Along Came Mr. Right (13 page)

“No,” Olivia said. “We’re not blind to Paige’s behavior.”

“Good. Then let’s move on.” The social worker flipped a few more pages of Paige’s file. “This is her first offense. That’s why she was sent here instead of juvenile hall.” The social worker sat back in her chair. “Because the merchandise was recovered at the scene, the store is willing to drop all charges.”

Olivia’s shoulders relaxed. “Then you’ll release her to us?”

“Yes, but she’ll have to do mandatory counseling twice a week for six months.”

“That sounds fair,” Olivia replied.

The social worker nodded and dug back into the papers before her. “Before I can release her, I’ll need to talk to her state social worker.”

Olivia nodded and drew a card from her purse. “This is Paige’s social worker.”

Ms. Clark reached for the phone. After a brief conversation, she hung up. “All right. Everything looks to be in order.”

“Great.” Olivia nodded. “What else can we do to help Paige?”

“This is the girl’s first call for help. If the situation isn’t addressed, she’ll be back here, and next time she’ll be in real trouble.”

“We won’t let Paige continue down the path she’s on,” Max broke in.

Ms. Clark arched a brow. “And you are?”

“A friend of Paige’s and her teacher at Denny High School in Seattle. I’ve seen similar signs with other students—students who ended up hurting themselves and others.”

Olivia imagined, as a teacher, he was no stranger to troubled teens. She reached for a lock of her hair, twisting the length around her finger. “We can’t let that happen, not to Paige.”

Ms. Clark tilted her head. “Paige must decide to change. You can’t do the work for her, although having support will make her journey easier.”

“We’re here for her,” Olivia said emphatically.

The social worker nodded. “There’s one more thing I’d like to do before we release Paige to you.”

Olivia frowned. “What’s that?”

“We have a program here called Scared Straight. It pairs a new offender with an inmate. The inmate shares a few stories from their life and their journey through the juvenile system with the offender. It makes a lasting impression. Will you agree for her to participate?”

With no hesitation, Olivia nodded. “Yes. I’ve had foster kids in our program participate in the past. Would you mind if we observed?”

Ms. Clark stood, waiting for Max and Olivia to do the same. “You can be in the room if you’d like.” She smiled. “Follow me. I know the perfect inmate for Paige to talk to.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Paige lay on the thin mattress pad on the bunk of her detention cell. Noise was everywhere. The echo of footsteps, the drone of heating and cooling systems in the old building, and voices in the distance that sounded otherworldly and faraway.

As the noises mingled around her, she couldn’t stop shaking. She hugged her knees against her chest and tried not to cry. Her eyes ached, her throat was raw, but she just couldn’t seem to stop the flood of tears. She’d been in some pretty tough situations before, but never had she been more scared, not even by her dad’s cutting her. At least that had been private.

The dirty, dank cell seemed to close in around her. Why didn’t Olivia come for her? Or had her mentor given up on her, too? She couldn’t help but think about her room at the Millers’ house. Her private space. Her bed with its bright-yellow bedspread, smelling of spring meadow laundry detergent, not the musty scent that now filled her nose.

The Millers.
They would be so upset with her when they learned what she’d done today. She could see the look of disappointment on both their faces. The thought brought a new rush of tears. Why did the anger inside her seem to overshadow everything else?

She had lots of reasons to be angry with the world. But did she have to let that anger control her, consume her, until it ruined what was left of her life? Because this cell was worse than certain foster homes she’d lived in.

The sound of a heavy door opening broke through Paige’s thoughts. She opened her eyes.

“Little. Time to go,” a guard said from the doorway.

Paige lurched to her feet, her heart frantically pounding in her chest. Were they moving her to the main ward with the other girls? The security guard who’d brought her here said they would if no one came for her.

Fresh tears threatened to fall, but she held them in check, not wanting to appear so weak in front of the female guard. “Where are we going?” she managed to say through the tightness in her throat.

“Just follow me.”

Paige kept her eyes down, not wanting to make contact with anyone else in the detention facility as she shuffled down the long hallway behind the guard. Finally they came to another door. The woman pushed the intercom and said, “Little.”

An overly loud buzz sounded, and the door automatically swung open.

Paige swallowed hard and took a step through the doorway.
I’m not a thief. I’ll never shoplift again.
She repeated the words like a mantra with each step forward. When they came to a brightly lit room with glass dividers that segmented the room into sections, she drew a stuttering breath. When she saw not only the social worker who’d come to talk to her but Olivia and Mr. R. in one of those sections, she nearly let her tears fall.

