“YOU’VE GOT to be kidding me!” Angie said after Beau got off the phone and told her about his conversation. “The Beast of St. Giles is going to come here to volunteer some of his time?” She shuddered, and he had a feeling it wasn’t for dramatic effect. “There is no way you can allow that. And he’s going to work with the kids? He’ll have those sweet little things traumatized beyond all recognition.”
“He was great with them at the dinner. Bobby likes him and even sent him cookies.” Beau stepped to the desk where she was handling some of the mountains of paperwork that helped keep them funded. Angie had great skill in getting money out of turnips… and everyone else.
She gasped. “You’ve only been here a few months, so you probably haven’t heard what he did. He was married, and his wife died… let me see… almost three years ago. People say they were never in love and only married because his father forced him to just to get his inheritance, and after he got it, they say he killed her. The authorities investigated, but he had too much money and influence… and got off.” The last part was hissed under her breath.
“You believe these rumors?” Beau looked down his nose.
“I don’t know. Sometimes rumor is a bunch of hogwash, but often there’s a nugget of truth that started it. The thing is, I don’t want to be the one to find out.” She turned back to her computer. “Just let me know when he’s going to be here so I can work from home.” With that pronouncement she returned to her work.
Beau didn’t know what to say. He had no facts to back the rumors up, but other than probably wanting to be alone and not the target of rumor and speculation, he hadn’t seen anything in Dante that he read as beastly. Well, other than putting the mayor in his place, which from what he’d heard wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
“Angie….” He hardened his gaze until she looked up at him.
“What?” she snapped.
“This is a crisis and counseling center. We help everyone, and if Dante Bartholomew is willing to give of his time for us, then we’re going to take it and make sure he feels welcome.” He leaned over the desk. “That means treating him like we do the rest of our volunteers. Apparently he also gave his entire household staff the day off so they could help us here as well.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, the Beast got his own people to help us.”
Beau shook his head and held his temper, taking a deep breath. “Dante is going to try to help us. He gives plenty to support our work.” He saw he wasn’t getting through, so he changed tack. “What if the rumors are wrong? You never impressed me as the kind of person who judged people based on talk. You help everyone here, and you’re going to turn your back on him?”
“Dang you…,” she muttered and then groaned. “Fine. I’ll be nice to him.”
“Just treat him like you would anyone else. You don’t need to treat him special.”
She nodded. “But if he’s mean to any of the kids, or to me, so help me….”
“I don’t think you need to worry about him being mean to anyone, unless it’s the mayor. Then it’s no holds barred.” He had to smile, and Angie pursed her lips.
“That little nugget was all over town in five minutes. I wish I’d have been there to see him put that old goat and his lemon-sucking wife in their place.” She sighed once again, mirth filling her eyes. “Okay. I’ll give him a chance….” She held up her index finger. “One.”
Smiling, Beau left her to get back to work while he went to find his group of kids.
One of the programs he’d instituted since coming here was for families. Addiction affected more than the addict. Their spouses, children, and parents all suffered in one form or another. His biggest success had been with the youngsters. Beau had set up one room in the facility specifically for them, with bulletin boards, brightly colored walls, and puzzle-square carpet. He wanted kids to feel comfortable in the space when he met with them. Beau worked with the school and parents to help these kids get the support they needed. He only had them a few times a week for a couple of hours, but he loved his work and wouldn’t trade it for anything.
“Mr. Beau,” Bobby called as he entered the room. Bobby hurried over and Beau knelt down for a hug, then got one from each of the kids in turn. “Did he get the cookies we made?”
“Yes, he did, and I’m told he liked them.” Beau leaned close. “He’s going to come in for our next meeting and help out. So you all need to be nice to him.”
“He’s a beast,” Kendra said, her arms folded over her chest. “My mommy said so.”
“You’re just a goody-two-shoes know-it-all,” Hank told her, then stuck out his tongue.
“That’s enough of that,” Beau said gently, even though he agreed with Hank. Kendra thought she knew everything about everything, and whatever her mother said might as well have been a pronouncement from God. “You don’t need to come next time if you don’t want to, but Mr. Bartholomew is going to help us.”
“Will he bring ice cream?” Bobby asked. That was why Beau loved these kids so much. There was little guile in them. They said what they were thinking and what they wanted.
“I don’t know. But that isn’t why he’s coming.” Beau stood and got the kids into a circle. Most of their time together was playtime, with him asking a few questions. He had to tread carefully, as some of these kids were still half scared of their own shadows. When the kids first came to him, they were aggressive and misbehaved a lot. Kendra was the newest addition to the group, but her acting out took the form of always having to be right. It was annoying, but she was getting better, right along with her mother.
“But he’s mean,” Kendra said softly.
