balance. They do the job but have no personal life and end up having nervous breakdowns, or get jaded, or whatever. But it’s hard for me, and for the people already working who need a master’s degree to move up or get the job they want.”
“Of course.”
“Sorry, I know you probably don’t care about all this stuff, but––”
“You’re wrong. I care about all the things you think about.”
He was quiet for a moment. “That’s a nice thing to say. I don’t talk to many people like I’ve talked to you, so yeah, it’s really nice.”
“I don’t talk to many people either. I have no interest in doing so. But you…you I want to know everything about.”
He made a noise.
“No?”
“I worry.”
“About?”
“I’ve done some bad stuff.”
I suspected what he considered “bad” had been done purely for survival. How a fourteen-year-old boy was abandoned, and no one cared, was beyond me. I knew things happened, especially in small towns with even smaller social services and child welfare budgets, but there was no excuse for turning a blind eye. He had teachers and counselors and principals and the Bowens, and yet no one had stepped in to offer him true shelter from the storm.
Everything about him made sense. Of course he wanted to be a social worker. That way he could become the safety net he’d always wanted for himself. Of course he didn’t trust easily or share parts of himself. It was madness not to protect himself at all costs.
“Cam?” He sounded unsure.
“Listen to me”—I needed to soothe him—“I don’t want you to worry that some confession is going to make me run. I already like you, and I’m not going to change my mind.”
“You can’t say that for sure, and it’s weird anyway.”
“What is?”
“Sometimes it’s not holding stuff back that makes people mad. When I don’t let them do things for me or help, they get mad too.”
“Is that right?”
He made a sound of agreement, his voice getting a bit more slurred.
“I suspect lots of people try to get close to you,” I assured him. Having seen the looks he got when he was moving between tables at the restaurant, I was betting Jeremiah had no end of interested parties.
“It’s hard for me to get close to people. I have some trust issues,” he muttered, and then laughed softly.
That might have been the understatement of the century.
“But I—not with you. I don’t know why, but I—Cam?”
“I’m here.” I was fairly certain he was about ready to pass out. “I’m going to come see you, all right? I’ll be there in a little while, and we’ll figure out your job situation and your living situation as well.”
“That’d be so good, ’cause I think I should move to Sacramento.”
“Oh, I agree. And we’re going to make that happen.”
“Mmm’kay.”
“Tell Merrell to go home when he gets there, because Cam is on his way.”
He whimpered like he was already sleeping, so I hung up. No sooner than I’d disconnected, another call came through with a Sacramento area code.
“Hello?”
“May I speak to Cameron Gallagher, please?”
“This is he.”
“Good morning, sir. My name is Officer Gerald Kramer, and I was asked to get in contact with you by Jeremiah Wolfe. Do you know Jeremiah?”
“I do. I know him well.”
“Which explains why he wanted me to call you. Do you have time right now for me to explain what occurred outside his residence last evening?”
“I do.”
It was helpful to hear the events of the night in chronological and lucid order, and I was not at all surprised to learn the man I was falling for had prevented a rape. He’d saved a young woman, been beaten in the process, and was then rescued by the girl’s father, who had put all four attackers in the hospital.
“Mr. Hornsberry is a big man, and he came downstairs with his son’s baseball bat in one hand and a cast-iron frying pan in the other.”
A father with righteous anger roaring through his veins, I could only imagine.
“He called the ambulance for Jeremiah right away, and then Merrell Barrett showed up, so things sped up from there.”
Of course they did. The man was the mayor-elect after all.
“I don’t mean to pry, Mr. Gallagher, but will you be around to take Jeremiah home from the hospital tomorrow? I’d hate for him to have to get a cab, and then be all alone in that rat trap of an apartment.”
“You know him beyond being the police officer on-site last night, then.”