Reflection Point

chapter EIGHTEEN





After two weeks of “motherhood,” Savannah was ready to pull her hair out. How could one teenage boy create so much havoc? If he was this big a pain at fourteen, imagine how he’d be at sixteen.

Of course, she admitted, she was part of the problem at times. From the first day when she discovered he’d left the house, assumed he’d run away, and called the sheriff’s office for help, to today when, in a hormonal snit, she’d yelled at him for leaving the seat up in the bathroom, she had done her share of making matters worse. She was supposed to be the grown-up in this relationship, but sometimes she’d acted ten years old to his fourteen. Getting her feelings hurt because he didn’t like her ginger cookies was just plain stupid, and so what if the one time she’d seen him engaged and open was while talking about basketball with Gabi Romano? She should be glad for every non-juvenile-delinquent moment she got! Instead, she snapped at him, he stormed out, and then she spent the rest of the day fretting.

The phone rang, and she picked it up without checking caller ID. “Heavenscents.”

“Hello, dear,” Celeste said. “Have I called at a bad time?”

“Not at all. Business has been slow today. I admit it worries me a little bit. August is supposed to be the height of tourist season.”

“You’ll have days like this going forward. The key is to remember that the sun always rises on a new day.”

That rather cryptic comment caused Savannah a modicum of concern. Why did she think Celeste might be talking about something other than walk-in customers?

She knew, of course, and she couldn’t hold back a sigh as she asked, “What has he done now?”

“TJ is such a troubled boy. My heart truly breaks for him.”

“Celeste, what did he do?”

“He is quite inventive, you realize. Has a bright, creative mind. He simply must learn how to channel all that creativity—without a can of spray paint.”

Oh dear.

“Some graffiti artists are true artists. Coming from the city like TJ does, it’s not surprising that he turns to that outlet for some of his anger.”

Anger? I’ll show him anger. “Where is he?”

“He’s at Angel’s Rest, dear. He decided to decorate Cougar’s Lair cottage. I’m afraid that my spa manager spied him in the act and called the sheriff’s office. Zach is here.”

Savannah closed her eyes. “I’ll be right there.”

Zach was pissed enough to chew the bark off a Ponderosa pine. The little dipstick had gone too far this time. It wasn’t simply the fact that TJ had defaced Angel’s Rest. What he’d painted was beyond inappropriate. Savannah was gonna blow a gasket.

He stared at the cottage wall and considered the state of his own gaskets. In all his years in law enforcement, he’d never been tempted to use the power of his office as payback … until today. Cam Murphy and Mac Timberlake had already been by to take a gander. He figured Callahan and Rafferty weren’t far behind. At least Davenport was out of town. Zach would be hearing about this all winter long.

A male figure sat in the image of the claw-foot bathtub now painted across the long side of the dark red, Victorian style cottage. You couldn’t tell by the face that the guy was meant to be him, but the badge painted on the naked chest made it clear. Soap bubbles floated on the air all around him, and a cartoon speech balloon read, “Hey, Peach, want me to soap your fuzz?”

Zach turned a fierce, narrow-eyed glare on the unrepentant little hoodlum as the Angel’s Rest caretaker arrived with the supplies Zach had requested. “These are my last two gallons of the red, Sheriff,” the man said. “Should be enough to paint the wall unless those neon colors bleed through.”

“Thanks.”

“It’s been over a year since I painted this cabin. Could be that a fresh coat on this wall will stick out like a sore thumb.”

“If that’s the case, TJ will repaint the entire cottage. He’ll also replace the paint he uses today.”

TJ smartly chose to keep quiet as the caretaker unloaded a paint tray, roller, paintbrush, and rags from the back of the utility vehicle. Only after the man drove off did TJ quip, “Just call me Tom Sawyer.”

Zach had plenty of things he’d like to call the kid; Tom Sawyer wasn’t one of them. “Pain in the ass” was near the top of the list. Not only had TJ caused an unending amount of trouble, but Zach hadn’t gotten laid since TJ Moore had blown into town.

“Have you painted anything before? Do you need instruction?”

“I can handle it.”

Zach folded his arms. “Then get to work.”

“Are you going to stand around and watch me?”

“Depends. Would you rather I leave?”

“Yes.”

Zach smiled pleasantly. “In that case, I’ll stay.”

TJ’s reaction had Zach recalling his mother’s caution: Careful, son. You don’t want your eyeballs to get stuck in the back of your head.

The memory lightened his mood somewhat as he watched the boy stir the paint, then pour it into the tray. When he spied Savannah’s Taurus approaching, he was able to offer her a genuine smile. She exited the car like the queen of the Amazons ready to go to war. The sight of her struck Zach with an arrow of wanting, and his voice was husky when he said, “Hello, beautiful.”

