Angel of Redemption (76 page)

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Authors: J. A. Little

BOOK: Angel of Redemption
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Chapter
60

Kayla

 

I spend the next several
hours in relative peace. I get a phone call from a foster parent asking me
about getting permission to take a child out of state for a vacation this
summer, a doctor’s office requesting consent for a procedure, and a lawyer
asking me to email him a copy of a case plan. I wonder if Dean is at his
therapy appointment and what exactly he’s going for. I know he needs to deal
with the accident, but he said he had some things he needed to tell me and didn’t
know how. Does that mean he’s going to talk about his fear of relationships? I
briefly consider that there may be more that he’s not telling me but push it
back. I trust him. I love him.

I’m about to start packing up for the day when my
cell rings. I glance at it and don’t recognize the number, but that’s not
entirely unusual.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Kayla Brooks?”

“Uh, yes, it is. And this is?”

“Alessandra Iverson. Headmistress of
…”

“I remember you, Mrs. Iverson. What can I do for
you?”

“Would it be possible for you to meet with me tomorrow
morning?”

“Regarding?”

“Your sister, Claire.”

Duh. Apparently, I’m not going to get a whole lot
out of her over the phone. I look at my calendar.

“I can meet you after I drop Claire off tomorrow
morning. Is that all right?”

“That will work. I appreciate it, Ms. Brooks.”

I hit the
END CALL
button and slip my phone into my purse
before leaving to go home. When I get there, Andy and Claire are both home and
eating dinner.

“We were going to wait for you, but we got
hungry,” Andy says with his mouth full. I wrinkle my nose. I hate it when he
does that. Setting my things down, I join them at the table. I ask Claire how
school went, and she shrugs.

“Fine, I guess. Headmistress Iverson called me
into her office and asked me if everything was okay. I told her I was living
with you.”

“Do you know what’s going on?”

She shakes her head. “No. She didn’t say much.”

“Huh. Okay, well, she asked me to come talk to
her tomorrow morning. Nothing happened?”

“Nope. Not that I know of.” Claire keeps eating,
and I drop it.

Dean calls as I’m getting ready for bed. I want
to ask him how his therapy session was, but I don
’t want to pry.

As usual when Dean’s not with me, I toss and turn
all night. I try to pull myself together in the morning. Andy even makes my
coffee super strong, but I’m definitely not at the top of my game when I walk
into Headmistress Iverson’s office. My eyes dart around the room, taking in the
diplomas, awards, and pictures. I shift uncomfortably in the wooden chair.

“We have a situation, Ms. Brooks,” she says,
sitting down behind her desk. “We received a phone call yesterday morning from
Richard Graeme. He informed us that Claire will not be returning next year and
that he is pulling support from our school.”

My heart sinks. I knew Richard was a bastard, but
I’d hoped he wouldn’t go this route.

“When I called Claire into my office, she
explained that you are now her guardian?”

“I share temporary guardianship with the state,”
I say flatly.

“Okay. Well, my purpose in bringing you in here is
to discuss Claire’s future. She’s one of our brightest students, and I want to
see her succeed despite what’s going on at home.”

“What are her options at this point? I can’t
afford to pay tuition,” I say, embarrassed. “I mean, if we can work out some
sort of payment plan, but
…”

“I’ll talk to the board. I can’t make any
guarantees, but we have scholarships available. Let me see what I can do. I
really like Claire, Ms. Brooks. She’s been an ideal student, and I would love
for her to be able to graduate with her class.”

“There’s another issue.” I grimace. If
Headmistress Iverson is going to advocate for Claire, she needs to know the
situation.

“And what is that?”

I take a deep breath and let it out. “She’s
pregnant.”

Her mouth drops a little before she catches
herself. “Oh. My.”

“She’s due in December.”

“Okay. Uh, well. Let me look
…” She flips
through Claire’s file and then looks back up at me. “Are you planning to have
her in classes in the fall?”

“I honestly don’t know,” I respond. “I’m new to
all this. I want her to graduate. I want her to have a chance at a future and I’m
scared that if she drops out now, she’ll never go back.”

“I’ll be honest with you, Ms. Brooks. We rarely
have pregnant students here. It’s difficult for them and most end up
withdrawing. I’m not saying Claire can’t enroll, but it’s not going to be easy
for her.”

“What are her alternatives?”

“She only needs six classes to meet graduation
requirements. If we can resolve the financial obligations with the board, she
might be able to take some classes over the summer and then the remaining by
correspondence in the fall.”

“I’ll talk to her tonight.”

“And I’ll address the board. We have one more
meeting next week before we break for the summer, so I should have an answer
for you soon.”

“I appreciate anything you can do for her. Thank
you.” I stand up and shake her hand before leaving.

The hallways are empty; all the kids are in
class. This place holds a lot of memories for me. Good ones and bad ones.
Sometimes I wonder what happened to all those kids who got numb with me every
weekend. It seems like a lifetime ago that we swapped cash for pills in the
halls. I wouldn’t change anything because it all made me who I am, but I thank
God I escaped.

 

* * *

 

When I finally arrive at
my office after visiting one of my little ones in her foster home, I sit down
just long enough to take a breath before my phone rings. I almost don’t answer
it, but then I feel guilty.

“DHS, this is Kayla Brooks.”

“Hey, Kayla, it’s Jasmine.” Claire’s social
worker’s voice is cheerful. Of course it is. She’s one of the most cheerful
people I’ve ever met.

“Hi, Jasmine. What’s up?”

