Page 89 of For the Children


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He backed away a step. “You ready to go for a walk?”

“Sure.”

And just like that, she’d made a commitment she knew she couldn’t keep.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“I KNOW YOU TOLD ME not to say it again, but I just have to.” Valerie’s words made Kirk a bit uneasy as they walked slowly through the holiday-lit streets. “Did you see Brian at dinner tonight?” she continued, her hand sliding into his so naturally he wasn’t sure which of them had instigated the contact. “He had seconds of everything. And I have you to thank for that.”

He’d noticed every bite the boy ate, eager to tell Alicia. This was what his life was about, helping kids. He’d promised his dying daughter that he wouldn’t lose sight of himself again. Ever.

That reminded him of another boy who needed his help. Desperately. He’d seen Abraham Billings on Sunday. With the holidays drawing near, the boy was agitated and depressed, and Kirk didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to talk the kid into hanging in there. Each time he dropped Abraham off, the boy seemed more depressed. Kirk had to have something to give Abraham, some promise he could make that would combat the hopelessness that overwhelmed him.

And about the only place he could get that promise was from Valerie. Juvenile court in Mesa wasn’t that big. Valerie had to know the judge on Abraham’s case.

If she wasn’t the judge herself. But he still didn’t think so. He’d made millions reading between the lines of what people said, and while she’d been understandably evasive, protecting the confidentiality of the court, he really didn’t believe she’d actually made the decision she’d defended. She’d been a little too detached.

“I’ve been to see Abraham Billings.”

She stopped, dropping his hand. “You what?”

He stood in the street, facing her, noticing that her hair glinted with the reflections of green and blue, red and gold Christmas lights on the houses and in the yards around them. “I’ve visited Abraham Billings.”

“That’s what I thought you’d said.” She started to walk again, as slowly as before, yet her whole demeanor was different. She was stiff with tension now.

“Valerie, you’ve just admitted for the umpteenth time that I was right about your own son. Can’t you give me the benefit of the doubt about a boy you hardly know?”

Arms wrapped around the velour jacket that matched her sweatpants, she shivered, although the night wasn’t cold. “You don’t understand.”

He might have acknowledged that…if he hadn’t been so sure that he did understand. Far more than she ever could. He’d been with Abraham, worked with him one-on-one, witnessed his despair, felt the change coming over him. He had the honor of being the only person Abraham even halfway trusted.

“What does Abraham need more than anything?” he asked her.

“Solid ground to stand on.”

“And that’s exactly what basketball gave him. It’s also, believe it or not, what his mother gave him.”

“You don’t know everything.”

“I know that one of his mother’s potential tricks beat him up.”

She stopped again, stared at him. “He told you that?”

“You want the details?”

He sensed as much as saw the confusion cross her face before she shook her head. Shoulders hunched, she stood there, hugging herself.

“Knowing that, how can you say that boy’s mother gave him any kind of security?” she suddenly asked, not hiding her anger.

“The man was a potential trick. He’d never met Abraham or been to his home. He’d merely stopped to ask if Abe knew where Carla Billings lived. He was sent on a wild-goose chase, came back loaded for trouble and found Abraham still hanging out where he’d left him. In the end, it was his mother who saved him. She’d been worried when he wasn’t home on time, and went to his usual haunts looking for him.”

“For God’s sake, Chandler! His mother turns tricks right under his nose.”

“The situation is not ideal, granted,” Kirk said, uncomfortable with that truth. “But there’s got to be a better way to deal with this. Abraham feels a very real and strong responsibility to his mother. His identity is, to a great extent, wrapped up in the part he plays as a family member. Not only has he lost basketball, but your court system, this judge you’re supporting so adamantly, has even stripped him of his identity.”

“I—” She stopped, looked at him with a second of stark fear in her eyes.

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