Well, I knew that the reprieve could not last, but I hoped to give Miranda a few more days of peace. And I certainly did not expect the enemy to cross this line.
This afternoon, Miranda picked up Evan from school and took him to get hot chocolate, just because. I was just passing by, really, checking in with them, when an aura I recognized kept me right where I was. Of all Mr. Hill’s employees, the one I have found most difficult to shift is a man named Robert Quick, who is clever, capable, and utterly loyal to Mr. Hill. Mr. Hill is a friend of Robert’s family, and so Robert excuses the terrible things he does for his boss as being repayment of many debts owed. His morality is so swayed that he feels no pangs of guilt, even. He is not superstitious at all, so fear that has no source that he recognizes does nothing. And he is too clever to be distracted.
So when Robert walked right up to Miranda and Evan’s table and sat down, I could do nothing to stop him.
“Mrs. Spiller. How nice to see you again.”
Miranda was stunned into silence, paralyzed with fear. Evan looked from Miranda to Robert and back again, puzzled.
I put my wings around them, trying to shield them from Robert’s pleasant smile and sharp thoughts. “Go away,” I hissed.
Robert had no reaction to my words. “I’m sorry it’s taken us a while to get back to you,” he went on when Miranda said nothing. “It’s been a rough week for us. But I really would like to sit down with you sometime and discuss terms. We’re highly motivated to come to an agreement with you.” He smiled at Evan.
Miranda reached out and put her hand on Evan’s shoulder. His eyes widened when he felt the tightness of her grip, and wariness rose up in his spirit. “What kind of agreement?” he asked.
“Don’t you worry about it, Evan,” Miranda said. She had to clear her throat before she looked back at Robert. “I understand your concern, Mr. Quick, but maybe we could discuss this in a more appropriate place and time.”
“As it happens, Mrs. Spiller, my evening is free.”
Miranda’s heart shivered, but I leaned forward and whispered, “This is a public place. He is not going to do anything here. You need to get Evan out of here.”
Mention of her son hardened her heart, and Miranda got to her feet. “Another time,” she said firmly. “I have your number, Mr. Quick. You’ll have to be satisfied with that for now. Come on, Evan.”
Robert also got to his feet, still smiling. “For now,” he agreed, and he stood and watched as the two of them left the café.
“Who was that?” Evan asked as soon as they got into the car.
“No one,” Miranda said, but her pale face belied the words.
“What did he want?”
“Don’t you worry about it.”
“But you’re worried about it,” Evan pointed out. “Are you scared of him?”
Because she knew she wouldn’t be able to fool Evan with a lie, Miranda didn’t answer. Evan watched her for a long moment. “You can tell me,” he said, trying to make his voice deeper. “Maybe I can help.”
Up until that moment, I had agreed entirely with Miranda’s position that Evan should know nothing of all this. He’s only a boy, and he deserves not to have the fear and worry hanging over his head that Miranda has been feeling. But at the sight of the determination in his eyes, I changed my mind. This particular boy, despite his age, is not unfamiliar with fear and uncertainty. And now that he has a place that he wants to keep, he deserves to know that Miranda wants more than anything to keep him, too.
“Tell him,” I murmured to Miranda. “He knows that something is wrong now, and he won’t forget.” And when she hesitated, I added, “If you want him as your family, then you should let him help with family problems. He is strong enough.”
She sighed. “Well, you know how Dean was with money, right? Always had some kind of notion.” She was having trouble getting a good breath, and I leaned closer to try and give her some comfort. “It turns out he owed a lot more money than I realized. Ever since he died, these…people have been coming by, trying to press me to repay the debt.” She rubbed her face. “Which I can’t. I don’t have the money, especially after Dean’s funeral and everything else.”
Evan frowned. “Is that why we sold the house?”
“It’s why we’re trying to sell the house. I don’t think the house will actually get us enough.”
Evan’s no fool, and not bad at math—his eyes stretched as he figured from that how much the debt was. He swallowed. “How long do you have to repay it? Can you make payments?”