She cut him a look that said, I don’t have time for that. He’d grown quite familiar with that look during the past three weeks. “Thomas James,” she snapped. “What in the world … oh my.”

She gawked at the graffiti, then her cheeks went red as hummingbird syrup. “Why?”

TJ lifted his chin. “I didn’t figure it was private, since you talked bubble baths in front of me.”

“We didn’t know you were there!”

The boy was referring to the previous evening, when Zach had stopped by as Savannah closed up Heavenscents and tried to talk her into spending the evening out at Reflection Point. He’d been teasing her, teasing them both, when TJ walked out of the kitchen, which both had believed to be empty.

“You eavesdropped on a private conversation,” she continued. “You should have made your presence known.”

“I was too embarrassed.”

“So you decided to embarrass me back.”

Zach didn’t believe the boy had been embarrassed. He didn’t have room for embarrassment because of all the anger he nursed. Zach couldn’t remember a time he’d ever seen a boy with so much fury inside him. Thinking about it drained more of Zach’s own anger.

Then the boy went and stepped over a line he should have stayed well away from.

“Oh, lighten up, Auntie Drug Dealer. If I’d wanted to embarrass you, I’d have painted you wearing an orange jumpsuit in your prison cell.”

Savannah gasped. Zach’s temper blew. “You little jackass. You do not talk to your aunt this way.”

“Why not?” TJ slammed the paintbrush to the ground. “Why shouldn’t I say it? It’s the truth. She’s an ex-con who went to prison for drug dealing. That’s pretty embarrassing if you ask me, and I should know. I’m an expert on embarrassment. My whole family is an embarrassment. My uncle’s in jail, my dad’s in jail, my aunt was in jail. Do I have good genes or what? But hey, I guess I shouldn’t complain. It could be worse. I could be in foster care again.” Then, so softly Zach wasn’t sure he heard it, the boy added, “With the pervs.”

Zach’s radar went onto high alert. The pervs?

The boy’s jaw went hard and his hands fisted at his side. He started blinking. Blinking. Blinking.

TJ Moore was crying.

Savannah saw the tears swell in her nephew’s eyes, processed the words he’d just said, and her fury evaporated. She didn’t know what to say to him, what to do. She sent a beseeching look toward Zach, but he was staring at TJ, a troubled look on his face.

TJ jerked his gaze away from Zach and Savannah, grabbed up a roller, and almost shoved it into the paint. He painted a wide swath of red across the center of the image he’d created and in that instant, Savannah knew what to do. She picked up a brush, dipped it in paint, and began attacking soap bubbles. A moment later Zach grabbed another roller and joined them.

Her gaze remaining on the wall before her, Savannah asked, “Did you ever hear the story about the time your father saved the life of a woman on his paper route?”

TJ cut her a sharp look and she spied the surprise in his eyes.

“Mrs. Pimlott. She was in her late seventies, but she still drove. She had a big old Cadillac. Dad used to call it a land yacht. Anyway, it was Saturday afternoon and we’d had a lot of rain the previous few days. Mrs. Pimlott was on her way to church when she found her way blocked by some orange safety cones. Instead of stopping, she maneuvered around the cones and drove right into a creek that had overflowed its banks. That’s when Gary saw her.”

Savannah paused and dipped her brush into the paint can. Though TJ didn’t say a word, she could tell that he was paying close attention. “The water was up to her neck, and afterward she told everyone that she’d been certain she was about to die. She wasn’t strong enough to open the door.

“Gary rushed right into the water. He managed to get the door open and helped her out of the car. Even then they weren’t safe because the water was really churning. You know that scar he has just above his left knee? That’s where the tree branch hit him.”

“I thought he got that scar in a bar fight.”

“Nope. He got it saving Mrs. Pimlott’s life. He waited with her until an emergency crew showed up and helped them out of the creek. He was seventeen, I believe. Maybe sixteen. He acted selflessly and courageously, and we were all so proud of him.”

Savannah didn’t say any more, allowing TJ time to consider the story.

While filling his roller with paint, Zach suggested, “Tell him the story you told me about your dad and the guy in the grocery store.”

It was another story that showed TJ’s family in a positive manner, and Savannah repeated it with pleasure. Of her brothers, she’d been closest to Gary. She knew he loved his son, had seen how he’d grieved when TJ’s mother left them. The fact that he’d believed Kyle instead of her was a wound on her heart still today.

With three people working, the image fell quickly beneath a cover of crimson. Savannah said no more, but she continued to watch TJ closely, so as the last soap bubble disappeared beneath his roller, she didn’t miss the tears that spilled from his eyes and trailed down his cheeks. For a moment, she debated how to react. Instinct told her to take him in her arms and hold him, but experience—the lack of experience—kept her rooted in place.

