Page 2 of Lawson & Jill

“Strangers,” Law answered.

“Hmmm, I don’t know, mister. Maybe you should talk to my mom.”

Lawson barked out a laugh. God, that felt good.

When was the last time I laughed?

“What’s your name?”

“Kenny. What’s yours?”

“Lawson.” He held out his hand. The boy put his small hand in Law’s, and Law gently shook it. “Well, Kenny, I appreciate your offer.”

As he was smiling down at the boy’s gap-toothed grin, he saw something awe-inspiring in his peripheral vision.

Holy hell.

“What?” Kenny asked, his head swiveling.

Had he said that aloud? Nope, he hadn’t. But he’d definitely moved his head and now the kid was looking at the same attractive woman’s butt that he was.

Not good.

“What were you saying, Kenny?” he asked to distract the kid, while still trying to take in the sway of the woman’s backside in her yoga pants.

Holy hell. Where is she going? Even if it’s macramé 101, I’m in.

“I can tell you’re not listening. Do you know how?” Kenny asked.

Law grinned as she turned a corner. “How?”

“You ask questions and then don’t listen to my answers. My mom does that when she wants to do something else. You can tell me if I’m bothering you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” Law assured him. “You’re teaching me. You’re right, if something is upsetting me, I need to talk about it. Annnnnndddd….even if I don’t really want to do something like art class, I should probably give it a try.”

Kenny looked up at him sideways, “I taught you that?”

“There you are,” a young man’s voice called out.

Kenny and Law looked up and saw a harassed-looking skinny guy jogging down the hall. “I’ve been looking for you, Kenny. You’ve been gone for over fifteen minutes. You need to get back to class.” He gave Law a suspicious look. “Who are you?”

“I was looking for Room 1013.”

“Oh, you’re looking for the Grief Group. Yeah, they start up the same time we do, so you’re late. Follow me, they’re a few doors down from us.”

“Do I have to work with Damien anymore?” Kenny whined.

“How about you work on a project with me? I’ve been wanting to make a dinosaur out of crêpe paper.”

“What color?” Kenny asked as he started to follow his teacher.

“Gray.”

“No glitter, right?”

The teacher looked over at Law and grinned.

“I swear, there will be no glitter.”