The unhappy teacher looked nearly as miserable as Olivia felt. “I hoped it was just a quick impulse, that he’d turn around and put it back.”
Olivia hadn’t thought her stomach could sink any deeper, yet it did. She stared down at Joey, who sat in the rigid wooden chair next to hers. “Is this true, Joey? Did you steal from the computer lab?”
He shrugged, a halfhearted gesture that was neither acknowledgment nor apology.
Reaching over, she slipped her hand beneath his chin and tipped his face up so she could meet his eyes. “Joey?”
“I guess.”
She didn’t have it in her to be harsh to her wounded child, so she softened her voice. “Either you stole the headset or you didn’t.”
“Yeah.”
Swallowing against disappointment and sickness, Olivia turned back to the principal, waiting for the judgment to be handed down.
“He had been making progress...” Mrs. Tonell began, but her words died when the principal glared in her direction.
“We discussed this in our last meeting, Mrs. Gray,” the principal said. “And Joey is aware that he was given his final warning.”
Trembling, Olivia faced him, dreading his next words.
“Suspension and working in the library aren’t sufficient solutions to this level of misconduct,” the principal continued. “I am afraid that only leaves expulsion.”
Olivia gasped, then tried to collect herself. “Surely we can reach a compromise that will keep Joey in school.” Leaning forward, she gripped the edge of the desk. “I know how very patient you’ve been since his father passed away, and it’s appreciated far more than I can express. But Joey still hasn’t recovered.” She attempted a small smile but failed. “Neither of us has. I wouldn’t ask for special allowances for myself, but a child...hasn’t lived long enough, experienced enough to deal with such a loss. But I believe he’ll get there in time if he’s given the chance.”
Principal Norrick glanced over at the teacher, then at Joey, finally settling his gaze again on Olivia. “It is not the school’s policy to ignore such behavior....”
Olivia’s throat dried up.
Pausing, the principal turned his attention back to Joey for several moments. “We don’t often expel students. I think you know that, Mrs. Gray. And it is not something I want to do, but the other children can’t be allowed to see Joey getting away with this conduct.” His sigh nearly filled the dismal air. “There may be one option we can exercise on a probationary status.”
Olivia didn’t dare breathe.
“Joey will return the headset and he will be suspended for two weeks. He will still be responsible for collecting and completing all of his schoolwork.” The principal stressed each word, keeping his eyes on Joey. “In addition, he will be required to work two hundred hours of community service.” He turned back to Olivia. “Dorothy will give you details on where to report.”
“Thank you, Principal Norrick. We won’t let you down.”
He studied Joey, clearly upset that a student of his had come to this point. “I hope not.”
“You won’t be disappointed,” she reiterated, ready to escape the adrenaline roller coaster she had been on since entering the school. When her son didn’t speak up, she nudged him. “Joey, thank Mr. Norrick.”
“Thanks,” he mumbled without an ounce of conviction.
The principal stood, and Olivia shot up from her chair and nudged Joey toward the door.
Back in the main area of the office, she tried to gather her wits.
Dorothy sent her a sympathetic smile. “I’m filling in Joey’s community-service assignment.” She lowered her voice so it wouldn’t carry to Principal Norrick’s office. “It should be one he’ll take to.”
“Thanks, Dorothy.” Olivia bit down on her lower lip. “Do you suppose there’s enough time left today for Joey to pick up his schoolwork from his teachers?”
“Should be.” The secretary reached for a different form, then scribbled the necessary information. “Joey, show this to all your teachers and they’ll give you what you need.”
Looking particularly displeased, Joey accepted the paper.
“I’ll wait by the car while you go around to your teachers,” Olivia told him as she stashed his community-service paper in her purse. “No dawdling.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m not five years old.”
She met his rebellious gaze, making herself sound stern and in control, despite feeling as if she were steering a rudderless ship. “Then don’t act like you are.”
* * *
Walking slowly out to the parking lot, Olivia blinked back the threat of tears. Her late husband would be so disappointed to see how badly she was handling their son.
“Something wrong?” a familiar voice questioned.
She halted, trying to act and sound near normal. “Zeke!” she greeted him, relieved that she remembered his name. “At least I didn’t run smack into you this time.”
He held up his empty hands. “The 4-H club now has custody of the chicks. All eighty of them.”
“Again, I’m sorry about that.”
“Unless I’m mistaken, you didn’t aim for me.”
She smiled.
“That’s better.” His grin widened.
As she focused on him, Olivia noticed the white Suburban he stood in front of. Harrison Veterinary Clinic was painted across the top half of the cab. Dr. Harrison. Baby chicks. The dots began to connect. “Are you a veterinarian?”
“Guilty. That’s why I was bringing the—”
“Chicks,” she finished for him. “You work a lot with the 4-H club?”
“Some. I’m the only vet for miles, so I do a little of everything.”
Being an army brat, Olivia had never owned a pet. Her father had insisted it wasn’t practical, since he never knew when they would be transferred. “Probably not so much chick chasing, though.”
He started to grin, then forced his lips into a neutral line but failed to disguise the twinkle in his eyes.
It took a moment but the double entendre hit her like a dozen bricks. Chasing chicks, as in women? She winced. “This obviously isn’t my day.”
“Actually, it was pretty funny.”
She wondered if he meant the ill-worded remark or the scattered baby chickens.
Raising her gaze, Olivia saw that he was focused on her. Swallowing, she fought the flood of attraction and the stunning realization that such feelings still existed within her. Olivia thought they were gone forever when Ted died. Disloyalty and guilt warred with the wash of new emotion.
“Mom!” Annoyance magnified the single word.
And she was appalled to realize she had completely forgotten about her son. She spun toward Joey.
He stared at her with his now-standard impatient-twelve-year-old posturing.
“Nice to have met you, Doctor.” Olivia put her hand on Joey’s shoulder to center herself as she began walking away.
“Zeke,” he corrected.
Even