Sam decided not to take that question personally. She’d read all the research on how much a good mindfulness practice and yoga could help traumatized kids, but she was well-aware it might sound like a bunch of woo-woo nonsense to people who didn’t spend a lot of their spare time looking for ways to further help women and kids coming out of bad situations.
She was also aware how Marco felt about drug dealers of any kind. He’d been nothing but kind to the women he’d referred to Ruth’s House, but if any of them had a boyfriend or husband into the bad stuff, he’d come down hard as an anvil, especially if they came by the shelter making threats.
“I get why this would look crazy to you,” she told him. “But Pavel needs a stable home and counseling and, yeah, a good mindfulness practice wouldn’t hurt the situation at all. And I can give him all of that.”
“Do you know how many kids need that and don’t get it every year?” He frowned, worry creasing his boyishly handsome face. “Look I know you have a thing for rescue situations. The fact that you have the world’s dumbest pit bull tells me that.”
“Hey! Back Up is a Staffordshire Bull Terrier,” she corrected. “And she isn’t dumb.”
“She jumped up on me and literally tried to eat my gun the last time I was here,” Marco reminded her. “She’s either dumb or suicidal.”
He rushed on before Sam could argue with him further. “The point is this kid is not Back Up, or even a victim of domestic abuse. He’s eight years old, and he was in a cabinet the whole time his dad was getting snuffed.” Marco shook his head. “Look, I don’t want to be mean here, but I’ve got to at least try to talk you out of this. Witsec’s already taken a pass. You should, too.”
Sam shook her own head, knowing exactly where Marco was going with this. The same place the other police officers at his station had when she’d decided to use her social worker’s license in order to assume custody of Pavel until further notice.
“There’s nothing to be talked out of,” she told Marco, just like she’d told those officers. She considered Marco a friend with potential to become more than that, but right about now, she was finding it hard not to get frustrated with him.
“Pavel’s scared out of his mind and for good reason. He won’t leave Back Up’s side. He would have slept in her dog bed if I hadn’t let them both bunk down with me.”
“Even more reason why we should get Child Protective Services involved. Let them handle it.”
Sam shook her head. “I don’t want him handled. I want him taken care of.”
“Yeah, but…” Marco reached out to take her hand. “Why’s it got to be you?”
Sam froze. The answer to that was so complicated. Marco was a nice guy and she’d welcomed his interest in her. Working as many hours as she did, it wasn’t like she met a ton of guys just dying to start a relationship with someone whose biggest dream was to open “a different kind of domestic abuse shelter” in all fifty states.
Nevertheless, there were parts of her past he wasn’t privy to, parts that made it impossible for her to abandon Pavel when he needed not just anyone, but someone who absolutely understood what he was going through.
“So what are you suggesting?” Sam asked, taking her hand back from him. “That I further traumatize him by passing him off to strangers?”
Marco opened his mouth to answer just as a knock sounded on the other side of the door.
“Hold on a minute,” Marco called out.
“Come on out, Pavel,” she said at the same time.
The door opened and Pavel stuck his head outside. She could hear Back Up panting behind him and smiled because the dog had stuck to Pavel’s side for the last few days, as if sensing the little boy needed her.
“Hi, Pavel,” Sam said with a bright smile.
“Hey, little man. What’s up? Settling in okay?” Marco asked with a dimpled smile of his own. Usually Sam liked how well the officer got along with children and the rest of the women at her shelter, effortlessly putting everyone he met at ease with his outgoing and affable nature. But in this case, it struck Sam as a little fake, considering he’d just been trying to convince her to pass him off to Indiana’s Department of Child Services.
Pavel, who might have heard more than she would have wished, didn’t even spare him a look.
“Tonight is Mount Nik’s last game. May I watch it?” he asked politely, without any acknowledgment of Marco whatsoever.
“Sure, feel free to change it,” Sam answered. “I’ve got some paperwork I can finish up while you do that, then it’s time for bed.”
“I’m a big Indiana Polar fan myself,” Marco told the kid. “And I’m off duty now.” He smiled at Sam. “You got any beer? Maybe I could come in and watch.”
“Ah…” Sam said.
“Mama, I’d like to watch it alone if you don’t mind,” Pavel said in the doorway.
Pavel, Sam had discovered over the last forty-eight hours, was actually a very polite little boy. At least to her. Everybody else was a different story, and he seemed even less enthusiastic to watch the game with Marco than she was to invite him in after his Child Services pitch.
“That’s okay,” Marco said, throwing Sam a puzzled look. “I’ve got some buddies I can watch it with at the bar. Go Polar!”
Pavel just disappeared back inside, shutting the door behind him.
Apparently he did not feel any solidarity with Marco whatsoever just because he was also a Polar fan.
“Wow,” Marco said, running a hand over his spiky black hair.
“He’s adjusting,” Sam said. “And he probably didn’t get much social training growing up the way he did.”
“Yeah, but… Did I hear him call you Mama? You said you just met this kid, what? Forty-eight hours ago?”
Sam cringed. She’d been hoping he wouldn’t ask her about that. Pavel had been calling her “mama” ever since they’d arrived at her apartment two nights ago, almost as if they’d formally agreed to the title change on the car ride over from the police station.
“He’s not your kid,” Marco told her now.
“I know that,” she answered, even as her heart kicked up a mutinous rebellion, pumping harder, as if to say, That’s a lie! Pavel is my son and I’m his mother. Obviously it was meant to be!