Abiding Love (3 page)

Mark picked up his books and left without a word to his father. When she looked back toward Lieutenant Commander Boyer, he was scowling at her.

“If you won’t cooperate,” he all but growled, “I’ll go with my son and talk to Harper myself. I imagine he has the power to override your obviously prejudiced decision.”

“Please, don’t do that.” She reached out and grasped his forearm as he started to turn away. He glared down at her hand where it rested on his rockhard arm. Leashed power once again radiated from him, as if she’d grabbed a live wire. Feeling burned, Xandra snatched her hand back. She caught herself before she retreated more than a step, and forced her self to stiffen her spine, though she did still keep her
hands clasped behind her back. It wouldn’t do for him to see them shaking.

“I’d like to explain my reasoning now that Mark has gone, and I expect you to take back that remark about my having prejudged him. Believe it or not, I want what’s best for him.”

“I find that hard to believe after the way your mother spoke in front of him last night. It wasn’t what I’d call a warm welcome.”

“Do you want people to hold you responsible for your parents’ actions? Are you comfortable having your actions judged on
their
deeds and reputations?”

He frowned thoughtfully. “Of course not.”

“Then kindly do me the same service. If you’ll step into my office, I’ll explain why I’m so immovable on the subject of how to handle Mark’s punishment.” She didn’t wait for an answer but walked by him and into her office. Perspiration making her hands slick, Xandra quickly put her desk between them and waited for him to enter before settling in her desk chair. There was no way she was giving him the opportunity to stand there towering over her.

But still, the room seemed to shrink from closet to coffin-size the moment he stepped in. It didn’t get better even when he sat down. Xandra swallowed at the sight of the banked anger still in his gaze. She stood, paralyzed for a long moment, her white-tipped fingers bracing her weight against the surface of the desk. A cold sweat popped to the surface of her skin.

He might have agreed to continue the meeting, but he was obviously still incensed over the nasty things
Xandra’s mother had said about his sister. Frankly, she couldn’t blame him, but that didn’t make facing him any easier. Nor did it make it easier that once again one or both of her parents had chosen her late brother’s interests over hers.

Some things never changed.

A
dam watched Alexandra Lexington gather her dignity about her like a cloak as she sank into her chair. As a SEAL, he’d been trained to read body language, and hers said he’d rattled her, that she was unsure of herself. Still, she
had
managed, so far, to hold her own. Since an angry look from him had been known to send members of his team scurrying for cover, he gave her high points for courage.

He’d noticed her as soon as she’d approached him and Mark. A very pretty woman, she stood about five-six with an almost too-slim figure. Her shining black hair was tortured into a bun at the nape of her slender neck, and she wore a gray power suit that wasn’t quite doing its job.

Her blue-gray eyes had gone just a little dark as he stepped in front of her desk to take the seat she’d indicated, further giving away the effect he had on her. Her slim shoulders had contracted, and she’d
dropped her chin just a bit as she sat. He chalked a lot of it up to a guilty conscience.

But not all.

For some reason, they struck sparks off each other, and he didn’t understand that at all. A spoiled socialite who played at a career and messed with the minds and lives of children was hardly his type. Adam told himself he didn’t care if or why she was uncomfortable. It was good that he’d thrown her off her stride. From what he’d gleaned from his run-in with her mother, the Lexington family had put his sister through the wringer over the years.

“First of all, we need to get something straight, Lieutenant Commander,” she began, calling him back to the present with a jolt.

Her voice, he noted, was still unsteady, and he hated that it bothered him. He wasn’t a man who enjoyed intimidating women. Unless, he reminded himself, they were the enemy.

“By all means, Ms. Lexington, straighten away.” He smiled, but it was not meant as a friendly gesture.

And if the way she blinked and swallowed was any indication, she didn’t take it as one.

“I—I didn’t go looking for Mark yesterday. I was leaving the school when I noticed smoke wafting up from under the bleachers. It was at a time of day when everyone still belonged in class, so I went to investigate. I would have been derelict in my duty if I had handled what I found any differently—no matter who your sister is.”

He’d tried to ignore the pang that little stutter of
hers zinged through him, but it was difficult. He couldn’t let her get to him. “I don’t have a problem with you writing Mark up,” he told her, unconsciously softening his tone. “This time he was wrong. But I won’t stand for you carrying on your family’s vendetta with Mark as the pawn. The kid is going to have enough trouble adjusting to a whole new life, without that. I also have a problem with him missing even more class time. He’s being rewarded for what he did with this suspension because he’s avoiding class that much longer. Saturday detention would have been better. Mark hates yard work.”

