A Christmas Prayer: An Autistic Child, a Father's Love, a Woman's Heart (Christmas Romance) (2 page)

Chapter Two

Ethan Jacobs placed his guitar against the couch and sat in the leather recliner near the fireplace. He needed privacy for this interview. He’d have to convince his faithful assistant—the wind beneath his wings—to take a day off. No easy task. “So what’s on my agenda today, Max?”

“You wanted to rest, right?” Max asked.

“Yep.”

“You have one appointment this afternoon with Alexis Jennings, a reporter from
The Daily Chronicle
. Otherwise, you’re clear. I’m a little surprised you agreed to it. You and reporters don’t tango very well.”

“Figured since this is my hometown, I should give the paper the courtesy. After all, they are spearheading the benefit. I hope they dwell on my accomplishments since sobering up rather than focus on my days as a drunk.”

Max snorted. His gut-laugh energized the most
boring of days. “Doesn’t matter if they do. You never let booze get in the way of a hit song. I wouldn’t
worry.”

He had plenty of negative press before and weathered the hailstorms that followed. The purpose of this interview, unknown to Alexis, fell into a whole different category, and he would need to guard every word. Reporters liked to dig into things, and some holes were better left empty.

Max tapped his clipboard. “I heard this Alexis gal is a Christian, so I don’t think she’ll be too difficult to deal with. Besides, bad press would only hurt the benefit, and it’s not in the paper’s best interest to go all negative.”

Max Elliot wasn’t used to the sober Ethan Jacobs
yet. No one was, even though he’d celebrate a year of sobriety on Christmas Day. Everyone still waited for him to go back to his binges. It seemed the world was fast to condemn the mighty for falling and slow to applaud when the fallen finally conquered their demons. He supposed the man with the demon called Legion had to fight the hordes of disbelievers after Jesus cleansed him.

“As you asked, I cleared your calendar for the next few weeks. But I’d like you to rethink canceling the rest of the tour. Why take up residence here, Ethan? Why not buy a ranch in Colorado or a beach house in Florida?”

Ethan kicked up the recliner, crossed his legs, and pulled his hat over his eyes. Should he clue Max in on why his employer wanted to re-roost in Jasper Falls and why he specifically requested to be interviewed by Alexis Jennings? No. He’d have to leave Max in the dark until Gib’s law guardian gave Ethan the green light.

“My rehab counselor suggested I revisit my youth and get to the core of what started me on the path to being drunk half the time. Since I’m here for the benefit, might as well stay on a little longer.”

Max shook his head in agitated disapproval. “This is not a good time to halt your career.
A Christmas Prayer
has topped the charts. We should take advantage of your heightened popularity, not slow down.”

Sometimes Max was the Eeyore to Ethan’s Pooh, helping him to see the downside to seemingly whimsical decisions. “I have other reasons, Max. Reasons I can’t discuss right now.”

Max raised his eyebrows in trusting defeat. “For your sake, I’ll simply have to defer to your counselor’s good judgment.” Max gazed out the picture window. “If you’re from this hick place, no wonder you went from baby formula to Jack Daniels. Not much action here at all.”

“Not so, Max. Might not have a fast food restaurant, but it does have a bowling alley and a music store. So, if my strings pop, I won’t have to order them online and I can see if I can beat the 256 game I rolled last week in Chicago.”

“Humph.” Max re-checked the clipboard and drummed his fingers. Slow-downs were hard on a Type-A personality.

“Since I only have the one gig, why don’t you take the day off? Go snow shoeing at the Sports Club down the road. I hear Taberg Tower has a good tubing slope.”

Max roared with laughter. “Nature’s not my thing, Ethan. Although, a day off or two would be nice. Where’s the nearest civilization?”

“You could charter a plane to Montreal. It’s about 250 miles north or you could go to Albany … only 90 miles south. Take tomorrow off, too, if you’d like. Leave the clipboard here. If something pops up, I’ll write it down for you. I do know how to take care of myself.”

“You sure?”

“Yep. Plenty of frozen dinners in the fridge and there’s always Mickey’s Diner if I get tired of packaged food. Security team is in place. I’ll be fine here alone. What could go wrong?”

