The Sweetest Hours (Harlequin Superromance) (28 page)

“I’m glad she’s doing well. It can be a big transition for some kids, that leap from elementary to middle school.”

She looked as if she expected him to respond to that but since he had nothing to add, he kept quiet.

“Well,” she said, “anyway, thank you for coming in today. I was sorry we didn’t get a chance to talk at the open house.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly. Straightened in his uncomfortable seat. Was that a reprimand? If it was, why couldn’t she lay into him instead of making him guess whether or not she was pissed? “I was working.”

When he wasn’t working, he spent time with his kid, not running off to meetings and socializing. He wasn’t going to apologize for it.

“Are you still at Bradford House?” Harper asked.

He nodded. Everyone wanted to know about Bradford House. Some were interested in the renovations Montesano Construction was doing at one of the oldest homes in Shady Grove, Pennsylvania. They wanted a description of every room, or an invitation to see the soon-to-be fully operational bed-and-breakfast themselves without actually paying to stay there.

Or they brought up Bradford House’s owner, Neil Pettit, a hometown boy who was now one of the NHL’s elite players. They wanted the latest gossip, insider information about Neil’s reasons for buying the Victorian, his sister Fay’s suicide attempt and his reconciliation with Eddie’s younger sister, Maddie, a few months back.

Eddie drummed his fingers on his thigh. Waited for Harper to start with the inevitable questions or probing comments, ones designed to get answers to topics that were none of her business.

“It’s so great that Neil and Maddie are together after all these years of living separate lives.”

See?

He grunted.

She remained undeterred and, unfortunately, talkative. “It’s so romantic.” She leaned forward as if they were two good buddies sharing happy secrets and fun times. “High school sweethearts falling in love again.”

Romantic.
Christ.

Funny how so many people agreed with Harper. Guess they conveniently forgot how Neil took off after getting a sixteen-year-old Maddie pregnant. That he’d been in their daughter’s life only part-time until recently.

Most people except Eddie and his two brothers. Hard to let something like that go, especially when it happened to your baby sister and niece. Eddie, James and Leo might forgive what Neil did—mainly because Maddie wanted them to. But forget? Not in this lifetime.

“I think it’s wonderful Bradford House is being renovated. It’s always been one of my favorite houses in Shady Grove,” Harper continued. “I was by there last week. That wraparound porch you added is gorgeous.”

“I didn’t add it,” Eddie said. He’d been working on a bathroom remodel across town when the exterior work had been done at Bradford House.

Her smile dimmed, going from supernova bright to regular shining-star glowing. “I meant
you
as in Montesano Construction.”

He lifted his right shoulder.

“Okay,” Harper said, drawing the word out. “Guess that’s enough shop talk. No, no—” she held out her hand as if to stop him from speaking, though his mouth remained tightly closed “—really, I know you could go on and on and on about your work but let’s stick to the subject at hand, shall we?”

Scratching his cheek—he really did need a shave—he narrowed his eyes. She was messing with him. He wouldn’t have thought she had it in her, not when she looked all innocent and sincere.

“Max is a very sweet boy,” Harper said as if she hadn’t been yanking Eddie’s chain. “He excels in art, has a real talent for it. Not that I’m an expert or anything but I know what I like.” She smiled at her own lame joke, didn’t seem to mind that Eddie didn’t.

“I really enjoy having Max in my room. He’s kind and thoughtful but a bit of a loner. If we could get him to open up more, to come out of his shell—”

“Being shy isn’t a character flaw that needs overcoming,” Eddie said quietly.

Max was fine the way he was, and if he wanted to stay in his shell, so be it. As a kid, Eddie had been told to talk more, be more outgoing and friendlier. All he’d ever wanted was to be left in peace with his thoughts.

“No, of course it’s not.” Harper sounded confused, looked flustered and embarrassed. “I only meant it might be good for him to make a few friends.”

Max had friends. Max had
a
friend, Eddie amended. Joey Malone, a kid he’d met in first grade. They were in different classes this year but still hung out.

“That why you wanted to see me?” Eddie asked. “To discuss Max’s social life?”

She opened her mouth only to snap it shut and shake her head, as if getting rid of whatever she’d been about to say. “Actually, I want to discuss Max’s progress so far this year. The first marking period ends in two weeks.” She slid a yellow paper from the pile on her desk and held it out to him. “Maybe once you see his progress report, you’ll understand why I’m concerned.”

Eddie forced himself to take the paper. The diamonds in her wedding rings caught the afternoon sunlight so that it dappled across the top of her desk.

He rubbed his thumb around the base of his left ring finger. It’d been years since he’d worn his own wedding band, but he could still feel the weight of it. As the foundation of his marriage had become weaker, the gold ring signifying the vows he’d taken—the vows he’d given—had grown tighter. Heavier with the weight of his failure.

But then, Harper hadn’t failed at marriage—she’d probably never failed at anything in her entire life. Her marriage hadn’t ended due to lack of effort or love, but because her husband had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, an innocent bystander killed during a convenience store robbery in Pittsburgh last year. She still wore her ring.

