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“Guess I’ll never be a good dad.”
“Why do you say that?” Alexis asked.
He hadn’t really intended on getting into a discussion with Miss Richmond on this subject right now; he didn’t want her to dig too deep.
But he did need help. Only God knew how much.
He swallowed the last of his coffee and looked around to catch Tina’s eye for a refill, to no avail. Tina chatted with a customer at the far end of the counter. He couldn’t find any excuse for postponement from that direction.
“Can’t make the kid mind,” he finally said. On his side of the table he shoved his knife and fork from place to place. It was embarrassing to voice all his failures. He wasn’t used to it. “He doesn’t listen and I lose my temper. I have no patience.”
“James…”
It came softly from her lips, implying intimacy. Caught off guard, he glanced up. She held his gaze and wouldn’t let go. He felt his stomach go south.
“You don’t mind if I call you James, do you? Instead of J.D.?”
“Nah,” he mumbled. “Guess not.”
“Well, James, may I ask you a few questions?”
Amusement tugged at the corners of his mouth. Questions? She hadn’t asked permission before now. “Teachers do, don’t they?” He smiled.
“Yes, I suppose they do,” she said ruefully. “Often. Okay, since you don’t mind… Did Cliff listen to you when you and his mother were together?”
“Nope.” Now he felt worse. He hadn’t thought much about that before. “Never did, I guess. Even when he was two or three. I couldn’t… Guess I never got the hang of being a good dad.”
He’d left too much for Melanie to take care of while he worked two jobs to support them. At the time, he’d thought that enough.
“Now I don’t know what to do next,” he admitted, ashamed that he couldn’t seem to find a pathway that worked.
“Parenting is always one step at a time,” she commented. “Nobody learns it in one fell swoop. Besides, I don’t know any perfect parents. All of them make a mistake or two.”
“Yeah, but I…” His pent-up breath pained him as he let it go. “I have to admit I haven’t been around much for the boy. None at all these past years.”
“Why was that?” she asked. Her gentleness in asking the question wiped out whatever sense of intrusion he might normally have felt.
“Seemed easy enough when that’s what his mother wanted.” He shrugged. The excuses he’d used all these years no longer seemed valid, even to himself. “Didn’t see much sense in letting Cliff see us at our worst. Fighting all the time. But if I’d taken more interest, maybe Cliff wouldn’t be such a mess now.”
“James, you couldn’t have prevented all of Cliff’s problems. Even the best of parents can have children with a hyperactivity disorder or some kind of learning disability.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean…now the complete evaluation hasn’t yet been done, but I think your son has Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder—ADHD. He’s a child who simply can’t pay attention or control his impulses.”
“You mean, he’s not just spoiled?”
Alexis chuckled. “Oh, he’s a bit spoiled, all right. I suspect he’s been given his own way all too often. He does seem to think he’s entitled to indulge his every whim. But it’s not beyond repair.”
“What you’re telling me is…this isn’t all my fault?” A sudden hope sparked his thoughts. He sat straighter and leaned forward.
“Not at all. He simply needs specialized teaching. Direction for studies, specific direction for his social exchanges.”
“Specific directions?” His heart beat with an out-of-sequence ping. What she was telling him made real sense.
“Like how? What…what can I do?”
“For one thing, you can set firm, consistent boundaries for him at home, then stick to them. But…not with spanking, please. There are other disciplines to use. We’ll do the same for him at school. We’ll do our best to teach him to focus on his studies.”
“You think he’ll improve then?”
“I think there’s a one-hundred-percent probability.”
“What else?”
“I think…” She hesitated, tucking her chin in and biting her lip. “I don’t want to step over the line here, James. I’m Cliff’s teacher, not a psychologist.”
“Tell me. Please. I don’t need any of the usual professional jargon.”
“It’s only my opinion.”
“And I asked for it, Alexis.” All at once it didn’t feel at all awkward to address her by her given name. And more to the point, she didn’t seem to notice. He watched the way she pressed her lips together, the way she folded her hands in front of her, teacherlike, making up her mind to say what she honestly thought.
“Have you talked with him, yet, about the loss of his mother?”
That one surprised him. “Not more than a few words. He doesn’t seem to want to talk about it.”
Alexis thought about that a moment. “Perhaps that will come later. After he trusts you more. Meanwhile, I think Cliff is in need of lots of love.”
“Love? I love the boy.”
“Yes, I’m sure you do. But you need to show him some affection, James.”
“Affection?”
“Hugs. A pat on the back. Show that you care.”
Hugs? Cliff was nine years old. Hugging a boy child of nine seemed— Wasn’t that too old? But he could manage pats on the back, he supposed.
Tina was heading their way with their order.
“I’d bet Cliff would even still welcome a nighttime tuck-in before he sleeps,” Alexis said.
“Tuck him in?” he mumbled. “At nine?” That was really stretching it, but…
“Here you go,” Tina said, putting dishes on the table.
Alexis smiled with an encouragement that lit his heart like a Roman candle. What did he have to lose by trying her methods?
“Uh…time to eat.” He rose and strode over to the video machines. Placing a hand on his son’s shoulder, he murmured next to his ear, then nodded toward their booth. He said nothing when Cliff raced recklessly across the room.
Alexis smiled a welcome for Cliff, nodding to his pancakes. Maybe she’d suggested they have breakfast together as a way of doing her teacher thing, J.D. mused, but they’d covered more ground than just his son’s problems. She acted like a friend.
More than a friend?
An image rose in his mind of a bedtime routine. He wouldn’t mind being tucked into bed himself. If the tucker was Alexis.
It made him smile. A smile that remained as he slipped into the booth.
