6

Not long after I got off the phone with Pee Wee’s caseworker, Chad’s mother, Lena, called. Our group home was different than

many. We encouraged parents to stay in touch, even if they were incarcerated. We strove to keep our boys’ families intact

while they were with us, through visits and phone calls when possible. Unfortunately, trying to maintain a relationship with

Lena hadn’t been easy. Half the time she wouldn’t call or answer my calls, or when she did call, Chad would refuse to come

to the phone, even when Jason or I offered to listen in. Visits were out of the question. Parents weren’t allowed access to

their children if they were using or selling drugs. Most of the time, Lena was doing both. This recent news that she’d gone

through rehab surprised me. The last time I’d interacted with Lena, she had shown up to the group home drunk and high. Fortunately,

Chad had been at school so he didn’t get exposed to her vitriol.

“Hello, Lena,” I said, trying to sound as pleasant as possible. “How are you—”

“Caseworker say you won’t let my boy go. What the hell you doing keeping him hostage up there at that home? I want my boy released today,” she said, her voice slightly slurred. Was she tired or sick? Or was she high or drunk?

“Lena, I understand that you’re frustrated, but we don’t want to send Chad back home until you’re in a good place,” I said.

“Maybe once we—”

“This situation is fu—”

“Stop with the language, Lena,” I warned, cutting her off. “I will not have this kind of conversation with you.” I didn’t

do it with the boys, and I didn’t intend to do it with her.

“Fine,” she said, the slurring even worse. “I just need to know what the hell is going on. They cut off my money. No stamps.

No housing. Nothing till I get Chad back with me. I ain’t trying to be homeless up in here over a misunderstanding.”

“I am not willing to have this conversation with you any longer, Lena,” I said. “In a few weeks, you will have the chance

to speak your piece to a judge. I suggest you prepare for that.”

“God—”

I hung up the phone. I wasn’t interested in hearing any more profanity-laden tirades from Lena. I couldn’t say for sure if

she was drunk or high, but she gave the impression of someone who was. Immediately, I began typing up my notes documenting

the call. When, or if, Chad’s case went in front of a judge, I wanted to have everything in writing. I planned to send copies

of the notes to Mrs. Gates so she could see why I had serious concerns about Chad’s mother.

I glanced at the clock. No time to sit and worry about Lena. I had a staff meeting. I went to the conference room and everyone was present. I smiled at my married couples, Mr. and Mrs. Grambling and Mr. and Mrs. James, who were all sitting together, laughing about something. I loved having married couples supervise the children at night because for many of them, it was their only opportunity to see a happily married couple up close. Most of the boys came from homes that didn’t have two parents. Some of them barely had one, or if they did, it was often a dysfunctional situation.

We talked about the last twenty-four hours, including the recent phone call with Lena. Everyone was happy to learn that Chad

and Pee Wee would spend the holidays with me and my family, and not just because that meant they’d get additional time off.

My staff worked long hours, and the emotional time they put in went far beyond when they clocked out. Like me, even when they

weren’t around, their minds were still here, playing out the details of the day—thinking about everything they could have

done better or differently.

After the staff meeting, we ate lunch in the dining room. Mrs. Kennedy and Miss Grant had prepared chicken salad sandwiches,

homemade potato chips, and a large pitcher of peach-flavored iced tea. For dessert, they baked sweet potato pies. One thing

was for certain: no one ever went hungry around here.

“Them sweet taters in that pie came straight outta our garden,” Mrs. Kennedy announced, her grin spreading clean across her

face. “Them boys picked them before they went to school this morning. Y’all enjoy.”

Mrs. Kennedy believed in growing as much of our food as possible, and it was a good teaching opportunity for the boys. They loved working in the garden with her and listening to her explain the process of getting fruits and vegetables from the garden to the table. I looked at the smiling faces around the table. We were a family. Yes, we were coworkers, but at the heart of it, those boys were like children, grandchildren, and nephews to us. I loved every person around this table, and I knew they felt the same way about me.

Once lunch ended, I went back to my office to work on the release papers for some of the boys. As much as I missed them when

they left, I was happy to see them reunite with their families, provided I knew they’d be safe. I looked at my clock. The

day had scurried by, and it was almost time for the contractor Jason had recommended to stop by and discuss repairs we needed

on the roof and, depending on the cost, some remodeling of the upstairs bathroom. Our benefactors, the Arrington family, were

generous with their money, but I tried to be the best steward of their funds and our budget.

My phone buzzed, and I quickly picked it up. “Yes, Leslie?”

“Mr. Taylor from Big T Construction is here,” she said.

“Very nice, Leslie. Send him in,” I said absently. A few weeks ago, I’d asked the board for permission to get some work done

on the roof and the bathroom, and they had approved my request. I then asked Jason to find someone to do the work and he recommended

Big T Construction. I hadn’t questioned him about it at all. I had only told him to set up a meeting with me and the owner

as soon as possible.

“Hello, Mr. Taylor,” I said without looking up. I was trying to balance the budget for the previous month, and as always, I was struggling. Math was not my forte. I could write reports all day long, but a simple math problem could leave me scratching my head for hours.

