and let someone shoot him.” She took a steadying breath. “I guess that was all it took. Cory bloodied his nose. Another kid joined in and the next thing you know—”
“You’ve got a brawl.”
“Yes.”
“Was Cory hurt?”
Her lips tightened. “Minor scrapes. Bruises. The other boys the same. Nothing of a serious nature...but enough to get him suspended.”
“Were the other boys suspended, too?” To her relief, he sounded as if he was in Cory’s corner, making sure he hadn’t been singled out for punishment.
“One day. Cory got two because both times he threw the first punch.”
Gray let out a gust of breath. “He must have been pushed to the max. My gut instinct is that Cory isn’t a violent-natured kid.”
So did that mean he was willing to help Cory?
She toyed with the coffee mug in front of her. She hadn’t taken a single sip. Grayson’s mug, likewise, sat neglected.
“I spent the afternoon in the school counselor’s office.”
“Does Cory understand the ramifications of what he did? That you had to miss work?”
“I explained that I have to take those hours off without pay or use vacation time that I could have otherwise spent doing something fun with him.”
“And he apologized?”
“To me? Yes. And to his principal and the lunchroom monitor.” She leaned back in the booth seat, recalling the humiliation of the meeting in the counselor’s office. “A couple of the other boys have been in trouble before. Their parents shrugged the whole thing off when I made him apologize to them. It was almost as if they were proud their kids held their own in a fight that warranted a suspension. But I’m ashamed.”
“You weren’t the one who landed a punch.”
“No, but I should have been more alert to how deeply the loss of his father has impacted him. It’s been several months since he’s cried about anything, no matter how upset. Even today, not a single tear. He’d seemed to be adjusting. Did well in kindergarten, but now...”
“Sounds like the other boys know what buttons to push.”
She solemnly traced a finger along the rim of the coffee mug. “Unfortunately.”
“So what do you have in mind? For Cory and me, I mean.”
A young, dark-haired waitress paused at their table and the conversation momentarily halted. The teenager appeared surprised that neither had touched their aromatic brew, but discreetly departed without comment.
Elise pushed her coffee aside. “Miss Gilbert and Mrs. Clifton, his counselor, suggested I take you up on your offer to spend time with him. To see if a responsible male can instill positive reinforcement before—” she paused, then forced the words “—before we seek professional help. I don’t have the financial means for a psychologist, and my insurance doesn’t cover that type of thing. Of course, I’ll do whatever it takes to help Cory, take out a loan if necessary, but—”
“Elise.” Grayson rested a palm on the table, his expression earnest. “When Miss Gilbert approached me about entering the mentoring program, I was dead set against it. I’m not a trained counselor. I’m not even involved in the youth programs at church. I’m not qualified to handle a situation like this.”
“But you offered.” Why did she have to sound so desperate? So needy? What was she doing here begging this man for assistance?’
“I know I did, but—”
“But that was before he turned—” she almost choked on the word “—violent.”
The flattened hand on the table fisted. “Decking a kid who was asking for it is unfortunate. There’s a definite anger control issue coming into play. But Cory isn’t, in my estimation, turning violent.”
She let out a soft sigh of relief. “When you made the offer last night, you must have thought you could help.”
Gray grimaced. “It’s a long story which I won’t go into, but I know of a situation... I learned over the weekend how growing up without a father can affect someone.”
The recently discovered brother and sister he’d mentioned earlier?
“So you see,” he continued, “I’d come back home with my Superman cape on, thinking I could make a difference for Cory by bringing him the hat and hanging out with him. But I’m not educationally qualified for something like this.”
“You need a degree to hang out with a six-year-old? Play games? Help with homework? Just talk?”
“No, but—”
She leaned forward, swallowing her pride as she appealed on her son’s behalf. “He admires you. Looks up to you. Maybe he’ll open up and tell you why he’s angry with the world.”
Grayson tapped a finger on the table, his frank gaze meeting hers. “I can already tell you why he’s angry with the world.”
He knew? It was so simple and she’d missed it?
“Why?”
“Because the world he trusted betrayed him. Turned itself upside down. Took his dad away from him and probably took you away from him in a number of ways as well.”
There had to be more to it than that. A reason why his anger was coming out now instead of in kindergarten. She quietly studied him, then took a stab in the dark. “For someone who isn’t degreed in kid psych, you seem sure of your assessment. Personal experience?”
He glanced away to stare out the window, beyond his own reflection, at the passing traffic headlights penetrating the last dregs of twilight. “I didn’t lose my father, but my mom died in a car accident when I was seven.”
“I’m sorry.” She shouldn’t have probed into his painful past. “That had to have been difficult.”
“It was a long time ago.”
“But you still remember.” She sensed it. Suspected it might play a role in his final decision on Cory’s behalf. “You weren’t much older than Cory. Maybe you can make him understand what’s going on down deep inside.”
“Maybe. But it sounds as if he needs someone to step in immediately, before things escalate.” He paused, his expression grave. “I don’t know what it entails for training and all, but it could easily take a month or more for me to get approved for the school’s mentoring program.”
“Then we don’t go through the mentoring program.”
Something she couldn’t decipher flickered through his eyes.
His words came carefully. “It’s a standard—and wise—practice to conduct a background check. Which could take—”
“I did my own
