The Deputy's New Family. Jenna Mindel

       Chapter Four

      Come up with a plan. Nick had said that days ago and Beth had one. It had been slow coming together between progress reports for her other students and running it by her principal, but she’d done it. She’d even made up a progress booklet for Nick.

      She riffled through the papers on her desk—Corey’s papers from his previous school. Corey’s old school reports were as confusing as they were disheartening. The transcripts showed a downward spiral that started before Corey’s mom had died and then plummeted steeply afterward.

      “Poor kid.” Beth felt that undeniable pull for the boy.

      Corey had been jostled between special reading groups, and he’d been labeled with emotional problems that were never clearly explained. Had no one seen through to the obvious? Corey didn’t have a handle on phonics. Somewhere along the line, he’d missed the mark and by the time his mother had died, his emotional stresses had kicked in and his dwindling grasp on vowel sounds and rules had slipped. It was no wonder he got lost along the way. He’d never mastered how to identify the trail markers.

      Well, Beth knew a few things about marking trails. She’d start with flash cards, games, work sheets, whatever it took to get Corey more familiar with identifying sounds. And she had a stack of books for Nick so he could continue working with Corey at home in the evenings and on his days off. If he spent half an hour every day reading with Corey, it’d make a difference.

      Beth’s mom even promised to help where she could. The only variable she couldn’t predict was Corey’s reaction. His willingness to learn was key.

      She put away the sensitive papers, locked the drawer of her desk and then scooped up her stuff. Exiting her classroom, she spotted the other second-grade teacher, Julie, calling it a day, as well.

      “So, Beth, are you up for sailing the Manitous again this year?” Julie’s husband was a hotshot attorney with one sweet sailboat. Gerry was more than the average amateur sailor. Sailing with them had become a tradition and a fun way to celebrate the end of the school year and the start of summer.

      “I sure am.” Beth nodded. “Count me in, only please, no setups this year.”

      Julie frowned. “Oh, come on, he wasn’t so bad.”

      Beth tipped her head. Julie and Gerry had arranged a blind date with a guy from Gerry’s office. He was way too short and arrogant besides.

      Julie smiled. “You bring someone, then.”

      Beth’s mind immediately shifted to Nick, but that brown uniform he wore made her shake away any thoughts of sunset sailing with the handsome redhead. “We’ll see.”

      When Beth made it across the street to her mom’s house, she was armed with phonics lessons. Walking into the living room, she expected to find Corey in front of the TV. Instead he sat at the dining room table across from her mom. The two playing a game of Battleship.

      “B-3.” Corey’s hair hung in his eyes.

      Beth’s fingers itched to brush the kid’s bangs back, but she remained quiet and watched.

      “Nope. Miss.” Her mom wore an evil-looking grin. “My turn. F-8.”

      Corey’s face crumpled into irritation. “Hit.”

      “I’m home.”

      Neither one acknowledged her. They were caught up in the game. And it was close. Each had only one ship left, and Beth’s mom dove in for the kill on Corey’s big destroyer. It made Beth smile as she slipped upstairs to change into jeans.

      When she returned, Corey had put away the pieces while her mom started dinner. “Who won?”

      The look of disgust on Corey’s face clued her in.

      “Sorry. She always beat me, too. Are you ready to play some different games?”

      The boy looked cautious. “Like what?”

      “Sound games.” Beth spread out her flash cards.

      “That’s schoolwork, isn’t it?”

      Beth met the boy’s wary eyes. “Did your dad tell you that he asked me to be your tutor?”

      “Yeah.”

      “Did he say why?”

      Corey looked down. “Because I don’t read good.”

      Beth touched his hand and gave him a big smile. “You will, Corey. I promise, in time you will read much better.”

      He looked at her with a lot of doubt in his face, but she spotted hope shining in his eyes.

      * * *

      Thursdays after school, Beth helped staff a kids’ art program. She milled between tables, helping where needed but mostly watching kids create. Corey sat at a table littered with paper, crayons and markers he hadn’t touched.

      Grace Cavanaugh worked beside him drawing a house on a piece of yellow construction paper. She cut out trees made of brown and green paper and then pasted them on the yellow. She glued cotton balls for clouds.

      “Don’t you like to color?” the little girl asked.

      Corey shook his head.

      “Why?”

      He shrugged.

      “This is our house. It’s for my mom.” Grace stuck the paper in Corey’s face.

      “My mom died.” Corey flicked the edge of the paper away.

      Beth sucked in a breath, but she remained quiet and watched the two kids interact.

      Grace set her paper down and tipped her head. She considered what Corey had said for a few seconds and then shrugged her shoulders. “That’s okay. I don’t have a dad. Maybe you’ll get a new mommy. Want me to help you get started? I know where everything’s at.”

      Corey nodded.

      “C’mere, then.”

      Beth’s eyes stung when Corey followed Gracie to the paper bins. She directed him to pick a color and he did. And then he followed her back to the table while she rattled off a host of things he could draw and she promised to help. God bless little Gracie. She’d broken into Corey’s shell.

      “Hey, Beth, got a minute?” Diane, their school counselor, leaned against the door.

      Beth scanned the room for the other teacher helping out. She spotted her assembling the supplies they’d need for tonight’s lesson in painting. The kids were busy chatting and hanging up their backpacks. She could duck out for a few. “Yeah, sure.”

      Diane nodded toward the hall.

      Beth gave the other teacher a heads-up and then followed Diane out of the art room. “What’s on your mind?”

      “I understand you’re tutoring one of your students. The new boy, Grey,