Instant Father. Donna Gartshore
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face. Then he cleared his throat again and said in a forthright way, “I want to talk to you about how Tyson is doing and I want you to be honest with me.”
“Yes, of course, Mr. Belvedere,” Charlotte said. “Please come in and have a seat.”
She couldn’t help noting that the chair she kept by her desk for this purpose was dwarfed by his size. Yet what should have been a comical picture only served to emphasize his physique.
Stop it, Charlotte, she scolded herself.
She knew that Paul’s question wasn’t a casual one. Even if she hadn’t been Tyson’s teacher, it would have been impossible in a town the size of Green Valley to avoid knowledge of the tragedy.
Tyson and his parents, Ross and Erica Francis, had only been living in town for a couple of years, yet they’d readily fit in. One fateful night, about seven months ago, Ross and Erica left Tyson with a babysitter and drove into Regina for dinner and a movie. They never made it to the movie. As they were crossing the street after dinner, they were struck down by a drunk driver and killed instantly.
Tyson had woken up to the news that he would never see his parents again.
Charlotte swallowed hard and reminded herself that Paul had come to get her opinion on his nephew, not to watch her dissolve in a puddle of sympathy, even if she did understand all too well what it was like to lose a sister. But that was something she never talked about.
He shifted in the small chair, and she realized that he was waiting for her to answer his question. There was something edgy about him, not dangerous, but as if he didn’t have time to waste.
“I’m glad that you came to talk to me,” Charlotte said. “I’ve actually been thinking about whether I should contact you, but I wanted to give it some time. In some ways Tyson is doing as well as can be expected. All children experience an adjustment period between kindergarten and grade one because of the full days and higher expectations, and, of course with Tyson...”
A shadow passed through Paul’s eyes, and his jaw tightened, so she rapidly stepped around the emotional land mine.
“We’ll just say that Tyson has some additional challenges.”
Paul gave a grim nod. “So he’s having problems? I was afraid of that.”
Charlotte thought about Tyson and pictured his unruly mop of reddish hair, the dash of freckles across his nose and his smile, which, though infrequent, was gap-toothed and endearing.
“Tyson is a sweet boy,” she said with sincerity. “He’s kindhearted and smart and, given time, I know he’ll be fine.”
She silently prayed that her confident prediction would come true.
“But...” Paul prompted.
“But in the meantime I do think he could use some extra assistance and attention.”
“What are you suggesting?” Paul asked.
“I’m saying that we have to work as a team. We both care about Tyson and are committed to helping him through this. We can’t bring back his parents.” Charlotte swallowed briefly then braced herself. She couldn’t give in to emotion now. “But if we work together, I know we can make a difference for him.”
Paul appeared to be considering her words, then he asked, “What about the other kids? How is Tyson getting along with them?”
“Social interactions are an adjustment for all of the children,” she said cautiously. “It’s really not that long since their only social interactions were with their parents.”
She stopped herself. But it was Paul who pushed past the hard moment in the conversation.
“Is Tyson not getting along with the other children?” he asked.
“He’s a friendly and kind little boy,” Charlotte reiterated. “But again, there are struggles, for obvious reasons. He has one or two friends that he seems to be comfortable with, but he still likes to be alone much of the time.”
“And you think we should be concerned?” Paul asked sharply.
Charlotte was momentarily flustered by his tone, then regained her composure. It was only natural that Paul would be uptight. Not only was he new to town, but she’d heard that he was also a confirmed bachelor. Parenting was new to him. Plus he’d also be dealing with his own grief over his sister.
“I think it’s all part of the struggle he’s going through,” Charlotte said. “I do want to say again that I think Tyson is doing quite well, but it’s going to take both of us, as well as the support of the community, to keep him on the path to healing.”
Again Paul scrutinized her in a way that made Charlotte feel like he could see right through her. Then his face relaxed and he said. “Okay, thank you for answering all of my questions, Ms. Connelly.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” Charlotte said. “I’ll keep in close touch with you about Tyson’s progress and trust you’ll do the same for me. Also, Mr. Belvedere, I know that you’ve had a loss, too. Green Valley is a supportive community—don’t be afraid to reach out.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.” But Paul’s face had gone stony, discouraging further discussion on the matter. He glanced at his watch and unfolded himself out of the chair. Charlotte stood up to walk out of the room with him, noticing that, although she was five feet seven inches, she felt tiny beside him. She tried not to feel like a little girl as she scrambled to match his long stride.
Although Paul had indicated that he was satisfied with her answers, Charlotte felt like there was something he wasn’t saying, and she wanted to offer more reassurance, but she didn’t know how.
Dear Lord, help me to help Tyson and his uncle. Show me what I can do.
Almost immediately, the community activities that took place at Green Valley Community Church on Wednesday nights came to mind.
“Listen, Paul,” she said, tilting her face up to catch his eye.
He stopped walking and looked down at her, waiting.
“You may already know this, but there are a variety of activities that take place at the Green Valley church on Wednesday nights. It would be a great way for Tyson to have more bonding time with his classmates and a chance for you to get to know more people, too. I’m usually with the literacy volunteer group and—”
“Thank you,” Paul said. “Sorry to interrupt, but I do need to get going. I promised Mildred and Tyson that I wouldn’t be too late. Maybe we’ll drop by the church—we’ll see.”
But Charlotte didn’t have confidence that they would. She had never seen them there on a Sunday morning.
As they reached the exit, they almost ran into Rena Acoose, who was heading back into the school with a fretful look in her beautiful dark eyes.
“Rena, what’s the matter?” Charlotte asked. Her First Nations friend was the grade-four teacher at Parkside Elementary School. “I thought you were long gone.”
“That was the plan,” Rena said rather breathlessly. “I have the car today because I’m supposed to be getting a few groceries after work, but it won’t start. I left my cell phone in my desk and I need to get hold of Seth.”
Her husband owned and managed the local coffee and bakeshop, Seth’s Café, a popular hangout on Main Street.
“It’s just been one thing after another,” Rena said, shaking her head. “I know we’ll have to get a mechanic to look at it, but we just found out that we have to get a new furnace installed before winter, too.”
“I could take a look,” Paul said, and Charlotte remembered that he’d been hired as a mechanic by Mildred’s brother, Harold. Harold said Paul did high-quality work.
“I have to pick up Ty right now, but I could