“Has he ever been mean to you?” Beau asked, then waited while she muttered her answer and lowered her arms in defeat. “We should listen to Mommy and Daddy, but it’s also okay to make up your own mind about people.” He smiled, and Kendra gave him a tiny grin. “Now, let’s do something.”
“I want to make a picture for Mr. Dante,” Bobby said before rushing over to the table with the tub of colored pencils. Beau got him some paper while the others decided what they wanted to do. Some of the kids liked to play on their own. Bobby was one of those. His father had become addicted to painkillers after back surgery, and at times he’d gotten aggressive when he needed the pills he didn’t have.
“How is your dad?” Beau asked, sitting next to Bobby once Angie came in and started the others in a game of duck, duck, goose.
Bobby nodded but didn’t answer right away. “He scares me,” he finally answered without looking away from his picture.
“Is he angry, like before?” Beau hoped he wasn’t using again. It was a constant threat for these kids. Just when things got better for them… they rode a roller coaster of sobriety and relapse.
“No.” Bobby continued coloring and then put down his pencil. He turned, lower lip quivering, tears pooling in his eyes. “Daddy says he wants to get married… and not to Mommy. Kendra says that means I’m going to have an evil stepmother like Cinderella did.” He threw his arms around Beau’s neck and held him tight. “I don’t wanna have an evil stepmother.”
There were times when Beau wanted to laugh. He knew he couldn’t, though. “Have you met the lady your daddy wants to marry?” When Bobby nodded against his shirt, he asked, “Is she nice?”
“She made me gluten-free cookies. She said she’s a nurse at the hospital.” Bobby sniffled, wiping his nose with his hand.
“If she’s nice, then she can’t be evil. She’ll be your stepmother, yes. But she doesn’t sound like she’s evil to me.” Sometimes kids, especially the ones who had seen true hardship, took stories too much to heart.
“But what if she turns evil? She isn’t a stepmother yet.” He pulled back a little to rub his eyes.
“I don’t think she’s going to turn evil. Does she spend time with you and your dad?” Beau asked, and Bobby nodded. “Do you like her?”
“She’s nice. She took me on a bike ride. We raced and I won. She laughed and said I was going to grow up strong like my daddy.” Bobby blinked.
“Then I think she’s going to be a good stepmother. I had one of those.”
“You did?” Bobby asked as though he’d never thought about it.
“I did. My mommy died when I was your age, and my daddy got married again. Her name is Rose and I love her like she was my mother.” Beau had been very lucky in that regard. “No evil at all. Though she did take away my NES when I was naughty, but she always gave it back. She’s a very nice lady, and it sounds like yours is going to be too. Why don’t you draw a picture for her?” He gently held Bobby until he moved out of his arms and went back to drawing.
“Is he okay?” Angie asked once Beau left Bobby to his task and the kids were playing their game.
Beau nodded and sighed. Dealing with the emotional load the kids couldn’t was sometimes the most difficult part of his job. These kids were innocents, affected by the actions of others. “How is the game?”
“Fine, though they’re going to get tired of it soon.”
“Then let’s have them color on their own. We can ask each of them to draw a picture of their mother or father. Sometimes those pictures can tell us a lot about what’s going on in their heads. Words can be hard for them, but they can and do express themselves.”
Beau got things ready while Angie ended the game, and then the kids came to the tables. They set to work, and Beau talked to each one in turn, asking them how they were doing and getting hugs, sometimes drying tears, especially from Kendra, who was a bundle of nerves and fear once he got under her façade.
By the time the morning was over and the kids had been picked up, Beau was exhausted. He slumped behind his desk in his tiny private office to clear his email and see to what else needed to be done. The benefit a few weeks earlier had brought a nice influx of cash, and the drive continued to bring in donations. So at least for now, they were doing fairly well, though just barely staying on budget.
A knock pulled him out of his review of the Center’s finances. “It’s open.” He set the spreadsheet printout aside and smiled as an older gentleman came in. “May I help you?”
“Hello. I’m Roberts. I work for Mr. Bartholomew.”
“Yes, I talked to you on the phone.” Beau kept his smile in place. “Is there something I can help you with?” He motioned to a chair, and Roberts sat down slowly.
“We are set to volunteer in a few days, and I thought it best to see you and determine if there was anything that you’d like us to bring or provide.” He tugged his suit coat until it was completely wrinkle-free. It made Beau feel underdressed in his red polo shirt and khaki pants.
“You don’t need to bring anything. We appreciate you being generous with your time.” Beau stood and walked to the door to close it. “I get the feeling there’s something you want to talk about.”
Roberts nodded. “I know the rumors that float around town. I hear them—we all do. But I don’t believe any of them.”
Beau nodded carefully. “I don’t put much faith in rumor either, though it seems most of the town does.” He gathered his papers into a small pile to clean up his messy desk. “Were you here when the incidents that seem to be the source of the rumors happened?”
