Crossroads. Irene Hannon

around the crowded meeting room, relieved to see that other parents also seemed to feel the need for more information about raising teenagers. It helped a bit to know that she wasn’t alone.

      Her quick scan revealed few available seats, but she spotted one in the middle of the last row and quickly made her way toward it. As she carefully edged past those already seated, trying not to step on toes as she went, she glanced at her watch. She’d made it with two minutes to spare.

      Tess was still settling in when a familiar voice over the microphone drew her startled gaze. She hadn’t expected Mitch to extend his workday by attending the evening meeting. Once more she was impressed by his dedication.

      “Good evening. For those of you I haven’t met, I’m Mitch Jackson, the principal,” he said, looking completely at ease in front of the crowd. “I’d like to welcome you to tonight’s program and thank you for taking time out of your busy schedules to attend. I think you’ll find it very worthwhile. As you know, we are extremely fortunate to have Chris Stevens on our staff, and even more fortunate that she agreed to make this presentation tonight. Let me review her credentials for you and I think you’ll agree.”

      As he did so, the resonant, well-modulated timbre of his voice reflected both warmth and competence. Despite his casual attire of open-necked shirt and sport jacket, he radiated a quiet confidence and authority that marked him for leadership and engendered respect. He seemed to be a man in absolute control of his life, who had found his place in the world and had his act together, Tess reflected.

      “And when Chris is finished, we’ll both be happy to answer any questions you might have,” he concluded, once again surprising Tess as he took a seat in the front row. Not only had he kicked off the meeting, he intended to be there when it finished. Did he always work such long hours? Tess wondered, filing the question away for the hoped-for interview. Since receiving the assignment that morning, she’d simply been too busy to call and discuss it with him. Perhaps she’d have a chance tonight, she mused. Though it would probably be difficult to single him out in this crowd.

      An hour later, when the presentation ended, Tess realized she’d just spent one of the most worthwhile evenings of her life. Chris Stevens was good, just as Mitch had promised. She had touched on many of the fears and uncertainties that Tess had been feeling. Clearly Tess’s experience with Bruce wasn’t unique. But just as clearly, kids that age needed a strict set of rules and lots of one-on-one discussions with a caring adult. Chris had hammered home those points throughout her talk.

      Which only made Tess realize just how remiss she’d been on both counts since coming to St. Louis. In Jefferson City, Bruce had never seemed to need rules; he’d just done the right thing without prompting and had always hung around with a wholesome group of friends. As for one-on-one talks, she’d never had to earmark certain times. They’d always eaten breakfast and dinner together, so those talks had evolved naturally.

      Things had been different since they’d moved to St. Louis. For one thing, since Tess was the new kid on the block, her job schedule was somewhat erratic. She was frequently assigned stories that required coverage at undesirable times—evenings, weekends, holidays. As a result, dinners with Bruce were infrequent. And he’d stopped eating breakfast, so that talk time was gone, too. She’d also been too lax on rules.

      Tess resolved to make some immediate changes, both in her life and Bruce’s. He wouldn’t like it, but if what Chris said was true—and Tess instinctively sensed that it was—kids actually did better when there was more rather than less parental intervention in their lives. Not so much that you stifled them, but enough to let them know that you cared deeply and had standards by which you expected them to live. It was clearly a tough line to walk, but Tess was determined to find it.

      When the applause died down, Mitch stood and rejoined Chris at the front of the room, and for another twenty minutes they adeptly answered questions, concluding with an invitation to stay for coffee and a snack.

      As Tess gathered up her purse and notebook, she wearily glanced at her watch. Nine-thirty. It had been another long day. Late in the afternoon she’d had to cover a story that had run much longer than she expected, and she’d come to the meeting directly from there. Her stomach rumbled ominously, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten anything since lunch, when she’d grabbed some yogurt and an apple. She gazed longingly toward the coffee table, where a crowd was now gathering. Sweets weren’t exactly a healthy dinner, but she knew by the time she got home she’d be too tired even to nuke a microwave dinner, let alone eat it. A cookie or two would have to suffice, she decided.

      The food line inched along slowly, and by the time she reached the table the crowd had thinned considerably. She hesitated at the display of sweets, debating the merits of chocolate chip versus oatmeal cookies, when a deep, rich chuckle distracted her.

      “Take both. I am.”

      She turned to find Mitch smiling at her, and her heart did a little somersault.

      “Are you planning to eat and run, or would you like to sit for a minute?” he asked.

      Tess looked at him in surprise. “I, uh, hadn’t actually thought about it.”

      “Well, I for one don’t do especially well when I have to juggle coffee in one hand and food in the other. Seems like you need a third hand to eat. Would you like to join me over there?” He nodded toward a couple of unoccupied chairs against the back wall.

      “Sure.”

      “I’ll get the coffee. Just pile some cookies on a plate, and I’ll meet you,” he said, flashing her a grin as he headed for the coffeepot at the other end of the table.

      Tess automatically did as he asked while she tried to figure out why he had approached her. Had something else happened with Bruce? she suddenly wondered in panic. After tonight’s presentation, it was clear that she’d made some bad mistakes. And she intended to correct them. But maybe it was too late. Maybe Bruce had done something that…

      “You must be hungry,” Mitch teased, interrupting her train of thought as he settled into the folding chair beside her.

      Tess glanced down, and a flush rose on her cheeks at the sight of the tall pile of cookies on her plate. “Good heavens, I don’t know what I was thinking,” she said faintly.

      “Don’t worry, I can help you put a dent in them,” Mitch assured her as he handed her a cup of coffee and reached for a cookie. “Dinner was a long time ago. Probably for you, too.”

      “Actually, this is dinner,” she admitted with a wry smile as she reached for a chocolate chip cookie.

      He frowned. “Seriously?”

      “Yes. I don’t make a habit of this, but some days there just doesn’t seem to be time to eat.”

      His frown deepened as his discerning gaze briefly swept over her. Last time he’d seen her she’d worn a boxy pantsuit that revealed little of her figure. Tonight she had on an oversize sweater that again effectively hid her curves. But her slender hands and the clearly defined bone structure in her face suggested to him that his original assessment of her as slender might need to be modified to too thin.

      Tess was embarrassingly aware of his discreet perusal and sought to divert his attention. “I have a feeling you know what it’s like to be time-challenged,” she remarked. “You’ve obviously had a long day, too.”

      His gaze returned to her face. “True. But I always find time to eat,” he added with an engaging smile as he bit into his cookie.

      He wasn’t bringing up his reason for singling her out, Tess realized. Perhaps he was trying to lead up to it gradually, as he had in his office. But at this point she preferred the bad news up front. She took a steadying breath and gazed at him directly.

      “Has something else happened with Bruce, Mr. Jackson?”

      Mitch noted her tense grip on the coffee cup and looked at her quizzically. “Not that I know of.”

      Her brow wrinkled in puzzlement. “Then why…? I mean,