Chapter Three

Sucking in her stomach, Alexis straightened her black slacks and checked the mirror one last time. If she gained any more weight she’d need a new wardrobe. Too much fried chicken and pizza—Gib’s favorites among the few foods he’d eat. Who had time to cook one meal, let alone two? His attention-deficit meds affected his appetite. Most nights, he picked at his plate like a fussy bird. Gib needed the calories; she didn’t. He also needed the meds. Without them, he literally climbed the walls, pretending to be Spiderman. Seemed like in every arena where Gib won, she lost.

She never had to worry about weight before. When she complained to the counselor, she criticized Alexis’s organizational skills. “Can’t you take off the breading and put the chicken on a salad, or maybe replace one slice of pizza with a fruit bowl?”

Yeah. She
could
.

Gib’s issues drained her creative problem solving. It took less energy to blame him than to look for solutions. True, those extra little steps might make life more tolerable. But who could remember them when living in crisis mode twenty-four hours a day?

It was so hard to know what she should make an issue and what to slough off to his peculiarities, or what she could attribute to normal growing pains as opposed to issues related to his disability. If only he came with a computer chip, some way of knowing which was which. He liked to mimic. Maybe instead of caving to his whims, if she ate more nutritiously in front of him, he might try better foods. Perhaps the counselor was right. “Gib knows how to play you to get his own way. Disabled children are often masters at manipulation. Love doesn’t conquer all where these kids are concerned.”

If her love wasn’t strong enough to keep Gib out of trouble, then God’s love had to be. She sang the first line of Ethan Jacobs’s
A Christmas Prayer
, “God of all majesty, Giver of life. Smile down on this wounded soul today.”

She waltzed into the kitchen, twirling for Jasmine’s benefit, trusting her friend to render a true assessment of her appearance. Jasmine put down the magazine she’d been reading and gave Alexis a thumbs up. “Girl, you are one fine-looking woman.” Not a day went by without Alexis giving thanks for her friendship with Jasmine. She raised her right brow and closed her left eye, scrutinizing Alexis’s ensemble as carefully as a jeweler examines a gem. Alexis readied herself for the accusation sure to follow. “I’ve never seen you primp this much for an interview. Don’t tell me you have a crush on the guy.”

“Only silly girls swoon over celebrities.” Yes, she had dressed to impress the man. But not for romantic reasons. She had a favor to ask, and if looking good did the trick, why not put on a little lipstick and mascara?

Alexis conjured an image of what Ethan Jacobs might look like sans the cowboy hat. While preparing for her article series, she had studied his CD cover much longer than curiosity dictated. His eyes haunted her: splintered beams shone through broken prisms, deep and furrowed, chocolate ovals laced with a hint of pain. Dark curly hair peeked beneath his velvety brown Stetson. He leaned on one elbow while glancing downward, a slight five o’clock shadow adding to his mystique.

Jasmine pointed to the cupboard to the right of the sink. “Still hiding the Oreos in the top back?”

Alexis nodded and threw Jasmine the key. “Gib steals anything and everything. No rhyme or reason. Last week I left the Tabasco sauce on the table and caught him mixing it in his cereal.”

Jasmine hauled out the Oreos, unlocked the refrigerator, poured herself a glass of milk, then sat at the small kitchen table. “I’m so jealous of you, getting an interview with Ethan Jacobs. As great an opportunity as a one-on-one with Prince Harry in my book.”

“Ethan Jacobs is hardly a prince. Rumor has it he’s the illegitimate son of a tribal chief and a white woman.”

“He’s the best looking man on the planet if you ask me.”

“How do you know? You’ve never met him. Anyone can look good on a CD cover.” Wouldn’t it be funny if she’d passed Ethan Jacobs on the street not even knowing she’d snubbed a famous person? “BTW … thanks for staying with Gib.”

“Does he know who you’re interviewing tonight?”

“Are you serious? He’d drive me crazy if he knew. I did tell him I’d get him a backstage pass for after the concert if he managed to stay out of trouble for a few days.”

“You never know with kids like Gib. He might surprise you.”

It was true. Gib never ceased to surprise her, but usually with outrageous behavior beyond the invention of the most creative minds. “I don’t have very many rules and he still doesn’t remember any of them, or so he says. I have them taped up on his bedroom wall like the counselor suggested. He gets a gold star for every rule he keeps. If he manages to get five stars, he gets a special reward. Hasn’t worked. Consequences are far from his mind at all times and he steals what he wants if I don’t give it to him. I wish I could relate to Gib as easily as you and Kyle do. It’s hard to be a friend when you have to be a constant enforcer. No wonder Gib hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you. I like Gib and he knows it. Why we get along so well.”