I heard the door close. “Have a seat. I will be with you in just a moment,” I said.

“Take your time, Katia,” he said, his voice deep and husky.

I looked up. A tall, dark-skinned Black man stood before me, showing all of his pretty white teeth. He was definitely a looker,

but also there was something familiar about him.

“You don’t recognize me, Kat?” he said, moving closer to my desk. He removed his Atlanta Braves baseball cap, revealing a

head full of salt-and-pepper curls. Suddenly I knew who he was. Seth Taylor. I almost couldn’t breathe. I’d been thinking about him the other day, and now here he was in the flesh. I couldn’t believe

it.

I could have kicked myself for not inquiring more about this Big T Construction company that Jason had recommended. So much

had been going on, I’d only half listened to him tell me about this company, owned by a veteran named Mr. Taylor. It never

dawned on me that it was Seth Taylor. Taylor was such a common name. Why would I make the connection? Plus, Seth had been

away from Troy for decades. There was no reason for me to think they were one and the same.

But here I was, face-to-face with my high school crush.

I decided not to let on that I recognized him. I didn’t want him to think I’d spent the last twenty-plus years fantasizing

over some high school jock.

“I’m afraid I don’t recognize you, Seth,” I said, groaning internally because of my ridiculous slip. To his credit, he merely tilted his head slightly and grinned.

“Well, you got my name right,” he said. “Good guess. You and I went to high school together. I wouldn’t have made it through

Mrs. Parks’s senior English class without you. How are you doing?”

I stood, completely embarrassed but grateful that he didn’t make a big deal about my faux pas. Feeling about as socially awkward

as I used to in high school, I silently reminded myself that I was the boss around here and he was a potential contractor.

Nothing more. I took a deep breath and forced a smile.

“I’m doing just fine, Seth,” I said. “Good seeing you again. How is Denise?”

“Denise and I parted ways not too long ago,” he said quietly. “Not all things were meant to be, I suppose. I went over to

’Nam and got discharged back in ’5 after I lost my leg. I wear this thing now.” He lifted his pant leg a bit, revealing a

prosthetic.

“I’m so sorry, Seth,” I said, walking around the desk, trying not to be self-conscious of my size. It’s not like I’d been

a stick in high school. In fact, I was probably only one dress size larger now than when Seth had seen me last, but old insecurities

die hard.

When I motioned for him to come sit with me at my conference table, I noticed his slight limp. I wondered if he was as insecure

about that as I was of my weight.

“So, you’re doing construction?” I said as I sat down. I felt foolish as soon as the words left my mouth. I was usually the most confident person in the room, and here I was, making one verbal mistake after another. I waited for him to laugh, but he continued talking as if my question were perfectly normal.

“Yes,” he said with a nod as he sat at the table. “I’ve always been good with my hands. After I got back to the States and

things fell apart with me and Denise, I decided to come home. My parents were amazing with their support, and Dad helped me

start this business. I do as much as I can, and my crew does the rest. It’s honest work and it keeps me out of my head—most

days.”

I could feel my cheeks grow warm, which was silly since we were just having a simple conversation. I resisted the urge to

reach up and touch my cheeks.

“It sounds like you have a busy life. That’s good.”

“Well, I could say the same for you, Miss Executive Director. That’s a pretty fancy title. I bet your husband is proud,” he

said.

“Thank you. But I’m not married—although some would say I am married to this job.” I placed my hands palms down on the table,

mainly to keep them from shaking.

“I’m shocked that you haven’t been snapped up,” he said, looking at me with an intensity no man had shown me, ever. I was

embarrassed. I wasn’t like most women, who seemed to have a guidebook for how to flirt with a man. I’d never had that skill

set. And anyway, I imagined that Seth was being nice. I was sure he still had to deflect women’s attention left and right,

just like back in high school. I was determined not to take his kind words seriously.

“How about I show you around so you can see the roof and the upstairs bathroom?” I stood and pushed my chair out of the way. “I know you’re probably as busy as I am, so let’s do the grand tour.”

He looked at me with a strange expression on his face, but then he smiled. “Absolutely. You lead the way.”

Finally, I was back to a topic I felt in control of. I led Seth to the upstairs rooms that had leaks, and he wrote extensive

notes. Then I led him outside, and while I stood near the part of the house where things seemed to be the worse, he went to

his truck and took out a ladder. I watched in surprise as he placed the ladder against the house and began to remove his prosthetic

leg. He must have noticed the look on my face because he grinned.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I do this all the time. I can’t get up there with the leg on, but I can hop with the best of them

with my one good leg. I promise I won’t come tumbling down.”

I stood in amazement as he climbed the ladder and then stepped onto the roof. I confess that I held my breath until he safely

descended back to the ground. Just as deftly as he’d removed his leg, he put it back on. Then he turned to me.

“I see where the problems are, and I can get a couple of guys up here in a day or two to repair the roof. The question is,

do you want something to tide you over for a year or two, or do you want something that will last you another twenty-five

to thirty years, give or take?”

“I depend on the kindness of strangers around here,” I said, smiling.

