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Now Shannon couldn’t stop herself. “What do you mean, ‘Have fun?’”
“I’m what they call a ‘placement challenge.’”
“Why?” She tried to ignore that he’d spoken to Mark instead of her.
“ADHD.” This time Blake stared directly at her as he spat the acronym for Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. He seemed to have forgotten that he hadn’t sent a single syllable her way since they’d left Hope Haven.
“That’s not a big deal,” Shannon assured him. “A lot of kids have that diagnosis.”
That Blake happened to be one of them didn’t surprise her, either. She’d been with him only a few hours, and she’d already picked up on his distractibility and fidgetiness. While before she’d been uncomfortable with the idea of her son being placed with another family, she bristled now that some foster parents wouldn’t want him. How could they be so cruel as to reject her child?
Blake crossed his arms. “ADHD kids aren’t the ones that foster parents are begging to bring home with them. Low on the cute-little-kid scale. Older kids and those who’ve had trips to juvie are even tougher sales.”
Shannon took an unsteady breath as the impact of his words became clear. Blake was a member of all three groups. Three strikes against him in a state system where the statistics weren’t on his side. A system she’d subjected him to when she’d signed that voluntary release of parental rights.
“Trooper Shoffner, didn’t you say you had good news, too?” She managed to keep her voice level, though she was tempted to beg him to say something offering a little hope.
“Right.”
But he waited as if he expected Blake to look over at him. Instead, the boy continued picking at his cuticles, his gaze darting to the side. He was curious, all right. Finally, he sat up and looked at the officer.
“The grocery store owner decided not to press charges. Because of mitigating circumstances, we might be able to have the runaway charges reduced.”
Blake’s expression remained carefully neutral, the mask of a child who’d learned never to hope for too much. Finally, he nodded. It was something.
Trooper Shoffner didn’t take credit for convincing the store owner not to press charges or for speaking to the Oakland County prosecutor, but Shannon suspected he’d done both. She’d practiced adult maneuvering like that when a few of her girls had continued making poor decisions. A fleeting thought reminded her that Hope Haven residents might not wish to be called “her girls” after today, but she couldn’t think about that until Blake’s situation was under control. And she was beginning to wonder if that was even possible.
Two uniformed officers suddenly filled the doorway. Shannon remembered the muscular male trooper. He was the one who’d taken a report when a boy involved with one of her residents had shown up to cause trouble. She didn’t recognize the female trooper, an attractive blonde with her hair tied in a loose bun.
“Now, let me get this right.” The man paused, one side of his mouth lifting. “You let a juvenile suspect convince you to take him back to his house, and, instead, he led you to a home for teen mothers? Priceless!”
“Was he hoping to enroll there?” The female trooper laughed at her own joke, and then her gaze narrowed. “Didn’t you know about Hope Haven?”
“I do now.” Mark gestured toward the other officers. “Trooper Angela Vincent and Trooper Brody Davison, meet Shannon Lyndon and Blake Wilson.”
“We’ve met.” Shannon shook Trooper Davison’s hand.
He studied her for a few seconds and then nodded. “I remember. A suspect was harassing one of the girls. A real Dad-of-the-Year. But Trooper Shoffner here will have a better story about his visit to Hope Haven.”
Mark frowned as his fellow officer patted him on the back. “Have I mentioned that Mr. Wilson believes Miss Lyndon is his birth mother or that Miss Lyndon does not dispute the claim?”
“What?” Trooper Davison asked.
“Excuse me?” Trooper Vincent chimed.
The officers looked from Mark to Shannon and back to Mark again.
The female officer pressed her hands together. “Clearly we don’t have the whole story, so we’ll let you get back to it.” Already, she started backing away from the door, with the other trooper copying her exit.
“Is there a problem in here?”
Another uniformed officer stood just outside the doorway, blocking their exit in the already cramped space. He had eyeglasses and a boyish face that made him look like a teenager, but from the way the three other officers straightened at his appearance, he was in charge.
“No, Lieutenant.” His jaw tightening, Trooper Shoffner shot an annoyed look at his fellow troopers and then gestured to his superior officer. “Everyone, please meet Lt. Matt Dawson.”
He made another round of introductions and gestured toward the other troopers. “They were just leaving.”