“No. Mr. Bartholomew’s father passed away a little over three years ago, just before the incidents, though his father’s passing does figure into some of the rumors. I came to work for Mr. Bartholomew after his father died.”
“What is it you’re trying to say?” Beau asked, furrowing his brow.
“I’m asking that you give him a chance.” There was genuine affection in Robert’s eyes, and that sat very well with Beau. If he could engender such loyalty from the people who worked directly with him, then that told Beau a great deal about the man himself.
“Mr. Bartholomew is coming here to volunteer and to give of himself. That is something I always appreciate. Some of our programs wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for the countless volunteer hours given generously and selflessly. I appreciate Mr. Bartholomew agreeing to volunteer.” Beau was beginning to wonder just what he was getting himself into. Never in his life had so much fuss been made over one person’s choice to spend a few hours at the Center. Heck, he was starting to wonder if a presidential or royal visit warranted this much fuss.
“Thank you.” Roberts stood, and Beau followed suit. “Mr. Bartholomew wanted me to ask if the children will be here the day he’s coming.”
“Yes. I thought he’d work with them. He seemed to hit it off with Bobby at the dinner, and Bobby’s been asking about him.”
“Excellent. Thank you.” Roberts left the office, and Beau closed the door after him, wondering what in the heck all that was about. He didn’t have much time, though; his next appointment was in ten minutes, and he needed a chance to get ready.
The rest of the day was one appointment or group session after another. The demands on the Center had continued to grow since his arrival because of an increase in various street drugs. Beau was exhausted by the time he left the Center, well after most people had had dinner. He stopped at a diner to pick up an order he’d called in and took it home to the apartment the Center provided for him just two blocks away.
He trudged up the stairs and inside the one-bedroom, three-room place. He had a small living room, kitchen, and bedroom, plus a large bathroom, which made the apartment worth all its other challenges. He locked the door, grabbed a bottle of water from the mostly empty refrigerator, and sat on the sofa to eat his club sandwich and salad.
He’d just finished his salad and was unwrapping his sandwich when his phone rang. “Hi,” he said brightly when he answered.
“Are you okay? You haven’t called in a while, and your father was worried.” That was his stepmother’s code for she was worried and had to call.
“I’m just fine. Been really busy, too busy, since the fundraiser.” Which they had attended. “I’m getting plenty of volunteers, including the town’s most elusive citizen.”
She gasped. “You mean that beast man? Everyone at the dinner was talking about him. He apparently killed his wife because he got tired of her, so he wouldn’t have to give her half of what he has in a divorce.” She clicked her lips. “You be careful of that man. I didn’t like the look of him.”
That was strange, because Dante Bartholomew was more than easy on the eyes. “You have to be kidding…. He’s take-me-out-and-shoot-me gorgeous, and you know it.” Dark hair and eyes as deep as the earth, rich olive skin that gave him a touch of the dreamy, and a body that could only be hinted at under those clothes.
“You are not allowed to be smitten with him.”
“Smitten?” Beau laughed. “I love your words sometimes.” She read a lot, mainly mysteries, and right now she must be reading Victorian stories of intrigue and drawing rooms. “No, I’m not smitten, and I don’t like it when people call others names.” He cleared his throat. “His family foundation gave enough in that one night to pay my salary for the next year.”
“I’m just saying—”
“That you listened to idle gossip,” he said, giving her a little dose of guilt.
“Where there’s smoke, there’s fire,” she countered. “And everyone was talking about it. I heard the story from three different people.”
“That may be, but I saw something else.” Beau couldn’t say quite what it was. He’d only been with Dante for a few hours, but he didn’t see a killer in those eyes. He’d seemed shy and hadn’t talked to many people at all. It was clear Dante had a temper, especially with the way he took on the mayor, but most of the night he’d been quiet and rather withdrawn. Maybe still waters ran deep—and in this case, dangerous—but Beau’s gut told him there was something else going on.
“I see. Is that your professional opinion?” she snipped at him.
“Nope. But it is mine and I’m allowed to have it.” He grinned. “Oh, I have to tell you. I used you as an example today.” He relayed the crux of what Bobby had said without telling her his name or getting into much detail.
“I’m glad I’m not in the evil category.” She chuckled. “Downright relieved, as a matter of fact.”
“Me too.” Beau sat back, looking longingly at his dinner. “I need to finish eating.”
“All right, honey. Call us when you get a chance.”
She hung up, and Beau put the phone on the table, instantly wishing he’d kept talking to her. The apartment was quiet, lonely, and didn’t yet feel like home. This wasn’t his first job, but it had taken him far enough away that it felt like it. He turned on the television and ate his sandwich. Once he was done, he took care of the paper and dishes before settling on the sofa to watch a movie, but dropped off to sleep well before it was time for him to go to bed.
