An Act of Love (New Beginnings Book 6) Read online

  Inside the foyer, the vibrations blasted Rachel. “I’ll go up and see if she wants to talk. Thanks for helping.”

  “I’ll be here when you come down.”

  “You don’t have to be. You’ll need something to eat before you go back to work.”

  “My next appointment isn’t until one-thirty. It won’t hurt me to go without lunch. You might need someone to talk to, and besides, someone will have to take you back to get your car.”

  “Oh, I forgot.” Which she was discovering she did a lot around her new neighbor. As she hurried up the stairs, she felt the heat of his look on her, and instead of sending her into a panic, she responded to it with a quickened heartbeat.

  Rachel didn’t bother to knock on Taylor’s door this time because the music was so loud, she wouldn’t hear, anyway. When she entered the bedroom, Taylor sat on her bed cross-legged with Rachel’s laptop, studying the screen intently. She marched over to the CD player and switched it off.

  Blessedly, silence ruled for a few seconds before her daughter jerked her head up and glared at her. “Mom, I was listening to that.”

  “And the whole neighborhood. Use your iPod.”

  Taylor returned her gaze to the computer.

  “What are you doing?” Rachel crossed to the bed and stared down at the screen.

  “Reading about ADHD.”

  “And?”

  Taylor lifted her head and looked directly at Rachel. “This sounds like me. I do a lot of these things. I don’t like to sit for long. I have a hard time paying attention. I…” Wonder replaced any hostility from earlier in her voice. “They say here there’s help for it.”

  Rachel sat beside Taylor. “That’s what I wanted to tell you. There are things we can do to help you cope with it. I’m reading about it and learning everything I can so I can do that.”

  “I need to do that, too. I want to understand what’s wrong with me.”

  “Hon, everyone has strengths and weaknesses. I do. You do. Your brothers. We’ll take your strengths and build on them and work to deal with your weaknesses. We’re in this together. You aren’t alone.”

  Taylor threw herself into Rachel’s arms and hugged her so tightly for a second, she couldn’t get a good breath.

  When she pulled back, Rachel asked, “Are you okay?”

  Taylor nodded as she turned back to the computer. “Can I read some more about it?”

  “That sounds great. I have to go pick up my car at the doctor’s office.”

  “How did you get here?”

  “Max brought me. We went looking for you. He didn’t want me to drive since I was so worried about you.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her gaze focused on the website about ADHD.

  “After I get back, we’ll have lunch and talk some more. Okay? We need to get started on homeschooling today.”

  “Fine.” Taylor agreed, but there was no enthusiasm in her voice—as though she didn’t think anything would really help her.

  Rachel waited a moment to see if Taylor would say anything else or ask another question. When she didn’t, Rachel left, feeling for the first time in a long while a ray of hope even if her daughter wasn’t excited about schoolwork.

  When she descended the staircase, Max sat on the bottom step, his elbows perched on his thighs, his hands clasped loosely between his legs. He glanced over his shoulders, a question in his eyes.

  “She’s reading about ADHD on the Internet. She’s better. I think she’s actually a little relieved to find there’s a name to what she has been privately struggling with, especially the past few years.”

  He shoved to his feet and rotated toward her. A smile ignited his eyes and enveloped his whole face. “Good. I’m so glad to hear that.”

  His expression, as though they shared something, nestled a warm feeling deep in her heart. “I told her I was leaving for a little while to pick up my car. She wanted to read more about what she’d found. Which is great because Taylor doesn’t read if she can help it.”

  Max strolled toward the front door and stepped out on to the porch. “She struggles with reading?”

  “Yeah. I intend to do a program to help her read better. Dr. Baker gave me a suggestion, and I ordered it. One of the reasons she has difficulty is because it takes her a long time to read. She would often give up before she finished a selection for school. At least at home, I’ll be able to adjust the instruction with that in mind.”

