Page 28 of Blessings in Disguise

* * *

Two days later, Harlan was still missing. Caleb dressed for a scheduled meeting with Jackson at Pathways. He hoped Jackson had news about him.

Gemma would be there. Caleb vowed to endure it.

When he opened the outside door from his office, he found someone on his small porch. It took a minute to register who the visitor was. Saul Jacobs had aged since the bombing. His hair was turning gray and his eyes were dull.

“Hello, Caleb.”

Caleb gripped the doorknob. “I-I thought you were in jail.”

“Turns out they didn’t have enough to convict me. Probably because I didn’t bomb the church.”

He wasn’t buying that. “Why are you here?”

“I want your forgiveness. For Marlena.”

“Are you and Marlena still together?”

“No. It…didn’t work out.”

Caleb shook his head. “All that for nothing.” There truly was no God.

“Can I come in?”

“No, I have a very important meeting about a boy I’m counseling.”

“I need to talk to you, too.” His desperation melted some of Caleb’s anger at the man.

“Give me your contact information. I’ll think about calling you.” The guy handed him a card. “Now goodbye.”

Jacobs left—limping--and Caleb went to the garage to get in his car. All the way to Pathways, he blocked out Jacobs’ visit and focused on Harlan and what to do next.

He walked into Jackson’s office to find Gemma already there. “Is there news?” he asked Jackson.

“No. Harlan’s still MIA.”

Caleb dropped down in a chair, avoiding Gemma’s gaze.

Jackson continued, “He’s in violation of Pathways’ agreement with the law. Technically, he should go to juvie now.”

Gemma leaned over the table. “That’s ridiculous. The school year’s over. He fulfilled his requirements. Graduation’s less than a week away.”

“I know, Gemma.” Jackson seemed at his wit’s end. “But I have responsibilities to Pathways to obey the law.”

“Who would you report to?”

“I have a contact with the State.”

Gemma’s expression turned sad. “I don’t mean to hurt you with this but remember what happened last time you reported a boy from Pathways? It turned out to be a mistake.”

Jackson looked as if she’d punched him in the gut. “Frankie Pecorino. I righted my mistake.”

“Listen to yourself. You know that it was a mistake then, and it’s a mistake now.”

She was right and Jackson knew it.

Just then, Caleb’s phone rang. “Maybe this is him.” He fished out his cell. “Caleb Shepherd.”

---