“Do you have any children, Ms. Walsh?”
She paled, and for the first time, her gaze failed to meet his. “No, I don’t.”
He laughed, but it wasn’t a pleasant sound, even to his own ears. “Why am I not surprised? It’s always easy to criticize what you don’t understand, isn’t it.”
“I didn’t mean to insult you.” She reached out, as if she would touch his arm. He stepped back out of range and waited until she lowered her hand to her side.
“Well, you did. And let me tell you, being a parent is a lot harder than it looks to people who’ve never tried it. Before you start throwing around remarks like that, maybe you should get married and try having a kid of your own.”
Ignoring her horrified expression, he strode out of the room and down the hallway, and slammed through the school’s front doors. He desperately wanted to get in his car and drive as fast and as far away from this school, Ms. Walsh and all of Spokane, Washington, as possible, and never come back. But he couldn’t give up and run away.
Though he might be a miserable failure as a father, he was all Kitty had. And he was going to do right by her—whatever that meant.
Shading her eyes against the bright sunshine during recess the next morning, Abby Walsh watched Kitty Granger and felt an immediate, all-too-familiar tug at her heart. The little girl sat on the concrete step with her back against the school building, her skinny legs hugged tightly to her chest, her chin resting on her knees, lost in some lonely world only she could see.
Turning to her best friend, Erin Johnson, Abby asked, “Is it just me, or is that kid in serious trouble?”
Erin snorted, then stared at Abby in obvious disbelief. “Well, duh. That’s hardly normal behavior for a six-year-old.”
Abby allowed herself to relax a smidgeon. A child psychologist with a thriving practice, Erin always called things exactly the way she saw them. If Erin saw a problem, there must be one. Still, Abby couldn’t stop herself from asking for more reassurance. “You’re positive it’s not just me?”
“Your instincts are usually right on target when it comes to kids. Why doubt yourself now?”
“You’ve never met Kitty’s daddy, Granger the Grump.” Abby glanced back toward the playground, automatically counting heads. First graders were so unpredictable when they went outside, a teacher couldn’t be too careful about keeping track of them. “When I’ve talked to him about getting her into counseling, he’s always convinced me I was overreacting. I needed an expert opinion to be sure I wasn’t imagining anything.”
Erin inclined her head toward Kitty. “She should be playing, but she’s just sitting there all by herself. She’s not even watching the other kids, and she looks so sad, I can’t believe she’s not crying.”
“Do you think she’s clinically depressed?”
“It’s impossible to be sure without talking to her, which we both know I can’t do without her father’s permission,” Erin said with a grimace.
Abby gave Erin’s forearm a squeeze. “Just give me your best professional guess.”
“My best professional guess is that the poor child is depressed and probably has been since her mother died,” Erin replied. “She’s showing classic symptoms, and God knows she’s got a good reason to be depressed. At the very least, she needs an assessment.”
“Thanks.” Abby breathed a soft sigh of relief to have her own perceptions verified. “How do I convince her hardheaded father to change his mind about counseling?”
Erin shot her a wry smile. “Remember he’s a prosecutor, which means he’s probably a just-the-facts kind of a guy. Don’t get emotional when you talk to him or he’ll turn you off.”
Abby rolled her eyes toward heaven, then admitted, “Well, it’s already too late for that. I think his face would crack if he actually smiled. Every time I call him in for a conference, he acts like I’m imposing on his precious time. I’m telling you, he’s a royal pain in the—”
“This isn’t about you or grumpy Mr. Granger,” Erin interrupted. “It’s about a little girl who needs help.”
Wincing, Abby pretended to look behind Erin. “Where do you keep it?”
“Keep what?”
“That guilt cannon you just fired at me.”
Erin chuckled. “Hit the target, did I?”
“Dead center,” Abby confessed. “And you’re right. It’s about Kitty.”
“What happened with him yesterday?”
Abby shrugged, then looked away. “I lost my temper and sort of let my mouth run away without my brain.”
“You’ve got to stop doing that, Ab. How bad was it?”
Abby replayed the conversation, editing out his parting shot. Erin remained quiet, clearly allowing Abby’s words to echo in her mind.
Abby sighed when the silence stretched out, then finally said, “I really blew it, didn’t I.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“What can I do?”
“He might appreciate an apology.”
“Well, so would I.” Abby bit off an indignant huff. “I could have handled it better, but he wasn’t exactly Mr. Nice Guy, either.”
“Abby,” Erin chided. “What are you going to do for Kitty’s sake?”
“Well, I could write him a note tonight, and he’ll get it on Monday.”
“Why wait until Monday?” Erin said in a calm, infuriating manner. “That gives him a whole weekend to build up his defenses, and it’s exactly what a man like your grump would expect.”
“He’s not my grump,” Abby protested. “He’s not my anything, thank heaven. Where are you going with this?”
Erin fell silent for a moment, then said, “Do something he won’t expect. Push him off balance for once.”
“I’d rather push him off a cliff.” When Erin simply stared at her in response, Abby gave in. “All right, it’s hard to imagine him off balance, but I’ll bite. What won’t he expect?”
“You’ve always met with him at school,” Erin said. “Why don’t you invade his turf for a change?”
“What?” Abby yelped, appalled at the idea.
“It’s perfect. Show up at his house tonight with an apology and a plate of cookies as a peace offering.”
“He’ll throw me off his property.”
“Mr. Dignified, Public Servant Granger?” Erin laughed. “He will not. He’ll have to be gracious, and you’ll get a chance to see what he and Kitty are like at home. You can