THE DAYS slipped by in a whirl of activity, and Beau had no idea why he was nervous. People were volunteering to help, which happened all the time, but for some reason, he was keyed up about Dante coming in.
“Settle down. This isn’t a visit from His Holiness.” Angie sat at her desk, doing her normal work. “Do you like this guy or something?” She made an ewww face as soon as she said the words. “Look, I don’t care how dreamy he looks. You are not allowed to… whatever… God, don’t make me say it… just no!”
Beau grinned. “So you think he’s dreamy?” he teased just so he could watch Angie get all red in the face.
“That’s what you took away from that?” She looked on the verge of having a fit. Beau had to stop himself from laughing.
“It’s what you said.” He sighed dramatically. “And you’re right. He is dreamy and I wonder…. Those tuxedos hide everything… but….” He fanned himself, and Angie sprang to her feet.
“You are not allowed to….” She glared at him. “You meanie, pain in the ass! You are so not allowed to tease me like that.” She waved her finger at him, and Beau grinned like an idiot. At the very least, his nervousness was gone.
“Come on. Give me some credit. I don’t even know the man, other than talking to him for a little while.” Besides, he wasn’t going to go into the fact that Dante Bartholomew obviously traveled quite a bit and met a ton of people. He could have any good-looking man he wanted, as long as they weren’t from St. Giles, apparently. Why would he be interested in someone as plain and… well…. Beau pushed the thought from his head. He didn’t need to go into his issues at the moment. And he certainly wasn’t going to be showing them to Dante. “Besides, I never said anything about being interested in him other than having him help here at the Center. The rest of it was all on you.”
Angie cocked her grin just a little. “It’s a gift.” She winked.
“I’ve heard it called many things, but never that.” He folded his arms over his chest.
“A dirty mind is a terrible thing to waste.” She turned away, then quickly spun back. “And speak of the devil,” she whispered, the smile falling from her lips as Dante entered the building through the front doors and approached the desk rather hesitantly.
“Hello,” Beau said. “I’m Beau. We talked at the dinner.”
“I remember.” Dante shook his hand. “Do I need to sign in or something?”
Angie handed him a form, and Dante filled it out, signed it, and handed it back.
“I’ve never done this sort of thing before. What do you want me to do?”
“Well, Bobby has been asking about you.” Beau motioned down the hall, then paused. “Actually, he keeps asking if you’re going to bring ice cream with you.”
“Harriet will be over in half an hour, and I’m told she made an entire batch to share. I expect that everyone in the Center will probably go into a sugar coma by the time she’s done.” Dante smiled, and danged if he didn’t light up. His teeth were perfectly white and his smile was infectious, making Beau smile as well.
“We’re right down here,” he said, leading Dante to the room. “The kids will come here in a few minutes, and they stay for a couple of hours. I talk to each of them to see how things are with them, and if you can organize some games and activities with them, that would be great.”
“What games? What sort of things do they like? I don’t know any games.”
“They like to color, and there are plenty of board games that will work. Just be yourself.” Beau felt sorry for the guy; he looked lost. “These are kids who have had a hard time of it already. Their parent or parents have substance-abuse issues. Some of them have mixed feelings about their parents. They love them, but they hate them too because of what they’ve done.”
“Okay.” Dante appeared ready to bolt, his gaze darting around the room.
“Just be caring and thoughtful. You don’t need to talk about anything other than what you’re doing. This is a safe place for them. If one of them starts to cry, be caring and understanding. Sometimes something innocent will trigger a response from them. It isn’t your fault if it happens.” Beau walked to a plastic tub and pulled off the lid. “You can start with this if you’d like. There are thousands of Lego blocks. Think of something fun and ask them to make it. Use your imagination.”
“All right.”
“I’m going to be here with you, so you have nothing to worry about. Have some fun.” Beau smiled.
“What about Roberts and the others?”
“Angie will be working with them. There is so much we could use help with, and she’s the queen of organization.”
Dante chuckled. “Wait till she meets Roberts. He’s the king.” Dante picked through the blocks and began absently putting them together.
“Do you have any questions?” Beau asked, catching Dante’s gaze. Heat sprang up inside, and a slight sheen of sweat broke out on the back of his neck. He turned away and took a deep breath. When he turned back, Dante was still looking at him. Beau cleared his throat to try to speak, but his voice didn’t work. Being the subject of that gaze was completely unexpected. Beau had seen heat and lust in people before. He knew what they looked like, and that look had both but something else as well—longing and fear. Beau was well acquainted with both of those as well. Within seconds they disappeared, replaced with the same steely cold Beau had seen while Dante had been talking to the mayor.
“No. I can work with the kids.” Blinking and remaining stern, he turned to where the kids would sit in their small group, taking in the space again.
