9. Alana
ALANA
I sit a little way off from the family, at a bench under a maple tree. I’m pretending to look at some files on my knee, but I’m watching Amos throw the ball with Sam. From a distance, they could be any father and son.
Amos told me that Sam looks a lot like his brother at that age, and Amos has the same sandy hair.
As far as first meetings go, it's been good.
In the brief meetings I've had with Sam since the accident, he's been quiet. Understandably so. He's been through a lot.
The state provides some counseling for kids in his position. Losing a parent is a lot for a child to deal with. Then being thrust out of your home into a whole new world. He must be terrified. I hope to hell Amos can come through for him.
I glance at my watch. The hour is almost up; it's time to go.
I pack up my folder and shove it into my backpack, then walk over to the family. Amos glances up at me as I approach, and I try to ignore the fluttering in my stomach.
Sam throws the ball and Amos, distracted by looking at me, misses it. It hits him square on the shoulder. He gives an exaggerated wince. Sam laughs, then covers his mouth. There's a flash of doubt on his face, like he isn't sure he's allowed to make that sound.
Amos laughs with him and goes over to ruffle his hair.
The look of longing on Sam's face as he gazes up at Amos has my heart wrenching.
I wonder if this boy has ever had a father figure in his life.
We know little to nothing about his mother.
I uncovered some diaries in the apartment that might have clues, but I'm unsure if I should hand them over to Amos. They seem too personal.
I find myself wishing again that this will all work out for Sam. But for that to happen, Amos has a long way to go.
"It's time to go, Sam."
His face shuts down, and he nods once.
Shona comes over and hugs him tightly, blinking away the tears in her eyes. Her husband puts out a hand and Sam shakes it stiffly, looking up with fright at the retired Rear Admiral.
But it's Amos that Sam turns to as we're about to get in the car.
"Will I see you again?" His voice is so soft I barely hear him, and the hope in it makes my heart squeeze.
Amos crouches down, so he's at eye level with Sam. "Yes, buddy." He ruffles Sam's hair. "I'll see you again real soon."
I walk to the car with Sam and help him into the back seat. I close the door and spin around to find Amos waiting for me.
"I have questions."
I raise my eyebrows. "I need to get Sam home. I don't want to talk about the situation in front of him."
Amos nods. "Sure. Can I follow you home?"
His eyes drop to my chest. Then to my lips. Heat flashes through my body at his look. I know he just wants to talk to me about Sam. But damn, what is it about being around this man that makes me hot and flustered all over?
"No," I say quickly. "You can't come to my house." I don't want him coming around when Kyra is there with my neighbor looking after her. "I can meet you somewhere."
"The Landing." He mentions a bar in the center of town. "I'll buy you dinner."
I shake my head. "You're persistent. I'll meet you to talk, but I'm not having dinner with you."
"Not yet," he says softly.
Thirty minutes later, we're seated opposite each other in a booth at the Landing. Amos nurses a beer, and I sip a cool glass of soda.
"What did you want to talk about?"
"I don't know anything about kids." He runs a hand through his hair. "You and my parents were right. I'm not prepared for this. I couldn't even get Sam to talk. He didn't eat any of the snacks. What do kids talk about? What do they eat? What do they like to do?"
There's a panicked note to his voice. He sounds like any concerned new parent.
"I thought it would be easy, but five minutes with Sam and I don't know what I'm doing. I want to do this, but I'm going to need help. Tell me what I need to do, and I'll do it."
He's determined, and I like that.
"First, start with the basics. He's going to need his own room to sleep in. You're going to need to be able to feed him, provide for him, and support him."
Amos nods his head with a grim look on his face. "That I can do. I'm getting an honorable discharge from the military, but I'll find a new job. I've got a spare room, but it needs to be set up for a child."
"Good. And you're going to need to do some parenting classes."
"Come again?" His eyes widen. "Parenting classes?"
I laugh at the look of panic on his face. "You're about to take on a six-year-old who's experienced trauma. Don't you think a little training will help?
He runs a hand through his hair. "Yeah, of course. Sign me up. Whatever it takes."
I gaze at Amos and decide about the diaries.
"There's something else you should know. In the belongings we collected from the apartment, we found a stack of exercise books."
I pull the exercise books out of my purse and plunk them on the table. There are ten of them and all with worn edges.
Amos frowns "Are they Sam's?"
"That's what we thought, but it's not his writing. It's an adult scrawl. Sam says he saw his mom writing in them."
"Diaries?" Amos sits up. "Is there anything about Jake?"
I shake my head. "I haven’t read them. They belong to Sam now, and if they were his mom's diary's then they’re private."
"Fuck that. I want to know about her and my brother." He pulls the stack of book toward him and opens the first page.
A women's cursive scrawl glides across the page. Amos stares at the writing. He closes the cover, and when he looks up at me, his expression is troubled.
"I want to know who Sam's mom was and what her relationship with Jake was like. But you're right. Those are private." He runs a hand through his hair. "I just want it all to make sense. I want to know why she never contacted Jake."
My gaze rests on the stack of exercise books. The top one has a dark ring that could be coffee. He looks so unhappy, the grieving brother, that I want to help.
"I could read through them," I offer. "See if there are any clues about Jake."
He looks up at me with hope in his eyes. "Would you?"
I nod before I have a chance to change my mind. He's grieving, and if I can help give him closure and give him answers that he may one day be able to pass on to Sam, then I'll do it.
"Sure. It might take me a while, but I'll see what I can find."
"Thank you." He leans forward. "And once all this is done, then we can have that dinner."
I roll my eyes at him, trying to hide my smile. "And you've got to stop asking out every woman you see."
He leans across the table, so only a few inches separate us. I feel his warm breath on my cheek.
"I'm not asking out any woman, Alana. I'm asking out one woman."
He holds my gaze and I swallow hard, trying to compose myself.
"I'll send you the details of the classes."
I knock my soda back and stand up. We cannot spend time around each other, or my defenses are going to be worn down.