Patrick's Destiny

“Heard what happened on the dock,” Caleb explained. “Board’s been loose since Red Foley bought that dock thirty years ago. Told him a hundred times, the dang thing was a danger. Would’ve told you the same thing, if you’d come in here before now, but you’ve been making yourself scarce since you moved over here from your folks’ place.”

Patrick’s grin faltered at the mention of his parents, but that was a discussion he didn’t intend to have—not with Caleb Jenkins, not with anyone. He’d written his folks off, and the reasons were his business and his alone. The fact that they were less than thirty miles away meant he was bound to run into people who knew them from time to time. It didn’t mean he had to discuss his personal business.

Instead he focused on the rest of Caleb’s comment. “Doubt I’d have listened any better than Red,” he told the old man.

“Probably not.” Caleb shook his head. “You get old and finally know a thing or two and nobody wants to listen. Heard the boy’s okay, though.”

“Just wet and scared,” Patrick confirmed. “I imagine Matt will have quite a bit to say to him.”

“Doubtful. Matt never had a lick of sense. Always in a hurry, Matt was. Boy’s the same way,” he said, confirming Patrick’s previous thought that like father, like son.

“You have a point,” Patrick agreed.

“Matt lived to tell a tale or two about his narrow escapes. I imagine his son will, too.”

“Hope so,” Patrick said. He peeled off the money to pay for the nails and lumber, anxious to get home, finish the needed work and put this day behind him.

Caleb gave him a sly look as he handed back the receipt. “Hear Alice Newberry took what happened real hard.”

“She was upset, but she’ll get over it. After all, there was no real harm done.”

“Doubt Loretta will see it that way,” Caleb said, shaking his head. “How that woman ended up principal of a school is beyond me. She never did understand kids. You gotta let ’em explore and discover things for themselves. They’re bound to make a few mistakes along the way, but that’s just part of living, don’t you think?”

Patrick hadn’t given the topic much thought, since he had no kids of his own and didn’t intend to. “Makes sense to me,” he said, mostly to end the conversation. He had a hunch Caleb was leading up to something Patrick didn’t want to hear.

Unfortunately, Caleb wasn’t the least bit daunted. “Maybe you ought to go by the school and have a word with Loretta.”

Patrick gave him a hard look. “Me? Why should I get involved?”

“You are involved,” Caleb pointed out. “The boy fell off your dock. Besides, a man ought to be willing to help out a woman when she needs looking after. That’s the way of the world.”

The old-fashioned world, maybe, Patrick thought. He wasn’t sure he had any reason to get involved in Alice Newberry’s salvation. As well, he had a hunch she could stand up for herself just fine. Aside from that brief display of tears, which he attributed to shock, she hadn’t hesitated to speak her mind to him. She seemed to have some sort of fixation on personal accountability, too. He doubted she would appreciate him running to her rescue.

“I’ll think about it,” he told Caleb.

“Not much of a gentleman if you don’t,” the old man said, his tone chiding.

“If I hear Ms. Newberry needs any help, I’ll talk to Loretta,” he promised.

“That’ll do, I suppose,” Caleb said, looking disappointed.

“I imagine you’d go rushing over to the school right now,” Patrick said, feeling the weight of the subtle pressure.

Caleb’s expression brightened at once. “There you go. Best to nip this sort of thing in the bud. Be sure to give Loretta my regards.”

“I never said I was going to the school,” Patrick pointed out.

“Of course you are. It’s ten minutes away. Won’t take you but a couple of minutes to put things right with Loretta, and you can be back on that dock of yours in no time. You’ll have done a good deed.”

“I thought diving in the freezing ocean was my good deed,” Patrick grumbled.

“One of ’em,” Caleb agreed. “A smart man knows he needs a lot of ’em on the ledger before the day comes when he faces Saint Peter.”

Patrick sighed heavily. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He noticed that Caleb was looking mighty pleased with himself as he watched Patrick gather up his purchases. Just what he needed in his life…a nosy old man who thought he had a right to be Patrick’s conscience.

Nevertheless, he drove to the school, then stalked through the halls that still smelled exactly as they had twenty years ago—of chalk, a strong pine-scented cleanser, peanut butter sandwiches and smelly sneakers. He followed the all-too-familiar path directly to the principal’s office and hammered on the door, determined for once not to let Loretta Dowd intimidate him. He was all grown-up and beyond her authority now.

“Come in,” a tart voice snapped.

Patrick entered and faced Loretta Dowd with her flashing black eyes and steel-gray bun. He promptly felt as if he were six years old again, and in trouble for the tenth time in one day.

“You!” she said. “I might have known. There’s no need to break my door down, Patrick Devaney. My hearing’s still perfectly fine.”

He winced at her censure. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I imagine you’re here to tell me that it wasn’t Alice’s fault that Ricky Foster fell off your dock.”

Patrick nodded.

“Did you take him from his classroom to the waterfront?”

Patrick barely resisted the desire to squirm as he had as a boy under that unflinching gaze. “No.”

“Did you lose control of him?”

“No.”

“Then I don’t see how this is your fault,” she said. “You may go now.”

Patrick started to leave, then realized what she hadn’t said. He turned back and peered at her. “You’re not firing Ms. Newberry, are you?”

She frowned at the question. “Don’t be ridiculous. She’s a fine teacher. She just happened to make a bad decision today. Spring makes a lot of people do crazy things. We’ve addressed it. It won’t happen again.”

Thank the Lord for that, Patrick thought. “Okay, then,” he said.

He turned to leave, but Mrs. Dowd spoke his name sharply.

“Yes, ma’am?” He noticed with some surprise that there was a twinkle in her eyes.

“It was very gallant of you to roar in here in an attempt to protect Ms. Newberry. You’ve turned into a fine young man.”

Warmth flooded through him at the undeserved compliment. “I imagine there are quite a few who’d argue that point,” he said, “but thanks for saying it, just the same.”

“If you’re referring to your parents, I think you know better.”

Patrick stiffened. “I don’t discuss my parents.”