Lola thought that she should have been a model, not a social worker. Until she started talking. Her voice was calm and friendly. “Thanks so much for meeting with us on a Sunday,” she said kindly. “I know that you both work too, but I just am slammed this coming week.”
“Of course, Kim,” Jacob said. “Thanks for arranging it. We know that this isn’t…easy.” He turned to Lola. “This is Lola Michaels. Lola, this is Kimi Kripps. She and I have worked together before.”
For a brief second, Kimberly Kripps’ eyes shuttered, making Lola wonder what the case had entailed, but just as quickly, she regained her composure and flashed a winning smile their way. “I’m a huge fan of yours, Ms. Michaels. I have a print of Sorrow at Night hanging dead-center in my living room.”
Lola flushed with pleasure. “Thank you,” she managed, shy for no apparent reason.
She had never been very good at managing her fan base and most of the time it didn’t matter because she wasn’t famous. She was…well-known. Respected by art connoisseurs and collectors, but not revered. Often, her shows, although they did well, did not sell out, leaving her a full tier down from household brand recognition. So, although she was quantitatively successful, the need to learn how to manage people who collected her work had never really been her priority. She just kind of winged the shows, made small talk while Sarah distracted people enough to draw their attention away from her and towards her paintings. It was a foolproof method, one that had worked for them since they’d met and gone into business together.
Her gaze drifted to the blue rug as she became aware of a pair of big, brown eyes studying her. Jordan Holt was sitting with his legs tucked under him, a book folded in his hands, a patch of unruly, dark hair falling over his collar and into his face as he watched her with intelligent eyes. Eyes that, even from where she was standing, held too much knowledge for someone so young.
Without waiting for an introduction, she stepped to the rug and plopped her handbag down before following suit so that she sat with her jean-clad legs crossed directly in front of him. “Hi, Jordan,” she said with a small smile. “I’m Lola.” She held out her hand and he eyed it skeptically for a moment before reaching out and giving it a brief, detached shake.
Her heart squeezed tight at the small contact, the feeling of the tiny palm in hers, but she forced all of her own emotions aside. “What are you reading?”
She didn’t hear Jacob and Kim behind her anymore, but she knew that they were there by the way that Jordan’s eyes flickered uncertainly towards where she knew them to be standing. She wasn’t sure what it was, but Lola was certain that there was something there, something that the child was thinking every time his eyes cast a longing glance behind her.
“The Borrowers,” he said eventually, showing her the front cover of the book.
She nodded, impressed. That was a good read for a ten-year-old. “I feel like Arrietty a lot of the time,” she said truthfully.
He smiled, clearly impressed that she had actually read the book and wasn’t just placating him. “She’s funny.”
Again, his eyes danced to where Jacob and Kimi were standing. Sensing that his curiosity would prove a good transition, she said, “This is my friend, Jacob.”
She heard Jacob come up behind her, ignored the flutter in her stomach when his hand came to rest on her back as he lowered himself to the floor beside her. She watched as the boys silently studied each other, equal looks of hesitation and skepticism on their faces.
Eventually, Jacob said, “It’s nice to meet you, Jordan.”
He held out his hand as she had done, and Jordan’s chest puffed slightly as he reached forward and returned the shake. “Kimi says you’re going to find whoever killed my mom.”
The words sounded wrong coming from such a small child, and Lola felt the tension in the room shoot up to an unbearably claustrophobic ten. Beside her, Jacob exhaled in one long breath and raked a single hand through his hair. After a few beats of silence, he replied, “Yes. Yes, I am.”
“And you need my help?” he asked, his brown eyes turned down with the weight of what he’d been through, but also surprisingly dry. Focused.
“If you feel up to it,” Jake nodded. “I would appreciate a partner on this.”
Jordan’s eyes flickered up to Jake’s face and then back down again, and Lola could sense that he was surprised and on guard. “What do you want to know? I’m just a kid. I can’t help you.”
Stretching out his legs in front of him, Jacob took a moment to settle in for what they all knew was going to be a long and exceptionally difficult conversation. He let out a groan that had Lola turning to look at him, her eyebrows raised. “What?” he asked. “I haven’t sat on the floor since I was like ten. I’m old now.”
“You sounded old just then,” she quipped with a small wink just for Jordan.
The boy grinned, his brown eyes lighting up for just a moment before he shook his head and looked back down at the carpet, his scraggly dark hair falling into his eyes.
Lola desperately wanted to reach out and smooth it away from his face, wanted to pull him in for a hug until some of the sadness died away, but she didn’t. She clenched her hands together in her lap. She knew that she could never replace his mother and she knew that, stranger that she was, any attempt at comforting him would not be welcomed.
At least not yet.
Sensing that Lola was maybe in dangerous territory, Jacob covered with, “Kids see things that adults don’t a lot of the time.” When Jordan looked up at him, he added, “Sometimes adults don’t think that what kids see is important, but they’re wrong, Jordan. You’re a smart boy. I read your file. I know that you do well in school and that you’re already skipping a grade this next year. So, maybe you have something that might help me find out who hurt your mom?”
Jordan nodded silently.
Jacob reached out a hand and laid in on the child’s bony shoulder. Everyone ignored the obvious tremor that ran through Jordan at the contact, but Jacob held his hand there for a moment longer before squeezing it and moving away. “Even if you don’t know anything,” he said, “you can tell me about your mom. Getting to know who she was as a person will help me do my job too.”
When Jordan looked up and met Jacob’s eyes, Lola felt her own eyes smart and angled her face away so that neither of the boys could see them watering. Catching Kimi’s eye, she noticed the other woman’s grief underneath her strong stance and determined gaze.
When Jordan said, “I’ll try,” from behind her, the two women exchanged mirrored heartbroken glances, before quickly turning their attention back to what was happening on the rug.
“Thank you,” Jacob said. He was quiet for a moment and when Jordan sighed audibly, he began with, “Tell me about your mom.”
Big, brown eyes looked up at him, blinking furiously to keep the tears away now. “She…sh-she was a really good mom,” he managed. “She let me do anything I wanted as long as I tried hard in school and was polite.”
Jacob clenched his fist by his side and waited patiently as the boy took a few deep breaths before continuing. “Even when I knew that she didn’t have any money, she never said no. Sometimes she said we had to wait, like when I wanted an X-box…but she never said no. Just that she needed to work harder and be better about saving.”