The quizzical glance she gave him was worth twice the price of breakfast. His smile broadened. Maybe he could get into this teacher-parent thing after all.
Chapter Five
Cliff dug into his backpack, hauling out books, grubby loose papers, a sports magazine and a package of cheese crackers, before he pulled out the envelope Alexis had sent home with him Friday night. Alexis had written a short account of Cliff’s week at school. It was only a slim margin more successful than those first few days.
He flipped it onto her desk, then ambled toward his seat.
“Thank you, Cliff,” Alexis said. A piece of popcorn tumbled from the envelope as she picked it up, making her smile. She pulled out the note. As he’d done twice before, James had responded on the back of the paper.
Funny, how eager she felt to read what had been up to now only a sentence or two.
Ah, progress felt sweet. Even this tiny bit of progress. This was a whole paragraph.
“We had a half-decent weekend,” James wrote. “Cliff came to the shop with me on Saturday. Found him unexpectedly at the top of the high ladder once, looking at the inventory on the top shelf. Followed your advice. Didn’t yell at him. Asked him to tell me what was there, then thanked him for his help. He came down when I asked him to. So far, popcorn seems to do him as a substitute snack to candy. Thanks again, Miss Richmond.”
He’d signed it with his full name.
She rubbed her thumb over the James Dean Sullivan. It summoned a mental image of that half smile and the cocky gleam shooting from his glance. Oh, my! It seemed a long week plus a weekend since their breakfast together.
Beyond that, the thought that some of her suggestions were successful for Cliff and his father was heady stuff. It warmed her heart. Alexis’s initial reaction was to sit and immediately respond. Instead, she called the class to order and began her school day.
Yet the glow from James’s note threaded her whole morning, and by afternoon she wondered if she dare invite James Dean Sullivan and his son to the spring picnic her Bible Study group had on their calendar for the next Sunday afternoon. Her study group mostly consisted of couples, but a few singles like herself attended. The picnic was to be a family affair. Kids of all ages would be there, and hopefully Cliff could find a friend. He sure needed one.
It seemed a very personal invitation.
Too personal? she asked herself.
She frowned slightly, struggling with it. Surely it would be fine. Why not? She didn’t think they ever went to church because Cliff had talked of sleeping late on Sunday. And James could only benefit by joining a Bible Study. Cliff needed the kind of love only the Lord could provide. Why wouldn’t it be okay to ask them to a worship service, then the picnic following? It was the kind thing to do.
Oh, sure, that was her reason all right, she thought in disgust. It was the kind thing to do? Who was she fooling? It still remained a personal invitation.
But was it really wise to make this so personal? It would feed the gossips.
Yet wise or not, Cliff and James needed more than they had right now. A church fellowship could only help them further cement their relationship.
It all made perfect sense to her, but still she should leave it to James, she mused. She wondered about his spiritual health. He’d said nothing about his relationship with God during their few talks. She’d already made the suggestion once to him to find a church to attend. There was a fine line between helpfulness and intrusion, she knew, and for some people, this was very private business.
Besides, they had nothing personal in common at all—no matter how sexy the guy’s grin was.
Yet an hour later, she knew she couldn’t leave it alone, either. Just before the last bell of the day, she gave in and scribbled a note of invitation for Cliff to take to James. Before she could second-guess herself, she included her home phone number.
Overstepping herself or not, it still felt right for her to help a student who needed it. And his father.
At home that night Alexis filled her evening with reading student papers and giving her tiny kitchen an extra clean. She kept her cell phone close by as she hauled two loads of laundry to the basement and completed it.
James didn’t call.
At eleven she climbed into bed, refusing to admit disappointment. Why should she? Inviting him to the church picnic had been only an impulse….
At five minutes past seven the next morning, the phone rang. This early in the day, a phone call usually meant something extra going on at school, or an emergency.
At the point of gathering her hair into a ponytail, she clasped two hair clips between her teeth and tucked the phone under her chin. “Hello,” she mumbled.
“’Lo. This is J.D.” His voice held an early-morning huskiness, which sent goose bumps skittering across her arms.
Her heart hit a bump in its rhythm. The hair clips went flying as she spat them out. “Uh, hello, James. What’s up?”
“Didn’t get your note till this morning.”
“Oh. Didn’t Cliff do his homework?”
“Uh, yeah. Sort of. Didn’t get it finished, I’m afraid. My fault. I had a shipment of parts come in that I had to take care of, so I… Sorry. Didn’t get home till nearly midnight. I didn’t have time to check it till this morning.”
“I see. Well, we’ll have to work on it during study time.”
“Okay. Thanks. About Sunday…”
“Yes?”
“We’ll come.”
Her heart bumped again, then settled down, racing only a tad. This was definitely good for Cliff. For them both. The idea of spending more time with James didn’t hover as a great chore, either.
“Great.” She was glad he couldn’t see her. See the smile she couldn’t hide. “I think you know where the church is?”
“Yeah, sure do.” His tone picked up enthusiasm. “We’ll be there on time. Should we bring something for the picnic?”
“Not this time. There’ll be enough food for an army. It’s out at the Bender farm by a creek that feeds into the lake. Cliff can bring his fishing pole if he wants to.”
There was a slight hesitation before he said, “I don’t think Cliff is into fishing, but I’ll pack a couple of rods just in case. One for you, too.”
“Uh, well, I don’t really fish.”
“Then, I’ll teach you.”
“I hate to tell you this, James, being a teacher and all—” Alexis moistened her lips “—but I don’t relish picking up live worms, much less sticking them on a hook.”
His deep chuckle tickled her ear. She had a sinking feeling she shouldn’t have told him.