Eddie had taken his off the moment Lena had shut the door when she’d walked out on their marriage. When she’d walked out on their son.

He’d never put one on again.

Bracing himself, he read Max’s progress report. Exhaled heavily. One D. Four Fs.

“As you can see, Max is struggling in all subjects.” Her voice was laced with compassion. She watched him with understanding.

He wished she’d knock it off. He didn’t need her pity. Didn’t want her kindness.

“What do we do?” Eddie asked.

She nodded as if that was the right thing to ask, the correct response. Great. Give him a gold star for being a concerned parent.

“Max has some issues focusing which, I believe, could be one of the factors affecting his schoolwork.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Eddie said. “Tell him to pay more attention in class.”

“That would be helpful, but I’m afraid it might not be enough. What I would like is your permission to have Dr. Crosby—one of the school district’s psychologists—observe Max’s behavior.”

“Observe?” Like an animal in a test lab? Poked and prodded and singled out from his classmates.

“It’s only to see if she agrees with my assessment.”

“Your assessment.” Yeah, he sounded like a parrot, repeating everything she said, but he couldn’t figure out what the hell she was getting at. “You said he’s not paying attention in class.”

“Yes, but I’m concerned that lack of focus—along with other symptoms—could be signs of a bigger issue.”

Eddie stiffened to the point he worried one errant breeze would break him into a million pieces. “What symptoms?”

“I’d rather not get too far ahead of ourselves until after Dr. Crosby—”

“What. Symptoms.”

The only sign she gave that his low, dangerous tone bugged her was a small, resigned sigh. “Max has a hard time sitting still—”

“He’s a boy. He has a lot of energy.”

Her lips thinned but her tone remained calm. “He frequently fails to finish his schoolwork, even when given ample time to do so, and he often works carelessly. He shifts from one unfinished activity to another, has difficulty following through on instructions, working on his own and waiting for his turn in tasks, games and group situations. He’s also easily distracted, often loses or misplaces items necessary to complete tasks—such as his pencil or workbook.”

“He’s seven.” Eddie bit out the words, her list of the ways his son was lacking blowing through him, swirling around his head in endless repetition. “Kids misplace things and aren’t always patient.”

“True. And that may very well be the case here. But as Max’s teacher, I feel it’s in his best interest to have Dr. Crosby come in and give her opinion. If you’ll just sign this—” she slid a paper in front of him “—we can get started.”

Eddie glanced from the permission slip to the pen she held out and then to his son’s grades, the black letters stark on the pale yellow background. He should sign the damn paper and let Harper do what she felt necessary, what she thought best. She was the teacher, the person entrusted with his son’s care and education for the next eight months.

“What bigger issue could it be?” Eddie asked.

“I’d rather not speculate—”

“I’d rather you did.”

She slowly lowered the pen. For the first time, she seemed reluctant to speak—must be a new sensation for her. “Max’s behavior could...possibly...be symptoms of Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. But I’m not qualified to make any diagnoses,” she added quickly. “Which is why I’d like Dr. Crosby’s help.”

“ADD,” Eddie said, still trying to wrap his mind around the fact there could be something wrong with his son. “Don’t they put kids on drugs for that?”

“Medication is one option, but there are also modifications that can be made in the classroom. Instructional strategies and practices that can be implemented to help children with ADHD learn.”

“So if Max has ADH—” he emphasized the H as she had “—D, and you use those strategies, his grades will improve?”

“Possibly.”

The second
possibly
she’d given him in under a minute. When it came to his kid, Eddie preferred
definitely.
“What else is there?”

“There are other options.” She averted her gaze as she moved the stapler to the left only to put it back exactly where it had been. “But let’s not worry about any of that until we get through these first steps.”

He had a child, was solely responsible for the well-being of another person. For making sure his son was healthy and happy and whole. It was his job to worry. And to get straight answers out of smiley, sunshiny teachers who were blowing smoke up his ass.

“What options?”

Her smile turned to steel. “Options we’ll discuss after Dr. Crosby has made her observation.”

Nudging the paper forward, she held out the pen again.

Eddie’s fingers tightened, crumpling the edges of the progress report. Frustration coursed through him, hot and edgy. But worse than that was the fear. The terrifying thought that if Max was diagnosed with ADHD, he’d spend the rest of his life wearing that label. His peers would judge him, would think he was deficient in some way. He’d be put into a box, one he’d never be able to escape from.

Eddie wanted to slap the pen from Harper’s hand. Wipe his arm across the top of her desk, knocking aside the wooden holder so that pens and pencils scattered over the floor. He wanted to tell her in no uncertain terms what she could do with her observation, her opinion and her sympathetic expression.

He looked at his son. Max was perfect, just the way he was. And Harper wanted some psychologist with more education than common sense to tell him there was something wrong with him? So Max would think he wasn’t smart enough? Capable enough? Good enough?

There was only one response to that, one he was more than happy to give as he faced Harper.

“No.”

Copyright © 2013 by Beth Burgoon

ISBN-13: 9781460323274

THE SWEETEST HOURS

Copyright © 2013 by Cathryn Parry

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