“I miss my dad,” TJ said.

Her heart twisted. “I know you do, Teej.”

“Why did he have to be so stupid? He knew the consequences. He knew they’d throw his ass in jail if he got another DUI. He knew I’d be alone!”

Savannah had asked herself that question, and she didn’t have an answer. Fumbling for a response, she met Zach’s sympathetic gaze. He said, “Alcoholism is a disease, son. In my job, I’ve seen over and over how it grabs hold of a person’s will and strangles the life out of it.”

“He should have gotten help. He didn’t even try. I heard his lawyer tell him he needed to go into a program. He wouldn’t. And they warned him what would happen to me. He just didn’t care.”

“He let you down,” Zach said.

“Big time!”

TJ wiped his nose with his sleeve, and Savannah squelched the automatic urge to tell him to find a tissue.

“I’m so pissed at him … he didn’t even say good-bye to me. The day they came and got him, all he had to say were excuses.”

Savannah said, “But you still miss him.”

“Yeah, I do. He’s my dad.”

She totally understood.

“I didn’t get to see him. I was supposed to get to see him the day before I left, but there was some screwup at the jail and it didn’t happen. The lawyer said he’d get Dad to call me, but I don’t know how that’s supposed to happen with me here. Dad may not even know where I am. I don’t have a cell phone and he won’t call you, Aunt Savannah.”

It was the first time he’d actually addressed her as “Aunt Savannah,” and despite the circumstances under which he used it, she felt a rush of pleasure.

“See, this is where having a friend in law enforcement can help,” Zach said. “I can make a phone call happen … if I want to make it happen, that is.”

Savannah could easily read the warring emotions on TJ’s face. He didn’t want to ask for any help from Zach, but the sneaky smart sheriff had dangled something the boy desired. She took pity on him and asked, “What would make you want to make it happen, Zach?”

TJ watched him suspiciously.

Zach allowed the moment to stretch out before saying, “Nothing. I’m happy to help make it happen for you, TJ.”

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch.”

Distrust clouded TJ’s expression. “You’d do that after I …” He gestured toward the cottage wall. “Why?”

“You should be able to speak with your dad. I think being able to talk to one’s parents is up near the top of any kid’s list of important things. If my parents were still alive, I’d want to talk to them. I’d give just about anything for that.”

TJ seemed to consider this carefully. “You’re not going to try to bribe me into acting … different?”

“Nope.”

“You’re not going to make me bow and scrape and apologize?”

“Oh, I expect an apology, and we will deal with that. You need to apologize to your aunt, and to me, and to Celeste, too. But the issue with your dad is a separate matter. I’ll make some calls and we’ll figure out a way for you to talk to him. That is a no-strings-attached offer.”

Savannah’s gaze shifted between man and boy. Zach was good. He had found just the right approach to get through to the boy.

Her mind was spinning, haunted by his use of the word pervs. Was this simply a case of exaggeration, or could her nephew have been abused in a foster home? She needed to find out the answer, but how? Asking him outright wouldn’t work. If she’d learned anything about TJ during the past three weeks, it was that they still had a ways to go before he’d talk to her about anything of importance.

Yet she would need to get him to talk to someone. Who? A doctor? Maybe the school counselor? She assumed the school did have a counselor, but she honestly didn’t know. The question had never been an issue with her. She’d have to get to work on that.

In the meantime, she had an idea. “I have an offer to make that does come with strings, TJ.”

His scowl couldn’t hide the apprehension her comment had caused.

“I’ll make a deal with you. If you don’t give me any more trouble, if you’ll help around the house and the shop and behave respectfully to me, to my friends, and to yourself for the rest of the summer, during fall break I’ll take you to see your father.”

TJ’s eyes widened. Zach’s mouth gaped. “You’ll go back to Georgia?”

“Yes, I will. For a visit. If TJ makes an effort to get along and works with me instead of against me.”

Zach leveled a look on TJ. “You should probably understand that going back to Georgia would be a huge deal for your aunt. She’s told me dozens of times that she’d never go back. That she would do that for you, after … everything”—this time Zach was the one who gestured toward the wall—“that’s an offer you need to appreciate.”

Savannah wouldn’t deny Zach’s claim, but she thought enough had been said. She set down her paintbrush and picked up a rag. Wiping paint from her fingers, she asked, “So, what will it be, Teej? Do we have a deal?”

She didn’t miss the leap of excitement in his brown eyes. Oh, Gary. Do you know how much your son loves you?

“Yes, ma’am.” He wiped his hand on his jeans, then stuck out his hand for a handshake. “We have a deal.”

Ma’am. Smiling, she took a risk. Stepping forward, she wrapped him in her arms for a hug instead.