Bayview Heights Trilogy (25 page)

She reached up and smoothed her hand down his
face with heart-rending tenderness. “Thanks for thinking of that.
This is a small town. You can put it in the garage.”

Mitch’s car stayed in Cassie’s garage until
Monday morning.

“I DON’T LIKE SURPRISES, Cassie.” Mitch sat
across from Cassie, sipping coffee in the teacher’s lounge on his
last morning at the high school.

Innocent gray-blue eyes peered up at him over
her own mug. In the week since they’d first made love, he’d seen
that look several times. It meant trouble. “All right,” she said.
“I’ll remember that.”

“What’s going on? You met me at the door and
ushered me down here before I could even take my coat off.” He
glanced at his watch. “We were supposed to be in class fifteen
minutes ago.”

“I told you. The guidance counselors are with
the kids talking about the Scholastic Aptitude Test results for
college entrance.”

“On my last day? How convenient.”

“What do you think is going on?”

He wanted to kiss that smug look off her
face. “I’m afraid the kids have planned something to say goodbye to
me.”

“Would that be so bad?”

“Yes. I...” He stopped as his heart gave the
funny little lurch that it did every time he realized he wouldn’t
see the dirty dozen every day. “I’m going to miss them.”

“You’ve been a wonderful influence on them,
Mitch. They’ll miss you, too.” She reached over for his hand and
gave it a brief squeeze. “
I’ll
miss seeing you every
day.”

He arched an insolent brow. “You don’t plan
to see me every day? I got the definite impression last weekend,
and almost every night this week, that you liked seeing...
a
lot
of me.”

Cassie’s eyes turned smoky. “Oh, I like
seeing a lot of you, all right.”

Her husky retort reminded him of intimacies
they’d shared—slow, sensuous massages, the way her nails felt
digging into his back, waking up with her wrapped around him. He
shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Good. Because you’re gonna see
me, sweetheart.”

She nodded toward his suit. “Decided to go
out like you came in?”

Instead of laughing at her joke, he said
somberly, “I want you to know I’ll never be the same as I was
before I stepped into your classroom, Cassie.”

She asked, “Are you glad?”

“Very.” The kids had taught him as much as
he’d taught them. They’d also come to mean a lot to him.

Too much
.

The woman sitting across from him meant too
much, too. And Mitch had never been happier in his life. Cassie had
brought him complete sexual fulfillment. Even more important, they
grew closer every day—emotionally and, hell, even spiritually. He
frowned, wondering what he’d do if he had to let her go.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

She looked skeptical but glanced at the
clock. “Well, we should get back.”

“Oh,
guidance
gave you a time
frame.”

“Yep. Come on, let’s go.”

As they walked through the corridor, Mitch
marveled at how much at home he was at Bayview Heights High School.
He thought about the fear he’d experienced the first time he
entered this building. As teachers and staff stopped him to say
goodbye and tell him what a good job he’d done, he felt a warmth
and sense of belonging. The only comparable relationships he’d had
were in Nam with his buddies. Four weeks ago he wouldn’t have let
himself make that comparison.

At the door to the classroom, which was
closed for a change, Cassie insisted he go in first. He took a deep
breath and opened the door.

“Surprise!”

As he expected, the kids had planned a party.
He donned his best stern-cop look and said, “Aren’t parties against
school rules?”

“Not if Mr. T. okays them.” The remark came
from Johnny, who stood in the front of the eleven kids lined up
around a table.

“He okayed this?”

“Yes, I did.” Mitch hadn’t seen Seth in the
back of the room.

Mitch faced Cassie. “You knew about
this?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll remember that, Ms. Smith.” His eyes
promised retribution.

He saw Cassie bite her lip and try to keep
from blushing.

Nikki Parelli crossed to Mitch and took his
hand. He remembered when he first came here how touching a student
had bothered him. Today, it was natural to clasp her hand in his.
“Come look at the cake,” the young girl said.

On the table was a sheet cake big enough to
feed an army. In its center was his profile, outlined in black
frosting. In one corner was a picture of the book
Fallen
Angels
. In another, a badge with BVHPD emblazoned on it, and
in the bottom left corner, an outline of the school. To the left of
his profile was a quote that read, “To teach is to touch lives.”
Then the kids had added, “You’ve touched ours.” To the right,
they’d written, “Cop of the Year.”