  At his car he pulled the passenger-side door open for her. “That sounds like a good strategy. A lot of subjects hinge on the ability to read.”

  “I’m counting on it to help my daughter. I just hope I’m doing the right thing. Jordan struggled with that issue, too, and Nicholas is doing great with homeschooling.”

  Max rounded the front of his Mustang and climbed in behind the steering wheel. “What Taylor was doing wasn’t working. Maybe this will.”

  “That’s what I’m hoping. Lately, I’ve felt helpless where Taylor is concerned. Nothing I’m doing is getting through.”

  As he backed out of the driveway, his look brushed over her—as though he’d physically touched her. Her throbbing pulse coursed through her. His clean, fresh scent surrounded her, vividly making her aware of the man sitting only a foot from her.

  “From what I’ve seen, you’re a great mother. You care for your children and want what’s best whatever that is. You’re willing to try homeschooling to help your daughter. That’ll be a time commitment for you.”

  “Before I married Lawrence, I took a few classes toward being a teacher. I always wanted to be one. I guess I’ll find out how well I would have been. If it works for Taylor, I’ll consider doing it for Will and Sam. They’ll be starting kindergarten next year.” She grinned. “But I appreciate your vote of confidence.”

  “I’m pretty good at science. If you need any help there, I can help.”

  “Thanks. I may take you up on that once we get into the classes with Kevin.”

  “Call me if you get frustrated.”

  “I’m good at math and English. I think I’ve got that covered. Jordan and her sister-in-law do a history class together. They said Taylor can join them.”

  “Sounds like you’ve given this a lot of thought and got everything covered.”

  She drew in a deep, composing breath. “Then why do I feel like I’m out of my comfort zone?”

  “Because you are,” he said with a laugh. “You aren’t a teacher and have never homeschooled so it will be scary at first.”

  As he drove into a parking space near where her Lexus was, she couldn’t shake the feeling this man understood her. The loneliness she’d felt these past few years after Lawrence died dimmed some.

  She put her hand on the handle, twisted toward him and said, “Thank you. You don’t know how much I appreciate the help today.”

  “You’re welcome.” He switched off his engine while directing his full attention to her.

  Looking into his eyes, the color of sun-kissed grass, she swallowed hard, a link between them strengthened in that moment. When she first met Lawrence, she’d connected with him. The realization she was experiencing the same sensation excited her and yet scared her, too. As she got out of the car and closed the car door, she peered down at the wedding ring on her hand. Skirting the back of his Mustang, she twirled the band on her finger, part of her feeling guilty as though her thoughts betrayed her husband’s memory.

  “See you this evening,” Max said when she passed him in the parking lot.

  She gave him a smile, full of gratitude and something else. Interest? Her last expression stayed in Max’s mind all the way up to his office. Seeing the struggles that Rachel was going through with Taylor sobered him. Rachel was a good mother. How could he do a better job? And what was going to happen when Taylor discovered he was her biological father? Would she hate him? The same could be said about Rachel. How would she take the news?

  When he’d seen both Taylor and Rachel in the office hallway earlier, he hadn’t
planned on asking her and the children to dinner. But the invitation had tumbled from his mouth before he could stop it. Rachel’s nearness affected him in ways that he hadn’t anticipated. Alicia had never been that caring or warm. He’d had little of that in his marriage and being around Rachel illustrated what he had missed.

  * * *

  “Mom, do I have to? We’ve been working for three straight hours. I’ve got to have a break.” Taylor threw down her pencil on the paper and pushed back her chair.

  “We stop when you have finished that row of problems. You only have three more to go.” Rachel moved closer to her daughter and pointed toward the pre-algebra on the workbook page. “You had a break before you started this math. We’ve only been working on it for twenty minutes.”

  “Don’t Will and Sam need you or something?”

  “No, I just checked on them, and they’re playing in Sam’s room.”

  Slouching against the kitchen table, her elbow on its top, Taylor settled her chin in her palm. “I can’t work with you standing over me.”

