Saving a Legend: A Kavanagh Legends Novel (4 page)

“Different brother, but yes.”

“All right, if any of that changes, you need to let me know immediately. We’ll be meeting every Monday morning at this time, and if you miss even one appointment, we will have a warrant out for your arrest. Here’s my card, and you can call me anytime you need to talk.” The officer handed him a small business card.

“Yes, sir.” Kieran nodded, feeling nervous at the ease with which he could end up behind bars once again.

“For your three hundred hours of community service, you’re going to be working at a local youth center, right here in Woodlawn.”

“Working with kids?” Kieran’s brows shot up, unsure if the officer knew what he was saying. “I don’t really have any experience with children. Plus, do parents want an ex-con around their kids?”

Huppert waved his hand, dismissing his worries.

“Doesn’t matter, you’ll learn. You’ve got a college degree, and that’s a hell of a lot more than most of my other parolees have. This youth center has mainly at-risk kids, even though it isn’t solely for that. Administrators there think someone with your background could help get through to some of these kids. Scare-them-straight kind of thing. It’s a new initiative, so we’ll see how it goes.”

“What will I be doing there?”

“Tutoring mainly, but also doing whatever the hell the admin wants you to do. You’ll be there three hours a day, every afternoon, Monday through Friday. Here’s the information and address. Ask for Ms. Hannigan when you arrive. She’s expecting you as soon as we’re done here, for a tour and all that, so you should get going.”

“Yes, sir.” Kieran took the paper offered to him and left the office.

His parole officer was a no-nonsense kind of guy, and Kieran appreciated that—a clear and straight talker was just the type of person he liked to deal with.

Woodlawn was a small neighborhood, all within walking distance, and he arrived at the Woodlawn Youth Center only fifteen minutes later. The run-down building outside was dull and parts were marked with graffiti; one of the windows was covered with cardboard.

As he pulled on the door handle, the front door scraped open with a loud groan that caused his whole body to tense. He really needed this to go well, starting with a good first impression. Luckily, the room he had just stepped into was empty, except for the young woman sitting at a desk on which a tiny plaque read receptionist.

“Hi, I’m looking for Ms. Hannigan. Can you point me in the right direction?” Kieran asked, giving her a friendly smile.

“Sure, and you are?” She pushed her glasses up her nose and lifted the phone receiver to her ear, her hand hovering over the number pad.

“Kieran Kavanagh.”

“Kavanagh? As in
the
Kavanaghs?” She did a double take, perusing him slowly this time. “The one who just got out of prison?”

“Uh,” he stuttered. He knew everyone in Woodlawn talked, but he had been unprepared for her directness.

Finally, he nodded, doing his best not to show his annoyance. The receptionist turned her attention back to the phone and dialed an extension, telling the person on the other end in a hushed tone that he had arrived. Kieran wandered away from the desk and looked around the room as he waited.

It was on the small side and set up similar to a doctor’s office, with chairs and low tables holding a clutter of teen magazines. The ceiling was low—Kieran’s head was only a few inches from brushing it. There were colorful, inspirational posters on the walls, including one of a kitten holding on to a tree branch, with the quote hang in there. Nothing in the room matched, but somehow the random collection of different-colored furniture worked.

“Mr. Kavanagh?” a young woman called from behind him, and he turned back to the receptionist to see a thin woman of average height standing next to her.

The new woman had tight, blond curls that hung down to her shoulders and reminded him a little bit of his brother’s girlfriend, Clare. She offered her hand to him, smiling warmly as her hazel eyes sparkled. Everything about her was relaxed and casual, probably the best sort of person to manage a center for at-risk kids.

“That’s me,” he confirmed as he took her small hand in his large grip, impressed that someone so young ran everything. She made him think of Fiona from the flower shop, someone else so young and in charge of her own business.

“I’m Nora Hannigan, the youth program’s main coordinator, but just call me Nora. May I call you Kieran?”

He smiled and nodded. “Of course.”

“We’re happy to have you working with us over the next few months.” She beamed at him with a quirky, slightly off-center grin, and he wondered why he was thinking about Fiona when such a gorgeous woman was standing right in front of him.

