Before We Fell Page 2

  “Thanks,” I replied, as a slow heat crept up my neck. Accepting compliments wasn’t my strong suit.

  Brooke turned to me, hands on her hips. “And I can’t believe you’re done already. How did you do this so fast with conferences?”

  “I had one reschedule this afternoon and one didn’t show.”

  Her light brown brows arched. “I guess that’s not a surprise. We always have a few. Bummer though.”

  “It was Noah Wilkes.” A tightness clawed at my throat as I spoke his name.

  “Oh…” Her bottom lip went to her teeth and she cringed.

  Noah Wilkes was no secret to Carlton. Originally from here, he’d moved as soon as he went to college and never returned. He eventually went to law school and then went on to become some hot shot defense attorney in St. Louis. I knew from talking to his dad, Keith, occasionally that that profession made his head want to explode.

  But Noah, along with his younger sister Amanda and their entire family, made the front page local paper early in the year when Amanda and her husband had been shot in a parking garage. Their young daughter Riley had been with them and it was assumed she’d seen it all. Shortly after, Noah was given custody of his niece and at some point this summer, he’d moved back to town.

  I hadn’t seen him yet, and while I hadn’t exactly been looking forward to meeting him and Riley, I was definitely already feeling protective of the little girl.

  When I saw her picture in the paper, huge blue eyes clutching a brown, stuffed dog to her chest at her parents’ funeral, my heart had never ached so bad.

  “Yeah,” I said, and went to the small round table where I dropped the tape into a bucket. “I still can’t imagine everything they’re going through. And for him to give up everything.”

  Word in town was that he’d quit his high-profile career and moved back to give Riley some stability and so she could be around her grandparents. I didn’t have any idea where her father’s side of the family was from, and while it was none of my business, I still couldn’t help but be curious.

  The photo of Noah in the paper had taken my breath away, in an entirely inappropriate way. Grief lined his eyes, but it was the way he’d stared at the casket that stole my breath. He looked vicious. Ready to get revenge on whoever had damaged his family. Severe cut jaw lined with a short beard and eyes that could set steel on fire with a glare, my heart had thumped at the way he’d had his arm wrapped around Riley, protecting her.

  The last thing I should have been thinking about while reading that article was how hot the man was while he said his final goodbye to his sister. I also couldn’t deny I’d been on pins and needles all day waiting to meet the man in person.

  “Andrew saw him at the hardware store earlier this week,” Brooke said. “We were several years younger than him and Amanda in school, so we didn’t really know them, but Andrew said the guy looked an absolute wreck.” She shook her head and frowned. “So sad. I feel so bad for them and how do you go from living alone in a city to caring for a little girl here? And after what she saw, God, my heart hurts just thinking about it.”

  Andrew and Brooke had been married for years and had two kids of their own. High school sweethearts, they had also both grown up in Carlton, returning right after she graduated college.

  “Enough gossip,” I said, brushing my hands down my thighs. “I’ll give him a call to reschedule, but I am definitely going to have to keep an eye on her this year.”

  “Yeah, but if anyone can help her if she needs it, it’s you.”

  Brooke was so sweet. Boisterous and sometimes over-the-top with her energy, she was also extremely loyal and one of the most genuine people I’d ever met. I adored her friendship.

  “Thanks, Brooke.”

  “No problem.” She clapped her hands together and then held them to her chest. “So, wanna help me do my room since yours is done?”

  I grabbed my bucket with tape and scissors and push pins off the table and grinned. “Of course I do.”

  Two

  Lauren

  * * *

  All around me, a slew of children ran and screamed, basketballs went every which way, and there were squeals of glee as children flung themselves down the slides. I was on recess duty with Anna Caprice, one of the other teachers. We usually spent the time starting conversations where we hardly finished a sentence due to one of many children running up and interrupting. It wasn’t exactly my favorite time of day but due to budget restraints, for the last two years, us teachers had to share recess duty, giving the other teachers planning time, instead of the part-time employees the district used to hire for the purpose.

