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Chapter Four
Wavering between disappointment and relief, Brenda parked her car in the building’s visitor parking and registered at the front desk. With Mia tagging along, tonight’s barbeque certainly wasn’t the date of her dreams, but at least she’d gotten an invitation to visit.
“Dr. Winston and his guests are expecting you on the terrace,” the receptionist said. “Follow this corridor to the end. Turn left and go through the glass doors. You’ll see the terrace and pool.”
“Thank you.”
“What a gorgeous building, Mom.” Mia pirouetted right and left, scanning the marble floor, the glass fixtures and white leather furniture in the sumptuous lobby. “Wow, it’s a pool party. We’re not the only guests,” she noted as they entered the terrace.
Matt met them halfway and greeted them with a charming smile. “Glad to see you again, Brenda, Mia.”
In swimming trunks, a sky-blue t-shirt the color of his eyes, and a matching cap allowing a few curls at his nape, he looked way too attractive for her weak heart.
“Hi, Matt. This is a tiramisu I made.”
She handed him a cooler, and he walked them to the picnic area where a tall man, a gorgeous Oriental woman, and a few teenagers gathered at two tables set with drinks and appetizers.
“Let me introduce our guests. My brother Royce, our friend Susan Chen, her students, Tayla, Rick, and Cody. My friends, Dr. Brenda Hammer, a psychologist, and her daughter Mia Clark.”
Brenda shook hands with Royce, Susan, and the teenagers. If Matt reminded her of a sailor, Royce was a real pirate, his hair reaching to his shoulders, his black t-shirt and cap a perfect frame for his roguish face and dark hair.
Matt waved at the tables. “We have appetizers and non-alcoholic strawberry daiquiri punch for the youngsters. Brenda, I’ll add rum to your drink.”
“Thank you, Matt.”
Glass in hand, Brenda kept Mia in her line of sight. In shorts and a low-cut blouse, her daughter mingled with the other kids. To Brenda’s relief, Mia’s laughter rang out carefree and pleased.
“Brenda, our friend Susan Chen is from Thailand,” Matt explained, continuing his introduction. “She’s working on her Ph.D. in education at the University of Cincinnati.”
Brenda smiled at the young woman.
With her black hair pulled tight at her nape in a big bun, her yellow bouffant pants and tight orange blouse, adorned with multiple gold necklaces and looped earrings, the young woman commanded attention, as did the exotic perfume surrounding her.
In white Capri pants, red and white linen shirt, without any jewelry, Brenda felt underdressed. “Are the three youngsters your students?”
“Not exactly,” Susan answered. “I don’t teach them anything. They belong to the Youth Club I created at U.C. for high school kids interested in extracurricular activities.”
Her huge, black, almond-shaped eyes glittering with excitement, Susan described her project.
“We have three groups, one related to theater, a second about health, including nutrition, disease, sexuality, and first aid, and a third involving debate, justice, and mock trials for the kids.”
“How interesting… Is that part of a community initiative? Or some charitable organization’s outreach program?”
“Neither. I created the Youth Club as part of my research project. The kids organized the groups and started the activities. I just observe them and record my observations as part of my thesis project.”
“But…but … These kids can’t be used like guinea pigs for your project.” As a psychologist, Brenda was appalled.
“I’m notusingthem, Dr. Hammer. They benefit greatly from working together in a non competitive environment.” Susan’s face remained impassive, but her voice had cooled several degrees. “Before joining the program, they had to bring in a signed permission form from their parents. Nothing is hidden.” Susan lifted her chin in challenge.
“I’m not criticizing, just trying to understand. Why would they join your club rather than be part of their own school activities?”
Susan shrugged. “Obviously because they weren’t accepted on their schools’ various teams.”
“Are these delinquents?” Brenda’s stomach somersaulted at the thought of Mia involved with rehabilitating juveniles.
“Not delinquents, but two steps from becoming them. They are kids who couldn’t shine in their own environment.”
“And you’re trying to help them while doing your research?” she asked, not sure yet if she should label Susan a child benefactor or an abuser.