“Uh, thanks. I’m a bit surprised to hear that,” he admitted.

“Why?” She furrowed her brow as she motioned for him to follow her through a door that led farther into the building.

“The whole just-got-out-of-prison-and-on-parole thing, maybe? Your receptionist seemed less than impressed.”

“Oh, that. Well, that doesn’t bother me at all, and it won’t bother the kids. Most of them have at least one parent in prison, if not both, or know someone who is. We’re hoping they’ll find you relatable, and that you’ll influence them in a positive way.”

“I guess that makes sense. How did you end up here, then?”

“I’m working on my doctorate of psychology, and I interned here last year and kind of never left. I’m still in school, but I ended up taking this job because I really enjoy working with the kids.”

Kieran nodded as she spoke, admiring her for being someone who clearly gave so much of herself on a regular basis.

“From what I hear,” Nora continued as she led him down a hall, then into her office, “you’re out on good behavior and looking to turn your life around. Is that true?”

“Yes, for sure. I made a stupid mistake; it cost me. I did my time, and that’s going to be the end of it,” he assured her.

“Good, then you’re perfect for the job.” Nora sat down at her desk, and Kieran pulled out a chair across from her and got comfortable. She continued, “These kids need guidance and role models. Especially male role models. The majority of them are considered at-risk, but we have a wide variety of kids here, and you’ll learn that they all need something a little different.”

“Okay, well, I’ve never really worked with kids before.”

“That’s fine, most kids like to be treated as you’d treat any adult. With respect, and like your equal. None of them want to be coddled. The majority of the kids you’ll be working with are teenagers who come here after school and stay until their parents pick them up. They need homework help, some tutoring, and monitoring of their recreation time. Sound good?”

“Sure. Doesn’t sound too hard.”

“It’s not,” Nora confirmed as a young girl walked into the room, interrupting them. She couldn’t have been older than eight or nine. She held a book in her hands but seemed not to be looking directly at anything. Instead, she found a spot on the ceiling to focus on as she came to a stop before them.

There was something ever so slightly off about her expression, something that indicated a deeper issue that made him immediately feel protective of her. She seemed fragile, and he found himself wishing something better for her than spending her time in a place like this every day.

“I’m all finished.” The child wore jean overalls, a pink T-shirt covered in flowers, and worn sneakers. Her hair was tied back in two braids, one hanging down over either shoulder, and she handed Nora a thick book. She reached up and carefully adjusted a pair of very large earmuffs that looked like the type of outer-ear protection you’d wear at a gun range.

Except they were pale pink.

“Shea, sweetheart, I’m in the middle of a meeting.” Nora’s voice softened as she addressed the young child, and she took the book and placed it on a shelf by her desk. “Can I get you another book later?”

“I’m all finished,” Shea said again, not hearing Nora as she fidgeted with her fingers and stared up at the ceiling.

Nora gently lifted one side of the earmuffs so the child could hear her. “I’ll bring you another book in a few minutes. Okay?”

“I read one hundred pages. I’m all finished. I need the next one.” Shea didn’t seem to understand that Nora was asking her to wait.

“Kieran, would you mind waiting here for a minute?” Nora asked, obviously wanting to get Shea settled.

“Sure, take your time.” He watched them walk out of the room, holding hands. Glancing around the small room, Kieran spotted a pamphlet for the center on Nora’s desk. He picked it up, slowly flipping through it to pass the time. Nora was gone only a few minutes before returning alone.

“Sorry about that, thanks for waiting. Shea is such a sweet girl, although she isn’t technically enrolled here at the youth center. Her guardian is one of my best friends,” Nora explained, “and needs help watching her during the day while she’s at work.”

“That’s nice of you. She seems sweet but a little impatient,” he noted.

“Oh, no, she isn’t impatient. Well, I guess she is, but she doesn’t mean to be. It’s not her fault. Shea has autism spectrum disorder, although she’s on the mild side of the spectrum and high functioning.”