  It was tiring, but not bad, just loud. With school in session for less than a week, summer still in full swing with the August heat beating down on us, the kids were wild.

  All except Riley.

  So far, she had sat alone on a bench every day at recess. When other kids approached her and invited her to play, she shook her head and didn’t say a word.

  Such as it’d been every day so far. She wasn’t speaking to anyone. When I called on her in class or tried to draw her into a discussion and work one on one with her, she barely mumbled a response.

  If my heart ached for her before school started solely on knowing her past, meeting her and trying to interact with her was causing it to crack in two.

  She was a pretty little girl with a thick mass of blonde hair down to her waist. Her blue eyes were the largest of any child I’d ever seen. With her round face and pretty nose and a tiny little gap between her two front teeth, if her parents had put her in modeling she’d be famous, she was that beautiful.

  But she was devastatingly sad. And quiet. And every endeavor I’d attempted so far to get her to talk to me had failed miserably. I had no idea what to do to help her, only that something had to be done.

  Today her wild and thick hair was tangled as if she hadn’t taken a brush to it in days, or if she’d attempted, hadn’t done it very well. She sat on the bench, head bent, and although I couldn’t see her face, I imagined she was watching her pink sandals swing back and forth as she skimmed them over the mulch.

  “Any luck so far?” Anna asked, stepping up to me.

  I didn’t pull my gaze off Riley as I shook my head. “No. Nothing and it’s killing me.”

  “Have you heard back from her uncle yet?”

  More frustrating than so far being unable to connect with one of my students was the lack of returned calls from Noah. I’d left three messages. Two before school started attempting to reschedule the conference, and one last week when she didn’t speak after the first two days. I’d even gone so far as to look up her records to ensure I had the correct number, but I already knew I did since every time I called, I received Noah’s voicemail, declaring it was him.

  He just hadn’t returned a call yet.

  “No. I’m going to try again today though. We’ll see.”

  She curled her hand over my shoulder and squeezed. “Good luck. Hey! Carson! Watch what you’re doing with the ball!” she shouted as a ball almost bounced right into her chest. At the last second, she caught it and swung her head toward a group of boys playing basketball and grinned back at me. “I’ll go take this back to them and remind them to play carefully.” She winked. “Again.”

  Kids. Gotta love them. “You got it.”

  I waved to her and headed toward Riley, scanning the playground for any issues I needed to jump into on my way. Finding none, I slid on the bench next to where she sat and crossed one leg over the other. I sat silently next to her for a few minutes to see what she’d do.

  Nothing. She didn’t acknowledge my presence in any way and that crack in my heart grew larger with every sad, passing moment.

  “Hey, you like to draw and color, right?” I asked her. What little girl didn’t?

  To my surprise, her shoulder closest to me rose and fell.

  “I bet you’re an excellent drawer,” I said. Keeping my eyes on the playground so she didn
’t feel forced to answer, and to keep an eye on the mass of third graders, I kept talking, acting like I was talking more to myself than her. “I bet you draw unicorns and ice cream cones and I also bet you can draw houses really well, too. You know, I bought some special pens this summer just for you kids to try out.”

  I leaned in closer as if I was sharing a secret. I hadn’t been prepared to break them out until a rainy day where we couldn’t be outside, but I was desperate for some sort of connection with Riley. “They have glitter in them,” I whispered.

  That got her. Her back straightened, and even though her head was still bent, her lips tipped up. What girl didn’t love a good glitter pen? Heck, I was twenty-five and still loved them. But I was more girly-girl than most at my age. “I was going to save them for special days. But maybe today we can get them out.”

  Her head nodded quickly. Just two quick head nods. It wasn’t much, but it was the most I’d gotten from her. I pushed one more time. “Maybe, if you help me hand them out later, I’ll let you choose the first one?”

