Angel of Redemption (75 page)

“I don’t know what he feels. I know he cares
about me. And sometimes I think I see something more
—feel
something more—coming from him, but I don’t know if it’s really there, or
if I’m imagining things because I want him to love me back.

Karen sits quietly for a moment. “You want to
know if I think you should tell him?”

I nod. “Yes, please.”

“I think you should tell him,” she says simply.

“But what if he freaks out?”

“What if he does?

“I told him I wouldn’t push him.”

“You’re not pushing him. You’re telling him how
you feel. Relationships are give-and-take, Kayla. I absolutely agree that you
should be sensitive to his needs, but he should be sensitive to yours as well.
Don’t sell yourself short, honey. If he runs, he isn’t right for you. Never,
ever sacrifice yourself for someone who’s unwilling to do the same.” She takes
a deep breath. “All that being said, he deserves to know. Maybe he’s just
waiting for you to say it first.”

I let out a snort. Doubtful, but maybe. “You
know, I never realized you were so smart,” I tease. “If I’d listened to you
when I was younger, I could have saved myself a lot of heartache.”

“Yes, well, live and learn. I learned a lot with
Andy. I learned even more with you. It’s just too bad there were no more little
people that could benefit from my infinite child-rearing wisdom.”

“Why didn’t you have any more? Kids, I mean.”

“Hmmm. I always wanted to, but circumstances
…
Well, by the time I met your father, I couldn’t have any more. I trust God knew
what he was doing. I’m hoping I’ll get to spoil that little baby Claire has
coming, and eventually I’ll get some grandbabies out of you and Andy, right?”

“Ha! I don’t know about me, but I’m pretty sure
Andy wants half a dozen.”

“Why not you?” she protested.

I shrug lightly. “I’ve never really thought about
it seriously
,” I say, trying not to think about having babies with Dean.
“Besides, I’m going to have my hands full with Claire and the baby…and Logan.”

“He can’t be that bad if Claire loves him. She’s
a good girl, Kayla.”

“I know she is. And
…he’s not. I love
Logan, but he’s too freaking cocky. He thinks he can do anything without consequences,
and obviously he was wrong. I’m being taken off Matty’s case because of Logan’s
actions. I haven’t told him yet. He’s had so much loss in his life. I’m afraid
that when I do, he’s going to lose it.”

“How old is Matty?” Karen asks, squinting.

“Fourteen,” I answe
r. “Too young to be on
his own and too old for most foster families to take a serious interest in.”

“That’s really sad,” Karen says softly.

“
Yeah,” I agree. “I know.”

Kayla

The next day, Dean still
occasionally seems lost in thought. But he jokes around with Claire, and when
Andy gets home just before noon, they sit in the sun and have a beer while
Claire and I pick weeds in the backyard. When he has to get back to Wyatt
House, I walk him to his car and he kisses me good-bye, promising to bring me a
coffee tomorrow.

After he’s gone, I lay down on the grass next to
Claire. We start talking about school tomorrow and she frowns.

“I don’t have any clothes.”

She’s right
—she’s been living in my
yoga or pajama pants and T-shirts for the last several days. Fortunately, for
the last week of school, they’re allowed to wear street clothes, so I don’t
have to worry about getting a uniform for five days. I have no idea what I’m
going to do for the fall. I’m pretty sure they don’t make maternity school
uniforms.

I take her shopping at the mall and we get her
some clothes that will work. They’re not designer or anything, but they’re
nice. She has a mini-meltdown when her normal size is a little tight and I
recommend she buy a size up, mentioning that she isn’t getting smaller anytime
soon. She doesn’t appreciate my honesty.

“Everyone’s going to know,” she whines as she
gazes at herself in the mirror.

“Claire, blousy shirts are in. No one’s gonna
know. You look fantastic,” I assure. It takes me over half an hour to convince
her, but eventually she agrees that, other than a few extra pounds, she really
isn’t showing.

