“Mr. Wallace—”
“Grayson.” Determination etched his features. “On Friday Cory’s teacher asked if I’d consider talking to you about mentoring Cory. I’ve considered it, and I’m here to discuss it.”
He was, was he? She folded her arms. Out of the blue this stranger wanted to spend time with her son? Become his role model? Was he out of his mind? Does he think I’m out of mine? Since Duke’s passing, she’d had men come up with doozies of excuses to worm their way into her life, but this got top honors for originality.
“You know,” the officer prodded when she didn’t immediately respond, “I could give him some man time.”
With a cop? What was Cory’s teacher thinking? That could exacerbate her son’s fixation.
“I’m sorry, but—”
He raised a hand to halt her. “I didn’t say anything on Friday, but since then I’ve had time to think about it. So if you feel it would be beneficial in any way, if it might help Cory settle down and—”
“Settle down? Exactly what did Miss Gilbert tell you about my son?” She’d have a talk with her tomorrow.
His forehead creased. “Don’t get riled up at Cory’s teacher. She said pretty much what you told me yourself. You know, that he’s preoccupied with policemen. She thinks he’s overly concerned about the man who killed his father and is aggressively acting out on his feelings.”
“That term is considerably stronger than the situation warrants.”
“Likely so. Nevertheless, Miss Gilbert is worried about him and noticed how Cory and I hit it off that day.”
“She means well, but doesn’t fully understand the situation.” Did Miss Gilbert think so little of her parenting abilities that she felt a need to push Cory off on a man she didn’t even know? The implication stung. Elise forced a smile. “Thank you for stopping by, but teaming my son with a police officer—after the loss of his father in the line of duty—isn’t a good idea.”
“I understand, but—”
“I appreciate your considerate offer, but it’s not in Cory’s best interests.”
From out of nowhere, her son galloped down the hallway to slip by her and into the apartment. She stepped back inside, as well.
“Have a good evening, Officer Wallace.”
With a quick glance in his direction, she closed the door.
* * *
Monday after work as Gray grilled supper on the enclosed patio outside his ground-floor condo, the rejection of the night before still stung.
The sole consolation was how pretty Elise had looked in her velour sweats as she delivered the dismissal, dainty pink-painted toenails peeping below the soft, shapely pants. Her hair, loose from its customary bun, cascaded down her back. She smelled good, too. Like roses in his mom’s garden back in Appleton.
He turned the steak over, its juices sizzling in the low flame as he savored the memory of Ms. Lopez attired for a relaxing Sunday evening at home, bare feet and all. Was it his fault he could almost envision her cuddled up beside him on the sofa, soft and warm, watching Sunday Night Football?
He had to admit, though, that while her curt dismissal of his suggestion to spend time with Cory rankled, he was genuinely relieved. He’d volunteered because he felt obligated, not due to a driving need to get involved with some woman’s kid again.
If this past weekend his sister Violet hadn’t told him of the challenges she and Jack faced growing up without a dad, he’d have minded his own business. If Maddie hadn’t shared the struggles her soon-to-be stepdaughter experienced when her father had been absent during her earliest years, or Gray hadn’t been reminded of the impact the church youth coach Reggie Lenard had on his own life, he’d never have considered it.
If he hadn’t seen that stupid cowboy hat in a truck stop...
So, bottom line, he was good with being let off the hook. God was looking out for him, as He had the night he’d dived off that balcony to elude an unhappy guy with a gun.
His plate was already stacked high enough, what with physical therapy to get a dislocated shoulder back in shape and trying to find his dad. He’d scheduled a few days off this week to devote time to the latter pursuit. He could only hope and pray he’d be the bearer of good news soon.
He’d pulled the steak from the grill and deposited it onto a plate when his cell phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number as work or family related, but maybe it was someone responding to a query about his dad’s whereabouts.
“Wallace.”
“Grayson Wallace?”
The lilting, feminine tone didn’t sound like your typical telemarketer.
“Speaking.”
“This is Elise Lopez—Cory’s mother.”
Well, well, well. He eased himself into a nearby patio chair, picturing her as he’d last seen her—arms folded and dark eyes pleading with him to get lost. Sensing the armor around her from the moment their gazes first met at the school, he had no idea how he’d gotten up the nerve to hand her his business card. She’d probably thought it a mighty bold move. After last night’s send-off, he never expected she’d use it. Had she thought of yet another reason why having him around wouldn’t be in her son’s best interests and was dying to share it with him?
“I’m sorry to disturb you this evening,” she rushed breathlessly as if wanting to get the call over with as quickly as possible, “but I’m afraid I’ve underestimated the situation with Cory’s adjustment to school. Do you have time to meet with me this evening? If it’s not too inconvenient, at the coffee shop across the street from the clinic where I work?”
He gave a longing glance at his cooling dinner, but sat up straighter at the note of urgency in her voice. “I can do that.”
“Thank you.”
“Is everything...okay?” Dumb question. Of course it wasn’t or she wouldn’t be talking to him at the moment. It didn’t take a genius to figure out calling a cop for a favor—any cop—was clearly an act of desperation.
“It looks as if—” her words came softly in his ear “—I’ll be taking you up on your offer to spend time with Cory.”
* * *
“I got a call from the school early this afternoon.” Elise leaned forward in the coffee-shop booth next to a window, arms resting on the table as she took in the concerned countenance of the last man on earth she wanted to turn to for help. “He’s been suspended for two days. For fighting. And not just fighting, but for starting the fights.”
Grayson frowned. “Fights. As in plural.”
“Yes.” Could he hear the shame in her words? Know how hard she fought to keep her lips from trembling?
“The first time when playing cops and robbers during recess and he didn’t get picked to be a cop. A relatively minor scuffle. But later in the day there was an altercation in the lunchroom. Cory was showing a classmate a picture of his dad in uniform and an older boy made a comment about Duke not being too bright if he stood there and let someone shoot him.” She took a steadying breath. “I guess that was all it took. Cory bloodied his nose. Another kid joined in and the next thing you know—”
“You’ve got a brawl.”
“Yes.”
“Was Cory hurt?”
Her lips tightened. “Minor scrapes. Bruises. The other boys the same. Nothing of a serious nature...but enough to get him suspended.”
“Were the other boys suspended, too?” To her relief, he sounded as if he was in Cory’s corner,