Alexis choked back her tears. She couldn’t cry now and smudge her mascara. “I do love him. The counselor doesn’t believe me. She says I resent Gib because my parents adopted him while I was in college. I don’t resent him. I do wish he’d show a little affection once in a while. He does for other people. Why won’t he smile for me like he does for you and Kyle?”

“Gib loves you, too. He just doesn’t know how to show it. Besides, you said it. He only smiles for a select few. I’ve seen him around others. He’s as detached as an unmoored rowboat. Anger is the way he chooses to relate to you. At least he relates. Better than being ignored.”

“Maybe you’re right. He’ll want to watch
Avatar
at five o’clock. Up to seeing it again?”

“Of course not. I brought my Kindle. I’ll multi-task. We’ll be fine.”

Alexis glanced toward the ceiling. “Gib’s in his room. At least he was when I checked last.”

“Sure wish I could tag along with you one of these times you see Ethan. Did you know he has a contract for a Lifetime Movie?”

“Can he act?”

“Doesn’t have to. All he needs to do is tip his hat and smile.”

“Now I know you’re exaggerating.”

“Might be more your type than you think. You’ve always liked them on the wild side.”

“Motorcycle Pete was a huge mistake and a very long time ago. I don’t know what my type is. I haven’t had a date since I came to Jasper Falls. I’m sure Ethan Jacobs is not a candidate. He is Gib’s hero, not mine.”

Jasmine chomped another Oreo. Not the least bit fair. She could chow down on a dozen or more a day and never gain a pound.

“If I didn’t love you, I’d hate you. How do you get away with eating all those calories?”

“High metabolism and low stress.”

Alexis chortled. “I used to be able to eat like you until I hit thirty and inherited a child.”

“You still look fantastic, shapely where it counts. So what if you wear a size six instead of four. Far as I’m concerned you’ve always been too skinny, even by California standards.”

Alexis took out her lipstick and reframed her mouth, then brushed another layer of mascara on her lashes.

Jasmine tapped her lips. “A little smudge on the lower. Anyway, Ethan’s music is deep. Some say spiritual. If you believe all the hype, he was a hellion in his youth and struggled with alcoholism his whole life. A binge drinker. Last year he went into rehab and found God.”

“A lot of Christians have pasts they’d sooner forget.”

“How would you know, Miss Perfect? Except for your choice in boyfriends, you are the poster child of respectability.”

Not really. A preacher’s kid gets real good at living the double life.

“Well, Jasmine, since you’re such an expert, tell me more about this Ethan Jacobs. A Christian, you say? His newest album seems to have a lot of religious songs, right up there with
Jesus Take the Wheel
I’ve heard sung by several artists. There’s another one Gib plays a lot—about a dog, I think. I fail to see a Christian message there.”

“Girl, you don’t get Country at all. The song isn’t about a dog. The title is
Man’s Best Friend.
He’s talking about God. Don’t you listen to the words?”

Alexis laughed. “I try not to.” Jasmine had a good heart, but a music critic she was not. “I better get going. The paper wants the story by midnight, in time for the morning edition. I hope the interview goes well, for Gib’s sake.”

Jasmine helped herself to another six Oreos. “Why wouldn’t it go okay?”

“Buck says Ethan Jacobs hardly ever talks to reporters. He thinks I’m lucky to get an interview.”

“If you want my opinion, I think underneath all the glamour is the heart of a very shy man.”

“Shy? With all his money?”

“Fame and money doesn’t cure a person of being shy. It merely gives the shy person more opportunities to be afraid.”

Alexis threw her poncho over her head, taking extra precaution not to rumple her do.
What do
? She hadn’t been to a salon in nine months. “I’m going straight to the newsroom after the interview. I’ll call you when I get there and let you know how it went.”

Chapter Four

Alexis chewed her lip for the last two miles. She’d interviewed many celebrities in Los Angeles. One year in Jasper Falls and she’d forgotten how to act in front of the rich and famous. Apprehension cooked like a roast in a pressure cooker until she stopped at the gate and Kyle’s brother greeted her. Tom lacked Kyle’s wit and looks as well as his sophistication. Who could be afraid of a man who’d hire the town fool to guard his gate?