She huffed out a breath. “But he might not hate the other students assigned to it with him. Mark is acting out for what looks like the first time in his life, according to his records. Also, according to his records, you’re new at being the custodial parent. I’d say you and this move are probably what he’s acting out against. Believe me, you don’t want your son hanging out with that group of misfits as a way to get back at you. It could just make a bad situation worse. I don’t think you want the police calling you one fine day instead of the discipline office, either. Every one of the Saturday kids is a hairbreadth from exactly that.”

Adam felt like a balloon that had met its fate at the point of a pin. He couldn’t argue with the truth. Mark was angry at him, at the move, and at the unfairness of the world at large, for that matter. And she knew the students in question.

Still, Mark didn’t live in a box. “What makes you think he won’t find those kids on his own?”

“He might. But the way the school day is structured, it’ll be hard. Our students are grouped according to grade-point average and IQ. There are four tracks, and they circulate in different parts of the building. We also schedule classes using a college-type block scheduling, four majors a semester. An hour and a half a class, three minutes between. That cuts down on between-class chitchat even more.”

“Then he won’t likely run into the kids who are your regulars in Saturday detention,” he surmised.

She nodded.

“So I guess Mark’s in one of the upper tracks.”

Ms. Lexington blinked. “You don’t know that he’s one of the more advanced students in the school?”

“Mark lived with his mother and her second husband since he was five. When we’ve gotten together, it’s been for vacations and a weekend here and there. I knew he got good grades, but we talked about other things. Sports. Camping. This past couple of years it’s been nearly impossible to see each other. I’ve been out of the country most of the time.” And past that, how did he explain the way Mallory had kept him out of Mark’s life as much as possible? He shrugged. “When his mother and stepfather were killed, I was deployed, so I couldn’t take him right away. I didn’t even get word for six weeks. He stayed with his aunt until I picked him up to bring him here to Pennsylvania with me.”

“And Mark isn’t happy about the move?”

Did she think he needed it rubbed in? Salt thrown
in the wound? “I’m his father. He’ll live where I tell him to live.”

Her voice strengthened. “And with that attitude, you’ll lose him in two years, if not sooner. I have a few books on communication with teens that might—”

If I haven’t already lost him.

Adam stood, refusing to take any criticism from a woman raised by the same people who raised Jason Lexington. “I’ll handle my son’s adjustment to his new life, thank you. Just you make sure you don’t become part of his problems. In fact, I should probably stop by the principal’s office and ask for a different guidance counselor for Mark.”

She stood now, too. Fire gleamed in her blue-gray eyes. They were pretty eyes, now that he thought about it, but that was of no consequence. To him or Mark.

“I was no more happy about being assigned to Mark than you are. I already tried to have Principal Harper remove me, but you’re more than welcome to give it a shot.”

“And I’ll bet you enjoyed spreading your lies to him.”

The fire in her eyes blazed higher. “Principal Harper insists I’m the best person to help Mark adjust here. I failed to change his mind because, short of exposing Elizabeth’s private business, I couldn’t give a reason. And I refuse to do that to her.”

Adam stared at her. She didn’t sound like one of Beth’s detractors, though it could be an act. She
wouldn’t want her boss to think she had a personal agenda where a student or his family was concerned.

But if the principal thought she was that good…

The real question was, could she be fair? Could he trust her not to use his son?

His instincts about people were usually pretty good, and she did seem genuinely concerned about Mark. Maybe he should give it a try. He sure wasn’t having much luck understanding Mark’s erratic mood swings this last week. Of course, around her today, his own hadn’t been much better.

“I’ll leave things as they are right now, but I’d better not learn you’ve tried to hurt my son. Good day, Ms. Lexington.”

Xandra sank into her chair as Adam Boyer pivoted on his heels and disappeared through her doorway. Her hands were shaking, and she flattened them on the desk blotter to make them stop. How could she have let his anger get to her that way? How could she have let him dominate the conversation? He’d put her on the defensive and kept her there from the moment they met. She hadn’t even told him why she was no threat to Mark. She’d failed Mark because she’d let Adam’s mistrust keep them from progressing to a point where together they might be able to figure out what had Mark acting out.

Blinking back sad, angry tears, Xandra closed her eyes.
Dear Lord, help me in my meeting with Mark. Don’t let me lose sight of Your support and please guide me. Calm me. Guide not just my dealings with
this one boy but with all those in need of a guiding hand. Help me with this anger I feel toward my parents, especially my mother. And, Lord, help with the angry reaction I have to Mark’s father.

The day sped by after that, as one student after another dropped by her little office asking advice on everything from the best colleges to divorcing parents. She hoped she’d handled the latter hot potato in the right way, but one never knew.