“Mr. Beau!” Bobby called as he raced into the room, followed by Kendra, Hank, Lila, Raymond, and Phillip. They all stopped about three steps in, staring at Dante.
Maybe having Dante come in was a really bad idea. Beau had thought that talking to them last time would smooth the way. This had all the makings of an emotional train wreck.
Bobby hurried to him, gave Beau a hug, and then went right over to Dante. “Did you get the cookies? I had to make them without gluten.”
“They were delicious. Thank you.” Dante stood still, like he was frozen, and Beau willed him to act the way he had at the dinner.
Bobby tugged on his arm, and Dante finally knelt down. “Did you hang the picture?”
“Yup. Just like I promised. It’s in my office.”
Bobby whooped and raced back to the other kids. “See?” he said, standing right in front of Kendra, hands on his hips. “I told you he promised.”
Beau covered his mouth to keep from laughing. “Why don’t you all come over here and say hello to Mr. Dante?”
They approached slowly, especially when Dante stood. The man was huge and had to be intimidating to these small kids.
“He’s a giant,” Raymond said from the back of the group. “Will he eat us?”
Finally Dante smiled. “I’m not a giant. I’m just tall.”
“He looks like a giant.” Raymond clearly wasn’t going to come any closer.
“Dang,” Beau said under his breath. Raymond’s father—his estranged father; he now lived with his mother—was as tall as Dante, and he could almost see the triggers going off in the little boy’s head. This could be good for him, but only if it became a positive experience, though that possibility seemed to be flying out the door by the second.
“Mr. Beau and I thought it would be fun to play Legos.” Dante picked up the container of blocks and dumped it in a pile on the floor. “Can we see who can make the best house?” Dante sat down, and bless Bobby, he plopped right down next to him.
“I want to make a blue house,” Bobby said, beginning to pull out all the blue blocks.
“I like the blue ones,” Kendra said and joined them, if only to defend her territory.
Hank hurried over and started picking out the white blocks.
“You can make a red house,” Dante told Kendra when it seemed she and Bobby were going to get into a fight. “I like the red ones.”
Dang it all if Dante didn’t smile, and Beau’s heart did a little flutter as Kendra backed off for the first time and put the blue blocks she’d been clutching in front of Bobby and began gathering the red ones.
The others hurried over, and soon all of them, except Raymond, who stood next to Beau, holding his hand, his thumb in his mouth, were on the floor, building.
“It’s okay. Mr. Dante is nice,” Beau told him as gently as he could. Raymond shook his head and moved behind him to try to hide. Beau turned and kept himself between Raymond and Dante. “Is there something you want to tell me about?” Sometimes it was best if he could get them to talk. They didn’t always have the words, but sometimes they found them.
Raymond pulled his thumb out of his mouth. “He scares me.”
“Why?” Beau asked. “Can you tell me?”
Raymond leaned to the side to look around his legs. “He’s big.” He looked again and then lifted his gaze. “Where are his horns and big teeth?”
“He’s just a person, like you and me.” Beau leaned down, gazing over at Dante, who didn’t seem at all like any of the rumors he’d heard. Dante turned and looked at him. A zing of heat went right through him. Beau nearly gasped at a moment of sudden insight that hit home when Bobby and Kendra turned to him as well. Each of the kids in the group, no matter how happy they were at the moment, all had that hint of wariness in their eyes, as though they expected the happiness to be short-lived and everything to fall apart once again. He expected to see that with the kids; what he didn’t expect was for Dante to have that same darkness. Somehow Dante had been touched by the same pain and hurt as these kids.
“Do you want to go over with me and make a house? We can do it together.”
Raymond stared and then nodded slowly.
Beau walked him over, still holding his hand. He considered it a good sign that Raymond didn’t put his thumb back in his mouth. They both sat down, everyone making room for them, and Raymond grabbed blocks with one hand, still holding Beau’s for a few minutes. Then he pulled away, using both hands to gather the blocks.
“Do you want these?” Dante asked, holding out a few pieces, and Raymond stopped, hesitated, and then nodded. Dante handed them to him. Raymond continued playing but kept looking up at Dante.
What Beau hadn’t expected was the way Dante returned Raymond’s gaze… with understanding. Somehow Dante knew what these kids were feeling, and Beau wondered how addiction had touched Dante’s life. It obviously had somehow.
“Bobby, do you want to talk for a few minutes?” Beau asked, but Bobby shook his head.
“I’m playing with Mr. Dante.” Bobby looked at Dante and then returned to his building. Even Kendra, who had been so vocal regarding the Beast at their earlier session, seemed content to play.
“Was your daddy nice?” Bobby asked. It may have seemed like a strange question, but Beau knew it was Bobby’s way of asking if Dante’s dad was like his dad and the roller coaster of addiction and treatment he’d been through.