“Hello, Tom. I have an interview with Mr. Jacobs at three o’clock.”

He checked his clipboard, his eyes darting up and down like a robot gone haywire. “Sorry, Alexis. Still have to ask for ID so I can check it off on the form.”

Tom approached his new job like he did his young adult Sunday School lesson—right down to the last pre-printed question. Alexis hauled out her driver’s license. “Will this do?”

“Okay.” He put a yellow tag on her rearview mirror and waved her on. When the cast iron barrier swung open, Alexis inched her Ford Fusion up the gravel driveway the quarter of a mile to the house. The wind had kicked up a few notches since she’d left the house, and white powder built steadily on the drive. Her car skidded, almost landing in a ditch. Great … all she needed was to have an accident. She sang a few bars of Handel’s
Hallelujah Chorus
when she finally pulled into the circular drive of the former Guilford Home for Wayward Boys.

Alexis yanked her press card from her purse and hung the lanyard around her neck. Ethan might not know what she looked like. Best to be easily identified. Did country singers have guns in their homes? Seemed like a lot of folks in Jasper Falls did.

She expected a servant of some sort to answer the doorbell. Instead a tall, broad shouldered, lanky man greeted her with a million-dollar smile, every tooth in perfect alignment. Hardly resembling his CD image, but she’d know his chocolate eyes anywhere.

She couldn’t resist and glanced toward his feet. Yep. Supersoft Tony Lama boots like Gib showed her on the Internet. He’d wanted her to buy them for his birthday. At $300 a pair, she told him to keep on wanting them. She found generic leather ones for $75.00 but Gib knew they weren’t Tony Lama and threw them in the trash.

Alexis continued her quick survey of the legend dressed in designer jeans and a denim shirt. His curly black locks set off dark features and a slightly unshaven look. Maybe not the
most
handsome man on the planet, as Jasmine put it. No arguing that His Handsomeness, Ethan Jacobs, definitely made a head turn —three times. “I’m ah … ah …”

“Alexis Jennings?”

“Yes.”

“Come in.”

Maybe not. Maybe she should feign an emergency and reschedule a phone interview. “Thank you.” No. She had come here for a purpose and she wouldn’t leave until her mission was accomplished, maybe get an interview in the process. Besides, it would be harder for Ethan to refuse her request on Gib’s behalf if she asked him face to face. “I’m a little surprised you answered the door yourself. I expected to go through ten more layers of security.”

“I’m not the President, Miss Jennings.”

“You may call me Alexis.”

“Alexis … pretty name by the way. As I said, I’m not the President. I like to keep things simple. My manager, Max, insisted on the gate security. The perimeter has oodles of cameras and besides, nothing exciting ever happens in Jasper Falls. Am I right?”

“Only been here a little over a year. I wouldn’t know. This fall, hikers spotted a couple of bears at Big Moose Lake.”

“Not so unusual, really, if I recall. When I was fifteen, we had a pack of wolves tear up a fellow’s herd of sheep. Lot of nature around here. Follow me. I thought we’d hold the interview in my den. Okay?”

Alexis nodded as she followed Ethan through the long maze of historic rooms. Alexis thought she heard the ghosts of history whisper to her through the echoes of their steps. A fire crackled in the fireplace, bringing back memories of yesterday’s fiasco.

“Tea, coffee?”

“Please, don’t go to any bother.”

He led the way into the kitchen.

Alexis craned her neck like a kid in a museum. “Interesting house. A town landmark, I understand. A reformatory back in the day before the diocese turned it into a lodge for priestly retreats. What made you choose this place to rent?”

“I suppose life was as hectic for yesterday’s millionaires as it is today. Funny isn’t it? The more we own, the more we need to get away from it. No matter how advanced we become, we still yearn to come back to the basics: nature and God. I made a purchase offer, matter of fact. Nothing final, yet. That’s an exclusive, Miss Jennings.”

Ethan poured the water into the reservoir, put four heaping tablespoons into the filter and hit start. Within seconds, the kitchen filled with aromatic delight.

“So you’re buying this place to get back to nature?”

“I enjoy simple things like the sound of rain on the rooftop and blowing dandelions to the wind. Ever make a snow angel, Alexis?”

