Crimson Footprints II: New Beginnings (13 page)

“Yeah,” Jennifer snapped. “Except when you branch out too thin we end up having to lay off a few thousand employees at your behest.”

Deena stared at her. “If I didn’t know any better, Ms. Swallows, I’d think you were blaming me for the state of the economy, too.”

Daichi grinned deliciously, a rare smile, restrictive but still reminiscent of Tak’s. Deena couldn’t help but smile in return.

“Daichi,” she said softly, turning to face her father, “we can’t ignore the reputation or the caliber of students that typically graduate from architectural colleges in Australia, particularly, the University of Auckland. Their faculty is among the best in the world. To remain competitive, we’ll need to tap into that.”

Daichi nodded in slow agreement.

“And there’s something to be said for a diversity of experiences,” Deena continued, audience disappearing to one as she warmed to the argument. “But I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know. Diversity is at the helm of your belief system. The arguments you make as you go from lecture to lecture. What do they say? That we’re to embrace, nurture, and reflect the prevailing norms, belief systems, and richness of diversity in varying societies. Therefore, it only stands to reason that we can benefit from adding high-quality Australian architects to an already diverse family.”

“Yes, but—”

Daichi halted Jennifer with a hand.

“Agreed,” he said. He turned to Jennifer.

“Ms. Swallows, do us the pleasure of researching the feasibility of expansion into Australia. I hope you were paying attention to the points Mrs. Tanaka illustrated. I’d like them highlighted in precise format. In addition, prepare a list of architectural firms with the largest presence in Australia, as well as their substantial in-state projects within the last ten years.”

A cell phone rang. Deena flinched.

Daichi’s gaze swept the group, scathing, searching, stalking. Deena shrank in her chair, thankful for the OCD tendency she had to check her cell three or four times before each meeting started. Partnership in no way meant immunity. In fact, two former partners, Sam Michaels and Donald Mason, had been forced out after complaints from Tak following a few incidents between them and Deena. Actually, Tak had told his father that he could either fire them or watch him kick their asses. They’d received notices the same day, and with only a cursory severance pay.

Daichi came to a standstill just before Deena. She looked around in confusion before realizing all eyes were now on a statuesque, horrified Jennifer Swallows. 

“Answer,” Daichi demanded. “Answer before the blatant way you insult my intelligence further rouses my temper.” 

Jennifer reached into a dumpy and oversized black purse, fishing around blindly. Several moments of shrill ringing lapsed before Daichi snatched the bag and dumped its contents on the table. Crumpled receipts, old napkins, lipstick, mascara, eyeliner, a plastic knife, mints from the Olive Garden, sunscreen, two jumbo-sized Snicker bars, a pair of car keys, sunglasses, and a tiny silver vibrator clattered to the table.

Deena gasped.

“Answer,” Daichi repeated.

It was only with effort that Deena’s huge eyes slid from the silver bullet to its owner.

Jennifer rose from the table, face a nightmarish red, only to have Daichi shake his head in forbidding fashion.

“You’ve interrupted our meeting. We will interrupt your conversation. Answer now.”

Jennifer dropped into her seat.

  “Hello?” she croaked.

Silence followed.

“No, I—”

She reached for her items and hurriedly began stuffing them into her purse.

“
Brian?
My
Brian?” she was on her feet. “No! I’ll be there immediately.”

Jennifer hung up the phone.

“I have to go,” she said. “I’m so sorry. My grandson—my grandson’s been attacked. I have to get to Edinburgh Academy.”

The phone in Deena’s purse began to vibrate. She looked down and saw it was Edinburgh Academy.

“Daichi, I’m sorry.” She was already pushing away from the table. “Edinburgh’s calling me, too. I better take this.”

Daichi tossed aside his pointer. He said nothing, but stepped closer, as if watching a fascinating scene unfold. Deena answered her phone.

It was the dean, insisting on a conference at once.

C
HAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Deena stepped into the dean’s office at Edinburgh Academy and froze at the sight of Jennifer Swallows. Next to her was a portly boy with an ice pack affixed to his face. And to Deena’s left, Tak and a scowling, wild-haired Tony.

“Deena,” Jennifer hissed, her gaze following her as she took a seat next to Tony. “Had I known the riffraff who attacked my baby was yours, I would’ve given you a ride.”

Tony’s hand clenched in a fist. Tak placed his own hand over it.

“Why would you call a child names?” Deena said. “Seventy years old and ill-bred as ever.”

“Ill-bred!” Jennifer sputtered.

Deena turned on Tony. “What happened? Did he attack you?”

Any offspring of Jennifer Swallows was prone to do just about anything.

Tony turned from her, focus now on a white stretch of wall.

