Chapter 36
thirty-six
DECLAN
“You can see him now,” Caleb says, walking into the waiting room where Quinn and I have been sitting in for the last couple of hours.
Quinn jumps up from her seat. “Is he okay?”
“He’s going to be okay.” He reaches for her, pulling her into a hug.
I know this is different from what happened to Quinn in New York, but I can see the memories this brings up for them in both of their eyes.
“He’s got a lot of cuts and bruises, a broken wrist, a few broken ribs, and a pretty bad concussion,” Caleb says as he pulls back from Quinn. “He won’t say what happened, only that she kept hitting him. If I had to guess, I’d say it was with a baseball bat.” Caleb’s jaw clenches, trying to control his anger.
“Oh!” Quinn gasps, hugging her arms around herself.
“Have you called Child Protective Services?” I ask, moving closer to Quinn and placing my hand at the base of her neck.
“Yeah, and the police. They’ll want to speak with both of you and Tyler when they get here.”
“What’s going to happen to him?” Quinn asks quietly.
“He’ll be here for a couple of days for observation, but after that, it will depend on if he has any other family. He may go into the foster system.”
Quinn turns to me, and I don’t have to ask what she’s thinking. A foster home is the last place he needs to be, especially at his age. He’ll likely be placed in a group home, not with a family. And for a kid who thinks no one cares about him? It could irrevocably change him for the worse. If he ends up with the right people now, there’s still time for him to come back from everything his parents have done to him. There’s still time for him to learn not all people are bad. But I fear he won't learn those valuable lessons if he doesn’t get the love and attention he needs now.
I lean forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead and lingering. “Let’s go see him. We’ll figure the rest out later.”
She nods her head against me, and we turn to follow Caleb out of the waiting room.
“He’s a little out of it from the meds, but he shouldn’t be feeling any pain,” Caleb says quietly when we make it to his room. “We’re working to get him a bed upstairs, so he shouldn’t be here much longer.” He watches us enter before he turns to leave.
Tyler’s eyes are closed when we enter the room, so we do so quietly, both of us taking the seats to the side of his bed.
“I don’t understand it,” Quinn whispers. “I’ll never understand how a parent can hit their child, no matter what, but Tyler is a good kid.”
“I know.” I reach for her hand, needing the comfort myself.
Quinn’s only known him for a few months, but she’s right, he’s a good kid. This is my third year teaching him, and while he’s always been a bit of a class clown, it wasn’t until this year his behavior warranted being written up. I chalked it up to his deadbeat of a father finally leaving him for good, but I never thought his mother would be the cause of all his strife.
Tyler and I have gotten close over the last three years. He’d stay after school most days I offered extra studio hours. He didn’t always have schoolwork, but he’d come and chat with me while I helped other students. I assumed he was trying to avoid going home so he wouldn’t have to deal with his father. As far as I knew, while his dad was a deadbeat, he never hurt Tyler. Not that it was any better, but Tyler told me his dad ignored him, acting like he didn’t exist.
I think that’s what confuses me now. Tyler had told me about his home life. How his dad was never faithful to his mom, but she always took him back. How his mom tried to keep Tyler out of his dad’s hair but that she was always around when he needed her. I wanted to do something about it, but legally, there wasn’t anything wrong with what was going on in his home. I may not have liked it, but that didn’t make it unsafe for him.
I’m struggling to understand that he told me about everything going on with his dad but didn’t tell me what his mom had been doing since his dad left. Was there more he wasn’t telling us about?
“You’re here.” Tyler’s quiet voice breaks through the silence.
“Where else would we be?” I ask softly, placing my free hand on his arm.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers so quietly I almost miss it.
“No. You don’t apologize for a single thing,” Quinn tells him sternly. “You’ve done nothing to deserve this, so no apologies.”
“Tyler, what happened?” I ask.
“I don’t know.” His voice cracks, and I see a tear trail down the side of his face.
“Just start at the beginning. What’s been going on?” I urge.
“It started after my dad left. I think my mom thought he would come back, and when he didn’t, she got so angry. She’s never been an amazing mom, but she’s also never been mean.”
“Has she ever hit you before?” Quinn asks.
Tyler hesitates, his eyes searching for mine. I gently squeeze his arm, trying to tell him it’s okay. “Just tell the truth.”
“She never hit me before Dad left,” he finally says. “It was like something flipped in her brain. She started blaming me for everything. Telling me it was my fault he cheated on her, that it was my fault he left.” He looks at me again. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“No, Tyler. I don’t want you to worry about that right now.”
“If I had just told you when you asked, I wouldn’t be here now.”
“Tyler, trust me when I say you can’t think like that. You cannot blame yourself for other people’s actions. There is no excuse for you being here right now. Nothing makes it okay.” I reach for Quinn, hearing the strain in her voice.
“She’s right. Nothing you did excuses your mother’s actions.”
There’s a knock at the door before it opens. Caleb steps into the room, Gage Flynn, a local deputy, behind him.
“Hey, Tyler, this is Deputy Flynn. He’s got a few questions for you about what happened this evening,” Caleb says before turning to Quinn and me. “Why don’t you two step into the hall with me for a minute?”
“Do they have to?” Tyler asks, trying to sit up in the bed.
“Whoa, hold up there.” I reach for Tyler when he winces in pain.
“I don’t want them to go.” Tyler ignores me and pushes himself to sit, looking at Gage.
“Okay, that’s fine. They can stay,” Gage says. “Thanks, Caleb.”
I’m glad Gage is the one here. He and I aren’t close friends, but we’ve shared a beer at Murphy’s now and then. Early on, when Tyler first started telling me about his home life, Gage was the one I talked to about my concerns. I’m glad someone who has a little understanding of his past is here, helping him.