“Uh, he’s right,” Trooper Davison said. “We have to get back out on patrol.”
Lt. Dawson nodded. “I’m sure the residents of Michigan will appreciate your diligence.”
Once they had disappeared down the hall, the lieutenant turned back to Mark. “I assume you have this under control, Trooper Shoffner?”
“Yes, sir.” But as soon as the officer stepped away, Mark pursed his lips, and his hand thudded on the desktop. “That went well. New guy perks.”
Something was going on with Trooper Shoffner at work, but she had more important things than that to worry about right now. Out in the squad room, the state worker was still on her cell phone.
“How do you think she’s doing?”
“I’m sure she’ll find something soon.” Mark looked far less certain than his claim.
“...and thanks so much for your time,” the woman said before ending the call.
As the state caseworker reentered the interview room, Shannon held her breath. Something was squeezing her heart from the inside out. She’d felt pain like this only once before. The empty receiving blanket. The void in her arms. She’d just found Blake, and he was being taken away again. Would he be placed far away so she wouldn’t have the chance to get to know him? How could she earn his forgiveness if she couldn’t be near him?
“I’ve been making some calls,” Miss Lafferty began, “but unfortunately, we’ve been unable to find a foster placement for Blake this morning—”
“What about an emergency placement?” Mark asked.
“I’ve tried that, too, but our numbers are really high right now, and with Thanksgiving just days away... Well, even our emergency homes are...unable to house him at this time.” As she sat in the only available chair, the woman’s gaze shifted to Blake, but then she looked away.
Shannon’s pulse thudded in her ears. How dare they turn away her son? But her breath caught as another idea sprang into her thoughts, eclipsing the righteous anger in its wake. Was it possible? Could there be a chance?
She took a deep breath, grasping for calm. “So you’re saying that Blake has no place to go?”
The state worker shook her head. “Of course not. There’s a spot for him at the Community Children’s Center.”
“You can’t take him there!”
Even Shannon heard the shriek in her voice, so she didn’t try to convince herself that the others had missed it. Blake and the trooper shot questioning glances her way. The caseworker stared at her with wide eyes.
“I mean, that’s not...er...the most appropriate placement for him.”
“It would be a temporary placement, of course,” the social worker said with a sigh.
Mark pushed back from the desk, gripping its edge with both hands. “Wait. Community Children’s Center is where we incarcerate teens, isn’t it?”
Miss Lafferty nodded. “Yes, but it’s also an emergency placement location for teens who’ve been removed from their homes for various reasons.”
“You put them together? In the same facility?”
At Mark’s incredulous look, the woman blanched. “Well, the boys and girls are kept separate at all times, and—”
“I mean, those serving juvenile sentences and the victims of abuse or neglect,” he pressed.
Miss Lafferty opened her mouth as if to offer another explanation, but she clicked it shut. “It’s not a perfect solution. But sometimes it’s the only option we have to keep the children safe.”
“Safe?”
A hard edge had come into the officer’s voice, but Shannon had no time to debate the advisability of placing juvenile offenders with victims of neglect or abuse. Right now she had to protect her own child, the son she’d failed to shield before.
“The center isn’t Blake’s only option.”
The other two adults turned to stare at her.
“Well, it isn’t.” No longer able to sit, Shannon sprang from her chair and paced toward the door. When she turned back, Miss Lafferty was shaking her head.
“I don’t understand what you’re saying. Wait.” The woman stopped and studied her. “You’re not suggesting...”
“Of course I am. I’m Blake’s mother...his biological mother. And I am a licensed social worker with a master’s in social work, so I could easily receive emergency foster parent certification. I could become his temporary guardian until I—”
“Miss Lyndon,” the woman said to interrupt her. “I understand that this has been an emotional day for you and Mr. Wilson, but this...”
Miss Lafferty offered one of those placating smiles that Shannon had used herself with parents enrolling their pregnant teens at Hope Haven. She promised herself never to smile at them that way again.
“You haven’t thought this through. You work and live in a center for pregnant girls, not the most appropriate place for an adolescent boy.”
“We have a few details to work out, but—”
That annoying smile was enough to stop her. Shannon crossed her arms over her chest.
