“I know he loves art, and I’d like to support that interest, but we also have a special needs foster child who demands a lot of our attention. Plus, my wife often works weekends.” The man sighed. “I don’t see how we could commit to every Saturday for six weeks.”

It was difficult to fault Butler’s excuse.

So much for that idea.

Unless he volunteered for chauffeur duty.

Phone pressed to his ear, Steve stared out the window, toward Eye of the Beholder. It wasn’t as if he had any other obligations on Saturdays—or anytime else, except for work—and six weeks wasn’t all that long. It would also fit with his current shift schedule. And it would mean the world to that little boy.

He could do this.

Maybe he ought to do this.

For Noah—and for Jonathan.

Quashing a wave of all-too-familiar melancholy, he refocused on the interior. Charley lifted his Mexican coffee in salute as he sauntered toward the door, vibes of encouragement and support flowing from him.

“Sergeant Adams? I wish I could agree to this, but with everything—”

“I’ll tell you what.” Steve took a deep breath—and took the plunge. “If it’s okay with you, I’ll run him back and forth. I’ll also pick up the tab for the class.”

A beat ticked by.

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“If you’re certain it’s not too much of an imposition, I’ll take you up on the offer to drive him. But we can swing the fee.”

“Why don’t you let me take care of it?” If the man had a special needs foster child too, funds could be tight—no matter how much the state provided in assistance. “I’d like to play a role in helping Noah develop his talent.”

“In that case, I accept. Thank you. Wait until he hears this. He’ll be over the moon. Do you want me to round him up so you can tell him? He’s in the yard somewhere sketching.”

“No. You can have him call me later, after he comes in.”

They finalized arrangements for the first pickup, and Steve ended the call. Went online to register Noah for the class. Finished off the latte that had brightened his morning.

But as he left The Perfect Blend to begin his workday, it wasn’t the boost of energy from the caffeine flowing through his veins that lightened his step.

It was a healthy dose of optimism—and a sudden sense that somehow today he’d turned a corner. That life was about to take an upswing.