores were an important part of a family, but, like Anne, he wasn’t so sure about the Givens’ motives for taking in foster children. He’d been around other foster parents, especially Reverend Fraser and his wife, who loved their charges and their home reflected that love. When he’d been inside the Givens’ home, he didn’t feel that kind of love for the children. They were a business to Rex and Cora Givens. “I’d like to counsel Dylan on a formal basis. He needs more than he’s getting right now coming to the center and just hanging out.”

Rex straightened his large frame in the small chair, its creaking sound permeating the porch. “You can say that again. Dylan’s more than Cora and me can handle. He resents any work we want him to do around the house. His attitude has been affecting the others in the short time he’s been here.” He crossed his arms. “Frankly, we don’t know what to do about the boy anymore. We’re thinking of calling the state to place him somewhere else.”

Caleb’s hand curled into a fist. “Let me work with him first. Give me a chance.”

“He’s been going to the youth center for the past month and nothing about his attitude has changed.”

“It takes time, Mr. Givens,” Anne said, shifting next to Caleb, her hand brushing up next to his fist, as though she sensed his tension and was trying to reassure him.

Her soft voice tempered Caleb, and he uncurled his hand. Lord, what do I do? Dylan needs me.

“I can’t let the boy disrupt my household and set the wrong example. I have four other children to think about.”

Caleb didn’t want Dylan to be moved from foster home to foster home if there was a better solution. “Give me until the end of this month before you make a decision. Please.” He gave up fighting his feelings and took Anne’s hand. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her surprise reflected in her expression, but he didn’t release his hold nor did she pull her hand away.

Rex rose. “Fine. But if things don’t get better soon, I’ll be talking to Dylan’s case manager about another foster home.”

Caleb stood at the same time as Anne, their clasped hands dropping to their sides. For a second he had a strong urge to grab hold of her again. Stunned by the need, he stepped away. “Don’t say anything to Dylan about your plans.”

“You’ve got four weeks, Reverend. Things have got to get better or Dylan needs to go back to the state.”

Anne stiffened and started to say something but stopped herself. Instead, she stalked down the steps and walked toward his Suburban. Caleb watched her until she stopped at the curb and waited for him. He, too, fought the anger roiling in his stomach. Rex Givens wanted only easy children to raise. Life wasn’t that simple. Caleb wondered how much of the man’s attitude Dylan was aware of.

“What’s her problem?” Rex asked, tossing his head in the direction of Anne.

Caleb bit back what he really wanted to say to the man about children being precious resources, not commodities to trade in when something didn’t go just right. He needed a chance to counsel Dylan and that meant going through Rex Givens. “I’ll start working with Dylan after school on Monday if that’s okay with you,” he said, rather than answering Rex.

“Fine.” The large man shuffled toward the screen door. “Personally I think it’s a waste of your time. But then it’s your time, not mine.”

Caleb hurried from the porch before he said something he shouldn’t. Anne leaned against his car, her ankles crossed, her arms folded over her chest, nothing casual about her stance. When she lifted her gaze to his, all the anger he felt was deep in her eyes. He reached around her and opened the door. She slipped inside.

When he slid in behind the wheel, the swirling tension in the small confines of his Suburban escalated to a minitornado. He twisted around to look at her and try to defuse the moment.

“I can’t believe that man! Did you hear him? Those children don’t mean a thing to him. I know foster parents aren’t always easy to find, but he and Cora shouldn’t be ones at all. I—” Her mouth closed about the words she was going to say, the line of her jaw hard.

Anne’s face in her self-righteous anger was a beautiful sight to behold. She was like a female bear protecting her cubs, intending to throw her body in the way of danger. The zeal in Anne appealed to him. Why had he never seen it before? Because she was a master at keeping herself in the background, of blending in so no one noticed her. But he noticed her now—the flushed cheeks, the blue sparkle in her eyes, the full pouty lips.

“I know. I wish I had an—” Caleb stopped, an idea forming in his mind.

“What?”

“I could apply to be Dylan’s foster parent.”

The fury siphoning from her, Anne smiled. “That would be perfect! Then he wouldn’t have to leave Chestnut Grove if there wasn’t another family to take him in. He’s been making friends here. I would hate to take that away from him. And the best part is, you can work with him and maybe help him.”

Caleb started the engine. “It might work.”

“It will work. I have a good feeling about it.”

He slanted a look toward Anne. “It’s dinnertime. Want to go grab something to eat at the Starlight Diner?”

“I—I—” Flustered, Anne snapped her mouth closed, color tingeing her cheeks a pretty rosy hue.

“What? No? Yes?”

She nodded.