“I hope so, because there’s no possible way—” She broke off, blinking rapidly. “But I don’t want you to worry, honey. I’m going to figure something out, I promise.”
Evan was silent all the rest of the way home. Once Miranda pulled into the parking lot, though, he jumped out of the car and came right around to her. “What about the money you get for taking care of me? Can we use some of that?”
“No, I’m not touching your money.” Miranda was firm in that respect. “I told Dean the minute he brought you home that it rightfully belongs to you and we weren’t going to use it for anything but what it was meant for, and I’m sticking to that.”
“But you don’t need it all, right?” Evan asked. “You don’t spend it all on me every month. Where does the rest go?”
“Into your college fund, and it’s staying there, Evan. No arguments.”
Evan was sidetracked. “I have a college fund?”
Miranda smiled a little as she unlocked the door. “I started it for you at the end of the first month you were with us. It’s not a lot, but by the time you turn eighteen we might have enough to cover your first year’s tuition.”
Now it was Evan’s turn to fight tears. He went to his door, dropped his bookbag into his room, and asked without turning around, “So I’ll still be here when I’m eighteen?”
Miranda looked up, her breath catching in her chest. Then, with a slight nudge from me, she went to stand right behind Evan. “Evan, if I have it my way,” she said softly, “you’ll be with me forever.”
He didn’t move, his thin shoulders rigid. Miranda hesitated, then moved past him to go into her bedroom, where she retrieved the folder that held the documents that she had been holding onto for months. She also grabbed a handful of tissues.
“I got this just before Dean had his first heart attack,” she said, coming back and holding out the folder to him. “With all the upheaval, I haven’t wanted to—but you deserve to know.” She bent her head, trying to see his face a little more clearly. “I want to adopt you, Evan. I want you to be my family for real.”
He looked at the folder, his head turning on his neck like an unoiled hinge. And then he knocked it out of her hands when he lunged forward into her arms.
For a long time, they said nothing at all, and their thoughts were quiet too, drowned out by the relief and love that was rolling through both of them. But then Evan’s shoulders stiffened, and he pushed back, looking up into Miranda’s face. “I don’t want you to adopt me,” he said.
She stared at him, astonished. “Evan—”
“Not yet, anyway,” he said, swiping his hand across his eyes. “If you adopt me, the government will stop giving you money, right?”
Miranda’s face softened again. “Oh, sweetheart—”
“It just makes sense,” he insisted. “And I don’t need to go to college. I don’t,” he said fiercely when she opened her mouth to protest. “Everybody thinks that college is necessary, but it’s not. I have a cousin who just finished college and she’s got thousands of dollars in debt and no job to show for it. It’s stupid and I don’t want to do that.”
“You might feel differently in a few years,” Miranda tried to argue, “and I want you to have the choice.”
But Evan shook his head. “If I’m going to be a part of this family,” he said, and his chest warmed until I thought his heart might catch fire, “then I want to help.” He blinked, remembering something. “You get money to buy me clothes, too, right? I don’t need any new clothes this year. We can use that, too. When does that come in?”
Miranda looked skeptically at his skinny frame, already taller than he was when he came to them eight months ago. But then she sighed and put her arms around him again. “We’ll use some of the clothing fund,” she said, “and I’ll put the extra from your maintenance toward the debt. But I’m not touching what I’ve already collected. I can’t, anyway,” she defended herself as he tugged to be free to protest. “It’s in your name, and no, you can’t get it until you’re eighteen.”
He looked up at her with narrowed eyes, and I thought they would be talking about this more in the future. But then he simply put his arms around her waist and rested his head on her chest. “Evan Spiller,” he whispered, testing it.
Miranda laughed a little. “Would it disappoint you if I went back to my maiden name? I never did like Dean’s name much.”
“What is it?”
“Sanderson.”
“Evan Sanderson.” He smiled. “That’s even better.”
And they smiled together, and they held on to each other, and for the first time in too long, they both felt that things would eventually be all right.
I hope they are right. In fact, I mean to help make certain of it.