“You heard your aunt,” Tak snapped. “Answer. Now.”

Tony sighed. “Yeah, I hit him first,” he said proudly. “And I’ll do it again if he bugs me.”

Deena stopped. “But he . . . harassed you?”

Tony shrugged roughly.

“I only tried to be his friend!” the fat child blubbered. “I tried to help him with his work!”

“Other students in the class tell me that Brian offered to assist with a writing assignment that Anthony appeared to be having difficulty with. In response, Mr. Hammond attacked him.”

Deena turned an incredulous look on the dean. “Well, that can’t be all to it,” she said. “Tell him what else happened, Tony!”

“That’s all. That’s it,” Tony said simply.

Deena and Tak exchanged a somber look.

“He shouldn’t even be here,” Jennifer Swallows blurted. “There’s an admissions process. Edinburgh Academy is the most exclusive private school in the Southeast, and I know for a fact that he shouldn’t have been here.”

“His reputation is horrible!” the fat child conceded. “All over the school he’s alienated other people! Frankie Spencer told me just the other day their family’s considering a lawsuit for public slander after something
he
said.”

“Frankie Spencer’s a doughnut bruiser.”

“Tony!” Deena shrieked. “My God!”

She looked from the dean to Jennifer, the latter of which smiled like she’d just been blessed with the sweetest, richest, most indulgent dessert.

“Keep it up,” Tak warned. “Keep it right up, Tony Hammond.”

Tony shot Tak a look of impatience but said nothing.

“I promise you, we don’t encourage this kind of behavior,” Deena said to the dean.

“Oh, you can hardly help it,” Jennifer said with mock graciousness. “After all, the whole office knows how he just showed up on your doorstep. How he was homeless just months ago.”

“Homeless?” Brian echoed.

“Somebody better shut her up,” Tony warned.

“Here, I was thinking the same,” Tak said with a look of caution trained on Jennifer.

“Subject to Edinburgh Academy protocol, Mr. Hammond will be faced with one week’s suspension for his actions,” the dean said.

“A week!” Jennifer cried. “That’s hardly enough! Look at my grandson. He’s been beaten!”

“It’s the extent of our capabilities,” the dean replied.

“Bullshit! You can kick his ass out,” Jennifer said.

“For a first offense?” the dean said.

“For a kid who just got here!”

Jennifer turned a scowl on Deena. “Influence, always influence. What tempting nugget did the Tanakas offer to get their riffraff into the most prestigious school south of the Mason Dixon line?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Deena said evenly.

“Like hell you don’t.”

Jennifer leaped from her chair, snatched her wounded grandson by the collar, which caused him to groan, and ushered him toward the door. Deena caught a glimpse of the furious shiner just beneath his icepack. It would haunt him for days.

“You know, Mrs. Tanaka,
maybe if you spent half as much time keeping this hooligan in check as you did feeding some thirst for riches the ghetto girl inside you desire—”

“What?” Deena cried, heated and overheated in an instant.

An arm shot out from Tak. He stood, putting a body between his wife and a woman nearly her grandmother’s age.

The dean leaped from his chair. “Ms. Swallows, I hardly think—”

“The PTA will know that you’re harboring a thug on campus,” Jennifer said, cutting him off. “Don’t be surprised if Pepperdine gets an influx of students in the coming weeks.”

Jennifer slammed the door behind her, forcing it to bounce with her fury.

Silence followed.

“Well,” Deena said finally, “we should probably go.”

“I’m afraid there’s one more thing. Something I didn’t want to mention in front of her.”

The dean returned to his desk. He picked up a simple black notebook and opened it before handing it over to Deena. There was a fist inside.

“This is what he spends his time doing while others are working.”

Seconds later, Tak, Deena, and Tony burst out of the office.

“Room for two weeks!” Tak shouted. “And not the room as you’ve got it now. I’m talking no TV, no video games, no computer, no breathing without my okay! You got that?”

Tak turned on him midhall, daring Tony to contradict.

Head lowered, hands in his pockets, he found sudden interest in his reflection on the floor.

“Yeah,” Tony said.

“
Yes,
” Tak snapped. “And you’re not gonna just be lying around, either. You’ll pick up on the chores. Mrs. Jimenez’ll let you know what to do. You give her a hard time, and you’ll see that two weeks lasts as long as I say they do. You got it?”

“Yes.”

Tak stormed down the hall with Deena just behind him. She glanced back only once to shoot Tony a glare of warning.

C
HAPTER THIRTY

Tony rode with Deena, at her insistence, back to the house. She’d handled things this way to give Tak time to cool off and Tony a moment to express himself.

“If he did something to you,” Deena said quietly as she merged onto I-95, “something you didn’t want to mention back there, it’s okay. You can tell me now.”

