Reflection Point

chapter SEVENTEEN





Savannah saw the boy behind the glass window that separated the secured area of the airport from the baggage claim. Her gaze skidded away from the bright orange and lime spikes of his hair and the glint of metal from piercings in places that made her wince. That boy dressed in black clothing adorned with silver chains was tall for fourteen. That boy wasn’t her Tommy.

When he stepped toward the exit, her stomach sank. Not her Tommy, but undoubtedly TJ. The hope that she had nurtured for an easy transition evaporated. Were those shadows around his eyes real or was he wearing eye makeup?

This was a boy in full rebellion.

“Uh-oh,” Zach murmured. “Maybe it isn’t him.”

“It’s him.” Savannah offered the boy a smile and tried really hard to get it to reach her eyes. She doubted she succeeded.

He carried a canvas backpack slung across one shoulder and a chip the size of Colorado balanced on the other. He crossed the space with a loose-limbed, insouciant stroll, and the look in his brown eyes was flat. Savannah knew she should probably move to meet him halfway, but her feet remained rooted to the spot.

Until Zach’s hand at the back of her waist gave her a little shove. “Go,” he said softly.

She stumbled forward a step, then drew a bracing breath and shook off her unease. “TJ?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m your aunt Savannah. I’m so glad to see you again.” Her instincts told her to hug him, but when she opened her arms and stepped forward, he stepped back.

He pulled his backpack into his arms, holding it between them in an obvious effort to ward off any embrace. “I checked a duffel bag.”

Feeling helpless, Savannah kept her smile pasted on as she glanced toward the baggage carousel. A light flashed, a buzzer sounded, and the conveyor began to move. “What color is it? We’ll help you look for it. Oh, and TJ? Let me introduce you to my friend, Zach Turner.”

Zach offered a casual, friendly smile as he extended his hand for a handshake. “Welcome to Colorado.”

“Whatever.” TJ ignored Zach’s hand and stepped toward the carousel.

Savannah turned a despairing look toward Zach, who gave her a reassuring wink and mouthed, “Patience, Peach.”

She dug deep for it when TJ rather rudely ignored Zach’s offer to help him carry his gear. She kept hold of it by a string when her nephew veered into the men’s room without so much as an “excuse me.” But when they walked out into the parking lot and Savannah gestured toward the Range Rover with the sheriff’s badge on the door, explaining that they were riding with Zach, the boy stopped abruptly and snapped an obscenity, and Savannah had enough.

“That’s it. Stop it right now,” she declared, bracing her hands on her hips and scowling at the boy. Though only fourteen, he was almost as tall as she, so this was close to being an eye-to-eye standoff. Without shifting her gaze away from TJ, she asked, “Zach, would you please excuse us for a few moments?”

“Sure. I’ll go check the score of the Rockies game.”

She waited until he’d moved beyond earshot, then said, “This is not how I wanted to begin, TJ, but begin we will. I am sorry that your life has been upended. Believe me, I understand how difficult that is. However, you need to get a couple of things straight from the start. You don’t have to love me. You don’t have to even like me. What I will demand is that you respect me. That includes acting respectful toward my friends. Zach is my friend, a dear friend.”

While Savannah spoke, TJ’s expression grew set and sullen. “He’s a cop,” TJ spat, his tone filled with disdain.

Compassion fluttered through Savannah. Cops had arrested his father, hadn’t they? “Look, it was hard for me to get past that myself. But he is a good man and can be a good friend to you if you give him a chance.”

“Like I’d want a cop for a friend,” he scoffed.

“Actually, he’s a sheriff, and there are times in life a friendly law enforcement officer can come in very handy.” Savannah’s gaze drifted toward the man sitting behind the wheel of his truck. Very handy.

“Yeah, right.”

“Look, you and I have a lot to talk about. We need to establish a common ground of what each of us expects and requires from this relationship we’re entering into, but the conversation can wait until we’re home in Eternity Springs.” She folded her arms and added, “In the meantime, I expect you to be respectful to Sheriff Turner. Got it?”

She took his shrug to be an affirmative answer, decided they’d work on “yes, ma’am” and “no, ma’am” pretty quickly, and headed for the truck. TJ shuffled slowly behind her, so she and Zach had a moment alone. “You okay?” he asked.

“What was it you said earlier about my being able to meet challenges?”

“I didn’t say anything about it being easy.”

The back passenger door opened, and TJ threw his duffel and backpack inside, then climbed in. He didn’t say a word, but in the wake of the comments he had made earlier, Savannah considered that a good thing.

They stopped at a Mexican restaurant for lunch before heading back. Savannah didn’t have much of an appetite and only picked at her taco salad. Both males seemed to inhale their meals. Nobody wasted much effort with conversation.

