Yuletide Proposal. Lois Richer
Читать онлайн книгу.
pine scent of his aftershave. Some things never changed.
“Have a seat.” He sat down behind his large, austere desk only after she was seated. That was Zac, manners all the way. His mother’s influence. If only her mother had been like that—caring instead of trying to force her daughter to give up her dream for a business she detested.
You can do anything, Brianna. You just have to believe in yourself.
Zac’s words echoed from those halcyon days. But there wasn’t much else to remind her of the shy, geeky boy who’d tutored her through junior and senior year so she could win a scholarship to college. Even his bottle-bottom glasses were gone, revealing the hard straight lines of his face. This mature Zac was confident and completely at ease.
“I don’t want to say this, Brianna,” he began, tenting his fingers on his desktop.
Her fingers tightened on the arm of her chair.
“Your son, er, Cory.” He paused.
“Zac, I know who my son is.” She steeled herself. “Get on with it, please.” Her heart cried at the thought of Cory messing up this last opportunity.
“He was on drugs in school today.”
“What?” Brianna gaped at him in disbelief. This was the very last thing she’d expected.
“Yes. In fact, Cory was so wound up, he hit another student in the hallway. Or tried to. Fortunately he missed and passed out on the floor.” Zac’s voice dropped forcing her to lean forward to hear. “I was really hoping drugs would not be one of the issues here.”
What had she brought her son home to?
“Cory doesn’t do drugs.”
“He took something today.” A touch of irritation dimmed Zac’s dark brown eyes.
“Is he all right?” She breathed a little easier at his nod and began summoning the courage to go to battle for her son—again—when Zac continued.
“He’s a little groggy, but the school nurse assures me the drug has almost completely worn off.”
“Cory doesn’t use drugs. I mean it, Zac.” Brianna held up a hand when he would have spoken. “You’ve seen his record. He’s made a lot of mistakes, but drugs are not one of them.”
“Yes, Cory said that, too.” Zac leaned back, face inscrutable.
“He did?” She narrowed her gaze. “When?”
“When I talked to him a little while ago.”
“Without me present?” she asked sharply.
“I was acting as guardian for the child, Brianna,” Zac defended. “Not as an enforcer, or policeman—to give him a penalty. I need to get to the bottom of this, and Cory provided some perspective.” He paused. “What I’m going to tell you now is off the record.”
“Okay.” Brianna nodded, confused.
“I believe Cory was tricked into taking something. He said someone gave him a drink. I discussed his symptoms with a doctor friend who works with emergency-room overdoses in Santa Fe. He suggested Cory may have been given a powerful psychotic.” The name of the drug made her gasp.
“That’s a prescribed substance!”
He nodded. “The police tell me they haven’t seen it in town before.”
In spite of the word police, something about Zac’s attitude reassured her, though Brianna wasn’t sure why. “What happens now?”
Zac was silent for several moments. His steady brown gaze never left her face.
“Are you suspending Cory?” she demanded.
“Not at the moment.”
“Then—” She arched her eyebrow, awaiting an explanation.
“I’ve been through this before, Brianna.”
“Through what?” She’d expected anger from Zac. Loathing. Disgust. Something different than this—understanding. “You mean you’ve seen drugs in school before?”
“Yes.” Zac nodded. His jaw visibly tensed. The words emerged in short clipped sentences. “Several years ago I taught a student who was also given drugs without his knowledge.”
“Oh.” She waited.
“Jeffrey had a lot of difficulties at home and at school. The high he got from that one time made him feel he’d escaped his problems, I guess.” Zac shook his head, his voice tight with emotion. “It wasn’t long before he became addicted.”
“I’m sorry,” she said to break the silence. Zac clearly struggled to tell her his story.
“Jeffrey called me the night before he died.” Zac licked his lips. Beads of moisture popped out on his forehead. “I think he was looking for a reason to live, but I couldn’t talk him out of committing suicide.” His ragged voice showed the pain of that failure lingered.
“How sad.” She ached for the anguish reflected in Zac’s dark gaze. He’d always been determined to help students achieve. This tragedy would have decimated him.
“Jeffrey was the brightest kid in the school.” Zac’s mouth tightened. “He’d already been accepted at Yale. He had his life before him, but because someone slipped him that drug, his potential was wasted.”
Brianna didn’t know what to say so she remained quiet, silently sharing the grief that filled his eyes and dimmed their sparkle. Suddenly the earlier awkwardness she’d felt didn’t matter.
“It’s okay.” She offered the soothing response she often used at the clinic.
“It’s not.” Zac’s shoulders straightened. His chin lifted and thrust forward. “It’s not okay at all. That’s why I have to nip this in the bud now.”
“Nip this—I don’t know what you mean.” Dread held her prisoner. Something was going on behind that dark gaze. Would her son be expelled? Would Zac punish her son because of what she’d done?
“I refuse to allow drugs to ruin another young life. Not Cory’s. Not anyone’s.” Zac blinked. His eyes pinned hers. “I’m going to need your help, Brianna.”
“My help?” She gaped at him. “I’ll certainly talk to Cory, get the whole story and help him understand how easily drugs can cause damage we never expect. But what else can I do?”
“More. A lot more, I hope.” Zac rose and began pacing behind his desk, his long legs eating up the distance in two strides. Nervous energy. He’d always been like that. “Let me explain. I came here—actually I specifically chose Hope because school test scores are rock-bottom, the lowest in the state.”
She listened attentively as he haltingly told her of the purpose he’d set for himself since Jeffrey had died. Zac spoke of making a difference, of helping kids find their own potential so that drugs weren’t even a consideration. His words reminded Brianna of his youthful eagerness to teach when they’d both been students at college, when their goals had been the same—to help kids uncover their potential.
“You must have seen the test scores in the files of the students you’ve counseled at the clinic,” he said.
“Yes.” Brianna nodded. “Pathetic.”
“Last year was my first year in this job and it was an eye-opener. I found a major lack of initiative, total boredom and a host of other issues. But I never found drugs.”
Brianna grew engrossed in his story of trying to create change until she glanced at her watch and realized she didn’t have much time to see Cory before her next appointment.
“I’m sorry it’s been so difficult, Zac,” she interrupted, rising. “Though I don’t know the first thing about combating drugs in schools. Education