Don't Go L.J. Breedlove (books to read fiction TXT) 📖

Rafael a piece of banana. “But that means he’s got to go back to classes, doesn’t it? Will he be ready for that?”

Ryan snorted, and then apologized when everyone looked startled. “He’s paid his tuition. The chances of the university noticing that he’s not attending courses is slim to none,” he said. He rolled his eyes. “As we can attest, that’s not really a problem.”

Emily giggled. “True,” she agreed. “But it might be good for J.J. to get back to a regular schedule, don’t you think? Do you really want him moping around his room here?”

“No,” Mrs. Washington agreed. “Not that we’d allow that. But you’re right, having him resume classes, maybe at the end of the week would be good, if he wants to do that.”

“Well, that gives us some ideas on how we might want to proceed with J.J.,” Rev. Washington said. “I’m picking him up in the morning. And he and I will have a long discussion about this. I’ve been to visit him, but as you say, he’s been very quiet. Not hostile, just lethargic.”

“Long road yet ahead,” Sarah observed. “He needs counseling. Is that something you — either of you — are capable of providing? Or should it be done by someone who isn’t going to be in loco parentis to him?”

Rev. Washington nodded his head in agreement. “I think that should be done by someone else,” he said. “Especially since he doesn’t share our faith.”

Cage grinned at his father. “I may enjoy this,” he said. “You thought I was difficult about faith? Now you’re taking on a white kid from West Linn who is probably Jewish?”

“Is Jewish,” Rev. Washington said, laughing. “I asked him. But it seems to be more cultural than religious. I asked him if he would like us to locate a nearby synagogue for him to worship at instead of joining us. He seemed taken aback a bit that there wasn’t the third option of staying home, but he actually perked up a bit at the idea of attending with us.”

“I could have told him staying home wouldn’t be an option,” Cage muttered, but he smiled at his father affectionately.

“The next item on the agenda is Rafael,” Mrs. Washington said. “Ryan, have you any ideas about what you want to do? And what we can do to support you?”

“Still shell-shocked,” Ryan admitted. “But my home — and my housemates — is no place for a two, almost 3-year-old. Not to mention that I know nothing about caring for him.”

“Well, you can learn that part easy enough,” Mrs. Washington said comfortably. “We all did. Clyde and I talked about this briefly before you got here. We welcome him — with you — if you’d like until you figure things out.”

Ryan was surprised. That option hadn’t occurred to him, but he kind of liked it. He nodded slowly.

“The other option I’ve thought of is approaching Bianica and Gregory about taking in Rafael,” Mrs. Washington continued. “But that doesn’t give you the chance to bond with him. And I already see he seems to trust you. I wonder why that is? But pull him away from you to be with strangers might be traumatic.”

Emily responded to her question. “I think it’s because his mother gave him to Ryan, and Rafael trusts his mother.”

“Yes, that might help him. But that emphasizes the trauma of then turning him over to Bianica,” Mrs. Washington said.

Ryan looked at his son and brushed his hair out of his eyes. Rafael grinned at him, a cute grin, somewhat marred by the banana he was eating. “I think maybe a combination?” he said slowly. “Staying here with him works — and it also means I can see to it that J.J. gets to classes and such — but then paying Bianica to babysit while I’m at EWN?” He wanted to make sure he was clear about the pay thing.

He got an approving smile from Mrs. Washington.

“Do you have room?” he asked.

“We wouldn’t have offered if we didn’t,” she replied. “But we raised three sons here, none of whom are still here. So yes, we have room, and we’d be happy to have you, Ryan.”

Ryan noticed that Cage was distracted. “Cage? You OK with this?” he asked. He couldn’t think why he wouldn’t be.

“Huh? Sure. Same thing, though, you have to play by the house rules. And that means Sunday morning services,” Cage warned his friend. Then he looked at Sarah again. Ah, Ryan thought, that’s what’s worrying him.

“Sarah? You wearing out?” Ryan asked gently.

“Maybe a bit,” she admitted. “Time for my next dose of medications, I’m afraid.”

“Then let’s wrap this up,” Mrs. Washington said briskly. “Ryan? We’ll keep Rafael for the evening while you’re working. You will need to pack a bag for yourself, and we’ll expect you back this evening. I’ll give you a key, and we’ll get you organized here, before you leave.

“Tomorrow Clyde will pick up J.J. and have a talk with him to get a plan made for him. And we’ll give Bianica a call about Rafael — is that what you call him?”

Rafael looked up at her and grinned at the sound of his name. “Looks like that’s what he’s most familiar with,” she said with a laugh.

“Then I’m taking Sarah home,” Cage said. “And I’ll be into the newsroom in a bit.” He kissed both parents on the cheek and then wheeled Sarah out the door and down the handicapped ramp that led to the church, and then to the street.

“How is that working out?” Mrs. Washington said, looking after her son.

“Seems to be going fine,” Ryan said. “They’ve bonded over saving J.J.”

“Traumatic for them as well,” Rev. Washington observed.

No shit, Ryan thought. It had been damn close.

“Can I help with the dishes?” Emily asked as Mrs. Washington started to stack dirty plates.

“No dear, but thank you for asking,” Mrs. Washington replied. And then she grinned at her husband. “It’s Clyde’s night to clean the kitchen.”

Ryan picked up Rafael out of the highchair. “OK, kid,” he