  Her head turned to me, eyes so big and so bright but still so desperately sad, it took all I had to keep my smile plastered on my face. Her blonde brows rose as if it was the most exciting thing she’d heard in a long time.

  “Would you like that?” I asked.

  Her excitement diminished and she slid her gaze to the playground. The small smile of hers died as she spoke, for the first time, in the quietest voice. “I lost all my glitter pens when I moved.”

  Oh God. Tears welled in my eyes and before I could stop myself, I tucked my arm around her and gave her a quick squeeze. “Then today, we’ll bust out the pens and you can help. Deal?”

  She nodded once and sniffed. Before I pushed too hard too fast, I gave her a quick squeeze. Standing, I gestured to a group of girls who were running and playing tag. “I bet they’d let you play with them if you want to.”

  She shook her head quickly and darn it. Her head fell back to the mulch.

  “Okay. We’ll just look forward to drawing later then.” I flashed her a smile even though she didn’t look back at me, and I walked away, fighting tears and at the same time, a smile.

  I got her to talk to me with glitter pens.

  What else could I use?

  “Hello, Mr. Wilkes, this is Lauren Frazier, Riley’s teacher. I’ve left several messages already, but it’s important you call me back. Something happened with Riley, today, and well…” My voice trailed off. The glitter pen drawing idea had ended in a disaster. Riley’s paper shook as I held it in my hand and I desperately tried to wipe off the tear I’d allowed to fall on to it.

  So stupid, Lauren. A simple idea of drawing a picture of what kids had done this summer and Riley had lost all of her love of glitter pens. I was certain of it. And if she hadn’t, I was leaning in the direction of never wanting to see another one again.

  “Please, call me, Mr. Wilkes. It’s important. I’m concerned, and today didn’t go well. We really need to meet and discuss how I can best teach Riley this year. Thank you.” I rattled off my number and extension along with my email in case he had some severe phobia of returning a phone call before hanging up.

  God.

  I was correct. For her age, Riley was an excellent drawer, but it was the subject I stared at that made me ache down to my bones.

  Gray sky filled with black clouds. Bright green grass. Two large trees draped over the center of the page. And beneath those droopy, sad looking trees were the only other things on the page. Two, black curved objects. Over the top of them were the words “Mom” and “Dad” in harshly scribbled, shaking letters.

  She’d drawn tombstones. The funeral. It hadn’t even been this summer but last February, and it was clearly still the only thing on her mind.

  I had walked around the room during the unplanned art time, desperate for any chance to connect with Riley while stopping and talking to each and every kid, but when I’d gotten to her drawing, I hadn’t been able to look away.

  She’d chosen a green glitter pen. It sparkled and shone despite the gray and ominous clouds, and I knew from the pictures in the newspaper so many months ago, the sun had been shining the day they buried her parents.

  But damn… the poor thing.

  My phone on my desk rang, startling me and I dropped the paper.

  “Hello, this is —”

  “What’s wrong with Riley?” a deep voice snapped through the phone line.

  “Mr. Wilkes?” I asked, fumbling. Of course it was him. He’d called me back! Finally!

  “Noah. What’s wrong with Riley?”

  Goodness. His voice was tight and quick like I’d done something to anger him and it took me a second to recover as I said, “Well, nothing—”

  “You said something happened.”

  Goodness. No wonder why he was a lawyer. He wouldn’t let me get a word in edgewise. “Noah,” I tried again and cleared my throat. “Noah, she’s not hurt. But I’m concerned about some of her behavior. I’d really it like it if we could schedule some time for you to come in so we can speak.”

  He was silent for a few minutes and then cursed, startling me further. “I can’t today. But I can tomorrow.”

  “Okay. How about after school?”

  “Fine. I’ll see you at three.”

  “Um, school isn’t over until three-thirty.”

  A heavy sigh fell through the line followed by another curse. “Fine then. I’ll be there at three-thirty. Mrs…?”