She and Zach made small talk during the first portion of the return trip to Eternity Springs, but once they made the turn onto the two-lane road that would take them over Sinner’s Prayer Pass, Zach gave her a reassuring wink, then glanced into the rearview mirror and asked, “Do you like to fish, TJ?”

It took him a good thirty seconds, but TJ finally responded, “I guess.”

“Angel Creek is a stone’s throw away from Savannah’s house, and fishermen pull some nice trout out of there. Our friend Cam can get you fixed up with gear and a license.”

Savannah watched her nephew in the vanity mirror mounted on the visor and noted interest that the boy tried to hide but couldn’t. Good instincts, Zach. Following his lead, she brought up other outdoor activities that Eternity Springs and the surrounding environs had to offer. Zach picked up where she left off, and they basically tag-teamed TJ like tourist office employees. He acted disinterested, but Savannah could see through that look.

She knew that look very well. She’d seen it in the mirror a million times. TJ was interested in the possibilities that awaited him here in Colorado, but he wasn’t going to get his hopes up over anything. He’d been burned before. Until he stood at the banks of Angel Creek with a rod in his hand and fish on his line, he wouldn’t believe he could go fishing. Same for camping, zip-lining, snowmobiling, and skiing. However, she and Zach had successfully planted the seeds, and the boy would think about it.

One they’d exhausted the activities travelogue, Zach struck up a conversation with Savannah designed to pique TJ’s interest in the people of the town. He spoke about Celeste and Nic Callahan, and when he talked about Jack Davenport he made sure to drop those three little letters guaranteed to catch a boy’s interest: CIA. He mentioned Colt’s summer baseball league team, but it wasn’t until he mentioned basketball that TJ abandoned all pretense of disinterest. “Basketball camp? With Coach Romano? Which one? There are two of them.”

Finally, he speaks, Savannah thought.

“Both Anthony and Lucca Romano will be here,” Zach said. “They are my deputy sheriff’s brothers. The basketball camp is a fund-raiser for the summer camp the Davenports are opening later this year. It’ll be sometime in August, right, Savannah?”

“It’s actually over Labor Day weekend. Gabi said it was the only time both her brothers could arrange time off together. Apparently basketball recruiting season has become a year-round thing, just like football.”

“I’ve played some one-on-one with Gabi Romano. I’m no slouch on the hardwood, but she can whip my butt. She helped me with my hook shot, though. She wants to get me into shape for a pickup game with her brothers.”

“I suppose this camp is just for high-school-age kids?” TJ asked.

“Yes, it’s for varsity-level players.”

Crestfallen, TJ slumped back in his seat. Savannah twisted around and studied her nephew, sensing that she’d been handed a golden opportunity. Gabi had already offered to help Savannah with TJ in any way she could. It appeared she’d just been handed a bargaining chip. “Gabi Romano has become a special friend of mine, TJ. I expect we could arrange a private lesson or two with the Romano brothers if that’s something you’d be interested in.”

He went still, then narrowed his eyes. “What’s the catch?”

She couldn’t help but grin. Of course there would be a catch. For Moores, there was always a catch. “You have to give me, give us, a chance. I know this has been a terrible time for you and I understand why you arrived here with a chip on your shoulder, but life will be so much better for both of us if you’ll try to make a life here, try to make a home with me.”

Temper flared in his eyes. “Screw that. My life and my home are in Georgia. I’m going back there real soon.”

“You’d rather be in the system there than living with family here?” Zach asked.

“I’d rather be on my own at home. They had no business making me leave. I can take care of myself. I was doing just fine at home on my own. I didn’t need supervision. I’ve been getting myself to school—and making good grades, by the way—for months now. I kept groceries in the house and cooked and did laundry. I even mowed the lawn. I sure as hell didn’t need to go into foster care. I didn’t deserve that. If not for a busybody cop, I’d still be home and we’d all be happy. It’s not like you want me here anyway. I got forced on you.”

“That’s not true,” Savannah said. “I could have said no.”

“At least you had a choice. Everyone else gets to make choices. I should, too.”

Anger rolled off the boy in waves and Savannah decided now was not the time to argue with him, or even to try to reason with him. “Well, if you decide you want to put down your chip and pick up a basketball, let me know.”

She turned back to Zach and asked, “Have you been into Vistas recently? Sage has acquired a new artist. He lives near Durango and he paints wildlife. She has one painting he’s done of an elk up on Sinner’s Prayer Pass that takes your breath away.”

