What the Heart Knows. Margaret Daley

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hanging back but watching her. “You could give Mark a ride home, Aaron.”

      “Sure, I can do that. Are you sure I can’t help you?”

      “Yes, I’m sure.” The pain in her shoulder eased its intensity. With her right arm she maneuvered herself to her knees.

      Jared supported her around the waist. “Take it easy.”

      As the teenagers began to scatter, she said, “Oh, I plan on taking it slow and easy.”

      “I had no idea you’d go to such lengths to get out of playing volleyball.”

      The teasing light in Jared’s eyes made her laugh. “I told you I don’t do sports.” She observed the quickly disappearing crowd of teens. “As soon as Aaron’s been gone five minutes, I’m driving home. I have no intentions of going to the hospital. I’m fine.” She tried to move her shoulder and groaned.

      “I can see that.”

      Jared moved so close she wondered if he could hear her heart pounding. “Some rest, ice, and I’ll be good as new.”

      “Appease this doctor and let me take you to check your shoulder out.”

      “But what about my car?”

      “You can get it tomorrow. I’ll even come by and give you a ride to the church to get it. I won’t sleep well tonight knowing you may be in pain because I persuaded you to play volleyball.”

      His touch on her arm drew her gaze upward to his face. The plea in his eyes and the ache in her shoulder finally caused her to nod.

      “See, I told you there wasn’t anything to worry about. I’ll be as good as new in a few days.” Kathleen rolled her shoulder to prove her point. A stab of pain shot down her arm, and she winced. “Okay, maybe it will be a little longer than that.”

      Jared pulled into her driveway and switched off the engine. “Still, I’m glad you got it X rayed. I feel better knowing for sure and the medication should help you.”

      “Do you want to come in for a cup of coffee? Decaf or I’d be up all night.”

      “Sure. Mrs. Davis doesn’t turn into a pumpkin until at least nine o’clock.”

      Kathleen slid from the car, trying to hold her upper body still as she moved. “How hard was it to find Mrs. Davis?”

      “Hard. A good housekeeper is not easy to come by. She isn’t too bad. My children are safe with her, and she performs her job efficiently.”

      “But?”

      “But she isn’t the warmest person around. And right now Hannah needs a womanly touch, which she isn’t going to get with Mrs. Davis.”

      Kathleen inserted her key into the lock and opened her door. “What about your mother-in-law?”

      His expression tensed into a frown. “Not much help there. She doesn’t have much to do with Terry and Hannah. We see her for special occasions like birthdays and the holidays.”

      “I’m sorry to hear that.” She placed her purse on the table in the entry hall. “Come on into the kitchen while I put the coffee on.” As she scooped the coffee into the filter, she continued, “I can help, especially with Hannah.”

      He offered her a smile that eased the tension from him. “Thanks. I may take you up on that.”

      “Don’t forget I promised Hannah I would take her shopping. I was thinking some time this week.”

      “Fine. Whatever fits into your schedule. Hannah has talked about it, and I think she’s actually excited, which is a first since I usually have to drag her kicking and screaming to shop for clothes.”

      “That’ll change as she grows older.”

      “There’s a part of me that will be thrilled to see my daughter grow out of being a tomboy.”

      “But there’s a part that won’t be happy?”

      “Sure. The part that is dreading her first date.”

      “You aren’t the only father who feels that way. It’s a constant battle to be one step ahead of our kids.” The coffee dripping into the glass pot was the only sound Kathleen heard. She cocked her head and listened for a moment. No music coming from her son’s room. In fact, the house was awfully silent. “Which reminds me, I want to make sure Mark got home okay. I’ll be right back.”

      “Aaron’s not a bad driver, better than he is a volleyball player.”

      “I’m sure he is. But I usually hear Mark moving around. His room is right above the kitchen. It’s too quiet for my peace of mind.”

      Kathleen headed upstairs, her heart beginning to beat a shade faster. Something wasn’t right. She knocked on Mark’s door and waited a minute. Nothing. Pushing it open, she saw chaos all about her. Clothes were thrown everywhere. Drawers were left open. The bed was stripped of its linens and they lay on the floor beside it as though her son now slept on the carpet. She moved into the middle of the room, shaking her head. A year ago her son wouldn’t have had any of his belongings out of place. Like everything else in his life, that had changed, too.

      Kathleen started to leave but caught a glimpse of his drawing pad, hidden under a pile of dirty clothes. Chewing on her bottom lip, she reached for the paper, hesitated, then snatched it up. Quickly before she changed her mind, she flipped through the pictures, afraid to look at what her son was drawing, and yet compelled to check this aspect of his life out. Maybe there were answers in his drawings that would help her.

      The first drawing was of their old house. Another was of his guitar. Picture after picture seemed perfectly normal with nothing unusual portrayed. Relief shimmered through her, and she returned the pad to its hiding place.

      When Kathleen left the bedroom, any relief she felt evaporated as she made her way down the stairs. Where was Mark? It was only eight o’clock and he was sixteen, but still she couldn’t help the worry that swelled inside her, especially after his erratic behavior two nights ago.

      She hurried into the kitchen and went straight to the phone, punching in her sister’s number. “Is Mark over there?” She couldn’t keep the urgency from her voice.

      “No. Shane came home a few minutes ago and went to his room. Do you want me to ask him if he knows where Mark is?”

      Kathleen’s grip on the receiver tightened until pain radiated down her arm. “Please.” When she heard Laura put the phone down, Kathleen glanced toward Jared.

      “What’s wrong?”

      “Mark wasn’t in his room. No note on the table in the entry hall telling me where he is. He knows he’s supposed to let me know where he’s going if I’m not here when he leaves.” Panic nibbled at the edges of her composure as all kinds of thoughts—none good—swirled in her mind. Again, as so many times of late, she felt her life spinning out of control. Her life felt much like the chaos in her son’s room.

      “Kathleen, Shane doesn’t know where he is. Aaron dropped him off at

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