  His voice trailed off. It took me a second to realize he’d already forgotten my name. “Miss Frazier. Lauren. I’ll—”

  He cut me off again. “Tomorrow,” he clipped and hung up.

  I stared at the phone’s receiver for way too long after it’d gone silent. Suddenly having an appointment with Noah Wilkes didn’t seem like such a great idea if he was going to cut me off at every opportunity and spend it cursing.

  “Way to go, Lauren,” I muttered to myself, hanging up the phone. “You’ve somehow screwed up twice today.”

  Three

  Noah

  * * *

  I wiped sweat off my forehead with the back of my forearm. Heat was already beating down on me and it was only seven o’clock in the morning. Some days I felt like a dick for getting up so early to renovate the house I’d bought when I’d moved Riley back to Carlton. It was summer, though, and if I didn’t get work done before it reached the mid-nineties, I would never get this house finished the way I wanted.

  Life really knew how to give a swift kick to a man’s balls. Six months ago, I was living my life by my rules. I was a lion in the courtroom, having accumulated far more wins than losses than any other attorney in my firm. I was on track to make partner and living the life I’d always wanted.

  Then life swept me off my feet and didn’t only send me reeling, but my entire family as well.

  It wasn’t just that we lost Amanda and my brother-in-law, Jake, it was that I lost the only woman outside my own mom who meant a damn thing to me. I lost the woman who could hold me accountable, tell me when I was being a dumbass, and somehow…they really thought I’d be the best guy to take care of their daughter.

  Surely when they were filling out their will they figured nothing would ever happen to them if their first choice was to leave me—the guy who didn’t know jackshit about being a parent—with a girl who had more needs than an accused man with a pile of evidence stacked against him.

  I dropped my arm to my side and surveyed the kitchen that looked more like a wrecking ball had plowed through it than a place where meals could eventually be cooked.

  Seriously, Amanda. What were you thinking?

  Probably that they’d never have to rely on me, and that thought always socked a punch to my gut.

  I was the cool uncle, the man who showed up every few weeks with a lollipop and took Riley out for too much ice cream too close to her bedtime. I was the guy who gifted her movies too old for her to watch and sent her flowers on her birthday b
ecause what in the hell did little girls like?

  I had no fucking clue.

  And now I was raising her.

  People had never been my strong suit. Facts were. Puzzles were. Solving problems and needing square pegs to go into square holes and round pegs into round ones was where I excelled.

  People? Especially kids? That was a whole school I never attended.

  I wasn’t a complete dick.

  I didn’t expect this adjustment to be easy. I didn’t expect Riley to do as she was told, pick herself up and move on.

  I’d lost the one person I talked to all day, every day without fail. I fucking missed Amanda. Jake, too, because even though I didn’t like the guy when they first started dating, he was damn good for my sister.

  And logically, I knew Riley lost her parents. I was a poor substitute for either of them. Kids didn’t exactly like the idea of “It’s done. Nothing you can do about it. Move on.”

  It killed me more and more every day when she’d look at me, the light dimming from her eyes more every morning and as the months dragged on, she talked less and less.

  Hell, currently, I could barely get Riley to answer questions that required more than a yes or no answer. On a good day, I’d get an “I don’t care” or “I don’t know” in response.

  I lived for the good days when she’d say those three words. Gone was the girl who could prattle incessantly about princesses and princes and how she was going to grow up to be one.

  In her place, was a shell of the beautiful and vibrant girl my niece used to be.

  And it was all my damn fault.

  I was failing at all of it and I didn’t fail. Unfortunately it didn’t matter to Riley one damn bit how successful and victorious I was. She lost her mom and dad, and I had no clue how to make it better for her.

  I lifted my arm and swung the hammer at the kitchen countertop. I’d rip this damn room out by the end of the day if it killed me. A chunk of the Formica countertop splintered off and I ducked before it slashed across my face.