With that, talk returned to generic topics and TJ didn’t participate, but instead sat behind them fuming. When they finally reached the Eternity Springs city limits sign, Savannah wanted to cheer. Once Zach pulled up in front of the house, she asked him, “Would you like to come in for a few minutes? Let me show TJ where to put his things, then I’d like to speak with you.”

“Tell you what. Let me drop off my wheels at the office, then I’ll stop back. I rode my bike in this morning.”

“You bought a new bicycle, didn’t you? Cam had a bet on how long you’d resist it.”

Zach grinned that devilish smile of his. “I heard. I waited one day past the date he’d bet on.” He glanced over her shoulder, then deliberately leaned down and kissed her softly on her mouth. “See you in twenty.”

Zach drove away and Savannah turned to see TJ scowling after him. So, Zach was staking his claim with that kiss, was he?

Of course he had been. Savannah sighed, then muttered with disgust, “Boys.”

TJ’s insides were churning. Not like he was gonna be sick, but like he was gonna puke, roaring like he was gonna explode. He imagined flames shooting out of his mouth, laser beams zapping from his eyes, and steam blowing out of his ears. Not like a cartoon character, though. Like a monster. TJzilla. He wanted to grow a thousand feet tall and stomp all over Eternity effing Springs.

Instead, he stood silent and unmoving, waiting for his drunk dad’s druggie sister to tell him where to put his stuff.

She gave him a fake smile, then proceeded to tell him that the first floor of her house was a shop. “We can use the kitchen and downstairs bathroom, but since we share it with the shop, we need to be sure to keep everything very clean. I prefer you shower only upstairs.”

He almost told her, That’s okay, I don’t shower, but the idea of not showering grossed even him out.

“I closed the shop today so that we could have a chance to get you settled in. Ordinarily we’re open nine to eight Monday through Saturday and one to six on Sunday through Labor Day. After that, we’ll go to winter hours and most of the business will be by mail order. It’s a little weird living above the store, but you’ll get accustomed to it. Follow me and I’ll show you your room.”

She led him up the stairs and down a short hallway. “I thought I’d let you choose. I have a regular bedroom here that is two doors away from the bathroom, or you could use the attic room. It has heat and a bed, but it’s less convenient. On the other hand, it’s more private and bigger, and you could do what you want to—within reason—with the space. The choice is up to you.”

He knew without looking that he wanted the attic. The farther away from her, the better.

It was an awesome space, and for a few minutes he forgot to be pissed. Because the house had a high pitched roof and a lot of dormer windows, the attic room had nooks and crannies that made it interesting. It’d be cool to live up here. “This’ll do.”

“Okay, then. I have a friend, Celeste Blessing, who has a treasure trove of furniture and other items that she’s offered for you to choose from to decorate your space.”

“Whatever.”

She stared at him like a cockroach in the kitchen. He tried to give her his don’t-give-a-shit smile, but he was afraid he couldn’t pull it off, so he went with sauntering over to the bed and throwing his duffel and backpack on top of it. “Where’s the pisser?”

After a long moment’s pause, she replied, “Consider this fair warning. I’m going to give you today, TJ. No matter how hard you try to hide it, I know this must be a very difficult day for you. Frankly, it has been for me. So I’m going to give both of us today. The bathroom”—she emphasized the word—“is the first door to the left at the bottom of the attic stairs. Supper is at six.”

She left him then—just in time, thank God, because he felt the tears welling up inside him and he’d rather die than let her see him cry. But the minute he was alone, he sprawled across the bed and bawled like a baby until at some point he fell asleep.

He slept until four o’clock, and when he woke up, he did need to use the crapper. Glancing in the mirror as he washed his hands, he scowled at puffy, red eyes. This sucked.

He went snooping for eyedrops in the drawers and cabinet. When he saw tampons, fingernail polish, and powder-scent antiperspirant instead of shaving lotion and nose hair clippers, he experienced a pang in his chest all over again. He blew out a breath and found anger to replace the pain. Then his gaze fell on an unopened package of eyedrops. Five minutes later, he was sneaking down the staircase hoping to escape the house without his aunt’s notice.

He heard her talking to someone and he stopped to eavesdrop.

“… his hair. He’s not going to fit in and make friends looking like that. I don’t know much about kids, but I do know if I say anything it will backfire.”

Another woman said, “I don’t envy you, Savannah. At least with Alex, I get fourteen years to get ready to have a fourteen-year-old. You didn’t even have a week.”

TJ silently mocked the woman. You didn’t even have a week. Try being on it from my side, lady.

Downstairs, he turned away from the voices and made his way through the shop to the front door, where a rectangular sign reading OPEN faced him. He unlocked the door, and as he went out, he flipped the sign around so that OPEN faced the street rather than the word CLOSED.

“Serves her right for talking about me behind my back,” he declared.

