Spare Change (Wyattsville #1)(64)

Mahoney still trying to win her over to their way of thinking, said, “All we want to do is ask a few questions, we’ve no intention of pressuring him.”

“I’m sorry,” Olivia said, looking only at Mahoney, “but, he doesn’t want—”

Hell bent on being the lead interrogator, Cobb snarled, “Look, lady, you got nothing to say about it—the kid’s a runaway, we’ll get a warrant!”

“Just you try it!” Olivia slammed the door with such force that a screw holding the hinge in place, popped loose and rolled across the carpet. Despite the boldness of her words, her heart was pounding like a Salvation Army kettle drum.

After several minutes of waiting for her nerves to settle down, Olivia sucked in a deep breath, threw her shoulders back and marched into the bedroom calling out for Ethan Allen. At first there was no answer, not even the sound of his breathing—it was so quiet that she could have believed he had run off again; but when she stooped and peered beneath the bed she saw two wide open eyes looking back. “Come out from under there,” she said, “we need to do some talking.”

“Are they gone,” he asked.

“Yes,” she answered, “but, I believe they’ll be back.”

“I gotta get going,” Ethan Allen said, cautiously wriggling out from under the bed. “If I’m here when they get back…”

Olivia found it surprising the boy would admit to being afraid of anything. He had a papery covering of bravado and a sassy mouth, but if you peeled away those things you’d find a scared little boy trying to act tough. Olivia knew all about such pretensions, she’d stuck her nose in the air and marched out of her daddy’s house as if she weren’t afraid of the devil himself but she’d been trembling inside. Once the boy scooted partway from beneath the bed, she reached down and took hold of his hand, “Don’t worry, Ethan,” she said as she tugged him to his feet, “there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“That’s what you think!” he answered.

“Police officers don’t harm children,” Olivia said in a voice meant to reassure the boy and do away with his unfounded fears. “They’re probably just following up, checking to see you’re okay and getting the proper care, that’s all.”

“That ain’t all!” he shouted. “That policeman wants to slit my throat!”

“Why on earth would he want to do such a thing?”

“’Cause then, I can’t tell.”

“Tell what?”

“Nothing. Just trust me; I gotta get out of here before they get back.”

Olivia took hold of the boy’s shoulders and twisted him around so that he was facing her. “No, Ethan,” she said, “…it’s time you trusted me. You have got to tell me the truth about why you’re so afraid of those policemen.”

“You’re better off not knowing,” he warned. “Believe me, Miss Olivia, you’re much better off not knowing.”

“Miss Olivia?” she echoed solemnly. The name took her aback. It somehow seemed so formal, proper in every aspect and meant to please, but with no affection attached—surely he’d made a mistake saying her name in such a way. Although she didn’t remember him ever before referring to her in that manner, neither did she recall him using any other name. Now that she thought back, she could picture the way he would wait until she was facing him to speak, he’d never once used a name. “Ethan,” she sighed, “don’t you think you should be calling me Grandma?”

“But…you said...”

“I was wrong.” She pulled him to her chest and hugged so hard he began wheezing. When she finally loosened her grip, she lowered herself to the floor alongside of Ethan Allen and said, “Your Grandpa was a wonderful man, a man who knew far more of life than I ever did. His heart was the size usually afforded to three men. And, it was filled to the brim with love, way more than is needed for sharing.” She brushed back a tear and took the boy’s hand in hers, “I’m absolutely certain,” she said, her voice soft as a fluff of cotton, “that he was the one who brought you here, Ethan. Having you is almost like having your dear sweet Grandpa back again. You’ve got Charlie’s smile, the same blue eyes…” she looked down at the boy and knew her ability to love was not dead, it simply needed a reason to live. “So, you see,” Olivia said, her smile growing wider, “I believe your Grandpa’s intention was for us to be together—to take care of each other the way he’d take care of us if he was here. Who are we to argue with an intention such as that?”

Figuring this wasn’t the time for explaining the only thing he knew of Grandpa Doyle was the dollar bill that arrived at Christmas and on his birthday, Ethan simply nodded, and said, “Okay.”

“Okay, Grandma,” Olivia corrected, “I am your grandma and I’d be real honored if you’d call me that.”

“Okay,” he hesitated for what seemed to be a long moment, then finally spat out the word that somehow had gotten stuck sideways in his throat, “Grandma.”

Olivia gave him an affectionate hug; then she whipped right back into asking why he had such a fear of the two police officers. “You’ve got to tell me the honest-to-God truth,” she said, “whatever the problem is, we can deal with it together.”