She wanted to run to Olivia and throw herself into her mentor’s arms, to once again feel some small sense of security and affection. Olivia stepped closer, watching her with sadness in her eyes. “Are you okay?”

Paige nodded, not trusting her voice.

“Good,” Olivia said, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We’ll talk later. Right now, you have one more thing to do before we can take you home.”

Paige looked around the small room, until her gaze settled on a dark-haired girl in jeans and a T-shirt on the opposite side of the open room. Another pane of Plexiglas divided the room in two. The girl was on the other side.

“This is Miranda. She has a few things to talk with you about,” the social worker, Ms. Clark, said, leading Paige to a chair opposite the dark-haired girl.

Paige’s heart was pounding so hard she thought it might burst from her chest as she slipped bonelessly into the small, hard seat and met Miranda’s sullen gaze.

Paige listened to Miranda’s story about how she was also caught shoplifting, four years ago, at the age of thirteen. She described her own anger, her hatred of everyone around her who appeared to have what she wanted in her life. More attention, more love, more money, more things.

Miranda told her about her drug use, about getting pregnant at fourteen, and about having to leave that baby behind with its seventeen-year-old father because she couldn’t stop stealing what other people had. Then last year, two days after she’d been released from the detention center, she was arrested again for stealing a car in order to try to see her baby.

The shadows of old rage mixed with regret in Miranda’s eyes, bringing forth the tears Paige had fought so hard to stall.

“Don’t end up like me,” Miranda said. “Don’t give in to your anger. Find another way to release it.”

Paige was so nauseated with anxiety she could barely nod.

Miranda stood and returned to the guard who waited for her. She didn’t bother to look back at Paige.

Oh God, help me be a better person
, Paige prayed more intensely than she ever had before.

As the door shut behind Miranda, Paige turned to Olivia, trying to think of something to say that would make this all better. Olivia didn’t need words. She reached out her hand—a beacon of hope in a sea of fear and regret.

Paige rushed forward into Olivia’s arms. “I’m so sorry. What I did was wrong.”

“Yes, it was. But it’s going to be okay. We’ll get you the support you need. Ms. Clark, Mr. Right, and I are here for you.”

Paige allowed herself to be moved forward, through the lobby and out into the parking lot. Late afternoon sunshine filled the sky, but it did nothing to warm the sudden chill in Paige’s heart. Once again she’d hurt the people she never meant to hurt. She had a lot of amends to make.

To the store owner.

To the Millers.

Even to Olivia and Mr. R.

As soon as she figured out how, she’d make up for hurting them all.

While Olivia drove them back to Seattle, Max filled the silence with small talk about how the Seahawks were doing in the off-season, the weather, the traffic. But under the tension in the air, he soon fell silent.

The rest of the trip back to the high school was quiet until she pulled into the parking lot near Max’s car. “Thank you for coming with me,” Olivia said as he opened the door. “I really owe you one for this.”

“Okay, then let me bring dinner over later,” he suggested.

“I don’t know.”

He arched his brows. “You owe me, remember?”

“All right, but it will be just you and me. Paige has to go back to the Millers. Tomorrow is a school day.” Olivia relented. Maybe they could continue their earlier interrupted conversation. “I’m in unit fourteen-oh-nine. I’ll tell the doorman to expect you.”

“Great. I’ll be over around six. There’s more I need to tell you,” he said as if reading her thoughts; then he shut the door and stepped back, watching as she slowly drove away.

Olivia forced thoughts of Max from her mind as she concentrated on the teenager in the backseat through her reflection in the rearview mirror. Paige’s face was pasty white. “You’re not alone, Paige. The Millers are eager to see you, and I’ll be with you the whole time you go back in their home.”

“I appreciate that.” The teenager tried to smile, but more tears filled her eyes and slipped onto her cheeks. “At least no one is mad at me yet.”

“No one will be mad. We simply want to understand why.”

“I wish I knew,” Paige choked out as she turned to look out the window.

A short time later, they arrived at the Millers’. Olivia parked the car, then waited for Paige to get out. Silently Olivia guided the teenager through the unlocked front door and back to the kitchen where Henry and Eugenia had told her they’d be waiting.

At the sight of Paige, Mrs. Miller stood, came around the table, and folded her arms around her foster child, bringing her tight against her chest. “We’re so happy to have you home, Paige.”

The teen relaxed into her embrace for a moment before pulling back. “I don’t understand,” she said in a tiny, broken voice. “Why aren’t you mad? Why aren’t you hitting me?”

