Читать книгу Daddy Wanted - Renee Andrews - Страница 12

Chapter Four

Savvy sat on the top step of Willow’s wooden deck and reread the letter from the elementary school principal. She’d left the sporting-goods store at two to make certain to be here when the kids got home. It’d taken less than fifteen minutes, so she had time to get the mail.

And read this letter that stated the elementary school believed Rose and Daisy should be retained, too.

She was glad for the extra time, because she didn’t want the kids around to hear her make this call. Pulling her cell from her pocket, she dialed the number on the letterhead. The bus wouldn’t be here for another half hour. Surely this conversation wouldn’t take that long.

“Claremont Elementary, how can I help you?”

After asking to be transferred to the head administrator, Savvy waited two hard heartbeats and then heard, “This is Principal Randolph.”

She cleared her throat. “Hi, this is Savannah Bowers. I currently have guardianship of Willow—I mean Wendy—Jackson’s children, and I received a letter from you today about Rose and Daisy.”

Silence echoed from the other end, and then the woman said curtly, “And?”

Savvy hadn’t expected the abrupt change of tone. Obviously, this lady didn’t care for her, but Savvy didn’t remember a soul in Claremont with the last name of Randolph.

She gathered her courage. “And,” she continued, “the letter says that you’re recommending Rose and Daisy be retained for a year, held back in first grade while their friends move on to second in the fall.”

“That’s correct,” she said, her tone still terse. “The girls were already falling behind on their first-grade skills, and we believe, especially in light of their mother’s recent passing, that it would be in their best interest to have the opportunity to repeat first grade.”

“The opportunity,” Savvy said.

“That’s correct.”

Savvy could feel her skin heating, readying for confrontation. She closed her eyes and counted to five. Ten was too much to ask for, given her frustration. “The letter says that I can come in and review their scores, and I can request for the girls to be reevaluated if I believe those scores may not be an accurate representation of their first-grade skills.” Savvy read the text verbatim from the woman’s letter.

“That’s correct. However, in my opinion—”

“I’d like to make an appointment to do that,” Savvy said, hearing a vehicle coming up the driveway. Mandy had told her the bus dropped the kids off at the end of the driveway and then they walked the rest of the way. Plus, it still wasn’t time for the bus. She frowned as Brodie’s truck appeared through the trees bordering the driveway.

Great...just great. Now I have to deal with him on my own until the kids get home.

“You’d like to make an appointment?” the lady on the other end asked, reminding Savvy she was still on the phone.

“Yes, an appointment,” Savvy said hastily. “I do have the right to do that, don’t I? I am their legal guardian now.”

The lady actually huffed on the other end. “Yes,” she said. “You can make an appointment. When would you like to come?”

“As soon as possible. Tomorrow, if that works for you.”

“Well, I am busy.” She drew out the last word.

“Then I’ll wait until the end of the day, when school is over, and we can meet then,” Savvy answered.

Another huff filled the line, followed by a low grumble. What did this woman have against Savvy? They’d never even met. Or maybe she had something against Willow?

“You can come at nine in the morning,” she said. “But I don’t anticipate any change to our original observations. I’ve reviewed the progress reports from their teacher, and given—”

“I’ll see you at nine,” Savvy said, cutting her off and ending the call without saying goodbye. In other words, she hung up on the lady, which suited her just fine.

“Someone on your bad side?” Brodie asked, sauntering toward the deck. He wore a Stockville College baseball jersey, baseball pants and a matching cap.

“You mean besides you?” She hated that the look of him in that baseball uniform made her heart thud in her chest.

He had the nerve to grin, and then he held up his palms. “I understand that you’re mad at me, but I think, for Dylan’s sake, it’d be good for us to get along in front of him. If he can tell that you don’t like me, it isn’t going to make it easy for him to like me, either.”

“I don’t like you,” Savvy said.

“I get it. But if we can try to coexist so that I have a chance to help Willow’s son, then we’ll accomplish what she wanted.” He sighed. “I’ve been thinking about this all day, Savvy, and I want this chance to help Dylan. I need it.”

She looked down at the paper still in her hand. Somehow she had to make sure the school didn’t hold these kids back. And Brodie was probably her best shot at doing that for Dylan. “I told you that you could tutor him, if it’s what he wants.”

“It will be.” He’d moved closer to the steps so that he merely had to lean forward to peer over her shoulder and see the letter. “What’s that?”