“Not really,” Dante answered. “My dad….” He paused and then took a look at Beau, who nodded. Being honest with kids was the best way to win them over. “My dad liked to be in control, so when he said something, that was how it was. He didn’t like it when I wanted to do things that he didn’t want.”
“My mommy says I have to do what she says because it’s to keep me safe,” Raymond volunteered. Beau knew in that second that Dante had won him over.
“Yes. And mommies and daddies want their kids to be safe. But my dad made me get married when I didn’t want to.”
“Ewww,” all the kids said in near unison.
“To a girl.” Hank made a yucky face. “I don’t want to marry a girl.”
“You can marry a boy if you want.”
Hank thought about it. “I don’t want to marry anyone. But especially not a girl. They’re yucky.”
“We are not,” Kendra immediately countered. “Boys are yucky, not girls.”
“Okay,” Beau said, bringing an end to the argument. “What Dante means is that if you get married, it should be to someone you love and want to marry. Your dad shouldn’t tell you who to marry.”
Kendra looked up from where she was concentrating on building the walls of her red house. “Your daddy made you marry someone you didn’t want to?” She turned to Beau. “My mommy told me once that she didn’t want to marry Daddy, but he made her pregnant with me and she had to marry him.” Her hands began to shake, dropping the blocks she held. “She said it was my fault that her life got messed up.” Her lower lip quivered, and Beau took her hand to guide her away from the others, then knelt down and hugged her.
“You know that what happened to your mommy isn’t your fault.” He loved each of these kids and cared deeply about them. They were faultless in their parents’ messed-up lives, but sometimes they thought they were to blame for everything that was wrong.
“But what if it was?” she asked, tears streaking down her cheeks.
“It’s not. You’re a good girl, and what happened to your mommy was never, ever your fault.” Sometimes all he could do was reassure these kids. Trying to counter the careless things some parents said was nearly impossible. He let her cry on his shoulder, and once she was done, she went back to building her house.
“Okay. You all finish working on your houses and I’ll be right back. The best ones get a treat.” Dante stood and worked the kinks out of his legs, then walked over to Beau. “I’m sorry if I said anything that hurt her.”
“You didn’t. These kids have so many hidden triggers, it’s like a minefield sometimes, and hitting them in this environment is safe because I can help them deal with it.” Beau smiled. “Go ahead and have fun with them. It’s what they need, and believe it or not, you’re helping each of them.” Beau sat back down and so did Dante.
After working for a while longer, the kids declared their buildings complete.
“You all made such great houses,” Dante said, looking at each one.
“Who gets the treat?” Bobby asked, eyes wide.
“Well….” Dante made a show of thinking about it. “How about… all of you?”
“Is it ice cream?” Bobby asked, and Dante’s grin was almost as big as Bobby’s when he nodded. “Yay! Mr. Dante has the bestest ice cream ever!”
“Harriet arranged to bring some with her. I’m sure if you find her, she’ll be able to tell you where it is,” Dante said. He certainly knew how to win friends and influence people.
Beau pulled out his phone and called the front desk. Angie answered, and he asked about their treat.
“Harriet will be down in a few minutes. She’s in the kitchen area getting things dished up.”
“You’re one step ahead of me.” Beau hung up and told the kids to put their houses on the shelf, then clean up all the remaining blocks and put them in the tub. They moved their creations, which all looked remarkably house-like, and scooped up the blocks.
A woman with her hair pulled into a bun came in carrying a tray. “I hope you all like chocolate,” she said gently, and six youngsters all jumped up and down at once.
“Sit at the table,” Beau said, and they scrambled into their seats. Harriet handed them each a bowl with a spoon, and they went at it like they were all starving to death. “Thank you,” Beau told Harriet and Dante as he watched over his charges.
“The wee ones are adorable,” Harriet said with a slight smile. “You just call up to the house and I can make you a batch in no time.” She watched them with a grin on her lips.
“Thank you, Harriet. I appreciate all your help,” Dante said softly, and once again, Beau wondered about the inconsistencies in this man. If he was such a Beast, why did the kids and the people who worked for him act the way they did?
“They seem so happy,” Harriet said, then grabbed some napkins and handed one to each child.
“First and foremost, they’re kids,” Beau said gently. “They’ve had harder lives than most….”
Harriet excused herself, saying, “I’ll be back for the dishes.” She turned. “I have to check on the not-so-wee ones. They’re messier.” She smiled and left the room.
“She’s something else,” Beau observed.
“Yes, she is. But do not go anywhere near her kitchen when she’s working. She’ll bite your head off if you mess up her system.” Dante chuckled.
Beau knew it was early in their friendship, but this man was nothing like the one that had been described to him. Where was this Beast that everyone talked about? Kids could tell if someone was inherently mean or bad, and they avoided them. Dante had been generous, thoughtful, and understanding with the kids and with him.
