Missing Dixie(63)

“They’re understaffed. You know this, Gavin.”

I sigh and watch Liam toss and turn for a minute. “I know. Still. This shouldn’t have slipped by so many for so long.”

“You did,” she says quietly. “When they did come to question you, you lied and made excuses. Protected her.”

She’s right. I did.

I still do.

“I know. I’m guessing he’s been doing the same. Still . . .”

Sheila watches me carefully. “It looks different on this side, doesn’t it?”

I don’t answer because I don’t know how to. It does seem different. Growing up, I blamed myself for the way my mom was. If she didn’t have to deal with me maybe she wouldn’t have gotten so bad off. But looking at Liam, I can’t think of a single way what happened could have possibly been his fault.

As I got older, when I started using myself, I blamed myself for having drugs around and exposing my mom to temptation. She would always find my stash, no matter what it was. When she would get clean, I laughed at her when she told me she was pulling it together. I’d heard it so many times and it had been a lie so many times, I started being an * about it. That might not have caused her to fall back down but it certainly didn’t help.

I run my hands through my hair and pull in some much-needed oxygen. “I assaulted his dad, Sheila. I saw him hit him and I lost it. He’s still in the hospital.”

The creases in her aging face deepen. “Well, that’s not great, Gavin. What did you think that would help?”

“I didn’t think,” I answer honestly. “I just reacted.”

“Time for another round of anger management?”

I nod. “Yeah. Pretty sure I’m going to get the mandatory kind, courtesy of the state of Texas.”

“Could be worse,” she says.

“Agreed. Can I get you some coffee?”

Sheila sets her purse down and I notice a bag with an expensive-looking camera in it. “That’d be great. Then we need to wake him up so I can talk with him and take a few photos of the marks you mentioned and document his weight.”

I glance at Liam, wishing I could let him sleep more before putting the poor kid through this. “Okay. Be right back.”

After I’ve made a pot of coffee and poured Sheila a cup, I knock on Dixie’s door but don’t hear a response. I push it open and she’s standing there in her jeans and a bra. I turn my head quickly. “Sorry. I know it’s early but, um, Sheila is here so . . .”

“I saw the car in the driveway,” she answers while pulling a black tank top over her head. “Be right there.”

I make my way back to the living room and lean down to where Liam is already beginning to stir. “Hey, buddy. Want some breakfast?”

He sits up, his small body wavering a little and his voice scratchy when he speaks. “Do we have dinner for breakfast here?”

I laugh at the genuine interest in his question. “Nah. I was thinking some fruit and yogurt and toast if that’s okay. Miss Dixie eats kind of healthy in the mornings. I guess so she can wolf down bacon and waffles at dinnertime.” I wink at her when she comes into the room at the end of my comment.

She smirks at me. “I have cereal, too, thank you very much, and oatmeal.”

Liam perks up. “I like oatmeal. The kind with apples.”

“On it,” Dixie says, looking hugely relieved that he has a food he likes and nodding briefly at Sheila, who raises her coffee mug in greeting. “Anyone else want oatmeal?”

“I won’t turn it down,” I say.

“I’m good. Thank you, though,” Sheila answers.

“Be right back,” Dixie tells us before disappearing into the kitchen.

I help Liam out of the tent and turn to a channel I think might have cartoons. Sesame Street is on, which seems nuts since I watched it as a kid.

“This okay?”

He nods.

I introduce him to Sheila and his immediate wariness tells me he’s met social workers before. But Sheila is a pro so she puts him at ease pretty quickly, discussing the differences between Bert and Ernie.

They chat amicably for a few minutes before Dixie returns. She hands Liam his oatmeal and a cup of orange juice, setting him up on her grandpa’s chair with a TV tray.

I notice she put some fruit on both of our plates and smile as I thank her.

Sheila gets down to business pretty quickly, taking statements from Dixie and me both and getting Mrs. Lawson’s info as well. When Liam finishes eating, his pace a little slower with the distraction of Big Bird, Sheila asks him if it would be okay if they spoke for a few minutes on the front porch after he changes out of his jammies. She’s already coordinated with Dixie how they’ll get the photos of the marks without upsetting him. Basically Dixie is going to help him change his clothes and Sheila is going to be as discreet as humanly possible.

The three of them go into the bedroom and come back out a few minutes later. Dixie’s face is pale. Too pale. But Liam seems okay.

Sheila tucks her camera into her bag and nods at me as she takes Liam onto the porch to discuss birds.

Dixie takes the empty oatmeal dishes into the kitchen and I follow her. “I know this is hard on you. But trust me, he will be better for it. I imagine my life would’ve been a little different if someone had stepped in when I was his age.”