  Rachel thought of a Bible verse on patience and repeated it several times in her mind as she took the seat next to her daughter. “Is this better?”

  “No. You don’t have to watch everything I do. I’m not a baby.”

  “Fine.” Rachel rose. “I’ve got something I wanted to give you. I’ll go get it while you finish the problems.”

  When she halted at the entrance into the kitchen, she looked back to see Taylor staring out the window. Rachel bit her lower lip to keep from saying something. Homeschooling was going to take a long adjustment for her daughter.

  So far, in the first afternoon, Taylor had managed to avoid as much work as she could whine her way out of or come up with a reason not to do it. She got a drink—four times. Went to the restroom more than she ever had before in the span of three hours. Got caught texting several friends. And moaned about how hungry she was even after having a large ham and Swiss sandwich with a mound of chips only an hour before.

  With a deep sigh, Rachel retrieved the journal she’d bought for Taylor, checked on her sons, now in the den, and returned to the kitchen to find her daughter still staring at the window, dusk quickly evolving into darkness. “Hon, we’ve been invited to Max’s for pizza tonight. If you can’t get your work done, I’ll have to call him and tell him we can’t come.”

  “Pizza,” Taylor murmured her favorite food and pulled her attention from the window to focus on the sheet in front of her. She sat up straighter and then hunched over the paper, pencil in hand.

  Rachel hung back, not wanting to disturb Taylor as she worked first one problem then the next and finally the last equation.

  Taylor slammed down the pencil. “Done.”

  Rachel covered the area between them and placed the journal down in front of her daughter while Rachel took the math and checked the rest of the answers. “This is good. The only thing you need to do is refigure the last step in the first problem.” She put it down on the table and pointed to the one she was talking about.

  “Just mark it wrong and give me the grade.”

  “No, I’m not grading you. If you get something wrong, you’ll fix it until it’s right. We don’t move ahead until you understand what we’re working on.”

  “Oh, please, you expect me to do everything right. I can’t.”

  “You will and can. Remember, you’ll determine how fast we move.”

  Taylor huffed and erased the numbers, then redid it. “There. Okay?”

  “Great. I knew you could do it.”

  “What’s that?” Taylor pointed to the journal.

  “I got you another journal. Before we start our lessons each day, I want you to write in this your thoughts about anything that happened the day before. You can show it to me or not. That will be your choice.”

  “If you don’t grade it, what good is it?”

  “I want you to write for the pure joy of writing.”

  “There’s nothing joyful about writing or reading.”

  “I thought you liked to write. You’ve gone through five journals in two years.”

  “I don’t like anything having to do with school.”

  “I hope I can change your mind.” If my patience lasts that long.

  Taylor rolled her eyes. “I don’t have to now, do I?”

  “No, you can start tomorrow morning.”

  “When do we go to dinner?”

  Checking her watch, Rachel started for the den and the noise of arguing. “In half an hour.”

  Taylor passed her in the hall, hurrying toward the stairs. Rachel increased her pace as a crash reverberated down the corridor. She appeared in the den at the exact moment Will and Sam were playing tug-of-war with a book. Her gaze fell upon a chair on its side, and she inhaled a relieved breath.

  “Boys, stop it.”

  “I had this first.” Will yanked on the book and a couple of pages ripped off in his hand.

  “I did.”

  Rachel stepped between them, snatched the book before it was completely ruined, and wondered what she had gotten herself into. How was she going to keep Taylor focused on her schoolwork and be a referee for her two sons at the same time?

  * * *

  “This is the best pizza I’ve ever had.” Taylor polished off her fourth slice and collapsed back against her chair. “I’m stuffed.”

  Will reached for the last piece in the center of Rachel’s kitchen table. “I claim this.”

  “No, I want it.” Sam managed to get his hand on the pizza a second after his brother and a tug-of-war began again.

