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Those lips curved into a bright smile. She switched her coffee cup to her left hand and offered him her right one. “Hello, Eddie. It’s so nice to see you.”
With a nod, he shook her hand. Though he’d known her since kindergarten, he’d never touched her before. Her palm was warm against his. Soft.
Awareness bolted through him. He acknowledged it was partly due to the remnants of the teenage fantasies playing in his head. Accepted it as a man’s instinctual response to an attractive woman.
Acknowledged it, accepted it. Then let it—and her hand—go.
“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting,” she said.
“You didn’t.”
He wasn’t sure if she’d meant it as a real concern or a reprimand for his being early. He gave a mental shrug. Didn’t matter to him either way. He’d had a break at work so he’d taken off. No sense finding something to do for a few minutes so he could arrive precisely at four o’clock.
“Max,” Harper said, sounding surprised when Max sidled up to Eddie, pressed against his side. “Still stuck here?”
Max lifted a shoulder.
She wrinkled her nose. “That’s a drag. I can’t wait to leave at the end of the day. Hey, would you do me a favor?” Before Max could even blink, she continued in her rapid-fire speech. “Could you walk—and by walk I mean that slow movement of putting one foot in front of the other that is not running, hopping or skipping—to the office to check if I have any mail?”
Seemed she knew Max well. He didn’t do anything slowly. Except talk.
While Max headed toward the door, Harper gestured for Eddie to follow her as she crossed the room. His gaze fell to the sway of her hips. She had on tan pants and a long sweater the color of rust that molded to her ass. A wide brown belt accentuated the indentation of her waist and he wondered, briefly, what it would be like to set his hands there.
He stumbled, bumped into a desk.
She glanced over her shoulder at him.
His face burning, he stared resolutely at a spot somewhere above her head. Maybe he hadn’t fully let that earlier awareness go.
“I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me.” She set her cup on the desk. “Although, I have to admit, I was hoping to speak with you alone.”
“I didn’t have time to find a sitter.”
Hadn’t taken the time to find one. Not when it wasn’t necessary. He only asked for help with his kid when there was no other solution. Absolutely, positively no other solution.
“It’s not a problem,” she assured him. “But would you mind if I gave him something to keep him occupied while we talk?”
Eddie shrugged.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” she said cheerily, then gestured to the chair across from her desk. “Can I get you anything? There’s coffee in the break room or—”
“Is Max in trouble?” Eddie loved his kid more than life itself, but that didn’t mean he thought Max could do no wrong. Everyone made mistakes. Best if you owned up to them, learned from them and, most importantly, never repeated the same one twice.
Max was having a hard time with that last part.
“Trouble? No, he’s not in trouble,” she said slowly enough that he didn’t believe her. “I thought we should touch base on a couple of things, that’s all.”
After sitting, she organized a pile of papers. He could practically see her organizing her thoughts, as well. Her desk was covered; papers and math workbooks were stacked in neat piles, a plastic bin sat empty at the corner. A stapler, tape dispenser and hole punch lined up with the edge of the desk. Pencils, pens and markers were jumbled together in a wooden holder declaring that Teachers Have Class.
She was as tidy and put together as her desk, her hair smooth, her nails trimmed and painted a light pink.
He rubbed the frayed knees of his jeans. Wondered if he should have gone home, shaved first, but that would have been stupid, going all the way across town to comb his hair and rid himself of his day-old—okay, three-day-old—beard. He had no one to impress here. Nothing to prove. His kid was well dressed, well mannered and, other than a few scrapes in the playground last year, well behaved.
And well loved.
If Harper didn’t see that, she wasn’t as smart as her rank in their high school graduating class had indicated.
“No mail?” Harper asked as Max returned.
He shook his head.
“Thanks for checking. Would you like to play a game on the iPad while your dad and I talk?”
“Okay,” he said quietly, his gaze flicking to his teacher’s face before lowering again.
“Great.” She took an iPad from her desk drawer, handed it and headphones to him. “Why don’t you sit in the beanbag chair?”
He hurried to the corner and toed off his sneakers. Sitting cross-legged, he put on the headphones and, as easily as that, was cut off from the world, lost in whatever educational game Harper had on that tablet.
Those things were like magic.
“I was thrilled to see Max’s name on my class list at the beginning of the year,” Harper said, sounding as if she really meant it. “I had your niece and she was a pure delight.”
Because Bree always worried about doing the right thing, loved to read and never got a grade lower than an A. Sort of like the woman before him. In school Harper had been one of the brainiacs. Popular with both students and teachers, she’d been incredibly smart and impossibly friendly.
It wasn’t natural to be that nice all the time.
No surprise Harper thought highly of Bree. He didn’t hold his niece’s sweetness or intelligence against her. He loved her like crazy.
He just didn’t want his son compared to her.
“Bree’s a good girl,” he said.
“She is. She must be in what...? Fifth grade now?”
“Sixth.”
“Middle school? It doesn’t seem possible. How’s she liking it?”
“Fine.” And what any of this had to do with Harper’s reason for calling him to meet with her, he had no idea. Women. Why couldn’t they just say what was on their mind? It would save everyone a hell of a lot of time and trouble.
“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.”