“No. My parents and I lived in Florida until I finished high school. They moved to Jasper Falls while I was in college and I moved to LA after I graduated. I visited on holidays, never for very long. So I haven’t been around snow much until I moved here.”

“Pity you’ve never made them. Follow me.”

How much following would she have to do? This was a huge house. Ethan led the way to a back door. “I think there’s enough fresh snow.”

He stepped outside and Alexis fell into step as commanded. She didn’t expect he’d push her, albeit gently. She landed on her back, and Ethan plopped next to her. “Like this.” He waved his arms up and down. “Your turn.”

If necessary, she’d make an igloo to amuse His Highness. She supposed even Queen Elizabeth had her peculiar pastimes. Alexis had to admit the silliness appealed to her inner child, too long neglected. She unsuccessfully resisted the giggle wanting to explode. “This
is
fun.”

“See?
Simple Things
. The name of the song I’m working on now.”

“When will it be out?”

“Soon. Would you like to hear what I have so far?”

“A preview? You bet.”

He led her back inside into the den. Her wet, red satin blouse clung to her skin. Ethan picked up his guitar. His upper torso moved in harmony with the rhythm. Raised on classical music, for her, country’s appeal escaped logic. What magic made her feet tap to Ethan’s melodic baritone?

“Have you ever walked a mountain trail upon the virgin snow or watched a sunset from a craggy mound …”

The words spoke of nature and the beauty of God’s earth.

“Do you ever pray while you walk, Alexis?”

“I don’t have time to take strolls. I take care of my—”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“Max checked up on you before agreeing to the interview. I know you’re taking care of your kid brother. I applaud you.”

“Look, Mr. Jacobs—”

“Ethan.”

“Ethan.” Why did his smile compete with the glory of heaven? “My personal life is not why I’m here.”

“It isn’t?”

This man knew far too much about her. “Kyle?”

“Yes … he’s already asked me if I’d meet with your little brother. Gib’s his name, I believe? I figured since you were coming today, we could talk about it after the interview.”

Alexis shivered. Ethan didn’t bother to ask. He retrieved a hand-woven blanket, Navaho design, and wrapped it over her shoulders. She took out her iPad to take notes. “Okay to begin?”

She shivered again.

“You’re more soaked than a cat after a bath. I should have realized how thin your blouse was before I pushed you into the snow. I can at least get you a dry shirt to put on. Help yourself to some coffee while I go get one of Max’s. Cups are in the cupboard on the left.”

She followed Ethan back into the kitchen until he disappeared up a flight of steps.

She enjoyed tagging behind him, and her own song popped into her head …

I’ve only just met you, yet I’ll follow you anywhere …

Oh … good grief!

Like … he’s got a hundred girlfriends and you’ve got zilch time for  romance, Alexis.

She took down two cups and filled them to the brim, wrapping her hands around the white porcelain mug. Simple dishes too?

Ethan returned holding out a man’s white Oxford shirt, neatly starched.

“Oh … I thought Max was short for Maxine … a girlfriend maybe.”

“No. Max is my manager. He travels with me a
lot. We only fight like we’re a couple. I gave him a few days off. Man doesn’t know how to kick up his feet and relax. Makes me nervous the way he paces around looking for things to do.” Ethan pointed toward a hallway off the kitchen. “There’s a bathroom at the end of the hall where you can change.”

“Your coffee’s poured. I didn’t know what you’d like in it.”

“Black. Like I said—”

“Simple things.”

He clicked his tongue and winked.

She held up the shirt. “I’ll be right back.”

* * *

Alexis pranced down the hall like an unsettled mare. She was not as Ethan expected. When he first learned about Gib’s legal problems, he blamed her, assuming she’d been too interested in her career and not focused enough on the kid. How else could he set fires in his own house under the nose of his sister? The private detective’s subsequent reports both positive and negative only confused Ethan as to her real motivations. Had he misjudged her? Facts alone never painted the whole picture.

Should he come clean with Alexis? Didn’t she deserve to know Ethan Jacobs was more than Gib’s hero?

