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“That doesn’t mean it won’t now,” she said. “Maybe Kitty was too young then or the counselor’s personality didn’t click with hers. If she needs help—”
Finding it difficult not to leap to his feet and pace, Jack interrupted. “She doesn’t. All she needs is more time.”
“It’s been two years since her mother’s death. If Kitty was going to recover on her own, don’t you think she would have shown more progress by now?”
“It takes as long as it takes. There’s no set timetable for grieving.” God knows, it had taken him a long time even to begin to accept Gina’s death. It wasn’t any surprise to him that it would take Kitty longer.
Ms. Walsh inhaled deeply, and Jack suspected she was counting to ten. Seeing her rein in her emotions certainly was a switch, as was the calm, well-modulated tone she used next. Had someone been coaching her? Perhaps Ms. Walsh had gone to irritation-management classes.
“Of course, there isn’t,” she said, “but sometimes people need a little help with this kind of an adjustment. The social worker here does wonderful work with grieving children. I could get Kitty in to see her early next week.”
“No.”
She blinked, then shot him a startled glance as if she couldn’t believe he wasn’t going to add a sentence of justification she could refute. Too bad. Creating and tolerating uncomfortable silences was part of his job.
“That won’t do, Mr. Granger.” Her voice gained volume with every word. “It won’t do at all. Whatever is going on with Kitty, it’s draining the sparkle and life right out of her, and it’s taking a serious toll on her schoolwork.”
Jack smiled inwardly. Whoever got angry first always lost the argument. “I’m beginning to think that maybe you don’t know as much about children as you think you do, Ms. Walsh. I’ve done everything you’ve suggested—”
She cut him off with an impatient chop of one hand. “I know you’ve tried, but it’s simply not enough. As it stands now, I can’t promote Kitty to second grade unless she develops some concentration and catches up. She’s too far behind the other children.”
“What?” Dammit, even he had a limit to the amount of aggravation he could take at one sitting. Pushing back his chair, he stood again, straightening to his full height. “You’ve never said that before and the school year’s almost over. Why did you wait so long?”
Ms. Walsh rose and tipped her head way back to meet his gaze. The top of her head didn’t even reach his shoulder, but if his height advantage bothered her, he couldn’t detect it.
“Like you, I’ve been hoping Kitty would come around,” she said. “She’s an extremely bright little girl, but she spends most of the day staring off into space and refusing to participate in class activities with the other children. She’s not retaining what she does manage to learn from one day to the next, and she needs to stay on task until she finishes her assignments.”
“You are not going to hold her back,” Jack insisted. “I’ll go to the principal, the superintendent of public instruction, or the president of the school board if I have to, but you will not hold her back.”
The look she gave him could have melted granite. “Go right ahead,” she said, mimicking his posture and his soft, deadly tone. “They’ll tell you that first grade is absolutely vital to her future academic success.”
“Give me a break. She’s only six years old.” He propped his hands on his hips. “What’s so important about the first grade that it can ruin the rest of her school career?”
“Oh, nothing much. First grade is only where they learn to read. And do simple arithmetic and a whole lot of other things that Kitty isn’t getting.”
Ms. Walsh waved one hand in front of her body as if to encompass the entire room. “It may not seem like much to you, but for the next eleven years everything she studies will build on what she’s supposed to learn here. If she doesn’t conquer the basics now, she’ll struggle through every class she ever takes. Is that what you want for her?”
For a long, excruciating moment, he remained silent, feeling ashamed of himself for taking a cheap shot at a woman who, even though she annoyed the devil out of him, obviously cared a great deal about his daughter. “Of course I don’t want that.”
Jack felt a knot of fire in the center of his chest. He stepped away from the visitor’s chair, wanting to leave and regroup before he said something he’d regret. “I’ll have to take this under advisement.” He pushed back his cuff and glanced at his watch. “I need to be home in fifteen minutes. I’ll let you know what I decide.”
“Hold it right there!” She scrambled out from behind her desk as if she had some notion of blocking his path. “We’re not finished. I need a better answer than that.”
“I said,” he said through gritted teeth, “I’ll get back to you.”
She narrowed her eyes and stuck out her chin. “When?”
“Will next week be soon enough for you?” He turned and started for the doorway.
“No, it will not.” She hurried after him. “None of this is for me, Mr. Granger. It’s for Kitty. Can’t you see that your child is suffering? And you’re just letting it go on and on. She deserves better from you than you’re giving her.”