Ashamed of his earlier observations, it all made sense now. “Really? Wow, I don’t know much about it, but I’ve heard it mentioned on the news.”

He wondered how much of what he’d just seen was due to autism, like why she hadn’t made eye contact with them. He wondered if the headgear also had something to do with it.

“It presents itself differently in every child. She’s extremely smart, mostly because she reads so much, but she struggles with understanding emotions and with sensory overstimulation; plus, she has some communication issues. She can also be a bit inflexible, mainly because routine is so important to her. When she first learned to read, she became voracious and wouldn’t stop. So a while ago her mother made a rule of one hundred pages a day, which Shea adopted to mean exactly one hundred pages without stopping every single daytime.”

“Like she’ll stop in the middle of the sentence if it’s the one hundredth page?” Kieran asked.

“Exactly.”

“Is that why she wears the earmuffs? Or whatever they are?” he asked.

“Well, that’s the sensory overstimulation part of it. Noise can be a very tough thing for some autistic children, and the headgear tends to limit the number of meltdowns she has. Helps keep her calm.”

“Wow.” He made a mental note to keep an eye on the child around the center and make sure no harm came to her. He wondered again why her mother had placed her here rather than with other autistic kids and better resources.

“You’ll meet her guardian later this afternoon. She comes and teaches a class a couple times a week. They’re both sweethearts, so I’m sure you’ll get along. There’s no need to treat Shea any differently because of this, either. Like I said, she’s a perfectly smart and capable child, sometimes even beyond her age.”

“Of course,” Kieran assured her.

“Perfect.” Nora stood and moved to the door. “So, are you ready for a tour and to get started?”

Kieran just nodded and followed her, happy to find he was already enjoying his time here and he hadn’t even started yet. Maybe community service wouldn’t be so bad.

Chapter 3

“Seriously? An ex-con?” Fiona’s mouth fell open as she perched her hands on her hips and stared back at her oldest friend in the world.

“It’s not that serious, Fi.” Nora waved her hand like it was nothing.

Fiona frowned, glancing at where Shea sat on a bench across the yard reading her book for the day. “It is most definitely serious. Can I even leave her here with an ex-con on staff?”

“He’s not on staff, just helping out for a few months. I will make sure someone has eyes on him anytime he is here. He’s been doing great so far.” Nora handed her a bucket full of gardening supplies from a small storage shed out behind the center.

“I know you’ll watch out for her, but I just worry, you know? I had to jump through so many hoops to get custody of her. I’m always nervous that something could happen to take her away from me.”

“Fi, they gave you custody because you were the best person to care for her. Bottom line. The social worker knew Shea would be spending time here, despite all the at-risk kids we have. Try not to worry about it. It’s going to be fine. He really seems like a great man and has a good record, minus the whole prison thing. Plus, his family pretty much runs this town, so they can do whatever they want.” Nora followed her over to the community garden Fiona had helped the children build over the last few months.

“You’re right, you’re right. I trust you, but I definitely don’t trust him. So help me, Nora, if he lays a finger on her,
I’ll
end up in prison.”

“I’d be sitting in the cell right next to you.” Nora wrapped an arm around Fiona’s shoulders and squeezed comfortingly. “Have you thought any more about getting Shea into a different school with full-day programs? Maybe somewhere more suited to her needs than here?”

“She does need that, and I’m trying. I’m saving up, so maybe next year…” Fiona trailed off, guilt overwhelming her because she knew she wasn’t doing enough. She was doing the best she could with the few resources she had, but she still fell short. Currently, Shea went to public school during the day, which was severely lacking in the special-education department, and then spent afternoons at the center with Nora. The all-day private school Fiona wanted for Shea focused not only on academics but also on different types of inclusive therapies.

She’d started her own business before she’d known she’d have a child to care for. College had never been an option for her. She got her first job while she was in high school to help support her mom and Shea and had been working ever since. She had finally been able to convince a bank to extend to her a small business loan so she could start the flower shop, something she’d dreamed of doing since she was young. Now she was hoping the shop might help her give Shea everything she deserved.

“I know, Mama Bear. Don’t feel bad, we’ve got this.”