Second Chance Family - Cindy Kirk Page 0,58

surprise. After all, Ed had Charlie’s file. “I tried to find out more, but he kept telling me not to worry, that we’d talk about Charlie when he came out.”

Without warning, Cole reached over and covered her hand with his. “But you are worried.”

Meg nodded, feeling the sting of tears against the back of her lids. She blinked them away, feeling foolish.

“I’m worried, too.”

She looked up and for the first time saw the concern in his eyes.

“Whatever is going on with Charlie, we can handle it,” he said. “He’ll be okay.”

“Because he has us.”

“That’s right.” Cole got up to tend to the whistling teakettle. “We’re in his back pocket.”

Chapter Fifteen

Ed Rice took a sip of coffee. Though his demeanor was calm, Cole sensed he was nowhere near as composed as he appeared. For one thing, his Adam’s apple kept bobbing up and down, and there appeared to be a sheen of perspiration on the top of his balding head. He seemed to be deliberately avoiding Cole’s gaze.

Perhaps Meg’s suggestion that they meet in the kitchen had thrown the educator off his stride. He was dressed for business in a navy suit and red tie, and they’d placed him in a kitchen? Not to mention when they’d taken seats at the table, Meg had scooted her chair closer to Cole, as if wanting to make it clear where her allegiance lay.

At that moment, the tightness gripping Cole’s chest had begun to ease.

“I was sorry to hear about Janae.” Ed kept his pale blue eyes focused on Meg. “I remember how close you two were in high school. Rarely saw one of you without the other.”

“Janae was special.” Meg sighed. “I don’t know that there was anyone I trusted more.”

“Both Janae and Ty were special,” Cole said.

For the first time, Ed shifted his gaze to Cole. “I forgot. You knew them, too.”

“Janae was my neighbor growing up,” Cole explained. “Ty became a good friend later.”

“Of course,” Ed said. “That’s how you ended up with partial custody.”

“Meg and I have joint custody,” Cole clarified. “We both love Charlie and are concerned about the reason for your visit today.”

“While it’s wonderful to see you again, Ed,” Meg said, “I, we, really would like to know why you’re here.”

Ed cast a surreptitious look in Cole’s direction, and suddenly Cole knew why Ed had come. The temperature in the room dropped thirty degrees in a heartbeat.

Please, God, no.

“Last year Charlie’s teacher noted that he wasn’t reaching the milestones that are set for children of that age.” Ed spoke slowly, obviously choosing his words carefully. “He spoke with Ty and Janae, offering the opportunity for Charlie to participate in a program that would give him extra reading assistance.”

“How’s that been going?” Meg asked.

Time seemed to stretch and extend. Ed shifted uncomfortably in his wooden chair. “They declined to participate.”

“What?” Cole straightened in his seat. “Why?”

“Parents opt out of the additional assistance for a variety of reasons,” Ed said diplomatically. “They have to agree to work with the child every night for thirty minutes. Some won’t—can’t—commit to that amount of time.”

Cole frowned. “That doesn’t sound like Janae or Ty.”

“I assume you’re here because Charlie is still struggling.” Meg’s face held lines of strain, her tone as tightly strung as a piano wire.

“Charlie is still experiencing issues with his sounds and with letter identification,” Ed said. “He’s fallen even further behind where we would expect him to be reading. His classroom teacher reports he’s been acting out during reading time.”

Meg glanced at Cole then back at Ed. “Because of his parents’ deaths?”

Ed shook his head. “It’s been going on since the beginning of the year.”

“He’s doing it to divert attention from his difficulty reading,” Cole murmured.

After the tiniest hesitation, Ed nodded. “That would be my guess.”

Cole took a deep breath and asked the question burning a hole in his brain. “Do you think Charlie could be dyslexic?”

“Dyslexia is a possibility.” Ed cleared his throat. “His school’s reading specialist happened to be in the classroom one day observing the children and noticed Charlie was writing his letters backward.”

“Doesn’t dyslexia run in families?” Meg looked perplexed. “I know Janae wasn’t dyslexic. I don’t think Ty was, either.”

“It’s frequently found in families.” Ed tapped his Montblanc pen against the tabletop. “Where dyslexia is identified, up to half of these children have a history of learning difficulties in their family and more than half have a family member who is left-handed.”

The color faded from Meg’s cheeks. “Charlie is left-handed.”

“So is Cole,” Ed observed,