7. Game Changer

.

.

.

"It's really none of your business," was Sage's fuming reply. Adding a glare she hoped looked half as scary as one of her mother's, she pointedly stared from the hand on her wrist to Miri and back again.

Slowly, Miri took her hand away. "I think we both know you're not sick. I don't know any parents who like not knowing where their kids are." Squinting her eyes, she added, "And I don't think you make a habit of disobeying your parents' rules."

Sage pursed her lips, unswayed.

"I hoped we were friends." Sighing, Miri sat upright and laid her thumb on the flat surface of her key. "Whatever you're up to Sage, please be careful. I'd miss seeing you in class."

"Are you going to call my parents?"

"Is that what you would do, if you were me?"

Sage thought for a minute, not knowing any adult who wouldn't narc out a kid if they thought it concerned their safety. And her parents had impressed the importance of always letting someone know where you were going-at all times. "If you promise not to tell anyone, I'll tell you why I skipped class today."

Smiling, Miri sat back in her seat. "Okay, what's the big secret?"

"I want to go to the pond and look for something my mom lost."

.

.

.

A soft rap on Dusty's door at WorldWide preceeded Lily's arrival. "I'm not required to call you "boss", am I? And before you answer that, remember, I have incriminating photos."

"How long are you going to hold that Members Only jacket over my head?" he laughed.

"As long as I can." Smirking that he'd been "coaxed", Lily took the seat across from his. "What did you want to see me about?"

"I talked to Barbara at breakfast. Legal is writing up the offer for BRO as we speak. I'll have it messengered over to Tom by end of business today."

"I will feel out Carly tonight-see if I can interest her in the possibility of resurrecting her design career yet again," Lily promised.

"I don't think you're going to have push too hard."

"It may be harder than you think. She was literally burned ut of one business this year, and a large part of the other one didn't exist," Lily moaned recalling the spectacular failure her own mother had engineered.

"People bounce back," Dusty affirmed. "Silver platters have a way of doing that."

Lily let the comment pass. Dusty didn't need to know she knew of the pregnancy or that he knew. She secretly hoped Carly leapt at the chance, even with the timing. Juggling a new marriage and a new job would have been difficult enough. Adding another child to the mix might be one thing too many. Even for Carly.

"While I'm thinking of it-have you read the Greene Manufactoring report? It's underperforming."

"I know," Dusty agreed, rifling through the papers stacked on his desk.

"However, there is something interesting. Guess what asset they're trying to unload?"

"Not a clue," Dusty replied.

Coming around to his side of the desk, she leaned over his shoulder and flipped through the report. "Right there," she said, pointing at a line on page twenty-one.

"Is that what I think it is? Where I think it is?"

His face was only an inch from hers. So close she suddenly remembered the first time she'd noticed how blue his eyes were. Back a million years ago when they were teens. Lily dropped her voice a half step. "Unless they've rearranged the streets in Oakdale, I think so. Their warehouse for sale is right across from BRO. Barbara tried for years to buy it and expand."

"Now it's just sitting there," Dusty said, almost reverently. Good luck like that didn't drop into his lap everyday.

"What's this?" With a rapidly melting smile, Janet stood in the doorway with Dusty's apologetic secretary behind her. They certainly looked cozy, and from where she stood, he looked like he was enjoying it. They both looked like they did.

"I'm sorry Mr. Donovan, Ms. Ciccone wouldn't wait to be announced."

"That's alright, Beverly," Dusty replied, dismissing her. "What brings you buy? Where's my boy?"

"At the Lakeview with his Aunt Teri."

The arctic reply raised goosepimples on Lily's forearm as she stood up and took a step back from Dusty's chair. "Nice to see you Janet."

The clearly displeased Ms. Ciccone flared her nostrils. "Lily." Slightly bitter, the silence carried on for a few beats as Janet raised her eyebrow to Dusty, clearly expecting him to cue Lily out of his office.

Checking her watch, Lily delivered her own exit. "Dusty, if you'll excuse me, I have a conference call starting in a few minutes. Janet," she added politely, walking out the door.

Turning on her heel, Janet fingered her St. Christopher medal as she watch Lily take her skinny ass out of the room. "Is that how you spend all your days?" she goaded.

"How's that?"

"With bel nientes draped all over you."

"I can see my Italian's going to get a workout," Dusty smirked, sure it was some kind of insult. "Don't tell me you're jealous of Lily. We've known each other since we were kids."

"Probably not the best defense with me," Janet countered. "I loved Bradley since we were kids. From what I heard, she likes running to you whether or not Holden's in the picture."

