Family. It was what Harriet had become. And no matter how full and beautifully crazy her life had been, I still hadn’t been ready for it to come to an end. Kenna’s face flashed in my mind. That brief moment when she’d shown how broken and lost she truly was. But just as quickly as her true feelings appeared, they were gone again, an expression of nothingness overtaking her face. When Bell and Caelyn had taken her back to the guest cottage, I’d fought the urge to follow. I wasn’t sure what the hell I would’ve done, but I hated how closed off from the world Kenna had become.
I cleared my throat as I pulled onto the main drag of Shelter Island. “I am working today. I’m headed to the Alliance right now. I just needed this morning to get my head on straight.”
“Cliff jumping or rock climbing?”
I chuckled. “Mountain biking.”
“Did it work?”
“A little.” Not as much as I would’ve liked. But the adrenaline rush, the whip of the air, the jarring of my bones after each jump, it all helped.
“I’m sure Callie would understand if you postponed.” Penny’s voice was full of sympathy. As hard as she was on me, Penny was a big softie at heart.
I wound my truck through town, careful to keep my lead foot to the speed limit. “Callie would understand, but the little girl I’m meeting with would think I’m just another person who’s going to flake on her.”
Penny clucked her tongue. “You’re a good man, Crosby McCoy.”
“Just don’t go spreading that around.”
“It’ll be our little secret.”
I pulled into the parking lot to the side of the Alliance and shut off my engine. “I’m here, and I’ve got to jump if I don’t want to be late.”
“Okay. Let me know if there’s anything that little girl needs and my knitting circle girls will get it for her.”
“You’ve got an ooey-gooey heart in there, Penny.”
“Oh, hush. Get going, you troublemaker.”
I chuckled. “Thanks for managing the schedule. I’ll check back in with you when I’m done here.”
“Sounds good.”
I hit End on my screen and switched my phone to silent. I always made sure the first meeting was free of any and all distractions. Often, it was the first time someone had truly listened to what the child had to say and made them feel like a priority. When they felt important, like I genuinely valued whatever they might share, that was where the magic happened.
I rounded the old craftsman building that housed the Alliance and headed to the back where there was a playground and a small field. A handful of other kids and adults were present for their own meetings and mentorship time. Callie caught my eye and waved me over to a picnic table. “Zoe, this is Crosby, the man I was telling you about. He’s going to help you tell the judge what you want.”
The brown-haired girl at the picnic table was tiny. I’d assumed she couldn’t be more than eight years old, but I’d learned from her file that she was actually nine. The idea that her slight frame could be from malnutrition had my gut twisting.
“I want to go back with my mom.” Zoe’s voice was timid, and she didn’t meet either of our gazes. But at least she was telling us what she wanted. Some kids didn’t open up for weeks.
Callie rubbed a hand up and down Zoe’s back. “I know, sweetie, but your mom isn’t well enough to take care of you right now.”
“She probably just needs more medicine. She always gets sick when she doesn’t have it. Maybe the doctor could get her some more.”
There was a burning sensation along my sternum. Drugs. Zoe, not even ten years old, knew that her mother needed drugs to function in any capacity. And her mom had trained her to think of them as medicine. I eased down on the bench. “The medicine your mom has been taking is a bad kind. It’s not good for her, so some people are going to try and help her.”
Eyes wise beyond their years blinked back at me. “They do make her crazy sometimes. Or really sleepy. Sometimes, she doesn’t wake up for a whole day.”
I fought to keep the anger currently coursing through me from showing on my face. “So, it’s good she’s not going to be taking it anymore, right?”
Zoe twisted the end of one of her braids, wrapping strands of hair around her finger. “I guess. But how long is she going to be gone?”
I glanced at Callie over Zoe’s head. “We don’t know that yet. But you’re doing okay with the Calhouns, right?”
Zoe’s little body stiffened slightly. “I want to go home.”
Zoe’s home no longer existed. The trailer her mother had rented was now back in the hands of their landlord. Thankfully, Callie had gotten in to grab a few of Zoe’s belongings before the rest of the items were trashed.
Callie patted Zoe’s knee. “I know being in a new place is scary, but just give it some time.”
Something in the way the little girl had tensed at the mention of her foster parents had concern flashing through me.
Another volunteer motioned for Callie, and she rose from the picnic table. “I’m going to leave you to hang out with Crosby, but I’ll be right over there.”
Zoe nodded and then dropped her gaze to her lap, twirling her thumbs in circles around each other.
“So, what’s your favorite thing to do at recess? Maybe we could play that today.”
Her gaze lifted slightly. I braced myself for her to say “playing house” or something of the sort. I had gotten roped into playing Barbies on more than one occasion at this very picnic table. But I had to admit, I was good at doing the voices. “Soccer,” she answered.
My brows lifted, and a grin stretched across my face. “I happen to love soccer. But it’s been a while since I’ve played. Think you could remind me how?”
Zoe’s little head bobbed up and down. “I’m one of the best girls in my class. The boys only let me and Cindy play with them because all the other girls are too slow.”
I chuckled. “Well, it looks like I found the perfect teacher.”
Her shoulders straightened with pride. “We need a ball.”
“Come on, I know where Callie keeps them.”
For the next hour, Zoe put me through my paces. I was shocked at how fast and agile she was. We ran up and down the small field, worked on dribbling and passing. She laughed herself silly when I took a mock tumble. And through it all, Zoe started to let me in. I saw the little girl who was dying to get out, the one the anxiety and fear of living with an addict mother had been holding back.
I crouched down, pulling a card out of my wallet. I wrote my cell phone number on the bottom of it. “You call me anytime you need. Or if you just want to talk. I’m always here. Okay?”
Zoe nodded, carefully taking the card from me as if it were made of the most precious metal. She slipped it into her pocket. “Thanks for playing with me, Mr. Crosby.”
“You can just call me Crosby. We’re friends now, right?”
She beamed, and those amber eyes that reminded me so much of Kenna’s socked me right in the gut. I had to find a way to make sure this girl ended up with good people who cared for her.
“Zoe, Mrs. Calhoun is here to pick you up,” Callie called.