Dante’s phone rang and he tugged it out of his pocket. “Is there somewhere I can take this?” When Beau pointed to the door to the small room next door, Dante answered the call and left the room. He spoke quietly into the phone as Beau went to check on the kids.
“Are you almost done?” Beau asked. “If you are, please wipe your hands and face with the napkins and put your bowls and silverware back on the tray. Then you can color for me. Why don’t you each draw something that makes you happy?”
They hurried to the tray and took care of the dishes. Beau set them up with paper and colored pencils, and they got busy. Beau then went to check on Dante. He knocked on the door and cracked it open so make sure he was okay.
“Fire him!” Dante hissed into the phone. “I want him off the premises today! I will not stand for that in any way.” The fire in Dante’s voice was freezing enough to send a cold chill up Beau’s spine. “You heard me. Right now. Today. Get him gone.” Dante stabbed at the phone with his finger, and Beau closed the door and hurried back over to the kids. He checked on their work and watched the door. Dante came out, phone put away, and walked to where the kids were working as though nothing had happened. Beau caught his gaze and couldn’t help wondering if he’d just seen the Beast in action.
“What are you drawing?” Dante asked.
“Mr. Beau said to draw what makes us happy.” Bobby held up what looked like dish of ice cream. Next to it was a piece of cake that had been crossed out. “Ice cream… not cake.”
Dante chuckled. “That’s really good. How about you, Kendra?”
“This is my dolly, Brenda. She used to sleep with me every night.” Kendra’s lower lip quivered. “But when we had to move, she got left behind and….”
“She looks very pretty. What color is her hair?”
“She had black hair like me. She was a Cabbage Patch doll, and I loved her a lot. She kept the monsters away at night. But now she’s gone. Mommy says that I’m a big girl now and that I should be able to sleep on my own.” Dante appeared to be searching for words to comfort her, but must have come up empty and just hugged her.
Dante asked each of the kids what they were drawing and listened to their answers.
“It’s time to go—your parents will be picking you up soon. Put your things away and say goodbye to Mr. Dante.” Beau accepted hugs, and so did Dante, each child saying goodbye and Bobby giving Mr. Dante a big hug. Then they filed out, and Beau went through the room, putting everything to rights and cleaning up.
“You did very well,” he told Dante, who stood out of the way. “They really liked you.”
“They’re great kids,” Dante said softly. “Is there anything else I can do?”
It was obvious Dante was getting anxious to go. He probably had places he needed to be. “You can go if you like. I appreciate you coming in to spend time with the kids. They need to be exposed to new people, ones who are safe and will help expand their comfort zones.” Beau didn’t know what else to say. He was curious about this man and wanted to ask him so many questions that he didn’t have a right to.
“It was a nice afternoon.”
“I’m glad. I hope you’ll come back again.” Regular volunteers were worth their weight in gold.
“I have to travel in a few weeks, but I will call and arrange to come back.” Dante walked toward the door. “This is a really special place….” He put his hand on the knob to leave.
“Maybe you’d like to get together for dinner or something?” Beau almost put his hand over his lips once he realized what he’d said, then backpedaled to try to figure out a way to make what he’d said sound less… needy… less datey. “You give a lot of money to keep programs like this running and I hate to ask for anything more, but I have some ideas, and maybe you could help me plan how to raise the money to make them happen.” That sounded pretty good to him. Beau waited for few seconds, sure Dante was going to give him the brush-off.
“I….” Dante paused and then nodded slowly. “Sure. That would be nice.” He pulled out his phone. “I have conference calls tomorrow night, but I’m free on Saturday. Why don’t you come to the house and we can have dinner and talk? Say, around seven o’clock. Is that okay?”
“Of course.” Beau had nothing in particular to do.
“That would be great. I’ll see you then.” Dante left the room, and Beau wondered what the hell he’d just done.
BEAU SPENT the night thinking of Dante and knew he was in real trouble. All night long he saw those eyes, and more than once he’d woken up jittery and sweaty. Thankfully, the morning came quickly enough, and Beau spent it handling appointments.
He usually packed his lunch, but today he walked down the street to the lunch counter in the department store that had been there since the Roosevelt presidency. The lady behind the counter had probably worked there on opening day. She was kind and knew everyone and everything that happened in town.
“Hi, Beau, honey. You’ve been gone awhile.” She handed him a menu as he perched on one of the old stools with the red leatherette seats.
“I’ve been really busy and… it’s good to see you, Gloria.” He smiled. She was one of the first people he’d met when he’d moved to town.
“I hear about the good work you’re doing here.”
“Thanks.”
“I also hear that you had the Beast volunteer yesterday.” She caught his gaze. “People here talk about everything.”