Moved by the sentiment, Mitch had to struggle
for composure. “This is a work of art. Where did you get it?”

Peterson said, “Amy made it.”

Mitch turned to the shy teenage mother. “It’s
beautiful, Amy. You have a lot of talent.”

Amy reddened, but said in a timid voice, “Ms.
Smith got the home and careers teacher to help me, but I did most
of it myself.”

“Thanks. I appreciate the effort.”

“I made the punch,” Youngblood said.

“Yeah, and he didn’t even try and spike it,”
Arga teased.

Again Mitch assumed the mock-stern look.
“He’d better not.”

The kids decided to have cake and punch right
away. They all crowded around Mitch and chattered at once.

After ten minutes, Seth got him alone and
reached out to shake his hand. “Before I leave for a meeting, I
want to thank you for all you’ve done here, Mitch. I can’t express
how pleased I am that it worked out.”

“You’re welcome.”

“And,” Seth said to Cassie as she joined
them, “I’d like to hear Ms. Smith say it.”

“Say what?” Cassie asked.

“That I was right about this facet of the
Resiliency Program. Come on, let’s hear it.”

Cassie rolled her eyes. Today she wore jeans
and the school T-shirt over a turtleneck sweater; her hair was
pulled off her face with a headband. Her outfit and the gesture
made her look like one of the kids. “All right, all right. I guess
it worked out.”

“Say the words, Cassie,” Seth demanded.
“
Mr. Taylor was right
.”

“Mr. Taylor was right.”

“Ah, that sounds so good.” He turned to
Mitch. “I understand I’ll see you at the Winter Ball tonight.”

Mitch rolled his eyes this time. “Cassie
coerced us all into going. Something about class camaraderie and
bonding.”

“Not all of us will be there,” Cassie told
him after Seth left. “Joe DeFazio can’t attend because he hasn’t
been in school for a week. And Mike isn’t coming, either.”

“Youngblood? Why?”

“I don’t know.”

Mitch scowled. “I’ll talk to him before I
leave.”

“Time for presents,” Arga yelled. “Everybody
find a seat.”

Mitch took a beanbag chair, while most of the
kids dropped to the floor around him. Cassie perched on a desk
behind the group. When he threw her a questioning look, she
shrugged, indicating she didn’t know about the presents.

“This one was
my
idea,” Jones said
as he gave Mitch a long, thin box and watched him unwrap it. Inside
was a tasteful paisley tie. “It’s to go with those cool suits,”
Jones told him.

Mitch held it up to his neck, as if to model
it, and Jen Diaz snapped his picture.

“Mine’s next.” Nikki held out a rectangular
package. Mitch shook it next to his ear, pretending to guess what
it was. Inside, he found a cloth-bound journal. “It’s from all of
us. We thought you might want to keep writing after you left.”

“Yeah, and you won’t have to worry about
sharing it with anyone,” Tara teased.

“Watch it, guys,” Cassie warned, but she was
smiling broadly when she said it.

Mitch smiled, too. “I’d like to keep
writing.”

“Open it,” Nikki told him.

In the front of the book, Mitch found all the
kids’ signatures.

“So you won’t forget us,” Tara said.

Mitch felt his throat close up. “I won’t
forget you.”

“I picked this one out,” Arga said, defusing
the charged moment.

Mitch unwrapped an extra-extra large red
T-shirt like the ones most of the kids wore today. He laughed
heartily, stood and shrugged off his suit jacket. He tugged on the
shirt and Jen took another picture of him and Arga, arm and
arm.

When Mitch sat back down, Som said, “Go on,
Johnny.”

Mitch noticed Johnny Battaglia held the last
gift. He clutched a square, neatly wrapped package a little too
tightly. When Johnny handed it to him, the boy said, “This was my
idea.” Mitch heard Johnny’s silent
I take responsibility for
it
.

Ready to joke, Mitch looked up into Johnny’s
face. Usually filled with cocky self-assurance, his expression was
uneasy.

“Nah, we all agreed,” Brenda told him. “We
wanted to do this, too.”

The hair on the back of Mitch’s neck
prickled. He glanced over at Cassie. She must have caught the kids’
seriousness, because she shook her head, telling him she didn’t
know what gift they’d chosen.

Mitch tore the paper off and found a plush
velvet box—the kind jewelry came in. Slowly, he raised the lid.