Literally seeing red at her accusations, he came to an abrupt halt and turned back around to face her. “Do you have any children, Ms. Walsh?”
She paled, and for the first time, her gaze failed to meet his. “No, I don’t.”
He laughed, but it wasn’t a pleasant sound, even to his own ears. “Why am I not surprised? It’s always easy to criticize what you don’t understand, isn’t it.”
“I didn’t mean to insult you.” She reached out, as if she would touch his arm. He stepped back out of range and waited until she lowered her hand to her side.
“Well, you did. And let me tell you, being a parent is a lot harder than it looks to people who’ve never tried it. Before you start throwing around remarks like that, maybe you should get married and try having a kid of your own.”
Ignoring her horrified expression, he strode out of the room and down the hallway, and slammed through the school’s front doors. He desperately wanted to get in his car and drive as fast and as far away from this school, Ms. Walsh and all of Spokane, Washington, as possible, and never come back. But he couldn’t give up and run away.
Though he might be a miserable failure as a father, he was all Kitty had. And he was going to do right by her—whatever that meant.
Shading her eyes against the bright sunshine during recess the next morning, Abby Walsh watched Kitty Granger and felt an immediate, all-too-familiar tug at her heart. The little girl sat on the concrete step with her back against the school building, her skinny legs hugged tightly to her chest, her chin resting on her knees, lost in some lonely world only she could see.
Turning to her best friend, Erin Johnson, Abby asked, “Is it just me, or is that kid in serious trouble?”
Erin snorted, then stared at Abby in obvious disbelief. “Well, duh. That’s hardly normal behavior for a six-year-old.”
Abby allowed herself to relax a smidgeon. A child psychologist with a thriving practice, Erin always called things exactly the way she saw them. If Erin saw a problem, there must be one. Still, Abby couldn’t stop herself from asking for more reassurance. “You’re positive it’s not just me?”
“Your instincts are usually right on target when it comes to kids. Why doubt yourself now?”
“You’ve never met Kitty’s daddy, Granger the Grump.” Abby glanced back toward the playground, automatically counting heads. First graders were so unpredictable when they went outside, a teacher couldn’t be too careful about keeping track of them. “When I’ve talked to him about getting her into counseling, he’s always convinced me I was overreacting. I needed an expert opinion to be sure I wasn’t imagining anything.”
Erin inclined her head toward Kitty. “She should be playing, but she’s just sitting there all by herself. She’s not even watching the other kids, and she looks so sad, I can’t believe she’s not crying.”
“Do you think she’s clinically depressed?”
“It’s impossible to be sure without talking to her, which we both know I can’t do without her father’s permission,” Erin said with a grimace.
Abby gave Erin’s forearm a squeeze. “Just give me your best professional guess.”
“My best professional guess is that the poor child is depressed and probably has been since her mother died,” Erin replied. “She’s showing classic symptoms, and God knows she’s got a good reason to be depressed. At the very least, she needs an assessment.”
“Thanks.” Abby breathed a soft sigh of relief to have her own perceptions verified. “How do I convince her hardheaded father to change his mind about counseling?”
Erin shot her a wry smile. “Remember he’s a prosecutor, which means he’s probably a just-the-facts kind of a guy. Don’t get emotional when you talk to him or he’ll turn you off.”
Abby rolled her eyes toward heaven, then admitted, “Well, it’s already too late for that. I think his face would crack if he actually smiled. Every time I call him in for a conference, he acts like I’m imposing on his precious time. I’m telling you, he’s a royal pain in the—”
“This isn’t about you or grumpy Mr. Granger,” Erin interrupted. “It’s about a little girl who needs help.”
Wincing, Abby pretended to look behind Erin. “Where do you keep it?”
“Keep what?”
“That guilt cannon you just fired at me.”
Erin chuckled. “Hit the target, did I?”
“Dead center,” Abby confessed. “And you’re right. It’s about Kitty.”
“What happened with him yesterday?”
Abby shrugged, then looked away. “I lost my temper and sort of let my mouth run away without my brain.”
“You’ve got to stop doing that, Ab. How bad was it?”
Abby replayed the conversation, editing out his parting shot. Erin remained quiet, clearly allowing Abby’s words to echo in her mind.