“Good. I’ve just realized I’m starved. It’s been a long day looking for a runaway, making flyers, dealing with Rex Givens. I hope you’re hungry, because I’m planning on having dessert in celebration.”

“Celebration?”

“Yeah. Hopefully I’ve found a way to help Dylan.” Caleb’s spirits lifted even more when he saw the smile grow on Anne’s face. He grinned in return, feeling like a teenage boy discovering the appeal of girls.

“What if the Givens decide to keep Dylan?”

Pulling away from their house, Caleb said, “I’ve got the feeling they won’t mind me applying for the job. They’ll probably welcome it. From what Rex said, they would much rather have an easier child to parent.”

“And if Dylan leaves their house, they’ll have room for another one?”

“Yep.”

Anne thought of her own parents and their lack of involvement in raising her. They had been wrapped up in their teaching at the college and their research projects. Although she still lived with them, even now she rarely saw her parents. She sometimes wondered if the only reason they had wanted her to live with them—in fact, they’d insisted—was so she could watch the house when they were gone, which was a lot lately with her father on the lecture circuit.

“Parenting shouldn’t be a business,” Anne said, then instantly regretted revealing her thoughts. She bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep from expounding on the subject.

Caleb stopped at a red light, throwing her a glance. “I agree. Being a parent is the most important job there is, and it should never be taken lightly or for granted.”

“Are your parents still alive?”

“No. They were in their forties when they had me. They tried for years and had actually given up when I came along. They told everyone I was God’s little surprise for them.” Pressing his foot on the accelerator, he drove through the intersection.

Anne heard the love in his voice. “Then you were an only child?”

“Yes. Even though my parents were older, I kept bugging them for a brother. It never happened.” He parked in front of the diner and switched off the engine, angling toward her. “I didn’t like being an only child. When I have a family, I want a whole house full of children. How about you?”

“I was an only child, too. I didn’t much like it, either.” She purposely avoided answering him about having children of her own. She also wanted a whole house full of them, but she didn’t think that would happen. Her marriage prospects were slim. They shared a dream but not a future.

He started to say something, seemed to think about it and decided not to. Instead, he turned away and got out of the car. Hurrying around the front of the car, he opened her door for her before she had a chance to gather her purse from the floor and do it herself. For a second she almost felt as if she was on a real date, but then reality hit when she glimpsed herself and Caleb in the plate glass window along the front of the diner. They were such an unlikely pair. The best she could hope for with Caleb Williams was friendship.

Inside he grabbed a booth with bright blue vinyl seats near the front and slid in, peering at the poster of James Dean on the wall above him. She gave James a quick smile. An old Elvis song played on the jukebox at the back of the diner, its catchy tune causing her to tap her foot to the beat. So many odors vied for dominance. Anne drew in a deep breath and relished the scent of beef sizzling above all the other aromas.

“Hmm.” He flipped open the menu. “It always smells so good in here. I wish I was a better cook than I am.”

“You don’t cook?”

He shook his head. “What I do when I’m desperate isn’t what you would really call cooking. I have a lot of frozen dinners and prepared foods. How about you? Do you like to cook?”

“I can cook, but I can’t say that I like to. It’s not that much fun to cook for just yourself.”

“Don’t you live with your parents?”

“Yes, but they aren’t home that much to eat what I make, so I resort to frozen dinners, too.” Anne opened the menu and skimmed it, already knowing what she was going to have.

When the waitress, Miranda Jones, came to the table a few minutes later, Caleb gave her their orders, then took a long sip of his ice water. “I’m so relieved that you’ll be helping with the decorations this week. I hope it won’t be too much extra work for you.”

Unwrapping her utensils, Anne smoothed her napkin in her lap. “No. The only night I can’t make it is Wednesday night. I volunteer to hold babies at the hospital that evening.”

“Hold babies?”

“Actually, I usually do it twice a week, but I think I can get someone to do my Friday shift since that’s when we’ll be putting up all the decorations for the carnival on Saturday.” She leaned forward, loving the topic of conversation. “I sit in a rocking chair and hold, talk to and even feed the babies, who need someone to do it for them. There are some babies—many of them preemies—who are in the hospital for weeks and need to be held and loved, either because their parents can’t always be there to do it or because they don’t have parents who want to. I think it’s the best job in the world.” Especially since I don’t know if I will ever have my own children to hold, she silently added.

“I didn’t realize there was such a job. You’re right. It would be great. You would probably enjoy working in our nursery on Sunday.”

Anne stared down at her plate. She knew so little about God and Jesus, only what Grandma Rose had told her as a little girl. When her gaze returned to his, she said, “I can’t remember the last time I’ve been to a church for a service other than a funeral or a wedding.”