“Hitting never solved a single problem in this world.” Eugenia gave Paige a soft smile as she tucked the hair draped over her eye behind her ear. “We aren’t punishing you, but you will make amends.”

“How?” Paige wiped a hand across her eyes.

“See that pile of toiletries over there?” Eugenia tipped her head toward the corner of the room, where several small containers of soap, shampoo, toothpaste, and a toothbrush were piled.

Paige dropped her gaze to the floor.

“You’re going to make up one hundred emergency kits for the women and children coming into a local domestic abuse organization,” Eugenia continued.

“I’ve received those packets before,” Paige said quietly.

“Then you know how much they help.” Eugenia lifted Paige’s chin. “In addition to the toiletries, you’re going to include a handwritten note in every kit for the recipient.”

Paige frowned. “What am I supposed to say?”

Eugenia’s smile brightened. “I think you know exactly what someone in that position needs to hear.” She nodded her head, most likely pleased Paige wasn’t making her usual fuss about doing extra work. “And you’ll need to sweep the Walgreens parking lot this weekend as a way of making amends there.”

“I’ll do it,” Paige said in a low, shaky voice. “I’ll do all of it.”

In that moment, Olivia was incredibly proud of her. Paige wasn’t a bad kid. She was angry at the world, and that anger had led her down the wrong paths. It was time for a frank discussion, mentor to mentee. “Come with me, Paige,” Olivia said, heading into the living room.

She took a seat on the sofa among a dozen needlepoint pillows. Eugenia loved decorating, and the eclectic contents of the room—teapots, hunting scenes on each of the pillows, decorative spoons—gave a sense of comfort and love rather than clutter.

“We’re going to talk, aren’t we?”

“Yes, Paige. I think that’s appropriate after what you did and what you’ve been through today. Don’t you?”

“I suppose,” Paige conceded as she dropped onto the cream-colored sofa next to Olivia.

“I only want to know one thing. Why?” Olivia asked, her voice gentle.

Paige’s face took on a mulish cast. “You don’t really want to know.”

“Yes, I do. There’s nothing you could tell me that would surprise me,” Olivia continued in her same calm, nonjudgmental tone. She kept her arms uncrossed, her body open, giving Paige every sign that she could talk to Olivia, trust her with the truth.

Trust was hard. Olivia knew that. But she also knew how important it was for Paige to know she had some people in her life who would never abandon her, no matter what she did.

Paige bit down on her lower lip. “I’m not really sure why I stole the mascara. I wanted it. Even though I had money in my pocket, I stole it instead.”

Paige’s eyes were puffy and red. Her cheeks were streaked with dried tears.

“There
is
a deeper reason, Paige, and you know what it is.”

Angry blue eyes snapped to Olivia’s. “Fine! I failed my geometry test. I’m stupid. I’m never going to get it.”

Olivia remained calm, even though her insides were twisting into a tight knot. “You’re one of the smartest young ladies I’ve ever known, Paige. Smart enough to know there’s an even deeper reason behind what you did today.”

“No, there’s not. I’m just mad. I hate not being a better student. I hate the Millers for trying so hard to care about me. I hate that I’m alone. There’s nothing good inside me. Eventually I’ll end up just like my dad, hurting the people I’m supposed to love.”

Olivia touched Paige’s cheek in a gentle, intimate gesture meant to comfort, but she realized it wasn’t enough. Instead, Olivia pulled the teenager into a desperate hug.

They sat that way for a long time, holding each other until finally Olivia pulled back. Gazing down at Paige, Olivia smiled. “That’s the reason I was talking about. I know that pain. It feels like it consumes you, but there is a way to get rid of it.”

“How?” The question was more a strangled sound than a word.

“You free yourself and your fears with trust.”

Paige flinched. “I don’t know.”

“This will be hard to hear, but bear with me for a moment.”

The teenager settled back against the sofa, absentmindedly pushing a pillow out of the way.

“You couldn’t control what happened to you before now. You never asked to be born to parents who hurt you. You never asked to be tossed around from house to house like you were a piece of scratched-up furniture no one wanted.”

Paige swallowed roughly and nodded.

“What you did today, you did all on your own, through your own choices. Those actions led to a path where you must now choose how to proceed. Everything in this life happens to us for a reason—the setbacks, disappointments, even the terrible things. There is a higher purpose to our lives that we may never understand.”

Paige’s mulish look returned, but she remained silent.

Olivia drew in a calm breath as she continued. “The trouble you created today has set you on a path where you can either continue into self-destruction, or allow the event to point you in a new direction—to use what you learned today to prepare the way for change. And, above all, you have to
trust
what happens will be what you need.”