too, son. You too.” He patted Dylan’s back. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too.” Dylan drew back. “I’m really sorry about Aunt Virginia.”
Ty’s eyes filled. “She was one of a kind. Lord, I loved that woman.”
“Everyone who met her did, too,” Dylan said. Aunt Virginia had had one of those larger-than-life personalities. The kind of woman who welcomed perfect strangers into her home and fed them pork and beans on a Saturday night. The kind of woman who knitted blankets for the homeless and baked pies for the poor. She’d been the lifeblood of the community center. Even though the rooms were still teeming with activity, it felt as if some of the air had gone out of the space, but Dylan didn’t want to say that. “Looks like the place is as busy as ever. And exactly the same as when I was here.”
Uncle Ty chuckled. “You know me. Change is a four-letter word. I don’t like to mess with a winning formula.” Then his uncle sobered and draped an arm over Dylan’s shoulder, lowering his voice as the two of them walked toward the office. “Thank God you came when I called. I can’t manage this place on my own. You know Virginia—she was my right and my left hand here. I’m just...lost without her.”
Dylan could see that in his uncle’s eyes, hear it in his voice. He’d never known anyone who loved another person as much as Virginia and Ty had loved each other. They’d had movie love, the kind you only saw in some Nicholas Sparks flick. And now, Virginia was gone, and Uncle Ty looked like he was marooned on a deserted island.
“Whatever you need,” Dylan said. “I’ve got a couple weeks where I don’t have to be anywhere. I can start on some of the maintenance or—”
Ty drew in a deep breath. “Actually, I want you to work with the kids. At least for today. I’m just having a...well, a rough afternoon and I can’t do it.”
The statement hung in the stale air of Ty’s office. For a second, Dylan thought he hadn’t heard his uncle right. “Work...with the kids? Me?”
Uncle Ty ran a hand through his thinning hair. His face was lined, his eyes tired. His usual smile had disappeared, as if he’d lost it and couldn’t remember where it was. “I just can’t. It’s not that I don’t still love all these kids and love my job, but it’s too much right now. How am I supposed to tell these kids how to get their lives on track when mine is so far off the rails? I’m doing all I can to manage the books and clean the bathrooms once in a while.”
“Uncle Ty, I don’t have a degree in child psychology like Aunt Virginia, or a background in social work like you do.”
“No, but you have life experience. And sometimes, that’s what gets through to the tough cases better than any therapy you throw at them.”
Yeah, he had life experience, but it wasn’t the kind he figured these kids should have. Like running away from home at seventeen. Hitchhiking from here to California, funding his way with odd jobs. He’d been picked up by the cops a few times—mainly for loitering and underage drinking—and wound his way around the country ever since, never staying in any one place long. He’d worked fishing charters in Florida, potato farms in Idaho, building projects in Minnesota. He’d feel like a hypocrite if he told the kids that settling down and working hard would make them happy in the end. What did he know about settling down—or finding happiness? “I don’t think I can do this, Uncle Ty. I’m not cut out for it at all.”
“I know you think that,” Ty said, “but you’re more suited than anyone I know. You grew up here—”
“And didn’t exactly turn out to be a Nobel Prize winner.”
“No, but you did turn into a hell of a good man.”
Dylan shook that off. If there was one adjective he’d use for himself, it sure wasn’t good. “Can’t you hire someone? Someone with a degree or something?”
“You know this place has always operated on a shoestring budget, Dylan. Anyone I hired would have to be working for almost nothing.” Ty put a hand on his nephew’s shoulder. “Just give it a try for a little while. For me, please?”
Dylan took another look at his uncle. Ty’s shoulders sagged low, and there was a blankness in his features that Dylan had never seen before, as if Uncle Ty was a fading photo. He’d lost the love of his life, and it had drained every bit of the color out of his world.
“All right. You can count on me, but only for a temporary gig, okay?” Dylan said, with a lot more conviction than he felt. Dylan never had been the kind of guy anyone—especially anyone in this town—had counted on for anything more than a ride to the liquor store on Friday night.
Relief flooded Ty’s face. “Thank you, Dylan. It’s just for a few days. I need to...find myself again, you know? Without Virginia, I’m...half of who I used to be.”
Ty and Virginia had loved each other in that way most people aspired to and never found. Dylan had no such aspirations. He didn’t want to be tied down, to any one place or any one person. He was here now, but he wasn’t planning on staying one second longer than necessary.
Dylan slung his backpack into the corner beside a teetering stack of boxes and the world’s largest supply of colored construction paper. He still wasn’t sure he was cut out for this, but maybe if he gave Ty a day or two off, things would get back to normal. “Just tell me what to do.”
“The little kids are doing okay. Mavis has them making some kind of rainbow thing with beads.” Ty gestured toward the round table, headed by the generously sized, warm and affectionate African American woman. The kids gravitated to her like ants to honey, and from the smile on her face, Mavis loved every minute with them.
“She was awesome when I was a kid,” Dylan said. “I’m glad she’s still volunteering here.”
“Me, too. Though she has fewer hours to spare, since she’s running the inn with Della Barlow.” Ty nodded, then he waved toward the sofas. “Take the teen circle, will you? The rest of them will be here any minute. All you have to do is prompt them to talk, and believe me, they’ll talk your ear off. Remind them to keep it positive.”
“Uncle Ty—”
Ty put a hand on Dylan’s arm, cutting off his protest. “You’ve walked the walk and talked the talk and broken the same rules these kids have. But then you turned yourself around, got a great job with that company up in Maine... I can’t think of a better person than you to connect with them.”
His uncle had a point. If there was one thing Dylan had succeeded at in life, it was being a rebellious teenager. He’d broken pretty much every rule his parents had set forth, and quite a few put in place by the state of North Carolina. If there was a way to get away with doing the wrong thing, Dylan knew it. These kids, sprawled across the sofas like human afghans, weren’t going to be able to get anything past him. And whether they knew it or not, they shared some common ground with him.
The door to the center opened and a leggy brunette woman carrying a briefcase strode in, followed by a singing four-year-old and a sullen teenage boy who looked like he’d rather disappear inside his gray hoodie than be here. The smaller kid peeled off and beelined for Mavis’s table, while the teenager propped himself against the wall closest to the door. But Dylan’s gaze remained on the brunette.
Stunning. That was the only word that came to mind.