At the law guardian’s suggestion, Ethan observed Gib while he spoke with his counselor. Then and there, Ethan knew beyond any doubt the plan God had put before him was the right one. Only a few in Family Court knew Ethan’s relationship to Gib. Yet, only God knew Gib was the inspiration behind
A Christmas Prayer
.
Though intellectually he accepted the court’s mandate
for secrecy, Ethan’s heart ached to announce that Gib Jennings was Ethan Jacobs’s son. When Alexis came back, he’d defy the order and tell her the truth. As a reporter, she’d understand the need for confidentiality and the reasons Gib could not yet be told.

His cell chimed. Jan MacKendrick, the Law Guardian. “Ethan Jacobs here.”

“Mr. Jacobs. Did you know there’s been another incident?”

“When?”

“Yesterday. This time the shed burned. The juvenile officer suspects the fire was an accident rather than caregiver negligence. However, the fact that it occurred supports his assessment. Gib is unsafe in his current environment. I think we’ll need to move up Gib’s probation hearing for this week. I’ll request that all petitions involving Gib be heard at the same time. It’s my opinion that Gib needs 24/7 supervision, a demand his caretaker is unable to meet. If you are willing to pay for in-home services, we can avoid institutionalization.”

“Whatever Gib needs.”

“The only opening in the court calendar is Thursday morning, same day as the benefit. Your presence is critical.”

“I’ll make it a priority. How much does Miss Jennings know?”

“Her lawyer will call her. We’re hopeful for a settlement so we won’t have to go to trial. Rather than bore you with a lot of legal jargon, we’ll recommend custody with Social Services and physical placement with you, at least for now. The counselor also recommends intensive therapy to help you and Gib establish a bond before you tell him you’re his father. It could be too traumatic at this juncture.”

Ethan tried to put himself in Alexis’s place. He remembered how everyone in Jasper Falls blamed his mother for his delinquency. Parents always received society’s first pointed finger, condemnation easier to dispense than compassion. Perhaps he should try looking at the positives. It was possible Alexis had pure motives for all her sacrifice. Shouldn’t he be grateful instead of suspicious?

“I understand.”

Ethan didn’t understand fully, instead giving the expected response. Seemed to him honesty was still the best policy. Yet, for Gib’s sake, he’d play the government’s game.

“One other matter, Mr. Jacobs. We’ve located
Gib’s birth mother as you requested. Nancy Morgan
is at the Bedford Hills Correctional Facility. Since she terminated her parental rights when she gave Gib up for adoption, she has no say in this case. I’ll call you tomorrow with confirmation of the hearing and time.”

“I appreciate your help.”

“I’m not doing this for your sake, Mr. Jacobs. I represent the best interests of the child. Clearly, Gib cannot stay where he is. So it’s either a residential facility or placement with you. Instinct tells me Gib might do very well with you.”

* * *

Alexis stuffed the soaked silk blouse into her bag, smoothed the wrinkles from the Oxford shirt, then retraced her steps back to the den. She took out her tape recorder as Ethan Jacobs stashed his cell in his pants pocket, his gaze seemingly far away.

“Anything wrong?”

She recognized the stare, one emanating from a secret just beneath the surface that the bearer so desperately wanted to share. What closet door did Ethan Jacobs want Alexis Jennings to open?

“No, nothing’s wrong. Since your brother is a huge fan, I’d like to take you and Gib to dinner tomorrow night?”

“And my friend, Jasmine? She adores you.”

“And your friend, Jasmine, if she’d like.”

“Gib will only eat fried chicken or pizza.”

“My favorites.”

“We haven’t done the interview yet.”

“Let’s do it.”

“I already have your press kit with your bio, etc. so I’ll start with some of the lesser known human interest tidbits. Is it true you are the illegitimate son of an Onondaga Chief?”

Ethan’s snide laugh surprised her. “My mother was white. As to my father’s ethnicity, I don’t really
know. My mother said he was part Native American, but he was not a chief in the tribal sense.”

Ethan walked over to the fireplace and picked up a small wooden flute. “This was the only gift I ever received from my father before he died. Chief was his nickname. He worked with casino organizers.”

Mob connection?

“My mother said his absence was for our protection. I rebelled and sowed my wild oats, eventually heading as far away from Jasper Falls as I could.”

“There are also rumors of recent large financial contributions to the Gideon Foundation, much of those earmarked specifically for the center here in Jasper Falls. If you don’t mind my asking, why are you so generous to a town you despised?”

Ethan turned, his face taut with sincerity. “I became very good at stealing until I got caught six months before high school graduation.”