Savvy didn’t see any reason not to tell him. “The elementary school thinks the girls should be held back, too. I’ve got to go talk to the principal tomorrow to convince her that isn’t what they need.” She looked at the letterhead, saw the woman’s name beneath the address. “This says her name is M. Randolph. Did we know any Randolphs in school?”

“Not that I recall.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“So do you think you can change this Principal Randolph’s mind?”

“I’m not sure.” Savvy bit her lip, still trying to place the name and coming up with nothing.

“Well, as a preemptive strike, do you want me to tutor the girls, too?” Brodie asked.

Savvy glanced up, saw the sincerity in his eyes and knew he meant the offer. But Willow hadn’t asked him to help the girls, and truthfully, Savvy didn’t want him around any more than necessary. “No, I’ll figure something out. You help Dylan. That’s plenty.” She glanced at her phone and saw that it was only 2:25 p.m. She’d have to spend twenty more minutes alone with Brodie before the bus arrived.

As if knowing her train of thought, he said, “I didn’t have your number to call and see what time the kids got home, and I wanted as much time with Dylan as possible before my team’s evening practice at seven. Guess I got here a little early.”

“They should be here at two forty-five.”

He moved in front of the steps, pointed to the spot next to Savvy. “Mind if I sit down while we wait?”

She did mind, but she couldn’t think of a good reason to tell him why, so she shrugged. “Go ahead.”

He filled the remainder of the wooden step, and Savvy edged over to put the hint of a distance between them. It was bad enough that she caught herself inhaling the combined scent of aftershave and soap, or whatever it was that created a spicy, masculine aroma that surrounded the man. To find herself leaning into the warmth of him sitting next to her would not be acceptable. She didn’t want to enjoy his presence, and she wouldn’t.

As long as she didn’t scoot in his direction.

The wooden step creaked in protest as he shifted his weight to turn and view the front of the trailer. Savvy wasn’t all that certain the thing would keep holding them up. The warped stairs were in as dire shape as the rest of the home. “This place is in rough shape, isn’t it?” he said, as if reading her thoughts.

“Yeah.” Yesterday had been overcast and stormy, and she hadn’t been able to truly view the state of Willow’s home. Today, however, in the clear afternoon, she observed the siding peeling away from the ends of the trailer, the holes in the awning where the rain had poured through, the rotted wood flaking away on the handrails and the misshapen stairs. And then there were the gaping holes in the skirting, big enough for a medium-size animal to slide between. She did not want to think about what might be living beneath the trailer.

“What made you decide to stay here, instead of taking the kids with you back to Florida? I’m guessing you were still living there?”

The thought had crossed her mind, several times, in fact. But she couldn’t do that to Dylan, Daisy and Rose. “I was, but I didn’t want to pull the kids away from their home, out of their school, away from friends and all of that.”

Still eyeing the pitiful trailer, he asked, “But why stay here? Why not move into your grandparents’ place by the fishing hole? They’ve got plenty of space, don’t they?”

Savvy nodded. “Yeah, and they offered, but this is where Willow raised her children. And she tried her best to make it a home.” She pointed to the row of bright yellow flowers lined up like sturdy soldiers across the front of the trailer, as though protecting everyone who lived inside. “I imagine when she planted those daffodils, she wanted to make sure the place had a happy color visible every spring.”

“Willow always liked flowers,” he said.

Savvy thought about the white-and-yellow daisy necklaces she and Willow had made on the school playground during that sixth-grade year, when Savvy had been so sad at being held back and Willow had become the friend she needed. Willow had provided the color Savvy so desperately needed in her dismal world. Then she thought of the other ways Willow had attempted to beautify this place.

“And those metal sunflowers hanging from the awning, and the flowerpots on both sides of the door. Willow tried her best to make this a nice home for the kids, and this is the only home they’ve known. I couldn’t make them move away from here, not after all they’ve been through.”

“You really do relate to them,” he said quietly.

Drawing a deep breath, Savvy felt her pent-up emotions pushing through each word, and she didn’t hold them back. “It’s hard enough losing a mom who never really was a parent. I can’t imagine how hard it is for them losing Willow. She was a good mom. And I don’t want them to feel like they’re being punished because their mama died.”

“The way you felt.”

It wasn’t a question, so Savvy didn’t answer. She simply nodded.

“That’s why you’re so determined to make sure the kids aren’t held back. You don’t want their lives turned upside down any more than necessary after losing their mom. And you know what that’s like.”

“Yeah,” she said. “I do.”

“And you want to stay here, in the only home they’ve known, because this is where they knew a sense of family,” he continued.