“You have to know that it isn’t as easy as that,” Miss Lafferty continued. “There is no proof yet that Mr. Wilson is even your child.”
“Of course he’s my son. I knew his name was Blake, and he had the letter, and he looks just like—”
She stopped herself and jerked her head to see Blake glaring at her, accusation clear in his eyes. Yes, she had a lot to explain to him about his birth father, among other things, but if she didn’t fight right now, she might never have the chance.
“I understand that you’re convinced, but the state will need more proof.” The woman cleared her throat. “Not to mention the courts.”
The last had Shannon tearing her gaze away from her son. “What do you mean by that?”
“Even if we can prove that Mr. Wilson is your biological child, then there’s that whole matter of your completing a voluntary release of parental rights. You don’t have any—”
“I was fifteen years old!”
“Why do you talk about me as if I’m not sitting right here?” Blake shouted.
He came out of his seat, and although the trooper stood as well and stepped between them to stop the boy if he approached, Mark made no attempt to restrain him. Even he had to realize that Blake had every right to be angry.
Blake pinned the state worker with his stare. “You talk about me like I’m a piece of property.”
He pointed at Shannon.
“And you.” He paused, his jaw flexing as he gritted his teeth. “You didn’t want me then, and you don’t really want me now. You just feel guilty because you sent me to live with...them.”
Her tears came instantly, and Shannon didn’t bother trying to stop them. “No. You’re wrong. I always wanted you. They just wouldn’t let—”
“I don’t want your excuses.”
“They’re not excuses. Please. Just let me explain.”
“I don’t want to live with you. I don’t want anything to do with you!”
A sob broke loose before Shannon could stop it. The world was crushing her with its unforgiving weight. She’d waited a lifetime to be reunited with Blake. She’d dreamed of it. Prayed for it. Now her chance to even get to know him was slipping away, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Worse than even the prospect that he would be placed far away from her, if he was sent to the children’s center, he might spiral further into delinquency. Would he be lost to her forever?
Miss Lafferty slowly stood. “Many details will have to be taken care of in the coming weeks. For now, I will put in another call to Community Children’s Center.”
Mark turned to her. “There’s another option.”
The woman pressed her lips together, losing her patience. “Trooper Shoffner, you called me in to assist here. It’s kind of you to be concerned, but this is a complicated situation, and you aren’t aware of all of the legalities in it. Now, please allow me to do my job.”
“I said, there’s another option.”
With a long-suffering sigh, the woman met his gaze. “And what might that be?”
“The boy can stay with me.”
Chapter Four
What had he done? As Mark allowed the social worker to usher him and Shannon into the hall, he braced his hand on the door frame to steady his head. With six words that had surprised him as much as they had everyone else, he’d done a cannonball dive into a situation that should have been wrapped in crime-scene tape or marked with a sign that said Keep Out. Still, the more he considered his knee-jerk suggestion, the more it seemed like a perfect solution for everyone. Him included.
“What was that all about?” Miss Lafferty said after she closed the door, shutting the interview room off from the squad room. She carried the thick, brown file under her arm like a football.
“Yeah. What were you thinking, saying something like that?” Shannon’s eyes were almost as wide as they’d been earlier when Blake had shown up on her doorstep.
“Now, hear me out.” But Mark didn’t rush to offer a profound explanation. He was figuring that out as he went. Because it was impossible to focus on anything with Shannon looking at him like that, he averted his gaze and spoke directly to the state worker.
“Well...I’m a state trooper.” He swallowed. Now, that was stating the obvious. His gaze slid without his permission toward Shannon, who was shuffling her feet, but he redirected his attention to Miss Lafferty.
“Anyway, I’ve already been through an extensive background check. I’ve been fingerprinted, too. An experienced professional like you, Miss Lafferty? You could get someone like me certified as an emergency placement foster parent with both hands tied behind your back.”
The woman shook her head, his flattery failing to sway her. Shannon was probably doing the same thing behind him, but he wouldn’t allow himself to check. He pressed on, determined to convince them both. He was surprised by how important it had become to him to win the argument.
“Divorced. No dependents. I live alone. I couldn’t have less complications for doing something like this.”
“Except not having certification,” Miss Lafferty pointed out.
“But you can make it happen. You know you can.”
