But the biggest change—or at least the one she could control with a few well-chosen words—was Gabe’s involvement in their lives.

“Mom, I don’t need the doctor,” Andrew told her, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. “I feel good. I stood up to Johnny. He’s not going to bother me again.”

God, she hoped that was true. The warrior mother in her still wanted to throttle the little jerk who’d antagonized her son, but she hadn’t admitted any of that in front of the principal or Andrew’s teacher.

“According to Johnny,” she reminded Andrew, “you came after him unprovoked.”

“That’s a lie,” Andrew said, his voice losing its fervent edge.

“Then tell me why.” She adjusted the seat belt so she could turn to face him. “It doesn’t help your case with the principal that you wouldn’t give details as to what he said to upset you, Andrew. All she knows is that you started a fight with a boy on the playground.”

“I didn’t start it,” Andrew insisted. “I finished it.”

Angi set her jaw and darted a look at Gabe. “I assume you taught him that bit of wisdom.”

“No,” the infuriating man answered. “But I respect the hell out of him.”

“No swearing,” Angi warned.

Gabe nodded. “Right. Sorry.”

“I learned it on YouTube,” Andrew offered. “But Gabe taught me not to tuck my thumbs when I make a fist. That way I can punch harder.”

To his credit, Gabe had the good sense to look chagrined. “Your mom is right, Drew.” He looked at her son in the rearview mirror. “Violence doesn’t solve problems.”

“It stopped Johnny from saying mean things,” Andrew countered.

“What mean things?” Angi demanded. “What on earth could that boy have said to make you react in that way, Andrew?”

“He said my daddy didn’t want me which made me a stupid little...” His voice cracked as he finished, “Crap bastard.”

Gabe turned into the mill’s gravel driveway at that moment, taking the speed bump too quickly. Angi let herself be jostled, like she was riding a violent wave after the ocean had been turned up by a storm. That’s how she felt—as if she were being pulled under and then thrown again. Her emotions pitched back and forth, tossed this way and that before finally being dragged under into the darkness.

The truck jerked to a stop, and Gabe threw it into Park and turned fully to face her son. “That boy at your school—Johnny, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Johnny is a jerk, Drew. He’s a piece of dog poop on your shoe, and nothing more.”

Again with the life coaching, Angi thought, but that was the only coherent idea that registered. She should take over. As the mom, this was her issue. As the single mom who’d walked away from Andrew’s father without a word or any attempt to make him own up to his responsibility, this was completely on her.

She was afraid to speak. Afraid all that would come out was a keening wail because that little piece of dog poop had given voice to her biggest fear for her sweet child. That he’d be judged for her mistakes.