At the end of the walk, he looked both ways. One direction appeared to be just as boring as the other. He headed west, then turned north on a wide street named Spruce, noting that her house was on Fourth so that he could find his way … not home. Never home. Back to his aunt’s house.

He shoved his hands in his pockets as he strolled up the street. His fingers found the money the lawyer had given him for his trip, so when he passed a sandwich shop, he went inside and ordered a soft drink. He couldn’t help but notice that the girl behind the counter had a nose ring.

He wondered if hers was real or fake like his.

He wandered into a gift shop, where the clerk pointed out the NO FOOD OR DRINK sign on the front door. He considered “accidentally” dropping his cup on his way outside, but he still had half of it left. As he walked past the barber shop, he noticed the barber’s disapproving stare, so he grinned and gave his spikes a pat. Good thing he knew how to use the clippers himself and didn’t have to count on anyone else to cut his hair.

TJ didn’t want to have to count on anyone else for anything.

He finished his drink as he reached the intersection of Spruce and Sixth. He spied a trash can and took two steps toward it before he remembered himself and tossed his paper cup onto the sidewalk.

Across the street on his right was a school. To the left, a park—Davenport Park, according to the sign. Telling himself he wasn’t one bit curious about the school, he entered the park.

The playground teemed with rug rats and moms with strollers, plus a few families he pegged as tourists. Seemed to be a lot of tourists on the streets, and in a moment of honesty he could understand why. The weather was great; about a million times better than it was in Atlanta this time of year. The place was pretty to look at, too, and all those activities the sheriff talked about? They sounded like a blast.

It made him think of the times he’d gotten to visit his great-grandmother up in the Great Smoky Mountains.

Just then a little kid let out a yell on the playground, catching TJ’s attention, and he noticed a couple of kids half his age who had haircuts like his. A six-year-old couldn’t shave his own head. That meant his parents had to be in on the style. Really? No way would his dad have let him wear his hair this way.

Isn’t that why you went for the style? To piss him off, since he couldn’t do anything about it?

Thinking about his father depressed him, so he turned and walked away from the playground. Passing an empty baseball diamond, he heard the familiar thump, thump, thump of a basketball bouncing on a cement court. He veered toward the sound, rounded some bleachers, and spied a guy near his age shooting baskets by himself.

TJ blurted out the question without thinking about it. “Hey, wanna play horse?”

The guy turned. “Sure.”

Not a guy. A girl. Well, okay. TJ didn’t have anything against girls.

“My name is Mandy West. What’s yours?”

“TJ.”

“You want to warm up first, TJ?”

He shrugged. “Okay.”

She tossed him the ball and started talking. Mandy was thirteen years old, in seventh grade. She had one brother and one sister and her parents were divorced. Her mother called her father a deadbeat dad because he hadn’t sent child support since he moved in with his girlfriend in February. “We’re poor now and Mom has to work more and we don’t get new sneakers for school this year because the ones we have are still okay. I’m mad at my dad for being deadbeat, but I still miss him, you know?”

TJ absolutely did know.

He won the first game of horse, and she challenged him to two out of three. She only stopped talking when they were actually taking their shots. After blabbing about herself, she started asking questions about him. She thought he was a tourist. He didn’t tell her otherwise at first, simply saying that he was from Atlanta and had just arrived in town that day.

“How long are you going to be here?”

After a moment’s pause, he replied, “I’m not sure.”

“Are you staying at a place in town?”

“Yes.” He didn’t elaborate at first, but then he decided it was stupid to put it off. “I’m not exactly a tourist. I’m staying with my aunt for a while.”

“Who is your aunt?”

“Savannah Moore.”

Mandy’s face brightened. “Ms. Moore from Heavenscents? That’s cool. She’s really nice. She doesn’t mind me coming in just to smell stuff even though I can’t buy anything, and when I wanted to buy my mom something for her birthday from Heavenscents, Ms. Moore gave me a big discount so I could buy a bubble bath bar. Mom loved it.”

Bubble bath? That’s what all that stuff is? He’d noticed the smell in the shop, but he’d been in a hurry to make his escape, so he hadn’t looked around.

The second game lasted a little longer than the first, mainly because Mandy started talking about kids in the seventh grade and wouldn’t shut up. She told him stories about a dozen people before she finally wound down. After she missed a shot for her S, she turned to him and asked, “Can I ask you a question, TJ?”

Could I possibly stop you?

“When you have a ring in your nose, does it hurt to sneeze?”

He couldn’t help it—he started to laugh. It was the first time he’d laughed since his father got arrested.

His laughter died when he heard someone call his name. Zach Turner stood at the edge of the court, his arms folded, his mouth set in a fearsome scowl.