Take My Hand. Ruth Scofield

a new classroom so late in the year. But you’ll make friends here, and we’ll find out how to help each other. Okay?”

      At the boy’s continued silence, J.D. glanced at her, a hint of desperation there. Since she knew the pitfalls of getting personally caught up in the parents’ plights, Alexis tried to firm her heart against that soulful gaze. But a trace of compassion seeped through.

      “Never mind for the moment. Clifford, why don’t you take this desk here—” she tapped the desk closest to hers “—and then go look at our aquarium back there in the corner until the other students are back from Music.”

      “I’m not Clifford.” He thrust his chin out. “I’m Cliff.”

      “All right. Cliff. We have a turtle in our tank as well as fish. See if he’s out on the island.”

      The boy impatiently shook off his dad’s hand and headed toward the back corner.

      “That’s it, then.” Relief seemed to ease some of J.D.’s tension as he half turned toward the door. “I’ll pick him up at the end of the day.”

      “Hold on, Mr. Sullivan. We have a few things to discuss.”

      “Uh…like what?” A tinge of alarm edged his voice as he swung back.

      “Like Cliff’s needs. His school record. His meds.”

      “It’s all there, isn’t it? In that file from California?” J.D. flashed a tired, half-belligerent glance at the folder in her hand.

      “I hope so, but I haven’t had a chance to read it, have I?”

      “I can’t tell you anything more than that file can,” he said, as impatient as his son. He glanced at his watch. “We got in to Doc Hanes’s office this morning, so Cliff’s all set now with those pills he’s taking. What else is there?”

      “Well, we have to set up an IEP meeting.”

      “A what?”

      “Individualized Education Plan.”

      “Oh. Yeah. Well…do whatever you have to. I have to go now. I’m late getting my shop open.”

      Alexis tried to hide her annoyance. Most of the parents she dealt with were eager to do what was best for their child, but she ran into an occasional careless one. Like now.

      From the fish tank came a drumming sound. “Cliff, don’t do that!” his father called. Cliff didn’t acknowledge the command to stop.

      “Cliff!”

      His back to them, the boy moved on to pull a book from a shelf, then flip it repeatedly with a slap-slap noise.

      “Sorry.” J.D. shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. A tired sigh escaped him with his apology.

      Alexis nodded, then said, “We should do this within a week or two, Mr. Sullivan.”

      “It’s spring, Miss Richmond. My busy time. Haven’t much time for extras.”

      Alexis thought J.D. was about ready to bolt. She took a step forward and spoke quickly. “An IEP is a required document for any student with a disability, Mr. Sullivan. The law requires a team meeting among parents, teacher, school nurse and principal. It can’t wait.”

      “Me? I have to be there?” Caught in surprise, his glance told her he felt totally helpless. His already dark eyes deepened to melting chocolate. Her heart gave a little kick, swimming against an unwelcome tide. Oh, no…

      She’d run afoul of these natural charmers before, to her own sorrow. A man like this one used it without half trying, and she’d been a sucker once too often. Why couldn’t she simply demand the man’s help, and then forget it? He was the parent, after all. She was merely the teacher.

      A tumble of books hit the cement floor.

      J.D. raised his voice. “Cliff!”

      “I didn’t do it,” the boy instantly whined. “They just fell.”

      “Stop getting into what you shouldn’t,” his father commanded. “How many times do I have to tell you that?”

      Alexis calmly walked over to help pick up the books. “You may read this one while you wait, Cliff,” she said, handing one to the boy. “Take your seat now. The other boys and girls will be back any moment.”

      Sulking, the child slumped into the seat indicated, but immediately began kicking the leg.

      Well-practiced, Alexis ignored the continued noise. Time enough to work with Cliff when his emotions had settled down and he became comfortable in the classroom.

      Walking back to the front of the room, she noticed J.D. had edged toward the door. “The boy is building for a good walloping before long,” he muttered, running his hand through his hair. “If he doesn’t straighten up soon.”

      Maybe J.D. wasn’t so charming after all, Alexis thought. The thought of “walloping” any child put her back up. But he was a father on the edge. A parent who needed help. “I don’t think a spanking would solve anything….”

      He rubbed a spot between his eyes with his thumb. “Kept me up and down three nights running since he came. My ex spoiled him rotten….”

      That explained some of the irritation.

      “Both of you must be worn out,” she said, letting her sympathy show. “It does take time to adjust to a new environment, Mr. Sullivan. I’m sure Cliff’s behavior will improve once we get him settled and he understands where his boundaries are. Now about the IEP…”

      “Uh-huh. Um…what is it again?”

      “An Individualized Education Plan for Cliff. It sets out the goals for a child for one full calendar year. His meds intake should have a firm routine as a part of that. I’ll call you after I’ve looked over the papers, to set up the meeting.”

      “The school year is winding down, isn’t it? Don’t see what good it would do this late.”

      “More than you can imagine, Mr. Sullivan. At least we’ll have a handle on Cliff’s problems for next year, as well. We need to be in agreement here, with all parties involved in full understanding of what’s best for Cliff. What we’re trying to accomplish for your son.”

      “Yeah, okay. Well, you’re the teacher,” he said with an air of finality. “Anything you say, I’ll do it.”

      With that, J. D. Sullivan nearly raced from the room.

      “A paddle would do more good, if you ask me,” J.D. muttered all the way out to his truck. “Even just the threat. Brat!”

      He turned the ignition key of his ’79 truck, put the shift into gear and barely refrained from roaring out of the school parking lot. Here it was noon, and there was no one minding his shop.

      He continued to talk to himself. “Melanie did a good job at spoiling the kid. Only one way to fix that.”

      Yet J.D. wasn’t ready to actually carry out his threat. He’d never laid a hand on Cliff in anger—nor on Melanie, in spite of their volatile marriage. But Cliff was only four when Melanie took him from Missouri to California, and now… J.D. simply didn’t know what to do with the son now in his keeping. He’d missed the past five years of fathering.

      It was all well and good for smooth-as-silk Miss Richmond to talk. With that fancy education the principal had told him about, Miss Richmond could spout with ease all that stuff that modern teachers knew about how a misbehaving child should be taught. But that wouldn’t help him at home. How was he supposed to cope when Cliff hated him? When they didn’t know each other? When the boy whined constantly?

      In the alley off Sunny Creek’s main street, he pulled into his spot behind the shop and sat a moment. He leaned his head against his fist, his elbow supported on the steering wheel. He let his breath whoosh from his lungs. He was already tired,