Abby sighed when the silence stretched out, then finally said, “I really blew it, didn’t I.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“What can I do?”
“He might appreciate an apology.”
“Well, so would I.” Abby bit off an indignant huff. “I could have handled it better, but he wasn’t exactly Mr. Nice Guy, either.”
“Abby,” Erin chided. “What are you going to do for Kitty’s sake?”
“Well, I could write him a note tonight, and he’ll get it on Monday.”
“Why wait until Monday?” Erin said in a calm, infuriating manner. “That gives him a whole weekend to build up his defenses, and it’s exactly what a man like your grump would expect.”
“He’s not my grump,” Abby protested. “He’s not my anything, thank heaven. Where are you going with this?”
Erin fell silent for a moment, then said, “Do something he won’t expect. Push him off balance for once.”
“I’d rather push him off a cliff.” When Erin simply stared at her in response, Abby gave in. “All right, it’s hard to imagine him off balance, but I’ll bite. What won’t he expect?”
“You’ve always met with him at school,” Erin said. “Why don’t you invade his turf for a change?”
“What?” Abby yelped, appalled at the idea.
“It’s perfect. Show up at his house tonight with an apology and a plate of cookies as a peace offering.”
“He’ll throw me off his property.”
“Mr. Dignified, Public Servant Granger?” Erin laughed. “He will not. He’ll have to be gracious, and you’ll get a chance to see what he and Kitty are like at home. You can collect a lot of information from a home visit.”
“And you’d be happy to interpret that information for me.”
“Absolutely,” Erin agreed. “Are you willing to try it?”
Abby considered the question, wondering where she would find the courage to deal with Granger the Grump twice in one week.
“All right, I’ll do it. And this time, I’ll be absolutely logical and businesslike, if it kills me.”
Abby glanced at Kitty again. She was a beautiful child with fine, shiny black hair no ponytail holder could contain for long, sad brown eyes, an adorable little nose and a sweet bow mouth that rarely smiled. “She’s the sweetest little girl in the world, and I can’t stand seeing her look so lost and alone all the time.”
“She’s his daughter, Ab.”
Abby stiffened. “I’m not likely to forget that. But what kind of a father can’t see what’s happening to his own child?”
“Don’t be so judgmental,” Erin scolded her. “He’s probably struggling to get through one day at a time, like most other single parents. He still may be suffering with his own grief. Or he may be in denial. None of which makes him a bad father.”
Sniffing, Abby crossed her arms over her breasts. “Well, there is no way I’m going to back off and let him ruin that child.”
Erin pinned her with a stare. “I thought you weren’t going to get involved with your students anymore.”
“I’m not.”
“Then who was that warrior-woman I just heard? Mighty defender of the girl-child and all that?”
Abby turned her head away. “You imagined her.”
“If it looks like a duck and it quacks like a duck…” Erin uttered a wry laugh. “I think maybe we should reconsider the idea of your going to his house.”
“Don’t be such a worrywart.” Abby smiled and squeezed Erin’s arm again. “I’m just going to convince Mr. Granger to hire you as Kitty’s therapist. You’ll take wonderful care of her, and I’ll be able to leave Spokane knowing she’s going to be all right.”
“And you’ll stop at recommending me? You promise you won’t get any more involved with the Grangers than that?”
“It depends on Mr. Granger and Kitty.”
Erin shot her a worried look. “Abby—”
Abby let out an exasperated huff. “Trust me, there’s no danger of starting a personal relationship that could become a problem later. I’m a professional. I know what I’m doing.”
Chapter Two
Can’t you see that your child is suffering?
“No, she’s not,” Jack muttered as he drove home on Friday night. He knew about suffering from first-hand experience. Kitty had suffered the most when she’d been in therapy before, dammit, but Ms. Walsh didn’t understand that. Or maybe she just didn’t want to believe it.
Wishing he could strangle someone, he tightened his fingers around the steering wheel until his knuckles hurt. He’d gone over his meeting with Ms. Walsh in his mind a hundred times since yesterday, but her words continued to haunt him.
And you’re just letting it go on and on.
“Oh, you’re so damn smug,” he said. “You weren’t there. You don’t know what she went through.”
She deserves better from you than you’re giving her.
“Yeah, well, so what else is new? I’m doing the best I can, but it’ll never be enough. It’ll never be as good as what Gina could’ve done for her, either. And there’s not much I can do about that, is there?”