“That’s what I’m counting on.” Beau swallowed hard. “I spent hours with him yesterday, and I don’t quite get it. I’ve seen him tear the mayor a new one, and I heard him on the phone with his business, where he sounded as cold as the Arctic. But his staff looks at him like he hung the moon, and he won over all the kids in a matter of minutes. Raymond….”
“Yes. That little boy who was terrorized by his dad.” Gloria brought him a Coke and set it in front of him.
“He was scared of Dante, but Dante won Raymond over. I don’t get it.” Beau was usually so good at reading people, but Dante confused him. Beau purposely kept his own opinions to himself. “Kids know who they trust.”
“Yes, they do.”
“I was hoping you knew the real story.” Beau figured she could shed some light on all this.
“I don’t think anyone knows the real story except Dante.” The note of sadness in her eyes told him some of what he wanted to know. “As a kid, Dante was always wild and full of energy. He used to come in here and could liven the place up just by walking in the door.” She patted Beau’s hand gently. “I remember when….” She sighed. “There are some things I know, or at least I think I know. Apparently his father told Dante that in order to get his inheritance, he was going to have to get married, which surprised a lot of us because Dante was gay as far as we all knew. But he married Allison. She was his best friend, and we hoped they could make a go of it. Less than two years later, both Dante’s father and his wife were dead. People said she fell down the stairs, and there was a lot of speculation that she was pushed. People stayed away from him, and Dante hasn’t left the house very much since, except when he goes out of town. He runs the porcelain works from the house, and we rarely see him. When he is in town, people walk on the other side of the street.” Gloria wiped her eyes. “He’s surly and rarely talks to anyone.”
“Then why did he come to the benefit dinner?” Beau sipped from the glass and set it back down without taking his gaze away from hers.
“Probably because someone told him he had to. Dante hasn’t done any of those things since his wife died, and if he volunteered with you, then that’s some sort of miracle as well.”
“We’re having dinner tomorrow at his house, and… I asked him to talk over some new programs for the Center. At least that’s what I told him.” Beau finally broke her gaze.
She smiled. “You like him.” Gloria took his hand in hers. “You know, there’s nothing wrong with that, and maybe Dante deserves someone in his life. But be careful. There’s a lot of hurt in him, and it’s got to come out sometime.”
“I….” Beau swallowed really hard. “Was Dante’s father… ever abusive… or did he drink… or anything?” Hell, this was hard.
“Hiram? God no. That man never touched a drink of anything in his life. He hated the stuff, and as for anything else….” She shook her head. “The abusive part….” She paused. “I don’t like to speak ill of the dead.”
“Telling the truth is just that.”
“I don’t know if he was abusive per se… but he was controlling as all hell. No one in that factory did anything without his say-so. What Hiram wanted, Hiram got, and no one argued with him, including Dante. I mean, what kind of man forces a son to marry someone?”
“Was it because he was gay?” Beau asked, and Gloria grabbed a napkin out of one of the dented aluminum holders to wipe her eyes.
“I think so. Hiram was a closed-minded… know-it-all jerk, to put it in a word. I wouldn’t want my worst enemy as his son.” She cleared her throat and turned away. “What can I get for you?”
“How about one of your famous BLTs?” Beau asked, trying to process what she’d told him.
Gloria nodded, wrote out a ticket, and placed it on the board for the kitchen. “I know Dante has secrets, plenty of them, and none of us knows what his marriage was like or what happened that night. Only he knows what happened and he’s told no one. I doubt he will.”
“But why the Beast thing?” Beau asked.
“I don’t know. It developed somehow, and then everyone started referring to him that way.” A bell sounded, and Gloria went to get his food. “Sometimes things really suck, and maybe all it takes is someone willing to look under the surface to see what’s real. Because Lord knows there’s a whole lot of speculation, rumor, and storytelling that’s embellished this tale to near fairy-tale proportions.” She looked down the counter and moved away, filling water glasses as she went.
“That man is a menace,” the guy two stools over said as soon as Gloria was out of hearing range. “He gets off on firing people and refuses to listen to anything.” The man was probably in his late fifties, half slumped over his plate, and his hands shook. “The town would be better off if he dropped dead. He sits in that big house on the hill and lives the high life, while the rest of us scrape out a living in his factory.”
“Marv, that’s enough,” Gloria said. “You lost your position because you were drinking on the job, and you know it.”
“I did my work, and that bastard fired me. Came down from on high to do it himself, with this smug, satisfied look on his face.”
“Are you still drinking?” Beau asked gently.
“What’s it to you?” Marv snapped. From the smell and look of him, he clearly was, but making the judgment wasn’t going to help.
Beau reached in his pocket, pulled out a card, and handed it to him. “If you want some help, come by.” He had already learned that people had to want help if there was going to be any chance of success. He turned back to his lunch and ate slowly, checking the time. He was supposed to have dinner with Dante, and more and more, the picture of the man kept getting muddled.
What the hell had he gotten himself into?