“Tyler, it will be tough answering some of these questions. I need you to be honest, okay? You aren’t in trouble here. Remember that.”
“Okay,” Tyler says hesitantly.
“Can you tell me what happened tonight?” Gage asks as he pulls a small notebook from his pocket.
“I don’t really know. I was in my room, trying to stay out of sight, and Mom stormed in, yelling at me about Dad. She was ranting about how it was all my fault. How Dad never wanted me, but she couldn’t give me up, and how it was my fault he cheated on her.” He glances over at me before turning back to Gage. “She said I was useless, and no one cared about me, so it would be better if I weren’t here anymore.”
I see Quinn shift in her seat, bringing her hand to her mouth and holding back a sob. I reach over and place my hand on her shoulder, trying to offer her comfort.
“I thought she was just going to tell me to pack my stuff and leave, but she kept yelling. And then she smacked me. I think she was shocked she’d done it because Mom froze long enough I thought it was over, but then she started wailing on me.” He looks at me, worry on his face. “I didn’t hit back, I swear.” Tears form in his eyes. “I swear, I didn’t hit her back.”
“It’s okay.” I reach for him, placing my hand on his shoulder. “Whatever you did or didn’t do, that’s not what matters now. Just tell us what happened next.” I leave my hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly in support.
“I ran from my room, but she caught up to me in the living room. I don’t know where she got it, but she had a baseball bat.” He looks down at his lap. “She started hitting me with it. I curled up in a ball on the floor, trying to protect myself.” He looks back up, staring right at Gage. “I think I passed out because the next thing I remember is waking up on the floor. Mom was nowhere in sight, so I got out of there as quickly as I could.” He turns back to me. “I remember you told me I could always come to you if I needed help, so I walked to you.” I squeeze his shoulder again, trying to tell him he did good.
“You don’t know where your mom was when you left?” Gage asks.
“No. I didn’t hear anything, so I don’t think she was home.”
“Do you know where she would have gone?”
“She’s been spending a lot of time at Murphy’s since Dad left. Maybe she would have gone there?”
“Okay.” Gage writes something down before closing his notebook and putting it back in his pocket. “Thanks, Tyler.” Gage takes a minute to study him before he says anything else. “Your mom was wrong. People do care about you. Don’t doubt that, all right?” Gage waits for Tyler to nod before he turns to Quinn and me. “Can I talk to you both in the hall for a second?”
“Yeah,” I say. “We’ll be right back. We’re not going anywhere,” I tell Tyler, making sure he hears me before Quinn and I follow Gage out the door.
“How did no one see him walking to your house?” Quinn asks the second the door closes behind us.
“I don’t know,” I say, reaching for her hand.
“We’ll talk with his neighbors, see if they heard or saw anything.” Gage sighs, looking at me. “I know it’s been a while since we’ve talked about Tyler, but have you had any new concerns since his dad left?”
“Not like this, no,” I tell him, crossing my arms over my chest. “He’s been acting out more at school this year, but nothing truly horrible.” I shake my head, thinking for a minute. “He used to spend a lot of time with Julie Steward, but there’s been a lot of tension between them since the start of the year. I thought it was because his dad left. He never said anything about his mom.” I feel Quinn’s hand on my back, slowly rubbing circles.
“I believe you, Dec. It’s not your fault. I just wanted to make sure there isn’t anything new.” Gage turns to Quinn. “What about you, Quinn? Is there anything you noticed?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “But I haven’t known him long. I’ve noticed he’s become a little more withdrawn since I started at the school, but I didn’t know if that was completely out of the norm for him.” She glances at me before turning back to Gage. “You might want to talk to the guidance counselor. She organized a few meetings with all his teachers to discuss his behavior and attitude. I know she also tried to contact his mom a few times.”
“Okay. Thanks.” He reaches out to shake our hands. “I’ll be in touch if I have any more questions.”
“Do you know what happens with Tyler now?” Quinn asks.
“As far as I know, he has no other family, so he’ll likely go to a group home. He’s so close to turning eighteen, it’ll be hard to find a place for him.” Gage grimaces at the thought.
“Thanks, Gage.” I shake his hand one more time before he walks away.
“A group home?” Quinn says, stepping in front of me.
“I know.” I hate the idea of Tyler being lost to the system, but I’m not sure what else we can do. We might be able to petition for emergency foster placement, but is that really in Tyler’s best interest? We might not be strangers to him, and we could definitely offer him a comfortable place to land, but is that enough?
“We could do it,” she offers as if she’s reading my mind.
“Quinn.” I take her hand in mine. “I know your heart is in the right place, but is that the right answer?”
“Why not?”
“Are we really what he needs?”
“I don’t know, but we’ve got to be better than a group home. With us, he’ll have so many people in his corner.” She’s not wrong. With us, he would have the entire Marks family in his corner, and Ava too.
“It won’t be us, not technically. Only one of us would apply for emergency placement.”
“You.” She doesn’t even hesitate. “It would have to be you. You’ve been here for five years. You own a home. You look better on paper than I do.”
“Quinn—”
“No, this isn’t a dig at myself. This is me being real. I just moved here. I live in a one-bedroom cottage on my dad’s property. You have stability, which is what Tyler needs.”
“Are we really talking about this?” I ask, a little in disbelief.
“Yes.” Again, she doesn’t hesitate. She steps into me, placing her hands on my chest. “He already trusts you and looks up to you. You’re exactly what he needs.”
“We’ll look into it. We have a couple of days before he’s discharged. Let’s see what we need to do and if I even have a chance of getting emergency approval before we tell him anything.” I pull her close. “I don’t want to get his hopes up only for us to disappoint him. He’s been let down enough.”
“Okay. We’ll talk to the social worker when they get here.”