For the Children

“I’m guessing, however, that you didn’t have problems with low self-esteem.”

“Every kid experiences some of that.”

“The normal bouts, yes. Brian’s bout isn’t normal.”

“The only way he’ll ever play on my team is if he comes out to practice and shows me he can keep up. Yesterday he couldn’t.”

“If Brian doesn’t play, Blake won’t, either.”

“What?” He turned, frowning, his eyes filled with such intensity she was shocked. There was a lot more going on inside this man than the world saw. “You’d actually hold Blake back, punish him, because his brother has problems?”

“Of course not…”

His eyes cleared. And that mattered to her.

“Blake made that decision.”

“And you’re going to let him?”

“You obviously don’t understand twins, Mr. Chandler,” she said, suddenly weary. So often it felt like life was Valerie and her boys against the world. Trying to find their own place…

“What’s to understand? They’re two kids with the same birthday.”

If she had more time, she’d tell him how wrong that was. She’d tell him how, when the boys were little, one would always know when the other didn’t feel well. When Blake had the flu, Brian—at three years old—refused to leave the room and sat quietly beside his brother, eating only the soup that Blake ate, until his brother was better. She’d explain how the boys knew what the other was thinking, completing sentences and thoughts for each other as naturally as if they were their own.

She’d tell him, but she had a feeling he still wouldn’t get it. Kirk Chandler was turning out to be an irritating man.

“My boys do everything together,” she said now. “They’ve been in the same classes every year, they play the same sports, they have the same friends. I’ve got nothing to do with this. It’s a natural outgrowth of the bond they share. And,” she said with emphasis when he took a breath as though he was planning to interrupt with more of his unfounded opinions, “it’s been a gift, giving them the strength and security to weather whatever challenges come along. Including the death of their father.”

“And that’s why Brian is borderline anorexic, because of all this strength and security.”

It wasn’t a question.

And Valerie didn’t have any more time. She had to get back to Mesa for her afternoon calendar.

“The boys are coming to practice today,” she told him, “but don’t expect to see them tomorrow.”

“The choice is yours,” he told her again. “But, for both their sakes, I wish you’d reconsider.”

“And I wish you would,” she told him, then turned and walked away, leaving him standing there staring out over an empty playground.

An unusual man, a poorly paid servant with a mind of his own and a will of iron.

A man who apparently had the power to ruin her son’s life.

And an open spot on his basketball team.

Open spot being the operative words, Valerie reminded herself as she climbed in her Mercedes, put it in gear and accelerated, turning out of the lot.

She’d take care of this somehow. She always did.

CHAPTER FOUR

AT HIS CORN

ER early as usual the next morning, the day before Halloween, Kirk sipped from a paper cup of coffee and enjoyed the quiet. He had another fifteen minutes before he needed to don the orange vest and take up his sign.

The air was a little chilly, not that he minded. By midmorning, he’d be rolling up the sleeves of his flannel shirt. A lone car pulled up. Stopped. Moved on. Kirk enjoyed these stolen everyday moments. Somehow they never failed to instill a sense of peace in him, along with the assurance that he was on the right course.