“I was talking with another worker in my unit
about Claire’s case, and she mentioned a program that one of her girls is
doing. I thought it would be perfect for Claire.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a retreat for pregnant teenagers. I’ll
email you the website, but essentially a group of female psychologists, social
workers, and nurses takes a group of twenty-five pregnant girls from all over
the state to a campground up near Itasca State Park. They talk about everything
from the basics of pregnancy and childbirth to their hopes, fears, the fathers,
their family lives. Girls who have been through the program come out to talk
about what life is like for them after they’ve had their babies. From what I
hear, it’s a wonderful experience for these girls.”

“When is it?”

“It’s this weekend.”

“This weekend?” I choke.

“I’m sorry, but I just found out. I called and
they have one more spot available. I took it as a sign. This is perfect for
Claire. There are girls from every social background and it’s a non-profit, so
it’s free. Everyone is a volunteer.”

“I don’t know, Jasmine. I’ll have to ask her.”

“Please do. I signed her up, but told them I
would have a definite answer for them by tomorrow. They’ll pick the girls up
from the YMCA at five o’clock on Friday night and bring them home by five on
Monday. It’s only seventy-two hours, Kayla.”

“I’ll talk to her tonight.” One more thing to add
to my list.

“Thank you. Okay, I’ll talk to you later then.”

“Oh, hey, uh, what’s going on with Richard and my
mom?”

Jasmine pauses. “I can’t really get into it. I’m
sorry. Just know that it doesn’t look like Claire is going home any time soon.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. “Okay. Thanks. Bye.”

The rest of my day is as busy as the morning.
Dean and I talk a couple times, but only for about ten minutes. And before I
know it, I’m pulling into my driveway. At dinner, I mention the weekend.

“That sounds kinda cool,” Claire says, poking her
fork into her chicken.

“Really?”

She shrugs. “Yeah. I mean, sure. I’ll go. Might
be interesting to hear what other girls are going through. Plus, I’ve never
been camping before.”

I smile at her.
“Okay, I’ll let Jasmine
know. By the way, I spoke to Headmistress Iverson today. Your dad called her.
He’s pulling your tuition.”

“Figures,
” she groans. “So, what? I’m
going to have to go to public school next year?”

“She’s going to talk to the board about a
scholarship so you can finish, but she was thinking it might be better to take
summer classes and then correspondence in the fall.”

“That’s an option?”

“It might be. We’ll talk about it next week,
okay?”

She nods. “Okay.”

 

* * *

 

“Logan’s graduation’s next
Tuesday night. Are you coming?”

Dean and I are sitting on the couch drinking beer
after work on Wednesday. My feet are in his lap and the news is on the
television.

“Absolutely. There have been too many times over
the last several years I didn’t think the day would come. I will be there with
bells on. And pom-poms. And maybe even a big blow horn.” I smile. Dean
chuckles. “Besides, Claire wants to go.”

“Logan told me you’re going to teach her to
drive.”

“Yeah, scary, right?” I tease. “I think it’s
bullshit Richard wouldn’t let her get her license. It’ll be good for her to
have some independence. Plus, I don’t want to have to drive her around
everywhere, especially once the baby’s born and she has checkups and all that.”

“I think it’s a great idea.”

“When are Logan and Brayden moving out?” I ask
casually. I know this is a touchy subject for Dean. He and Brayden are like
brothers, and he’s nervous about both the boys getting into trouble.

“The weekend after graduation.” He sighs heavily.
“Aiden, the kids, and I are going to help. My dad knows a guy who’s renovating
his entire house and getting rid of a shitload of furniture. He was going to
give it to Goodwill, but my dad offered to take it off his hands. He said if we
moved it, we could have it for free, so we’re giving some of it to the boys and
putting the rest in storage.”

“Do you do this for all your kids, or are they
just special?” I try to hide my smirk when Dean’s head turns toward me slowly
and he narrows his eyes. “It’s one of the first things you ever said to me.”

“I remember.”

“You do?”

His mouth lifts at one corner, forming my
favorite cheeky grin. “I remember everything about the day you walked through
that door.”

“You were an asshole.”

Dean scratches at his stubble-covered jaw and
smiles. “Uh, yeah, I was.”

I rub my foot up and down his thigh. “A sexy
asshole.

Dean clears his throat. “Hi, Claire,
” he
says. I giggle and look over at my sister, who’s standing in the doorway.

“I thought you were going to see Logan.”

“I am. He’s coming to pick me up. He’s pouting
because I’m leaving this weekend.”

“Where are you going?” Dean asks.

“A retreat.”

“Oh yeah? Cool.”

She nods. “I’m going camping for the first time.
Ugh,” she grumbles when a loud horn blares from outside. “Why can’t he come to
the door like a normal human being? I’ll be home by ten o’clock.”

“Okay. Have fun.”

“If they’re already having trouble in paradise,
we’re in for a long road,” Dean says after she shuts the door behind her.

“Her mood swings have been a little intense the
last couple of days. Hope Logan’s wearing a cup.”

“So she’s not going to be here this weekend?”

I shake my head. “Nope.”

“Wanna go away with me?”

My body floods with heat. Away with Dean? As in
away from the city? “Where?”

“I know a place.”

“I promised Warren and Sara we’d go out Friday
night. It might be the last time for awhile.”

“That’s okay. We can leave Saturday morning, come
back Monday. You get Memorial Day off, right?”

“Yes.”

“So let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Don’t worry about it. I know a guy who knows a
guy.”

“You’re not going to tell me?” I whine.

“Nope!” he says, jumping up. “But I am going to
go make a phone call.” He leans down, kisses my still-pouted lips, and jogs out
of the room. I pull my legs up against my chest, resting my chin on my knees,
and can’t help the grin that may just be permanently etched on my face for the
rest of the week. “It’s all set!” Dean says, when he returns ten minutes later.

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