Metsy Hingle - Seduced

“Whatever,” Mrs. Green said. “All I know is that it gave me goose bumps.”

Pulling his attention back to Mrs. Green, Michael half listened as the woman droned on. He’d heard a similar tale last week when Summer had brought the talisman to school.

Frustrated, Michael wanted to demand once again that Summer be transferred to another class. But any such demand was pointless. Frances Green was the only religion teacher for the third grade. And if he wanted Summer to remain at Saint Margaret’s—and he did—she had to take the class.

“As I’ve explained to Sister Mary Grace, I have nothing against your niece, Mr. Grayson. But these disruptions she’s causing are affecting the other students.”

“I’ll speak to Summer, Mrs. Green. You have my word, it won’t happen again,” he assured her, biting back his frustration for Summer’s sake.

“Thank you, Frances,” Sister Mary Grace said. “You can return to your students now.”

The birdlike woman stood primly. “Thank you, Sister. Amanda.” She inclined her head toward him. “Mr. Grayson.”

Michael nodded, still too irritated by the woman’s lack of empathy to even speak. Didn’t she realize what Summer had been through? The death of her mother? The adjustments she had had to make? He swallowed. Hell, he still hadn’t gotten over the loss of his sister. And he wasn’t a vulnerable seven-year-old. He glared at the teacher’s retreating back.

“Don’t be too hard on Frances,” Sister Mary Grace said after the woman had left the room. “She really is an excellent teacher, and she cares about her students.”

“I’m sure you’d be a better judge of that than I would, Sister. At any rate, I’m sorry about what happened today. It’s my fault for allowing Summer to continue the meditation at home. Obviously that was a mistake. One that I intend to rectify.”

Amanda looked at Sister Mary Grace, then back at Michael. “Forgive me, Mr. Grayson. I realize this isn’t any of my concern, but given Summer’s background, do you think it’s wise to discourage her from meditating?”

“You’re right, Miss Bennett. It isn’t any of your concern.”

He heard the nun draw in a sharp breath and Michael realized he’d gone too far. But before he could apologize, Amanda was shooting back.

“That may be, but considering all that she’s been through and the adjustments she’s having to make, your taking a hard line on her meditation now could prove damaging.”

“You seem to know a great deal about my niece, Miss Bennett,” he said, suspicious.

“She and I spent some time together after this morning’s incident. We talked for a while.”

“I see,” he said in a voice that was deliberately calm. He didn’t like the idea of Summer being questioned by anyone, particularly about her background. Questions had a way of leading to more questions. And some questions were best left unanswered. “And based on a few minutes of conversation, you think you’re in a better position to judge what’s right for my niece than I am?”

She didn’t so much as twitch an eyebrow. “Perhaps I am. Perhaps not. But then, I hardly think six weeks as a guardian constitutes your being an authority.”

Michael frowned, wondering once more exactly who Amanda Bennett was and why she was so interested in his niece. “Obviously, Summer wasn’t the only one who confided in you.” He glanced over at the silent nun.

Before Sister Mary Grace could speak, Amanda rushed on. “I assure you, Sister only spoke to me out of concern for your niece.”

“Listen, Miss Bennett, I don’t—”

“Actually, it’s Dr. Bennett,” Amanda informed him.

Michael narrowed his eyes. “Doctor?”

“Amanda’s a child psychologist,” Sister Mary Grace explained. “She works with some of the children here at the school. Naturally, I called her when Frances told me what had happened.”

“I didn’t realize Saint Margaret’s employed a child psychologist on its staff,” Michael said, making no attempt to keep the coldness from his voice.

“It doesn’t,” Amanda countered.

“Heavens, no,” Sister Mary Grace added. “Saint Margaret’s could never afford to pay for Amanda’s services. We’re simply grateful that she’s willing to give us a few afternoons each week.”

“That’s very admirable of you, Dr. Bennett.”

“Not at all,” she returned in equally cool tones. “Since I’m not yet licensed to practice in Louisiana, volunteering at Saint Margaret’s allows me to keep my feet wet while I study for the state exam. Besides, I find the work gratifying.”

“As Frances told you, Amanda was a tremendous help to us this morning,” Sister Mary Grace added. “She’s the one who brought Summer out of the meditative state.”

Michael cut her a glance. “It seems I’m in your debt, Dr. Bennett.”

“Not at all. I was glad I could help.”

“Given the circumstances, I took the liberty of discussing the problems Summer’s been having in school with Amanda,” Sister Mary Grace informed him. “I thought it might help to get a professional’s perspective. I hope you don’t mind.”

But he did mind—and very much. Forcing his voice to remain even, he said, “Sister, I know you meant well, but don’t you think you’re jumping the gun? I mean, just because Summer’s had a few problems adjusting to the school doesn’t mean she needs a child psychologist.”

“What would you consider reason enough?” Amanda asked.

Michael tensed. He could feel the muscle twitch in his left cheek. “To be honest, I can’t think of any reason Summer would need a shrink.” They certainly hadn’t helped his sister, he added silently.

Amanda bristled. She’d heard the term often enough, and there was no reason why having Michael Grayson call her by the unflattering name should bother her. But it did.

Sister Mary Grace sighed. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Mr. Grayson. I had hoped that perhaps with Amanda’s help, we would have been able to allow Summer to remain at Saint Margaret’s.”

Michael froze. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t Summer be able to continue at Saint Margaret’s?”

Amanda narrowed her eyes. What was Gracie up to? she wondered. She’d said she wanted help in convincing him to allow his niece to receive counseling. But nothing had been said about dismissing the child if their plan failed.

“Mr. Grayson...Michael,” Sister Mary Grace amended. “I had Frances Green speak to you because I wanted you to see what you’re up against. Saint Margaret’s has a rigid teaching structure bound in Catholicism. And as you know, Summer’s been exposed to a great many other cultures and beliefs—beliefs that are very much at odds with what she’s being taught here.”

“I know that, Sister. But Summer will adapt.”

Sister Mary Grace shook her head. “I don’t think so. At least, not without help.”

“You and I have discussed this before, Sister. I’m not interested in putting Summer in any kind of therapy. She doesn’t need it. All she needs is some time to adjust.”

“She needs more than time, Michael. She needs help. I know you were opposed to the idea of counseling when I first suggested it. But I had hoped that after meeting Amanda and learning that Summer could work with her, here at the school, you might reconsider.”

“I don’t have to reconsider. The answer’s no.”

“Then you leave me no alternative. I have to consider what’s best for the child and, under the circumstances, I honestly don’t believe Saint Margaret’s is good for Summer.”

Michael sat forward, his face a mask of disbelief. “What are you saying?”

Amanda couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Really, Gracie—”