Page 42 of Jackson
Paula exhaled sharply and rose to pace the room. Her chest felt too tight, and her thoughts tripped over themselves in search of an answer that didn’t exist.
Why?
Why hadn’t he walked away?
Why did he still look at her like she was worth it?
The idea both terrified and thrilled her.
Her stomach tightened. This was dangerous ground. She knew how to handle indifference. She could handle rejection, disappointment. But this? Someone seeing her mess, her lack of structure, her failures—and still staying?
It made her feel hopeful, and that was worse than anything.
Hope was a trap.
She forced a breath past the lump in her throat, reaching for the detached, rational part of her mind.He’s just being nice. You’re reading too much into it.
Except she’d seen the way he’d looked at her. Like he knew. Like he understood.
Before she could spiral any further, her phone rang.
She flinched at the sound but was grateful for the interruption.
“Stone,” she answered, astonished her voice was as controlled and professional as always.
Like she hadn’t just been unraveling under the weight of something she didn’t know how to name.
Four hours later she was waiting while trying not to fidget.
She’d testified in court, had been dismissed, and Josh was still behind the heavy oak doors.
Having to wait was killing her.
James and Laura weren’t saying much, so Paula tried to make polite small talk with the others when the door opened, and Josh came running out and almost jumped on them as they struggled to stand.
“It’s all going to be okay! They’re not sending me to jail!”
His eyes were red, and his tie was askew, but this was not the time or place to ask about it.
Henry and Brian Landis followed Josh at a more moderate, dignified pace.
“What’s the verdict?” she asked.
“Guilty of drug possession and leaving the scene of an accident,” Henry answered. “Josh will be on probation until he graduates from high school. At that time, he can petition the court to seal his record. He has to do two thousand hours of community service between now and then, mostly in the summer. He stays in your custody, and he has to continue therapy until Marc releases him. Congratulations! It’s what we had hoped for.”
Tears streamed down Laura’s face, and her voice cracked. “That’s wonderful! I wonder where he can do his service? Are there rules about that, Henry?”
“There are some general guidelines, but basically you find a non-profit that can use help and get approval for him to work there. His probation officer will have to sign off on it or may have an idea of their own.”
“Do you think the church would let him work there?” James asked Laura.
“Probably. The food pantry always needs volunteers. We can ask Pastor Jonathan on Sunday.” Laura wiped her face and swept her gaze over the small congregation. “In the meantime, let’s all go out for dinner. Our treat. Can you all come? How about Artègo Pizza? I’ll call ahead so we have a table.”
“Thanks for the invitation. I haven’t eaten there in years, but I remember how good their food is,” Dr. Kiley said.
“What about you, Paula, Marc, Henry?” James asked.
“I’m sorry, but I have paperwork I still have to finish and then an appointment after work,” Paula said.
