A Family For Daniel. Anna DeStefano
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losing his mother.
Josh’s well-thought-out plans to help Daniel weren’t making a dent. The boy’s behavior was defying every logical step Josh took, just as his ex-wife’s had, when she’d left to build the life she’d wanted away from him and Sweetbrook.
“It’s going to get better, you know,” he finally said, following Dr. Steve Rhodes’s lead, even though the words sounded ridiculously shallow. Maybe if Josh kept saying them, he could will the platitude into reality.
Daniel’s total lack of reaction announced that the kid wasn’t born yesterday.
Josh checked his copy of Mrs. Cole’s schedule. “Your class is at recess. You think you and Becky can retire to neutral corners until the end of the day?”
A mumble and a shrug were all he got in response.
“Give it your best shot.” Josh stood and walked around the desk, his stomach tightening at the realization of just how close he was to losing Daniel to whatever dark place he’d gone to after his mother’s death. “We’ll deal with the rest later.”
He reached to smooth Daniel’s bangs out of his eyes. The boy flinched, and Josh dropped his hand, fresh out of next steps.
Daniel inched to his feet, putting more space between them.
Josh let him go, like a principal should. He stared at his dress shoes, forcing his hands to stay in his pockets, when everything in him wanted to pull the lonely child close and hug it all better.
As if that had worked every other time he’d tried.
It was some kind of sick cosmic joke that he was Daniel’s best shot at a normal life now. The kid needed love so badly, and neither one of them knew how to make sure he got it.
“Hey, buddy,” he rushed to say as the ten-year-old reached the door. He hated the strained silence between them, almost as much as he hated the thought of Daniel leaving his office in worse emotional shape than when he’d come in. “Hot dogs for dinner again tonight?”
He held his breath, praying Dr. Rhodes hadn’t been blowing sunshine up his ass when he’d said to play the intense times loose and easy.
Daniel looked back, his eyes too old, too lost, and so much like his mother’s the last time Josh had seen her.
The last time he’d seen his baby sister.
“Sure.” The ten-year-old yanked open the door, his bored expression an improvement over the wariness that had been there just a moment ago. “Why not?”
Josh watched his nephew amble through the outer office and disappear down the hall.
What the hell do I do now?
He’d asked himself the same question once before, when his wife had filed for divorce two years ago.
A decade into marriage, Josh had blissfully assumed he had the world under control. Granted, they’d had trouble getting pregnant. But with his family’s money, they could have hired the best specialists in the world. They could have kept trying. But one day out of the blue, Lisa’s bags were packed and she announced she’d been accepted to law school in New York. That she wanted more than what they had together. Namely, a life of her own that didn’t include him, his agenda for getting her pregnant and his dream of raising a family in the small town he’d grown up in.
One minute he was standing in their living room listening to Lisa recite everything he’d never understood she needed, the next she was gone. And for the first time in his life, he’d had no idea what to do next.
Just like now.
Ruthlessly philanthropic, Josh gave away by the handful the White family fortune that had never bought him an ounce of peace, supporting organizations in the area that needed the money far more than he did. He was organized, compassionate and hardworking, even progressive by Sweetbrook standards. He could educate the one-hundred-and-fifty kids in his school like nobody’s business. But none of that had won him points as a husband. His wife’s unhappiness and longing for a different life had gone unnoticed and unchecked until it was too late. He’d made a mess out of loving her.
And now he was making a mess out of caring for his sister’s troubled child.
“I KNOW BECKY’S NOT HAPPY there, Mama.” Amy Loar rested her head in her hands, her elbows atop the Kramer Industries files that would take her the rest of the night to organize for tomorrow’s meeting. It was only Wednesday, but she’d already billed forty hours to her client’s account that week. She had at least another forty to go. “I’d give anything to have her here with me.”
She fingered the heart-shaped pendant dangling from the chain around her neck. Last year’s Christmas present from Becky, back before things with Richard had exploded one time too many. Amy never took the necklace off now. It reminded her why she was doing all this.
“I hate to say it, because I know it’s impossible for you to get away,” her mother replied pensively. Amy could almost picture Gwen. Her close-cropped graying hair, originally the same dark red as Amy’s, was always finger-combed into an unruly mess by this time of night. “But Becky needs you, honey.”
Gwen Loar never meddled. She never passed judgment nor laid blame. So the touch of disapproval in her voice told Amy how dicey things were getting in Sweetbrook. Becky was staying with her grandmother temporarily, while Amy moved them from their pricey Buckhead condo into a two-bedroom apartment closer to her job in midtown. While she fought to get their lives back on track.
Gwen’s tiny house, her life in Sweetbrook, had once been a slice of heaven for Amy. But growing up poor in the rural South had left a lot to be desired. For as long as she could remember, she’d longed to get out, to do better, to snatch for herself a speck of the security everyone around her took for granted.
So she’d earned her scholarships and attended college in Atlanta, only to meet wealthy, sophisticated, ten-years-her-senior Richard Reese during her junior year. At the time, he’d seemed the answer to all her dreams—a charming, successful man offering her marriage into a world she’d never dreamed of. But all dreams come with a price.
Now she was hoping the small-town life she’d turned her back on would work its magic on her daughter. If only Becky would give it a chance.
Just hold on for a little while longer, honey. I’ll make everything up to you.
Amy checked the clock at the corner of her computer monitor and winced. It was almost nine. She’d meant to call home hours ago.
She forced herself to stop wilting into her desk chair, and smoothed a manicured hand across her wrinkled expensive silk blouse. Her career uniform. One more tool she needed to get her where she wanted to be.
“Put Becky on the phone,” she said to her mother. “Let her vent about what happened at school today. Blaming me for everything for a while will do her some good.”
“I’ve tried to get her to talk.” Gwen’s sigh sounded like it came from her toes. “I tried all afternoon. But she headed straight to her bedroom after school and locked her door until dinner. She’s finally asleep. I don’t think it’s a good idea to wake her and start things all over again. Maybe you could be here when she gets up in the morning? You could talk with her before the bus comes—”
“I can’t come home right now, Mama.”
“It’s only a four-hour drive.”
“I have the Kramer Industries sign-off meeting at three tomorrow afternoon. We’re finalizing the proposal with the senior management.”
She was a project leader for Atlanta’s high-profile Enterprise Consulting Group, a position she’d had to fight for after her divorce. The partners had finally agreed to give her this shot, and the Kramer account was going to land her the manager slot she’d declined three years running at Richard’s urging. The promotion came with an immediate bonus and a hefty increase in her annual salary. And tomorrow’s meeting was the last