  “Stop right now.” Rachel schooled her voice into the calmest level possible under the circumstances of a war being played between the twins—a war that had spilled over from earlier in the den through the whole dinner with poor Max sitting and taking it all in quietly. Neither boy would let go of the piece. “Put it back on the plate.”

  “But I claimed it first.” Will glared at Sam.

  “I’m still hungry.” Sam narrowed his eyes to slits and sent daggers toward Will. “I’m not letting go until he does.”

  While the two were staring each other down, Rachel rose slightly from her seat and snatched the slice from both of them. They turned their looks on her. “Obviously, it’s time for bed. Go get ready, and I’ll come up to tuck you in.”

  “I’m not sleepy.” Sam glanced at Will. “This is all your fault.”

  “No, it’s yours.”

  “Now, and I don’t want to hear another word from either one of you.”

  The twins stood, pouts descending. They spun around and raced for the door.

  “Haven’t you two forgotten your manners? What do you say to Dr. Connors for fixing the pizza?”

  Near the kitchen entrance, each jockeying for being the first through the doorway, both boys came to an abrupt halt and slowly turned, slanting a look toward the other to make sure he did the same thing.

  “Thanks,” Will and Sam said together, then whirled around and bumped shoulders while hurrying out of the room.

  The pounding of their footsteps up the stairs echoed through the house. The slamming of their bedroom doors quickly followed. Then silence.

  “Now you see why I asked you to come over here to eat. I had a feeling something like this would happen.” Rachel leaned back and relaxed for the first time, her stomach muscles releasing their tension. “I’m sorry you had to hear that. They’ve been at each other’s throat all day. Hopefully, tomorrow will be better.”

  “It kind of reminds me of my brother and me when we fought.” Max sat at the head of the table where Lawrence had. The sight of Max there startled her at first, but as so much that had occurred in the past two years, it was something she got used to quickly. Lawrence wasn’t coming back, and she had to move on. Make a new life.

  “If no one’s gonna eat that last piece, then I will.” Taylor grabbed the slice, part of it falling apart from the tug-of-war. That didn’t stop her from taking a big bite of i
t.

  “I thought you were stuffed,” Max said with a chuckle.

  “I just needed to wait a few minutes. Can’t let pizza go to waste.”

  “I’m glad you liked it.” A pleased expression eased the tired lines on his face.

  “One of my friends’ dads cooks a lot, too. But my dad never did except to barbecue steaks every once and a while.”

  “I like good food, and I got tired of going out to eat to get it. But you should have seen my first attempts. Uneatable is a kind description.”

  “My aunt Jordan and Granny are great cooks.”

  Rachel straightened. “I think my daughter is saying I need more lessons.”

  “Let’s just say your sewing is better than your cooking.” Giggling, Taylor finished off the last bit of pizza.

  “Okay, so I didn’t inherit the cooking gene from Granny.” Rising, Rachel picked up her dishes. “Now that we’re through—”

  Taylor bolted to her feet. “I’m going to research some more on ADHD. Thanks for the pizza.”

  Before Rachel could blink, her daughter was halfway across the kitchen.

  “I’ll help you clean up.” Max gathered up the plates near him.

  “You don’t have to. I’ll do it later. You’ve done enough cooking dinner. And I agree with my kids. The pizzas were delicious.” Max had prepared three different kinds—a supreme, one that reminded her of a Greek dish, and a pepperoni, her boys’ favorite—and she’d tasted each one.

  “We can talk while we clean up.” Max set the plates in the sink. “How did it go today with Taylor?”

  “Basically, we went over what she found concerning ADHD. We discussed it, and she feels better now that she understands it some. Other than that, all we accomplished was half a page of math, and that subject is one of her better ones. I don’t even want to think about tomorrow when we start in the reading program.”

  “Any change won’t be easy for Taylor. I have found kids with ADHD don’t like change.” Max cleared the rest of the table while Rachel began filling the dishwasher.