Again, Savvy nodded. “When she was pregnant with Rose and Daisy, she told me that her boyfriend—their dad—was going to build her dream house after they married.”

“What happened?” Brodie asked.

“They weren’t married when she had the twins, but they had planned a wedding that next summer. Then he died in a car wreck before they married. And Willow was left with the three kids to raise on her own.” Savvy took a breath, let it out. “She never loved anyone else.”

“What about Dylan’s dad?” Brodie asked.

“He was never in the picture.” Savvy didn’t want to add that Willow had turned from one guy to another after high school, when she wanted so desperately to be loved. Every time Savvy called her from Florida, she’d be dating someone new and had always been certain she’d met the one. “And I feel bad now that I didn’t realize how alone she was here. I thought I was doing a good thing, having her and the kids come down and visit me every year and spend time on the beach. But I should’ve come back to visit her some, too. Then maybe I could’ve helped.”

“You’re helping her now,” he said softly. “Taking care of her children and looking out for their best interest, too.”

Savvy smirked. “Those are the words both of the principals used. Looking out for their best interest. In their opinion, holding the kids back is looking out for their best interest.”

“If anyone knows that isn’t true, it’s you.”

“I remember that day like it was yesterday, when I learned about mom.” Savvy thought back to when she came home from school to find her grandmother crying. “But you know what was the strangest part about it all, when I learned that she’d died?”

“Tell me,” he said, in almost the exact same tone he’d used when they were in school. The one that said he was willing to listen, and that he cared.

“It was that I looked forward to them bringing her body home. So that I could finally see her.” She swallowed, remembered seeing her mother for the first time and wishing that she would open her eyes so Savvy could see if they looked like hers. “That was the first time, the only time, that I ever saw my mom. And she was in a coffin.”

Brodie slid across the step, wrapped an arm around her in much the same way he had done when they were teenagers. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“She died in April, like Willow, when the school year was nearly over. And so they held me back, because it was in my best interest.” She placed her fingers against her forehead and rubbed them back and forth to relieve the tension that formed whenever she thought about that painful year. “I can’t let Willow’s children go through that.”

“I know you won’t,” he said. “And I’ll do anything I can to keep that from happening, too.” His fingers caressed the top of her left arm, not in an intimate gesture but as a sign of a comforting friend.

Savvy did feel comforted, until the brakes from the school bus screeched and she realized the kids would soon amble up the driveway. And it suddenly dawned on her that she had succumbed to the charm of Brodie Evans once more.

She didn’t need comfort from the guy who’d treated Willow so terribly.

Clearing her throat, she shifted to remove herself from the warmth of his arm and force his hand away.

* * *

Brodie heard the bus brakes at the same time as Savvy, and he knew the exact moment when she realized she was talking to him again, opening up to him. She moved away, and the air between them transitioned from the warmth of old friends to frigid and bitter strangers.

God, help me build her trust in me again. Help me do the right thing, not only for Savvy, but for Willow and her children.

The girls emerged through the tree-lined driveway first, and their eyes visibly brightened when they viewed Savvy and Brodie waiting on the steps. Both of them increased their pace, pink-and-purple book bags bouncing against their backs as they hurried across the dirt-laden yard.

“Aunt Thavvy, Daisy had to move a thtick,” Rose said as she approached the deck.

Daisy, who’d been jogging to catch up with her sister, slowed to a crawl. “I didn’t mean to.”

Savvy scooted to the bottom step, held out an arm for Rose to curl inside and then held the other out for Daisy. But the second little girl had stopped walking.

“Daisy had to move a stick?” Savvy questioned.

Rose nodded solemnly. “Yes.”

Savvy looked from the girls to Brodie, and he could see the confusion on her face. She mouthed, Do you know what that means? and he lifted his shoulders and shook his head in a “no clue” gesture.

One corner of Savvy’s mouth dipped, and then she turned back to the girls. “And why do people have to move sticks?”

“Becauth they are bad,” Rose said.

Savvy’s eyebrows lifted at that. “Daisy, were you bad?”

“I guess so,” the little girl replied.

Savvy looked to Brodie again, and once more, he gave her nothing. He had no idea what you did with kids either, and certainly couldn’t offer any suggestions. So she returned her attention to Daisy. “How were you bad? What did you do?”

“I threw dirt in Justin’s face,” she said.

Brodie watched Savvy inhale, her head tilting as though she were deciding what to ask next. And she asked what he’d have asked.

“Why did you throw dirt in his face?”

“Because he said I couldn’t plant a flower with everybody else,” Daisy said.