*
* *

Come Monday morning, I’m hit full force
with the situation at hand. The second I get to work after dropping Claire off
at school, Kate pulls me into her office.

“You need to be in Fallon’s office at eleven o’clock.”

“Why? What did I do?”

“Richard Graeme called him Friday afternoon. He
made some very nasty accusations about you.”

“Like what?” I scoff.

“He said you encouraged the relationship between
Logan and your sister. That you used your position of power to influence them
and that you assisted them in lying and sneaking around.”

“That’s ridiculous. I was pissed off beyond
belief when I found out.”

“I know that, and I explained it to Fallon.”

“What else?”

“He also raised the ethical issues of your
relationship with Dean.”

“There are no ethical issues,” I almost yell. “I
knew he was going to pull this shit. Motherfu
—” I hold back my
language, but barely.

“Kayla,” Kate sighs. “Fallon was a worker and a
supervisor before he was director. He knows what lengths people will go to when
they’re worried about having their children taken away. Richard Graeme is
trying to save face, make you look like the bad guy.”

“This is such a pain in the ass,” I growl.

“I know, but try not to worry about it. Is Logan’s
case ready to be closed?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Write up the report and send it over to
Andy. Ask him to get the case on the docket as soon as possible. Matty’s case
is already officially Dana’s. We’ve done what needed to be done, and we’ve done
it by the book.”

At ten forty-five, I’m standing in front of
Dominic Fallon’s office. I’m afraid to knock. I shouldn’t be
—I
haven’t done anything wrong—but I haven’t had many run-ins with our director.
He deals with much bigger issues—whole agency issues. But I guess when a
world-class surgeon with an expensive, high-powered attorney calls him
directly, he has no choice other than to get involved.

I finally rap my knuckles on the door and hear
him say “come in.” Fallon is one of those guys who, if he didn’t look so mean,
would be the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. He’s about six foot four with
olive skin and thick, dark hair. There are a few streaks of gray here and there
that betray his age. Whenever I see him, he always appears very stern and
domineering. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him smile.

He looks up as I walk in, and his trademark scowl
greets me. My heart speeds up anxiously.

“Ms. Brooks. Please sit down.”

I do as I’m told, feeling like a little girl. It
sucks. I’m not a little girl. I’m a strong, independent, hardworking woman. I
take a deep breath and straighten myself up. I haven’t done anything wrong.

“I’m going to make this short and sweet. I am
irritated that I had to endure Mr. Richard Graeme screaming at me for an hour
on Friday afternoon about how inappropriate you’ve been with your caseload and,
apparently, your placements.” I bite down on the inside of my cheek to keep
from belting out my defense. “That being said,” he continues, “I’ve spoken with
your supervisor and she filled me in on the situation. She insists that you had
no knowledge of the relationship between Logan Davidson and Mr. Graeme’s
daughter, who just happens to be your sister. She also explained that once you
found out about it, you approached her and did what was necessary to make sure
there was no conflict of interest.” I nod, but don’t speak. “I also understand
that family issues have resulted in Mr. Graeme’s daughter being removed from
his care and placed in yours. So although I take every accusation seriously, I’m
not inclined to make any rash disciplinary decisions right now.”

“Thank you,” I say quietly.

“And as for your relationship with Mr. Wyatt, I
don’t really care what you do in your personal life. That’s not any of my
concern. Joe Wyatt happens to be a friend of mine, and I spoke to him this
weekend. He assures me that there has been no impropriety.” I press my lips
together, trying not to smile. I could fucking kiss Joe right now. “So, I have
all the information I need?”

“Yes, sir, you do.”

He stares at me for a minute. “Good. I’ll deal
with any further complaints from Mr. Graeme.”

I stand up when he stops talking. “Thank you, Mr.
Fallon. I appreciate your support.”

He nods. “Kate tells me you’re a very thorough
caseworker, Ms. Brooks. It’s not the first time I’ve heard it. I’ve had
lawyers, agencies, and foster parents tell me the same thing. You’re also
well-respected amongst your coworkers.”

