Angel of Redemption (20 page)

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Authors: J. A. Little

BOOK: Angel of Redemption
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I thought you wanted
me
to do
this,

Emily says as we sit down.


I do. I don

t plan on staying the whole time.

That

s about all the explanation she

s getting from me. She knows it, too,
so she focuses her attention on Logan.


I hear you want to get a job,

she starts. He looks momentarily surprised, but then nods.


Yeah. I do.


Why?

Logan
looks stumped for a minute.
“‘
Cause, uh, Kayla said I have to grow
up?


That

s it?

“‘
Cause I wanna make some cash?


For what?


Is she for real?

Logan asks, looking at me. I put my hands up, deferring to
my sister-in-law.


I

m just curious.

Emily smiles at him.

Why
waste your time and mine if it

s not something you really want to do?


I do want to,

Logan protests.

I
want to get a car and a phone. Kayla said she could set me up with a bank
account and teach me what to do.

Emily
studies him for a few minutes. Logan starts fidgeting. I have no idea why, but
he

s different from the kid who walked
through our door less than two weeks ago. The problem is that I don

t know him well enough to tell what

s changed. I

ll have to talk to Kayla, see if I

m right.

She
has to talk to me when it comes to the kids, right? This is exactly why I can

t get involved with her.


Okay. What do you want to do?

Emily finally says, pulling a resource binder from the
bookshelf behind her.


I don

t want to work at McDonald

s,

he says quickly.


What

s wrong with McDonald

s?

Emily frowns. I laugh quietly. That
was Emily

s
first job when she turned sixteen. Logan fixes his gaze on her.


How am I supposed to buy a car making
eight bucks an hour?

Logan

s not likely to get much higher than
minimum wage for his first job. But if he ends up doing something he likes, he

ll be more likely to stick with it.


All right. What are you good at?


I

m good with my hands. Or so I

ve been told.

He snickers. I cover my mouth to hide my laugh. So he

s not
that
different.


Dean, if you can

t encourage him to take this
seriously, then you can go,

Emily says, unamused. I stay for
another ten minutes while Emily and Logan go over some options, but I

m not going to sit around while she
makes phone calls. I have too much shit to do.

Curtis

s social worker stops by about an hour
later. I think I

ve
gotten spoiled in such a short period of time; I

ve almost forgotten that not every
social worker is like Kayla. Curtis sits uncomfortably on the couch while his
worker asks stiff questions and writes down what he says in a notebook. There

s no real interaction between the two
and no bond. It

s
kind of sad. She

s
here and gone in ten minutes flat.

At
dinner, Logan

s
excited. Emily was able to talk to a friend of a friend who owns an imported
auto garage not too far away. They

re willing to take Logan on in a sort of training role. He

ll work twenty hours a week and make a
pretty decent
hourly rate—more than he’d be
making at McDonald’s—
with
the possibility of a really good career.

Aiden

s on overnight duty tonight. I drive
back to my apartment, pick up a six-pack of beer on the way, and drink it while
watching the Maple Leafs play the Red Wings. I pass out on my couch before
midnight.

I

m on edge again all Tuesday morning.
My slight hangover and sore back along with the fact that Kayla

s supposed to be coming by at two o

clock make my need for a fucking huge
coffee critical. I run a few errands before heading to the house, but my mind
is so fucked up that I end up forgetting to pick up the one thing I really need

caffeine.

When
I get to the house, I walk in on Emily sitting in my brother

s lap, sucking on his neck. I can

t get upset, though. As irritating as
it is to see all that lovey-dovey bullshit, I did fuck up his chance of getting
laid last weekend. I ignore them and disappear into my office.

I
have no idea how long I actually sit there, but my growling stomach tells me
that it has to be close to lunch.


Dean, you

ve got a call on line one,

Emily calls over the intercom.

I
pick up the phone.

This is Dean Wyatt.


Hi, this is Sara Dravin with DHS. I

m calling on behalf of Kayla Brooks.