Savvy had been leaning toward the girls, but she straightened and glanced at Brodie.

He took that as his turn to jump in. “Why did Justin say that?” he asked.

“Because the flowers are for mommies, and he said I don’t have one anymore.”

“Tho Daisy threw dirt at him,” Rose said. “And moved her thtick.” She looked at her sister. “Ith Daisy in trouble?”

“No,” Savvy said firmly. “No, she isn’t. Daisy, did the teacher ask why you threw dirt at Justin?”

Daisy shook her head, her eyes blinking several times to apparently hold back tears.

“Daisy, I’m coming to the school in the morning, and I’ll explain why you were upset with Justin.”

Brodie watched Dylan approach, his head looking at the ground as he trudged along, kicking a rock in his path. Apparently, Daisy wasn’t the only one who’d had a bad day.

“Justin shouldn’t have said that,” Savvy continued, paying more attention to the child in front of her than the teenager moping along the driveway, “but next time, when someone says something that upsets you, you shouldn’t throw dirt in his face. You should tell the teacher and let her handle it.”

“Then Justin would move a stick?” Daisy asked.

Savvy nodded. “I would think so.”

“Mine just moved from green to yellow,” Daisy explained. “That’s a warning. You get a warning before your stick goes to red. When it goes to red, you get time-out at school.”

“And no TV at home,” Rose added.

Savvy turned to Daisy. “Well, I’m thinking we may not even have to worry about sticks moving again, because you won’t be throwing any more dirt in Justin’s face, right?”

The little girl nodded. “Right.” She waited a beat, then asked, “Aunt Savvy?”

“Yes?”

“Can I still plant a flower for Mommy?”

Brodie tried to tamp down the surge of sadness rushing through him at her request. He was impressed that Savvy found the ability to talk without her voice breaking, because he wasn’t sure he could do the same.

“Yes, Daisy, you can still plant a flower for her,” Savvy said softly. Then she gave the girls a hug while Dylan apparently noticed Brodie on the porch and forgot about the rock in his path.

“Are we practicing baseball?” he asked, his entire disposition lifting with the question.

“That’s why I’m here,” Brodie replied.

Savvy shot him a look that told him he’d better cover why he was really here, and so he obliged.

“And I thought we might talk about your schoolwork, too.”

Dylan stopped his progression toward the porch. “My schoolwork?”

Brodie could feel more than see Savvy’s anticipation for his answer. But he’d prayed about this all day, and he knew God would help him say the right thing. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to help you practice baseball one day, and then help you with your school assignments the next.”

“But you’re a baseball coach,” Dylan said.

Brodie heard Savvy’s muffled laugh at his response. Did the kid think baseball coaches only knew anything about baseball? But instead of stating that he’d actually completed his bachelor’s degree in sports management, Brodie explained, “I am a baseball coach, but I also help teenagers with their school assignments.”

“Like a tutor or something?” Dylan asked with a scowl.

“You could call it that,” Brodie said, “but you could also say I like to mix both kinds of learning when I teach someone about baseball.”

Brodie sat on the step above Savvy now, and she turned to look up at him. He noticed that her eyes looked like melted chocolate in the afternoon sunlight.

“Two kinds of learning?” Dylan asked, and Brodie took his attention away from shades of chocolate to the boy standing in front of him.

“Physical and mental. They go together, you know. A baseball player—a good baseball player—can’t merely know how to play the game. He’s got to be able to think, to analyze the play and what should be done in any situation.”

“Like if you’ve got three balls and one strike, then you swing only at hitter’s pitches,” Dylan said.

Brodie grinned—he couldn’t help it. He’d seen yesterday in the storm that the kid had survival skills, but he also had baseball knowledge too. “Exactly.”

“I like to read sports books,” Dylan admitted. “I just don’t like to read schoolbooks so much.”

“I remember the feeling,” Brodie said. “But I can promise you, you’ll go further in life, and even in baseball, if you learn both.”

Dylan had been carrying his backpack, and he slung it on his shoulder. “I don’t have any homework or anything tonight.”

“Okay, then, why don’t we go to Hydrangea Park and practice throwing?” Brodie asked.

Both of the girls were still in the crook of Savvy’s arms, but they wiggled out and looked his way.

“Can we go to the park, too?” Rose asked.

“And play on the merry-go-round and the slide?” Daisy added. Then, realizing they were asking the wrong person, she turned to Savvy. “Can we, Aunt Savvy? Please? I promise I’ll try not to move my stick again this week. Or ever.”