This time, I don’t hide my grin. I think I might
even see his lips twitch before he lowers his head to return to whatever he was
doing before our meeting.

I make my way back to my office, giving Kate a thumbs-up
on my way. I don’t have any visits planned until later in the afternoon, so I
can relax for awhile. Around one, I get a phone call from Xavier at the front
desk.

“Kayla, you have a visitor.”

“Thank you.” I smile. A little bit of Dean is
exactly what I need. Sara laughs at me as I jump up and run out the door. When
I get to the front, I stop in my tracks and my heart flutters happily. He
’s
standing against the wall, ankles crossed, coffee in hand. He’s wearing a pair
of loose-fitting jeans slung low on his hips and a black T-shirt that puts his
tats on full display. His knit hat is on his head. I almost swallow my tongue.
I kind of like that he makes me feel like a lovesick teenager.

He grins when he spots me. After handing off the
coffees, he empties his pockets for the metal detector and comes through.

“Which one’s mine?” I ask, finding my voice. He
takes one of the cups from me and ghosts his hand over the small of my back.

“This one. Hi.” He winks, and I melt because I
love him
—and he knows it.

“Hi.”

“Mita sends her love.”

I smile. “Come on back.”

We weave through the hallway. Dean is close, his
fingers just barely touching mine. A few of the other women around the building
stare wide-eyed as we walk past them. Yeah, he looks that good. And he’s mine.

I take him back to my office. Sara and Warren
greet him enthusiastically. I introduce him to Dana, who freaking blushes when
he smiles at her. Kate comes in to say hello and introduce herself. She’s had
several
workers with kids at Wyatt House in her career, but has never
met Dean, Aiden, or Joe.

A few unexpected people stop by, too
—just
to say hello or ask a completely useless question. I snort when someone I
barely recognize and have never spoken to asks if we’ve noticed that the
sandwich cart prices have gone up.

“Must have something to do with the quality of the
meat,” Warren quips with a sarcastic smile, making us all giggle.

We drink our coffee and chat, but as it gets
closer to the time kids get out of school, everyone starts packing up to head
out to visits.

“I had to talk to Fallon this morning,” I tell Dean
as I’m walking him out. “I didn’t realize your dad knew him.”

“Yeah. I talked to my dad earlier today. He said
he got a call over the weekend. He cleared it all up, right?”

I nod. “Yes, he did. I owe him big time.”

Dean chuckles. “No, you don’t.” He brushes my
cheek with the back of his hand. “We’re not doing anything wrong, sweetheart.”

“I know,” I agree. “Are you working tonight?”

“Yeah. Tonight and tomorrow night, but I’m off
nights Wednesday through Monday.”

“Well, that’s nice. Are you staying with me?”

Dean frowns. “If that’s okay.”

“Of course it is,” I rush out. “I just wasn’t
sure. I mean, with Claire being there. You have your own quiet apartment, and I
just wasn’t sure if you wanted to
…”

He silences me with a kiss. “I want to. That
apartment
… There’s nothing there for me. And I’ve been thinking. I want
to talk to you about that.”

“Okay,” I answer nervously.
“About what
exactly?”

“Um, not right now. I have an appointment this
afternoon.”

“Oh.”

“With a therapist.”

“Ohhhhh. Uh
…I didn’t know.”

“Well, I just called this morning and he had an
appointment open today, so it was a last-minute thing. I have things I want to
tell you, but I don’t know how and…I’m hoping he can help me. So that I don’t
fuck things up.”

“O
okay.”

His tense expression fades and he smiles. “Don’t
worry about it. You’ve got too much going on as it is. Let me deal with a few
things and then we’ll
…uh…whatever.”

“You have such a way with words,” I tease, trying
not to show him how anxious he’s made me.

“Yeah, well, that’s the problem.” He kisses me
again. “I’ll call you later.”

I watch him go. A therapist. He’s seeing a
therapist. I’m nervous about what he wants to talk about, but also
excited. I smile. He doesn’t have to tell me how he feels. I already know.