Second Chance Dad. Pamela Stone

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Second Chance Dad - Pamela Stone Fatherhood

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his son had been picking on the new sixth-grader.

      “Please take a seat. We’re just waiting on one more parent, and then Principal Montgomery will see you.”

      Vince stood until Hanna sat, and then folded his long, lanky frame into a matching wooden chair, placing his black-and-silver helmet on the one between them with a clunk. She inched farther away as Vince crossed one leg over the other, his giant cowboy boot further staking his claim on the center chair.

      Please God, don’t let Ashton’s asthma have flared up. Was her baby boy okay? Richard would have a hemorrhage if any harm had come to his son.

      A photocopier occupied one corner of the office, copying, collating and stapling, the noise adding to her nervousness and humiliation during the excruciating wait to go before the principal. The entire experience made her feel as guilty as if she’d been the one called to the office instead of her child.

      “So who is the other parent?” Vince asked the secretary.

      “William Baer.” She shuffled papers on her desk and looked up as the door creaked and a stocky male entered the office. Even sporting a company emblem on the breast pocket, Mr. Baer’s navy golf shirt and tan Dockers looked more respectable than Vince’s denim ensemble.

      Vince stood and shook his hand. “Hey, Will.”

      “Vince.”

      Hanna smoothed her skirt as she stood, uncomfortable with the way Mr. Baer’s gaze roamed up and down her frame.

      He extended his hand. “William Baer, ma’am. I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”

      Accepting the overly zealous handshake, she almost choked on his sweet aftershave. “Hanna Rosser. We just moved to the area this weekend.”

      “Well, I must say, you’re a most welcome asset to Marble Falls.”

      Vince cleared his throat and for the first time actually seemed to notice Hanna’s appearance. Without comment, he turned his attention back to the secretary. “So, what’s the problem?”

      She punched a button on the phone and within moments Principal Montgomery stepped out. Hanna had met the woman literally six hours earlier when she’d enrolled Ashton. Approximately forty, tiny, rather attractive in a no-nonsense sort of way. Short blond hair tucked behind her ears, black slacks and a bright-red blazer. “Please, step into my office.”

      Both men stood, allowing Hanna to walk between them before entering.

      Principal Montgomery nodded to each as they entered. “Ms. Rosser. Mr. Baer. Mr. Keegan.”

      Hanna did a double-take at the girl sitting between Ashton and the other boy, as if separating the boys so they wouldn’t throw more punches.

      Hanna rushed to Ashton, scanning him for any injuries. She gasped and ran her finger over the caked blood at the corner of his split lip. Jerking away, Ashton scowled and glanced at the other two kids.

      Taking the hint, Hanna pulled her hand back, still assessing the damage. One shirtsleeve had been half ripped from the seam, Ashton’s lip was swollen and his dark hair was a mess, but he held the ice pack in his hand, not to his lip. At least, his breathing wasn’t labored, and there was no wheezing.

      Afraid she’d embarrass him further, Hanna resisted the urge to pick the sprigs of grass out of his dark curls.

      Taking a stance behind Ashton, Hanna watched the men as they waited for the case to be presented and Principal Montgomery to deliver her verdict.

      “Who wants to speak first?” the principal asked the children.

      Mr. Baer turned to the pudgy boy. “Billy, did you start this?”

      “No way. I was just minding my own business.”

      “So who hit who?” Mr. Baer demanded.

      Billy shrugged and looked sheepish.

      Hanna couldn’t imagine that Ashton had hit him at all, much less first. “Did you strike this boy?”

      Ashton mimicked Billy’s sheepish shrug. “Not first.”

      “So who threw the first punch?” Principal Montgomery asked.

      Ashton cut his eyes sideways at the girl while Billy shuffled his dirty sneakers.

      Mr. Tight Jean’s gaze landed on the girl with the falling-down ponytail and grungy jeans. “You’re unusually quiet, Mackenzie.”

      The girl stood and placed her hands on her slim hips. She had a good three inches on either boy. “He asked for it.”

      “Nuh-uh.” Billy leaned into her face. “You hit me first. I don’t hit no girls, not unless they punch me first.”

      Ashton stood to the side while the other two faced off.

      “Mackenzie, did you hit Billy?” Vince asked.

      “He’s a yellow-bellied scum reptile, Dad. He’s always picking on people who won’t fight back just so’s he feels tough.”

      Hanna stared at father and daughter. Both tall and slender with the same sandy-blond hair, Mackenzie’s only a shade lighter than her father’s. Even their honey-tanned complexions matched.

      Mackenzie’s left eye sported a darkening bruise, but her father didn’t seem overly concerned. Hooking his thumbs in his pockets, Vince raised an eyebrow at Mackenzie. “Was Billy picking on you?” The guy’s eyes were the same blue-denim color of his jeans as he matched stares with his rebellious daughter.

      She didn’t back down. “He knows better than to mess with me, but he figured Ashton was fair game showing up in church clothes and all.” She flipped her bedraggled hair behind her shoulder and glared at Billy. “Didn’t count on getting whipped by no girl when you picked on my friend, though, did ya?”

      With a bruise on his chin, the remains of dried blood in his nose, on his upper lip and down the front of his dirty white T-shirt, Billy had obviously taken the worst of the beating. But he too held his ice pack in his hand instead of to his bruised face.

      “Billy?” his father asked, but Hanna couldn’t decide whether his perplexed expression had more to do with his boy hitting a girl or being bested by one.

      “It weren’t no fair fight. Two against one. They ganged up on me.”

      Glancing at Ashton, Hanna was stunned that her son’s bruised lip actually snarled as he took his spot beside Mackenzie, toe to toe with Billy. “Don’t mess with me if you don’t want to fight.”

      “Ashton!” What had happened to her mild-mannered son? “Sit down.”

      William turned to Vince. “So what are we going to do about this?”

      Vince slanted a grin and jabbed his fingers through his sandy hair, only tousling it more than it already was from the helmet. “Maybe you should warn your boy not to tangle with my daughter.”

      Was he insane? Holding her breath, Hanna waited for

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