Tony said nothing.

“When you were back at the group home—”

“I’m not gonna talk about the group home,” Tony snapped.

Deena lapsed into silence. And it was in silence that they drove home.

When she pulled into the driveway, it was next to Tak’s convertible. Silently, Deena and Tony went into the house only to be greeted by the sight of Tak pacing.

“Go to your room,” he snapped.

Tony slumped off.

“What now?” Tak demanded the moment he was out of earshot. “What now, Dee? And what the hell is happening?”

“It was a fight, Tak. There had to be some reason why.”

“Before you came, the dean was telling me about all this—this
shit
he does. Always cursing! Never paying attention! And you heard what he said about the gay kid!” Tak shook his head. “He’s threatened other kids before.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Tak turned away from her, retracting a look of breathless rage.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I just—I don’t know.” He headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” Deena called.

The door slammed in response.

~*~

Two hours of driving in circles and thirteen floors of stairs later, Tak burst through the doors to the lobby of his father’s office. The cool, clipped, and professional voice of an automated woman welcomed him in English, Spanish, and Japanese. He trekked across Spanish marble, tossed a wave first at his father’s secretary Angela, and banged on a massive door of African mahogany.

“Takumi!”

Angela, ever anxious, rushed around to meet him.

“Your father’s on a phone call from Madrid! I don’t think he’ll—”

Tak barged in.

Daichi Tanaka held the phone to his ear.

“I need to talk to you,” Tak blurted. “And I can’t come back later.”

Behind him stood Angela.

“I tried to tell him you were on a call—”

“It’s all right,” Daichi said and switched over to fluent Spanish. “
Lo siento. Estoy obligado a retomar esta conversación en otro momento.
” Daichi paused. “
Por supesto. Tenga un buen día.
”

When he hung up, his gaze traveled to Angela. She backed out of the room, and Tak lowered himself into a seat.

“Mia’s all right?”

Tak nodded.

“Then this is about what happened at Edinburgh.”

Tak massaged a brow. “I’m in over my head, Dad.”

Daichi sat back.

“You react from your heart and do so without exception. In this case, you’ve taken a child you know nothing about without thought of the potential consequences.”

Tak boiled. “What was I supposed to do, Dad, since you know everything? Trash him? Leave him to be raised by taxpayers?”

“Certainly not. But you were supposed to give adequate thought to the issues that might arise.”

Tak sighed. “He’s in counseling. We all are.”

Daichi paused. “Then you’re not here about him. You’re here about you.”

Silence passed between them.

“I’m confused. And angry. He does things that make no sense. Steals what he doesn’t need to. Lies about what doesn’t matter. It goes on and on. Little things. Like whether he ate the last of the strawberries. I would shake him if I thought it would rattle some sense into him!”

Daichi scratched his head. “I’m afraid I don’t have anything of value to offer in the way of psychological assessments for troubled children, and you don’t need me to tell you I’ve been an inconsistent father.”

“Get to it, Dad.” 

“Well, even parents without troubled children go through these emotions—confusion, uncertainty, anger, doubt. We wonder whether the job we’ve done is adequate, and we long for moments back so that we might correct perceived mistakes. These feelings are magnified when juxtaposed against stress of any sort. Your stress, of course, being the newness of your role as father to a troubled son.”

Tak sat back with a snort at his father’s choice of words. “Father to a son?” he echoed.

“You don’t think of yourself as his father?” Daichi said, surprised.

Tak looked up, thoughts interrupted.

“Oh, it’s not that,” he said. “I just think it’s painfully ironic that I’m raising the son of the man who tried to kill me.”

His father smirked.

“You know, as far back as Hammurabi, a woman’s chastity was deemed to be a tribute
to
and a thing of value
for
her family. Perhaps Deena’s brother anticipated your desire to, uh, take that.”

Tak grinned.

“Think of Anthony Hammond as the man who brought you to the woman you love. Or rather, forced you to look at her via gunpoint.”

The two laughed. Life had a way of being funny, even when it shouldn’t have been.

“You have regrets?” Daichi finally asked.

It was the question Tak had been too fearful to pose himself. “I don’t want regrets.” It was the best he could do.

Daichi nodded.

“Well, he’s your son now. For better or worse. And as I’ve found, we often must get through the worst with our sons to enjoy the best.”

Tak shot him a rueful smile, paused, and then headed for the door. On his mind were thoughts of the strained father-son journey they’d shared, culminating, of course, in the accident that nearly took his life.

“There’s something else,” Daichi said. “Ordinarily, I would never do this, but . . .”

Tak waited, a hand on the doorknob.

“It’s about Deena. You should know about the project she’s on.”