My
empty stomach churns violently.

Is everything all right?


Everything

s fine. She was called in for an
emergency hearing and won

t be able to make her appointment this afternoon.

I
try hard to mask my disappointment. It doesn

t
work.

Will she call to reschedule?

I ask rudely.

Sara
is quiet on the line for a second before answering.

I

m sure she will, Mr. Wyatt.


Uh, good. Will you let Kayla know that
if I

m
not in the office, she can call me on my cell?

I ask.

She should have the number.


I will. Have a great day.


Yeah, thanks,

I respond automatically before hanging up. I slam my fist
down on my desk, scattering shit everywhere. I know she has to go if it

s an emergency hearing, but I can

t help but feel like she

s avoiding me.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the week passes without a phone call. Matty
tells me that Kayla visited them at school, which confirms that I was right.
She is avoiding me.

Aiden,
Emily, and I conduct the first of the interviews together. We all have to work
with and trust this person. We each have our own way of reading the applicants,
and it

s
nice to be able to confer about them. Out of the six initial interviews, two
make it into final consideration. We

ve got nine more to go. Our goal is to narrow it down to
five really strong candidates, but I have my doubts. Even the two good ones
weren

t all that impressive.

On
Friday afternoon, before the kids come home from school, Emily catches me
playing Call of Duty in the den. She flops herself down unceremoniously onto
the couch next to me. She doesn

t talk at first, just watches me. I
can tell she wants to, though. I pause my game and turn to face her.


What?

Her
lips are pursed together, and she

s breathing through her nose.


Seriously, Emily, whatever it is, just
spit it out or let me get back to my game.


I invited Kayla over to the house for
Ashley

s
birthday party tomorrow,

she tells me. I open my mouth to
respond, but she stops me.

I get that, for whatever reason, you
have some sort of problem with her, but I like her. Please,
please
, just
show up and wish your niece a happy birthday. She adores you, and if you don

t come because you don

t want to be around Kayla, you will
break her heart.

I
let my head fall backward onto the couch.

Can
I talk now?


I don

t know. What are you going to say?

I
laugh.

I

ll be there, Em. I wouldn

t miss Ash

s birthday for anything.


Good,

she breathes out.

You
won

t
cause any problems with Kayla?

I shake my head slowly, rolling my
neck back and forth against the cushion.


Nope. I will be on my best behavior. I
promise.


Thank you.

 

* * *

 

Saturday morning, the house is like a graveyard. Brayden,
Logan, and Jax all went out last night, and Logan and Brayden are now on
restriction for the rest of the weekend for coming in after curfew. Jax is on
restriction all week for being tanked on top of being late.

After
I work out, I make myself an omelet, then drink my coffee and eat breakfast by
myself. Sometimes I enjoy the solitude, but this morning I don

t. My mind is racing, and I can

t make it stop. I think about Kayla,
the interviews, Kayla, my niece

s party, Kayla, the boys, Kayla. Fortunately, Tracey comes
to my rescue at eight o

clock. I fill her in on what happened the night before and
stand up.


I

m
gonna wake Jax up before I go and make sure he feels the full effect of the monster
hangover I

m
sure he

ll
have.

Tracey
laughs, but I know there

s worry behind it. I put my arm around her and squeeze her
shoulder.


I have to let them make their own
mistakes, T. They

re
kids, not criminals,

I say although it

s not entirely true. More than half of
the current residents have some sort of juvenile record, but I know that if I
try to come down on them too hard, it will end in disaster. These kids need
stability and rules, but they also need to know they won

t get beaten or kicked out if they
break them. Jax pushes all sorts of boundaries all the time. He

s been here three years and I still
don

t
know if he

s
convinced that nothing he does will make me hit him. Aiden and I have had
several runaways over the last few years, kids who just couldn

t process the rules or believe that
someone would care enough to enforce them. My dad says it

s just part of this life. You can

t force these kids to conform, and sometimes you just have
to let go.

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