Page 86 of Summer Holiday Lifeline

“You’ll talk, you mean.”

“Jet—”

“You’re going to miss her second class if you don’t go.”

“He’ll be fine,” Stephanie assured him in a low voice.

“Yeah.” Myles wasn’t about to get into it with her. Jet hardly needed Myles to hover over him like he was a child. “Keep your phone on,” he told Jet.

“Always do.”

“I’ll be back in half an hour.”

Jet grunted.

You’re the adult here. Do not take it personally. An easier thought to think in the privacy of his own head than to feel in the tender bits of his heart.

Myles hefted Shelly in his arms and turned back to the shop entrance without saying anything more lest he bite back at Jet, who had a right to be angry, even if the disrespect he dished out had to be addressed. Eventually.

“Breathe,” Stephanie told him as she held the door for them.

Myles appreciated her advice, even if he didn’t need it. She wanted to help, and that in itself gave him the space to pull in a breath and focus on what he could do. Which wasn’t make Jet listen to him, or convince him to understand why he hesitated over the letter. Not, at least, until Jet let go of some of his own anger, which—did teenagers even know how to do that?

“I won’t be long,” he told her.

She smiled at him and nodded.

“Not that I’m asking you to do anything.”

“I know. But you do know we’ll all keep an eye out.”

Myles had to shake his head at that. “This town,” he said.

She grinned. “We get that a lot.”

Of course it took longer than Myles liked to get Shelly settled into the class. He was so thoroughly done with people and the incessant sound of loud kids cluttering the background of his thoughts by the time he was done, he didn’t immediately go back to his car when he stepped out of the Y.

“And why should I?” he asked himself. “Jet’s old enough to look after himself for a minute.”

Ruthlessly, he shoved down the reminder he’d brought them all here, in part because Jet had been doing a dismal job of looking after himself any time he’d been on his own in Calgary.

“Which is normal teenage behavior.”

But he’d just lost a mother who he felt had betrayed his trust. They were half a country away from their home because Myles had been drowning. And now Jet’s absentee father had contacted them, out of the blue, with no real explanation about why. Nothing about any of their lives was normal.

Stopping to lean his cane against his leg, he fished the letter out of the pocket where he’d stuffed it to find the lawyer’s number and call it.

“Airedale and Giroux,” a female-sounding voice said.

“Hi. This is Myles McCreevy. I’m calling for Daniel Giroux.”

“He’s in a meeting right now. Can I tell him what this is about and have him call you back?”

He shouldn’t have expected anything different. Lawyers almost never came to the phone on a moment’s notice. With a sigh, he explained about the letter. “I was wondering if he had any idea why Priory wanted to see Jet now.”

“I will give him all this information, and I’m sure he’ll get back to you soon.”

“Fine. Thanks.” Myles hung up. “For nothing, really.” But the receptionist was only doing their job, so he couldn’t really hold it against them for doing it well.