At two-thirty, Mark Boyer sauntered in. She studied him for a moment as the girl she’d been talking with left, nearly tripping over her own feet because her gaze was locked on Mark’s handsome face. Xandra smiled for what felt like the first time that day. The girls at Indian Creek would never be the same.

Mark had the same incredible bone structure as Lieutenant Commander Boyer, and at six feet was already nearly as tall. With any luck, Mark would turn out to be a little more reasonable and less intimidating than his father. One thing was sure, she didn’t envy Mark a bit having to deal with a father like his.

Which, she pointed out to herself with a silent sigh, wasn’t a fair assessment of the man’s character. He’d had preconceived notions of her because of what he’d just learned about Xandra’s family, and she had reacted to his understandable anger.

His anger actually pointed out a positive character trait. He cared about his sister. He’d certainly been protective of Mark. And though he cared deeply for his son, he wasn’t one of those obnoxious parents
who thought their children could do no wrong. Parents like hers in regard to her brother.

Her own tongue-tied idiocy had let their meeting get out of hand. She should have taken charge and set him straight with the plain simple truth that she and Elizabeth had managed to build a friendship in the months Xandra had lived at New Life Inn. The only reason she hadn’t met Adam at the wedding was that Xandra had attended only the ceremony, hoping her absence would keep the past from intruding on Elizabeth and Jack’s special day.

“So, my aunt and your brother got hot and heavy once, huh?” Mark said as what she took to be his opening volley.

Xandra felt an unbelievable calm come over her, even though she felt her face pink up a bit. She hooked a loose hair behind her ear and stared at him, her expression showing not a bit of her own inner turmoil. She opened his file, pretended to glance at it as if familiarizing herself with him. Then she closed it and looked up, pinning him with a direct, no-nonsense look.

“No, Mark,” she said quietly. “That is not what happened at all. They call it assault now on the news because rape is such an ugly word, but rape is what my brother did to your aunt. She was fourteen years old. He was eighteen. He was a violent and cruel excuse for a human being, and he nearly destroyed a sweet, shy girl. Your aunt Beth has suffered years of mistreatment because my mother can’t see what a loathsome creature her precious son was.”

Mark blinked, obviously thunderstruck by her candor. “Oh.”

“Exactly. I’m on Beth’s side. And, Mark, I’m on
your
side. I’ve looked over your records and I just don’t get it. You’ve always been a model student. What on earth were you thinking?”

“That I don’t want to be here. That this isn’t home. I want to go back with my aunt, at least.” He emphasized each word as if he’d said it often and had been ignored.

“And you think if you get in enough trouble your father will give up on you and let you live elsewhere? He seems to genuinely want you with him. That’s a good thing, Mark. But your father is in the military. He has no choice where he lives.”

“We didn’t have to come here. He moved us here after he resigned. There’s another couple months till it’s official. He’s making this great big sacrifice. Giving up his career. Doing the
right
thing when I know he doesn’t want to do it at all. I don’t need him. I never did.”

“I don’t think this is the way to change his mind. Did you resent his career?”

Mark glared at her. “No. It was cool telling all my friends about my dad the SEAL and that he was always going on top secret ops. He’s a hero.”

There was truth in his tone, but there was also an undercurrent of resentment. Xandra nodded, trying to decide where to step next without further treading on his already hurt, confused feelings.

“What is your relationship with your dad like?”

“He was never really my father.
Jerry
was my father. He was my soccer coach. He was there cheering me at track meets and softball games, yelling if I talked back.”

“And where was your real father during that period. Did he live nearby?”

“He lived in California at Coronado. That’s a base where the SEALs are stationed and train. It was about five or six hundred miles away from us.”

“Did you see him often?”

Mark shrugged. “Sometimes. He tried to fly me out once or twice a year. Sometimes he’d come get me and we’d go places. But other times we’d plan something and he’d get deployed at the last minute. He couldn’t even call to cancel. Like I said, top secret ops. When I was little, I’d get upset, but later I understood that he wasn’t trying to be mean. He just wasn’t allowed to call. Base command would call after he was already gone. Mom would get mad, even though he couldn’t help it. Then she wouldn’t let him see me when he got back. And she was even worse about it lately. And he didn’t seem to mind.”

“But still, you had to have seen him quite a bit over the years.”

“Oh, sure. He took me to Disney a few times, the Grand Canyon once, a lot of camping trips to different state parks. Real wilderness stuff. Sometimes we went to ball games or out to dinner when he could get a weekend without canceling at the last minute. We just haven’t been together nearly as much as my friends with divorced parents.

“I always separated them in my head,” Mark went on with a telling change of subject. “There was Jerry who I called ‘Jerry’ but he was my father. And there was Adam who I called Dad but he was more like an uncle.”

“Did you have a good time with him? Did you get along?”