My brows raise into my forehead as I ask, “Every time?”
“Every single time,” she answers, nodding her head. “It’s sweet.”
“It’s love,” Grady states as he sidles up next to me. Thank goodness we’re in a round booth so I’m not feeling entirely closed in. He whips out a manila file folder from his briefcase and sits it on the table, opening it. “According to the therapist, they are in a loving, committed relationship. In her opinion, separating them will do more harm than good. Her recommendation is for them to stay together as long as they have a guardian willing to watch over them. She recommends parenthood classes, ones that’ll teach them about all aspects of raising a baby. She believes that as long as they have somebody watching over them and helping them along the way, they’ll succeed. She also advises that they have some sort of job to learn life skills.”
“I’ll take care of that,” I offer. “The club has a lot of things they could do and they’ll have a pretty payday too. One of the residents is a school teacher who has experience with special needs, she’s volunteered her home and services. As of right now, she only has one pupil and it won’t be difficult for her to navigate things.”
Grady turns to Mrs. Jackman, and asks, “How do you feel about that?”
“I’m thinking things over, Mr. Grady,” she answers.
“Well, I managed to get us in to see a judge later today, can you think fast?” he asks her.
Mrs. Jackman grabs Carolina’s hand to gather her attention. When Carolina lifts her eyes and meets her grandmother’s, Mrs. Jackman asks her, “Baby girl, what do you want to do?”
Carolina straightens her shoulders and exclaims, “I wanna stay with Bo Bo.”
Mrs. Jackman turns back to us and says, “There’s your answer, fellas. My granddaughter hasn’t been given many choices in her life, but this is one I’m willing to let her make and stand behind her. I guess we’re all moving to Canton.”
CHAPTER
THREE
Jersey
LoneStar and Brittonjoin me for breakfast this morning. I ruminate over the phone call with Slayer, and the more I think on it, the surer I am that this is for the best. Initially when I started working toward my teaching degree, I wanted to specialize in special needs classes.
That was the goal up until I visited an elementary school and fell in love with the kids. Their exuberance for life thrilled me and ignited a fire inside of me to help them learn and grow. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t continue my classes to assist those who think and do things different than the average Joe.
Average—I’ve come to loathe that word. Especially in regard to people. It makes it sound as if some are superior over others and that brings up thoughts of the assholes who are the entire reason I’m alive and prospering.
Just because somebody has to think longer on how to accomplish something doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with them. I love the differences between human beings. If wewere all the same and did everything the way our neighbor did them, life would be dull and transparent.
Snapping fingers sound off in front of my face which has me batting my eyelashes as I come out of my trance. “Jersey, you still with us?”
“Of course,” I reply, glancing up at Britton. “Sorry, I was thinking about a phone call I had with Slayer and my thoughts spiraled from there.”
“He’s been called home, but needs to wrap up some legal things with his brother first,” LoneStar informs me.
“From my understanding, it shouldn’t take long to get things taken care of and wrapped up,” Britton inserts.
“I told Slayer that his brother and his girl could stay with me. I think the clubhouse would be too overwhelming for them,” I admit.
“I think you’re right about that,” Britton states. “It can get pretty rowdy downstairs.”
“Riptide had a quick church session this morning. The guys are well-aware that Boston and Carolina can’t be overly stimulated and when they’re around, we need to watch our antics,” LoneStar advises.
“Think the guys will be able to do that?” I ask, unsure about that. I’ve been around for several of their get-togethers and the guys really know how to let loose and party like rockstars. Pretty much, anything goes. From the loud music to the occasional fistfights that pop up whenever one of the guys feels the need to let off a little bit of steam. Then, of course, there are the club girls. I feel pretty confident that both Boston and Carolina havebeen somewhat sheltered, even considering what happened at the facility they were in, so seeing scantily clad women that come to the clubhouse from time to time, when the brothers invite them, drop to their knees to give one of the single brothers some relief isn’t something they’ve encountered.
LoneStar shrugs and says, “They’ll try. That’s really all we can ask them to do. Years of living without being under someone’s thumb is a hard thing to reverse with the snap of fingers. We really don’t know how they’ll handle the lifestyle until they’re exposed to it.”
“They could surprise us and adjust well to it,” Britton voices. “There’ll be plenty of eyes on them that can usher them out if not.”
“Yeah, but what will the fallout be if they can’t handle it?” I question.
“It’s going to be a trial and error thing,” LoneStar adds. “For now, we’ve all agreed that they should be kept from the after hours and only be brought to the barbecues until they get used to us.”
“That may help keep them from getting frightened,” I say. “If they can put a face to a name, it should ease some of their anxieties.”