His heart skidded to a halt. He closed his
eyes briefly, struggling for control. He knew the kids would be
hanging on to his reaction.

Inside the box was a Purple Heart and a
Silver Star. He swallowed hard as he studied them. He traced the
gold rim of the heart and its purple interior with a fingertip,
then touched the gold of George Washington’s profile mounted in the
center. He brushed a thumb over the faded purple-and-white ribbon
attached to it. His gaze zeroed in on the star. The outer gold part
was a little tarnished, but the inner silver star sparkled off the
lights above. Its red, white and blue ribbon had faded, too.

Mitch looked up at the kids. They seemed to
be holding their collective breath.

His eyes locked on Johnny. “Where...?”

“Your brother had them. That day when you
made him throw them in the garbage, he fished them out after you
left.”

“I never knew.”

“He said he hoped someday you’d heal enough
to want them.”

“How did he know you knew about them?” Mitch
asked Johnny.

“I brought it up.”

“I see.”

“Turn it over,” Johnny said hoarsely.

Mitch did. On the back of the star, it read,
“Sergeant Mitchell Lansing. 1973.” He pondered the inscription for
a moment then cleared his throat. “This wasn’t engraved.”

“I know,” Johnny confessed. “I had it
done.”

Still on the edge of control, Mitch stared at
the reminders of the war...the personal, painful reminders.

Nikki stepped forward next to Johnny. She
knelt down in front of Mitch and touched his hand. “Captain
Lansing?”

Mitch raised his eyes to hers.

“Tam would have wanted you to have these. To
be proud of these.”

Mitch felt his eyes sting but managed to
maintain control. “You think so, Nikki?”

“I know so, Captain.”

“Well, okay then. I’ll keep them.”

“And be proud of them,” Johnny said.

Mitch looked at Johnny again. “And be proud
of them,” Mitch repeated.

o0o

CASSIE SCANNED the party house where the
Bayview Heights High School Winter Ball was held annually and
smiled with satisfaction. It had been one of her goals to get the
At-Risk kids to attend this year, making them feel more a part of
the regular school community. Nine out of twelve had shown up. Of
course, DeFazio hadn’t come; he’d been in and out of school for the
last three weeks and his parents had provided lame excuses about
his absences. Seth had scheduled a support services meeting next
week to discuss DeFazio’s problem.

Amy Anderson was missing, too. She’d called
just before Cassie had left to say her baby was sick and she
couldn’t leave him. She’d sounded sad, and Cassie’s heart ached for
the young mother. But it was Mike Youngblood’s absence that
bothered Cassie the most. When she’d asked him why he wasn’t
coming, he’d shuffled his feet as if he was embarrassed and would
only say he didn’t want to. Deep down, Cassie suspected he didn’t
have the appropriate clothing, but when she’d broached the subject,
he’d been evasive. Most of the kids had scraped together some kind
of jacket and tie or dress, but she thought Youngblood probably
couldn’t find anything at the group home.

“What’s the frown for, Teach?”

Cassie turned to find Johnny—dressed in an
immaculate dark suit and white shirt that set off his coloring—with
a beautiful young girl on his arm.

“Hi,” Cassie said, reaching out to touch his
arm. Then she addressed his date. “I’m Cassie Smith.”

“Hi, I’m—”

Johnny cut her off with a grin and the words
“Mary Margaret Mancini.”

The girl shook her head. “I’m Meg. For some
reason, Johnny prefers my whole embarrassing name.”

“It’s a pretty name,” Cassie said “Nice to
meet you.”

“I love your dress,” Meg said.

“Thanks.” Cassie looked down at her new
purchase. It had been fun splurging on the peacock blue silk party
dress. With cap sleeves, a narrow waist and just-above-the-knee
length, it was modest enough to wear to a school event, yet sexy
enough to make Mitch notice—if he ever got here.

“Where’s the captain?” Johnny asked with a
knowing look. Sometimes that kid seemed to read her mind.

“He said he’d meet us here at nine.”

“Hello.” She heard Mitch’s voice from behind.
Just the sound of it made her knees weak.

Cassie turned to find Mitch, dressed in a
charcoal gray pin-striped suit that accented his linebacker’s
shoulders. With it he wore the tie the kids had given him today.
Cassie was about to comment on the tie when Mike Youngblood stepped
out from behind Mitch.