The Pieces We Keep by Kristina McMorris Read Free Book Online

movies that might be giving him these ideas? Kids often absorb images, or song lyrics from the radio, and actually don’t understanding their meaning.”
    Audra grappled for the source, hindered by an overload of thoughts. “We don’t watch TV at home. Rarely anyway. When he does, it’s only cartoons. Disney. Pixar.”
    “Maybe when you’re not around, then?”
    “I’m always around. I mean, I wasn’t in the beginning, but—that was before.”
    He was only three months old when she entered her final year of veterinary courses at Pacific University. Yet it was never a challenging juggle, with Devon’s dedication as a father.
    “Jack does stay for after-school care now,” she admitted, “but just for a few hours. I get there as soon as I can. Being the only parent, and working full-time—”
    “It’s okay.” Miss Lewis reached forward and gave the desk a light pat, as if meant for Audra’s arm. “Nobody’s criticizing you as a mother. We’re just trying to solve this, to create the best possible environment for Jack. And for the other children.”
    So that was the point of this meeting: to keep the class safe from Jack.
    “My son wouldn’t hurt anyone,” she told them. Then had to add, “Not on purpose anyway. It was obviously an accident.”
    “I’m sure it was.”
    “As for these drawings,” Audra said, “he could’ve learned about all of this from another kid. Maybe from a video game. Somebody might’ve snuck one into class. Just think about how violent those things have become.”
    Whatever the case, Jack had every right to be fascinated by death. He was still comprehending the passing of his father. At the clinic, plenty of children processed loss in their own ways, at their own speed.
    “You’re absolutely right,” Miss Lewis said. “That might be all it is. However, coupled with his behavior this week—more distressed and isolated than usual—it might help Jack to see someone. A person he can talk to.”
    Distressed. It seemed a lightly veiled word for disturbed, a description that didn’t pertain to Jack. The label applied to other kids, violent ones. The vicious shooters at schools and malls and movie theaters who took their own lives when cornered by a SWAT team.
    Miss Lewis produced a business card from her top drawer. “With summer around the corner, I thought you might consider setting up a private session with Dr. Shaw.”
    “Or if you’d be more comfortable,” the man assured Audra, “I also know several other therapists in town who are excellent. I’d be happy to refer you.”
    Audra studied the card without taking it. All points and edges like a perfect paper shard. She looked up at Miss Lewis before making her own cause-and-effect inquiry. “And, if his behavior continues as it is ... ?”
    The woman glanced at Dr. Shaw, a message traded between them. “Why don’t we cross that bridge when we get there.”

6
    T he air was moist from the river below, crisp with summer’s decline. On the block of concrete stood a lone iron lamppost. Beside it, Vivian pulled her cardigan closed and hugged her elbows atop the rail.
    She stole a glance at a passing couple, then a second pair and a third, half expecting to spy Isaak’s face. As if catching him with a lover would put her feelings to rest.
    It had been several hours since they’d parted in the storeroom; still, the ache refused to dull. She trained her attention on the landscape. The setting sun cast London’s skyline in silhouette. Orange rays poured liquid ribbons over the Thames, guiding a flock of boats downstream.
    Following long workdays, this spot was her cherished retreat.
    Faced by such surroundings-the vast winding river, the grand Houses of Parliament-many would be discomfited by a feeling of insignificance, reduced to but a speck in the universe. To Vivian, the scene gave proof of purpose. For why else would humans exist? Each played a small but integral part of a massive design, so intricately crafted