Lois Richer - Twice Upon a Time

It was as lovely as he remembered. Loose, flowing to her shoulders in a swath of blended honey and amber, it glistened with a hint of orange—no, cinnamon—enhancing the flawless perfection of her face.

“I like your hair,” he blurted out.

“Oh. Well. Thank you.” Olivia’s smile faltered as she lifted a hand to brush the long spiky bangs off her forehead.

Idiot!

Reese chided himself for embarrassing her as he climbed out of his car. Too bad he hadn’t concentrated on what he intended to say instead of her hair.

“So. Should we risk it and go inside?”

Her lighthearted comment killed his tension.

“Yes.” Reese locked his car then began telling the history of Byways. “An elderly man used to live here, a grouch who put up a big fence around the place to keep the neighborhood kids out. But his yard was the perfect place to play catch and the kids always found a way in. He began sitting at the window, watching them play. The laughter and voices cheered him up and he soon looked forward to their coming.”

“Charming, but is it true?”

“Oh, yes. So Mr. Mung changed from the old grouch he’d been. But suddenly the kids stopped coming. He couldn’t figure out why, but he knew he wanted them to come back. He missed the way they made him feel younger.”

“Why did they stop?” She matched her step to his.

“Some do-gooder built them a softball field.” Reese chuckled at her droll look. “Mung figured that if he took his broken fence down, the kids might come back. He was trying to remove it when one of the kids passed, a punk who had been troubling the neighborhood for years. They argued. Short version is Mung had a heart attack, the kid got him to hospital and while Mung was away, the kid and his punk friends took down the wrecked fence, mowed the yard and started meeting on the front lawn.”

“Nice.”

“They say guilt is a great motivator. Anyway, when he came home, Mung couldn’t keep up the yard without help. The kid noticed, got his friends to pitch in and pretty soon Mung’s place became their drop-in center. The kids began to tell him their stories and Mung showed them a new perspective. When he couldn’t help, he conned his neighbor, a counselor, into stopping by. The word spread.”

Reese paused to catch his breath, but Olivia was way ahead of him.

“So Mung left the kid the house, the kid called it Byways and found funding to keep it running as a youth center.” Olivia slid her fingers over the worn sign that sat at the bottom of the stairs. “That kid was you. I do love a happy ending.”

Reese studied her more intensely.

“You’ve been doing your homework, Miss Hastings.”

“I like to know what I’m getting into, Mr. Woodward.” She tossed him a cheeky grin then skipped up the stairs.

“And?” Reese followed, wondering where this was leading.

“I’ve done some checking. Byways has a great reputation as a safe place where kids can come to have fun, share and, with a little help, figure themselves out. So far I’m quite intrigued by this place.”

“Intrigued is good.” Reese followed her inside, trying to quell his fervent hope that she’d agree to take on the directorship and give him, its chairman, a breather.

A tall, lean man met them in the foyer.

“Olivia Hastings, this is Nelson Kirsch, Emily’s brother. Nelson is our activities director. Nelson, Miss Hastings is considering joining Byways.”

“Joining as what?” Nelson lifted one eyebrow in his inimitably imperious way.

Irritation pricked Reese at Nelson’s snarky tone, though he knew the reason for it. Nelson wanted to be offered the job as director, though he didn’t have the necessary credentials. But before Reese could say anything, Olivia thrust out her hand.

“As whatever I can be to help, Mr. Kirsch.” She waited for him shake. “I hope that won’t be a problem.”

“That remains to be seen, Miss Hastings.” Nelson shook her hand once, then quickly dropped it. “Excuse me. I’m putting the last few details in place for a day trip.”

“Certainly.” Olivia stepped back to allow him to pass. When he’d disappeared, she glanced at Reese. “The temperature seems to have dropped.”

“That’s just Nelson.”

“You mean he thaws out?”

“Truthfully? Not really. Ah, here’s Emily. Hi, Em.” Reese hugged her thin shoulders and frowned when she immediately tensed, then slipped away. “You okay?”

“Sure. How are the twins? Did Brett get sick from that dunking?”

“His sickness came on after he found out their punishment was to peel potatoes for a week.” Reese winked at Olivia. “Brett isn’t fond of the job and he gets testy when Brady outdoes him with the plastic peelers I bought. Peeling potatoes keeps them busy and gives both of them time to think about the error of their ways.”

“Potatoes.” Olivia chuckled. “That’s creative.”

“Mr. Woodward has lots of ideas.” Emily threw him a cheeky grin. “We mess up his house real bad sometimes when I look after the kids. He usually tricks me into helping clean up. But he never gets mad at me.”

“Do other people get mad at you, Emily?” Olivia asked softly. Something wasn’t quite right with Emily. She could sense it.

“Sometimes.” Emily cast a worried look over one shoulder. “I gotta go. We’re going fishing.”

“Don’t eat the worms if you don’t catch anything.”

“Yuck. That’d be a Brady thing.” She slipped out from under Reese’s hand as he tried to ruffle her hair and raced away, giggling.

“She’s the nicest kid and she’s great with the twins.”

“I can hear a ‘but’ in there.”

“I don’t know how to say it. Lately I sense she’s afraid of me. Maybe it’s because I’m so much bigger than her.” He caught Olivia staring at him. “You’re the child psychologist. What do you think?”

“Maybe you’re right.” Olivia’s noncommittal answer left a lot to be desired. She glanced around. “How often do they go on field trips?”

“Almost every day in the summer. Nelson has a schedule of things for them to do. I’m not sure why they need to go out all the time, but Nelson seems to feel it’s best and the kids do gain exposure to a lot of activities that they’d miss if they stayed here.”

“I hear another ‘but.’”

“It’s a nightmare getting all the permission slips accounted for. But I won’t risk a lawsuit.”

“Very wise. They guarantee no parent can claim ignorance.”

“That’s the plan.” Reese led her through the building.

“Not much actually happens here in the center now, though, does it?” Olivia studied the gym area that had become more of a storage room. “That’s too bad. It looks like your funding is pretty solid. I’ve seen colleges with less equipment than this place.”

“We have corporate support and a couple of bequests we can tap into for repair or to replace, if necessary. Nelson has about six staff.” He looked around, shrugged. “We have at least two on the premises at all times when we’re open.”

“Smart. But what does the staff do? If there are no events held here, I mean.”

“I’m not sure,” he admitted, “but Nelson keeps them busy. We used to have lots of things happening at Byways, but not recently. That’s something I hope a new director might change.”

“Because?”

“As a board, we feel Byways should be the center of activity and not simply a place to catch a bus. Activities are nice, but run properly we could offer more. I feel our staff is under-utilized in the current situation. We have good people who just need some direction and fresh vision.” Reese told himself it was okay to feel a little proud of what he’d helped accomplish. “I think our salaries are pretty competitive, too.”