believe me, all eyes were on the two of you.”
She’d known dancing with Noah at the wedding would spark gossip all over town, but she was used to being a topic of conversation and she’d learned over the years that people believed what they wanted to believe. No amount of protest would convince them otherwise, so she’d given up trying.
“According to Nathan, all eyes were on the length of my dress,” she said, rolling her eyes. Her brother would find any excuse to criticize her. They’d once been close...but their differences made it difficult to be friends in adulthood. Her brother was a worrier and slightly uptight. He had trouble relaxing and enjoying life. She saw things differently, wanting to enjoy every moment, and short dresses and dancing the night away were a part of that. If her brother didn’t like it...too bad.
“Whatever. You have great legs. Why not show them off?”
“Would you have worn it?” She toyed with the stem of her wineglass. The opinions of others rarely mattered to her.
“No!”
“Great, so it was a T-shirt pulled down over my hips?”
Lily laughed. “Maybe. But who cares? You looked great in it... You know what? I may borrow it sometime.”
Lindsay laughed. “Yeah, right.” She couldn’t remember ever seeing Lily in a dress or anything that showed any amount of skin. She knew her friend was self-conscious about her scars, but she also suspected her ex-husband’s abuse had been more than just physical.
Heather approached the table with a round of drinks. “Compliments of the hottest man I’ve seen in here...ever,” she said, setting the drinks in front of them and nodding toward Noah.
He lifted his beer in greeting across the pool hall. Heather and Lily all but swooned. Lindsay smiled her thanks before placing her empty glass on Heather’s tray.
“Okay, so let me get this straight. You’ll dance with him, you’ll accept his free drinks, but you won’t date him.”
If she dated every man she’d ever flirted with, she’d have dated every man under forty in New Jersey.
She smiled at her friend. “Exactly.”
* * *
NOAH PARKED HIS motorcycle in the back parking lot at the community center late the next morning. The enormous space was home to a dozen after-school programs and summer camps throughout the year, and served as a host venue for weddings and holiday parties, as well. It was a staple in the community and the heart of Brookhollow.
As he took off his helmet, the door to the center opened and a tall, thin, teenage boy came out. “Hey, Dominic,” Noah said.
The kid’s face lit up. “Hey, Noah. I didn’t think you were going to make it today.”
Made him grateful he’d climbed his tired butt out of bed. “Of course. Sorry I’m late.” He secured his helmet to the bike and stripped out of his leather Rocket jacket in the hot, early June sun.
“When are you going to let me drive your bike?” Dominic asked, his admiring gaze on the Honda Cruiser.
“The day you get your motorcycle license. How did the permit test go?”
Dominic’s shoulders sagged. “Not so great.”
What a drag. He’d been hoping the boy’s third try would be a success. “Don’t worry about it. Next time. You got your road rules book here?”
Dominic nodded unenthusiastically.
“Great. We’ll work on it again today.” Wrapping an arm around the kid’s shoulders, he ushered him back inside the community hall.
To his right, a group of volunteers played basketball with some twelve-to fourteen-year-olds and on his left, at the computer stations, members of the Turnaround program were helping an older teen update his résumé.
Since starting the program nine months ago, they had placed eight kids with local jobs. Noah prayed the government funding for the program continued beyond this first term the city had agreed to as a test.
Brookhollow was a quiet, peaceful town, but that didn’t mean there was enough work to go around and that nobody had any problems.
Noah had grown up in a small town very much like this. He knew firsthand what it was like to be a kid from a family that never had enough. And to have parents who...well...who didn’t know how to cope with raising a child. He swallowed hard, squeezing Dominic’s shoulder before dropping his hand.
This program was there for kids who needed the support they weren’t getting at home, kids who were deemed troublemakers by school officials and who were never given a chance to move beyond their circumstances.
From inside the office, Joanne was signaling for him. He nodded and turned to Dominic. “Why don’t you find a table and get started? I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“Okay, but I really think a hands-on approach would help me learn better.”
“Nice try, but your road test will be done with a car, not a motorcycle. Not exactly the same thing.”
Inside the office, Joanne Kelly greeted him with a warm smile, then an immediate, “Bad news.”
“Fantastic, I love starting the day with bad news. Means the day can only get better. Let’s hear it.”
Picking up a letter from the desk, she handed it to him. “The National Crime Prevention Strategy has denied our application for funding.”
“Again? I thought we jumped through all the hoops this time. How can they continue to deny the funding? This program is designed to do exactly what they’re hoping to accomplish at a community level—reduce the number of kids in the criminal justice system.”
Noah took the letter and scanned it quickly for the reason. “Lack of sufficient regulations on the program.” Again.
He tossed the paper onto the desk and sat in the chair across from Joanne. “I don’t know what else to do. We have the New Jersey parole officers on board making sure these kids get to the programs three times a week to meet with their mentors...you’re on staff now...” He shrugged.
“I’m a volunteer on loan from Mentor’s partnership program. You need full-time staff. A social worker would be a good start...a real teacher to oversee the tutoring...”
“These kids’ grades have improved significantly with the help of mentors. And I’ve tried to get real teachers involved. No one has the extra time to give to the program,” he said harshly.
Noah saw through the excuses: no one saw the value in the program. How was that even possible? He was convinced they were helping the kids who’d enrolled.
Weren’t they?
He shook his head in disgust. Now was not the time to start having doubts. He would just have to find a better way to prove that the community center mentorship helped change lives for the better.
“Hey, I’m not the enemy here,” Joanne
