Nora Roberts - Sacred Sins

“It’s no big deal,” he murmured, and continued to look at his knees.

“I’m glad to hear that,” she said, though she knew it was a lie. “I had to switch schools when I was about your age and I was scared to death.”

He glanced up then, not believing, but interested. He had dark brown eyes that should have been eloquently expressive. Instead they were guarded and wary. “Nothing to be scared of, it’s just a school.”

“Why don’t you tell me about it?”

“It’s just a school.”

“How about the other kids? Anyone interesting?”

“They’re mostly jerks.”

“Oh? How’s that?”

“They sort of stand around together. There’s nobody I want to know.”

No one he did know, Tess corrected. The last thing he’d needed at this point was to feel rejected by the school after losing the classmates he’d been used to. “It takes time to make friends, friends who count. It’s harder to be alone, Joey, than it is to try to find them.”

“I didn’t want to transfer.”

“I know.” She was with him there. Someone had to be. “And I know it’s hard to feel as though you can be yanked around whenever the people who make the rules feel like changing them. It’s not all that way, Joey. Your parents chose the school because they wanted the best for you.”

“You didn’t want them to pull me out.” He glanced up again, but so quickly, she hardly caught the color of his eyes. “I heard Mom talking.”

“As your doctor I felt you might be more comfortable in your old school. Your mother loves you, Joey. Transferring you wasn’t a punishment, but her way of trying to make things better for you.”

“She didn’t want me to be with my friends.” But it wasn’t said with bitterness, simply flat acceptance. No choice.

“How do you feel about that?”

“She was afraid if I was around them, I’d start drinking again. I’m not drinking.” It was said not resentfully, again not bitterly, but wearily.

“I know,” Tess said, and laid a hand on his arm. “You can be proud of yourself for pulling out, for making the right choice. I know how hard you have to work every day not to.”

“Mom’s always blaming things that happen on somebody else.”

“What things?”

“Just things.”

“Like the divorce?” As usual, a mention of it brought no response at all. Tess backtracked. “How do you feel about not riding the bus anymore?”

“Buses stink.”

“Your mother’s taking you to school now.”

“Yeah.”

“Have you talked to your father?”

“He’s busy.” He looked at Tess with a touch of resentment mixed with a plea. “He’s got a new job with this computer place, but I’m going to be spending the weekend with him probably next month. For Thanksgiving.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“It’s going to be good.” The little boy was there briefly, shining with hope. “We’re going to go to the Redskins game. He’s going to get tickets on the fifty-yard line. It’s going to be like it used to be.”

“Like it used to be, Joey?”

He looked down at his knees again, but his brows had drawn together in anger.

“It’s important to understand that things won’t be like they used to. Different doesn’t have to be bad. Sometimes change, even when it’s hard, can be the best for everyone. I know you love your father. You don’t have to stop because you’re not living with him.”

“He doesn’t have a house anymore. Just a room. He said if he didn’t have to pay child support, he could have a house.”

She could have damned Joseph Higgins, Sr., to hell, but kept her voice firm and soft. “You understand that your father has a problem, Joey. You are not the problem. Alcohol is.”

“We have a house,” he muttered.

“If you didn’t, do you think your father would be happier?”

No response. He was staring at his shoes now.

“I’m glad you’re going to spend some time with your father. I know you’ve missed him.”

“He’s been busy.”

“Yes.” Too busy to see his son, too busy to return the calls of the psychiatrist who was trying to heal the hurts. “Sometimes adults can get pretty wrapped up in their lives. You must know how difficult things are for your father now, in a new job, because you’re in a new school.”

“I’m going to spend a weekend with him next month. Mom says not to depend on it, but I’m going to.”

“Your mother doesn’t want you to be disappointed if something comes up.”

“He’s going to come get me.”

“I hope so, Joey. But if he doesn’t… Joey…” She touched his arm again and through sheer force of will drew his gaze to hers. “If he doesn’t, you have to know that it isn’t because of you, but because of his illness.”

“Yeah.”

He agreed because agreeing was the quickest way to avoid a hassle. Tess knew it, and wished not for the first time that she could convince his parents he needed more intensive therapy.

“Did your mother bring you today?”

He continued to look down, but the anger, at least outwardly, was gone. “My stepfather.”

“Are you still getting along with him?”

“He’s okay.”

“You know, caring for him doesn’t mean you care less for your father.”

“I said he’s okay.”

“Any pretty girls at your new school?” She wanted a smile from him, any size, any kind. I guess.

“Guess?” Maybe it was the smile in Tess’s voice that had him looking up again. “You look like you have good eyes to me.”

“Maybe there’s a couple.” And his lips did curve a little. “I don’t pay much attention.”

“Well, there’s time for that. Will you come back and see me next week?” I guess.

“Will you do me a favor in the meantime? I said you had good eyes. Look at your mother and your stepfather.” He turned his head, but she took his hand and held it. “Joey…” She waited until those dark, unreadable eyes were on hers again. “Look at them. They’re trying to help. They may make mistakes, but they’re trying because they care about you. A lot of people do. You still have my number, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

“You know you can call me if you want to talk before next week.”

She walked to the door of her office with him and watched as his stepfather rose and gave Joey a big, bluff smile. He was a businessman, successful, easygoing, and well mannered. He was the antithesis of Joey’s father. “All done, huh?” He glanced at Tess, and there was no smile, only tension in his expression. “How’d we do today, Dr. Court?”

“Just fine, Mr. Monroe.”

“That’s good, that’s good. Why don’t we pick up some Chinese, Joey, surprise your mom.”

“Okay.” He bundled into his school jacket, the school he no longer attended. Leaving it unsnapped, he turned back and looked at a point beyond Tess’s right shoulder. “Bye, Dr. Court.”

“Good-bye, Joey, I’ll see you next week.”

They were feeding him, she thought as she shut her orifice door. And he was starving. They were clothing him, but he was still cold. She had the key, but she had yet to be able to turn it so that it opened the lock.

With a sigh, she walked back to her desk. “Dr. Court?” Tess answered her intercom as she slipped the Joey Higgins file into the briefcase beside her desk.

“Yes, Kate.”

“You had three calls while you were in session. One from the Post , one from the Sun , and one from WTTG.”

“Three reporters?” Tess slipped her earring off to gently rub her lobe.

“All three wanted confirmation of your assignment to the Priest homicides.”

“Damn.” She dropped the earring on her blotter. “Not available for comment, Kate.” Yes, ma am.