“ A Streetcar Named Desire . Although I think the quote was, ‘I have always depended on the kindness of strangers,’” he said and then laughed. He’d obviously

seen the look on my face.

“I paid attention to you senior year when you tutored me in that English course. Yes, we read Shakespeare, but after graduation, I developed a liking for Tennessee Williams. I even got to see Cat on a Hot Tin Roof when it opened in New York in 1955. A friend of a friend got me tickets. Denise didn’t care for it, but ever since, I’ve made

a concerted effort to read his plays. My favorite to date is The Glass Menagerie .”

“Well, Mr. Taylor. I don’t know what to say about that, and it takes a lot to leave me speechless.” I smiled. “Would you like

to see the rest of the house?”

“You lead the way, Miss Daniels,” he said, returning my smile with one of his own.

Seth and I went back inside so he could see the rest of the job. I was hoping to turn the single-person bathroom upstairs

into a multiuser one with three or four shower spaces. When he finished looking around at the current setup, writing tons

of notes, we went back to my office. After a bit more scribbling in his notebook, he quoted me a price, and I was pleasantly

surprised. Although it would stretch the budget, with some tightening of our belts here and there, we could get the new roof

and the renovated bathroom.

“You’re not lowballing are you?” I asked. I wasn’t going to argue with his quote, but I couldn’t resist teasing him.

“No, Big T Construction Company is just very efficient. I promise,” he said, smiling. “My company will make money from this

project. Cross my heart.”

“Well, I need to run this by the board once more, but I can’t imagine them saying anything other than a resounding yes. I should be able to call you in—” Before I could finish, my office phone buzzed. “Excuse me one moment,” I said and picked up the phone. “Yes, Leslie?” She told me it was Lieutenant Rogers. He was one of the many men I’d spoken to yesterday. I gripped my desk. “Put him through.”

“Would you like me to leave the room?” Seth asked.

I shook my head. I was happy not to be alone. I put the phone on speaker and glanced toward Seth. His calm demeanor helped

me to calm myself.

“Hello, Miss Daniels,” the lieutenant said. “I won’t beat around the bush. Your brother, Private First Class Marcus Harold

Daniels III was found alive this morning. Unfortunately, your other brother, Private First Class Aaron Lamont Daniels, remains

missing in action. He was last seen by his twin brother. The details are still getting sorted out. As soon as more is known,

you and your family will be informed. I know this is not exactly the news you were hoping for. I know you wanted to hear that

both young men are safe, but please know that the Marines are doing everything we can to find your other brother.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant Rogers,” I said after taking a large gulp of air. “Is Marcus hurt? Where was he found?”

I was trying hard to focus on the fact that Marcus was alive and Aaron wasn’t dead—or at least he wasn’t reported dead. There

was still hope. I had to believe that because that was the message I’d have to sell to Mama.

“He was out in the jungle for weeks trying to find your other brother. From what I was told, he has lost a considerable amount of weight, but other than that he seems to be okay. As soon as he gets checked out more fully and they are sure he is good to travel, he will be sent home.”

“When will that be?” I pushed. All I wanted to do at that moment was board a plane to Vietnam so I could pull Marcus into

my arms and search high and low for Aaron.

“You should be getting a call tomorrow with better intel, Miss Daniels. I apologize that I can’t tell you more today,” he

said.

“Thank you. I appreciate everything you did to find out what you could about my brothers. My mother and I are grateful.”

“Yes, ma’am. Is there anything else I can do for you?” he asked.

“No, sir. Have a good day,” I said and hung up the phone. I closed my eyes and took deep breaths, trying to regain my composure.

“What can I do?” a voice said, and I jumped. I’d forgotten Seth was in the room. I shook my head as tears began to fall down

my face. I felt a strong hand on my shoulder. I looked up at him and tried to smile through my tears but I couldn’t, so I

continued to take breaths. After a few minutes, Seth sat back down in the chair beside my desk.

“Katia, this is a hard situation, but there is every reason for you and your mother to keep the faith, and from what I heard,

your brother Marcus is going to need all of the strength you can come up with.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I appreciate that.”

“Kat, listen,” Seth said, looking at me seriously. “I run a program that supports vets. It’s nothing formal and there aren’t any doctors or head shrinkers involved—just a bunch of ex-military guys who get together on Friday nights to try to support each other. Once Marcus gets back home, let him know there are guys out there who understand what he is going through and he is welcome to join us.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He stood up. “Why don’t I head out of here and give you some space? We can deal with the construction stuff

when things are a bit more settled with you and your family. No rush on my part. And Kat, if you need me, just call. They

tell me I’m a pretty good listener.”

I nodded again. It seemed like all I could do was nod. “Thank you. I appreciate your kindness.”

“I would say I owe you. I’m a few decades late, but better late than never, I suppose.” He headed toward the door. “I was

for real when I said call me. And because I know you’re probably not the type of person to ask for help, I’ll check in with

you a few days from now. As a friend. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” I said. “I appreciate that, Seth.”

He gave me a final wave and headed out the door. I started gathering my things. Now I had the hard task of going home and

explaining all of this to Mama.