she hugged her arms to her. So cold.
“Mark, you don’t have to play music if you don’t want to.”
“I want to go home.” He uncurled himself and pushed to his feet, his movements jerky.
Kathleen rose, taking that time to school her features into a calm facade that was no indication of what she was really feeling inside—fear, fear that she was losing her son, fear that something was going on beyond teenage rebellion. “I think you should see someone about—”
He whirled on her. “No! I told you no doctors.” Anger lined his face, his heavy dark brows slashed downward. “I’m fine. There’s nothing wrong with me. I don’t want to play. That is all.”
“But you destroyed your guitar, the one your father gave you.”
“It’s my guitar. I can do what I want with it.”
Again his expression smoothed into a bland one. For a fleeting moment Kathleen wondered if she had imagined her son’s anger. Now he looked as though nothing had happened in the recreational hall, as if every day he smashed his favorite things.
“Mark, please let me help you.”
He stiffened, pressing his lips together, but his expression remained neutral.
She thought of Mark at his father’s funeral, supporting her through the ordeal. All Kathleen wanted to do was pull her son into her arms and hold him. She ached with the need, but his rigid stance forbade it. What had she done wrong that she couldn’t reach her son when he needed her the most?
Footsteps sounding on the stone path drew her attention. Jared approached from the parking lot.
Mark stared at him. “I’m going to the car.” He rushed past her and Jared.
Kathleen started forward.
“Wait. Give him a moment.”
“Why? He—”
Jared stepped in front of her, blocking her path. “You need it.”
The tight rein she had on her composure broke. Tears streamed down her face, unchecked. She couldn’t seem to stop them. She rarely cried, and now she was crying in front of a practical stranger. “I don’t know what to do anymore.” She paused, inhaling deeply. “These past six months have been so difficult. He’s not sleeping like he used to. He often roams the house at night. He’s not eating well, either. In fact, this past week I’ve hardly seen him eating at all. Last night I saw him crying during a movie that was funny.” Swiping at her tears, she hiccuped.
His eyes showing his concern, Jared lifted his hand toward her but stopped. Instead he removed his handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to her. “It could be any number of things. I can run some tests and see what I find. Call the office Monday and set up an appointment.”
“That’s the problem. When I tried to get him to see his doctor in Shreveport, Mark refused. He disappeared the day I was going to take him to the doctor. Talk about a scare.” Kathleen raked her trembling fingers through her hair. “I even said something a few days ago about finding a new doctor in town and he stomped from the room, muttering he didn’t need one.”
“How does your son feel about the move to Crystal Springs? Could his recent change in behavior be because of it?”
She shook her head, brushing the cotton handkerchief across her cheeks, trying to remove all evidence of her lost composure. “We had a long talk before we moved and he told me he didn’t care one way or another. The last few months in Shreveport he didn’t do much with any of his friends.” She peered away, unsure of anything concerning her son of late. “I suppose it could be. I didn’t think he minded.”
“I understand from your sister your husband died not long ago?”
“Eighteen months.”
“His death was sudden, wasn’t it?”
“An accident at work. At first, I thought Mark’s unusual behavior might be because of his close relationship to his dad, but now I don’t know. I know teens can be moody and difficult, but I think this is more than that.”
“You might be right. If he won’t come in, I’m not sure what I can—” His eyes brightening, Jared snapped his fingers. “No, I have an idea. I’m the director of the youth group. Maybe if you can get him involved in the group, I can observe him indirectly. That might be a start.”
“I know his cousin is part of the youth group. I might be able to get him to attend a meeting. After that, I don’t know.” After wiping her face one last time, Kathleen balled the handkerchief in her fist, then stuffed it into her pants’ pocket to clean later.
“There’s a meeting Sunday evening. Maybe if he gets to know me, he’ll feel more comfortable with coming to see me.”
“As you can see, I don’t have many choices. I’m willing to try anything,” she murmured, for once feeling a ray of hope. Maybe that was the answer.
“I’ll walk you to the car. I’ll say something to Mark about the meeting Sunday evening.”
“He used to be very involved in the youth group in Shreveport until a few months ago. I hope you can convince him to come.”
“If not, I’ll think of something.” Jared fell into step next to her on the stone path leading to the parking lot.
“Frankly, where my son is concerned, I don’t know what to think anymore. Right after his father died he was so strong. He was a wonderful comfort to me.” Guilt wove its way through all the other feelings she was dealing with. Everywhere she’d gone in Shreveport, she’d been reminded of her deceased husband. All her friends had been John’s friends, as well. It had just gotten too painful for her to stay. She’d longed to be around her family; to renew the feeling of belonging she’d had when she’d lived in Crystal Springs as a child. Had she been wrong to leave Shreveport and her old life behind? To want some control back in her life? Had she driven her son to this behavior?
At the edge of the parking lot Kathleen glanced toward her silver Taurus, relieved to see Mark leaning against its hood with his arms crossed over his chest and his shoulders hunched. “For a while he talked to his school counselor, but even that stopped six months ago.”
“Let me see what I can do.”
She paused two rows away from her car and faced Jared. “My sister has a great deal of faith in your ability. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help.”
He offered her a reassuring smile that brightened his blue eyes. “The reason I became a doctor was because I wanted to help others when they were in trouble. Mark is in trouble. If there is a medical reason, I want to find it and make things better for him. If there isn’t a physical reason for his behavior, I still may be able to help him. I have to try.”
There was a touch of desperation in his last sentence that caused Kathleen to wonder what had put it there. She wished she knew him well enough to ask. “Thank you for being here.”
“You don’t need to thank me. It was the right thing to do.”
Dressed in a long-sleeved