Unsettled, Dusty bit back. "Problems in marriage aren't black and white. You should remember that." Standing up as he straightened his desk, he asked again, "Did you have a reason for coming downtown?"

"The contractor called. Something about the pipes. He wants to talk to us in person. I thought we could drive over together, and have dinner afterward."

"I need to talk to the legal department before I leave," Dusty replied.

Janet gave him a prissy nod of her head. "That's okay. I just remembered some errands I should run."

"Meet you there in half an hour, forty-five minutes?"

"Sure. Say goodbye to Lily for me," she added, stalking out of the room.

.

.

.

The hour and half ride to Eastlake Academy was an excercise in minimalist communication. Other than what he'd told Carly in the parking lot, Jack had no details. Carly tried calling JJ to no avail. And besides stopping at a drive thru over her protests for a sandwich and carton of milk for her, Jack's concentration seemed focused on the road.

He took her hand as they walked into the admistrative offices at Eastlake, and announced their arrival to a secretary. "We're Jack and Carly Snyder, JJ Snyder's parents. We're here to see the Dean."

"Dean Morgan will be with you shortly," she replied, showing them into a conference room.

"Where is my son?" Carly asked, barely able to contain how incensed she was.

"With the Dean," she answered, closing the door behind her.

Carly curled her fingers, as if to wrap them around someone's neck. "Ugh. Prententious, stuck up, mind games," she said, disgusted. "If I knew then, what I know now, I never would have allowed him to come here," she lamented as she began to pace the length of the room.

"Carly, you don't even know what's going on," Jack said calmly.

"Give me a break, Jack. They're wrong. JJ is too good a kid. He loves it here-God only knows why. He wouldn't do anything to mess up his last year here."

"The last time we were here, you loved it," Jack muttered under his breath.

"And now they can go to Hell on the first non-stop flight."

"Please don't say that before we get some explanation. For JJ's sake."

"Hey, Jack...don't try and manage me," Carly snapped, curling her lip. "You were ready to punch Chris Hughes for ordering a cheeseburger."

"I was not going to punch him," Jack denied vehemently. "I just-"

"Left your hungry pregnant wife sitting in Al's before you could," Carly finished for him.

Jack shot her an angry glance. Voices in the outer office announced more arrivals. Similtaneously taking deep breaths, they stood together as the door swung open.

"Jack? Carly?" Paul Ryan's benignly befuddled face stepped into the room, followed shortly by his wife Emily.

"Is this where they warehouse the bad parents?" Em asked bluntly.

Carly rolled her eyes as Jack folded his arms defensively. "It seems so."

"Oh, please. How bad can it be?" Paul crossed the room, helping himself to one of the bottled waters sitting on a tray. "The school's still standing. No one's in the hospital. Kids will be kids. The suits make them sweat a little, we scowl and threaten to take away car keys and trust funds. It's all a part of our teenage angst. At least it was for me," he concluded. "And Emily. And I'm pretty sure it was for you too, Carly." Gazing at Jack's rigid stance, he couldn't help but add, "But I'd guess Jack crossed every 't', dotted every 'i' on every paper he ever wrote."

"Ryan, why don't you shove-"

"Hey, Carly-I hear congratulations are in order," Emily interrupted, stepping in between the men before Jack could finish his thought. "You married the big guy here," slapping Jack on the shoulder. "Again."

"Yep. Yes, I did," Carly reluctantly replied, coming to the same conclusion as Emily had-their husbands were better off in neutral corners. "Thank you. How is Alison liking Carbondale? Gwen mentioned she started a new job there," she returned, playing the small talk game as Jack cooled his heels.

"Loves it."

"Gwen convinced her to join a Hot Yoga class she discovered," Carly smiled tightly.

"I heard," Emily nodded. "You couldn't get me to do that. I enjoy a sauna, but I just want to lie there and melt in the heat. Not contort myself into a puzzle piece."

"How's Eliza?"

It was Jack's turn to roll his eyes, knowing Carly hated trite discussions, especially since the friendship with Emily had glacial-ated over long ago. He would have to run into Paul today of all days. Something about the guy irritated him. And it had been that way long before Meg got involved with him. Not just something-nearly everything. His sarcastic sense of entitlement, his clear disdain of the law, the way he mocked every situation.

Short of running into Craig, there was no one he'd rather see less.

A lanky, balding man with glasses entered unceremoniously, followed by JJ and Danny Stewart Hughes. It had been so long since Jack had seen him, he barely connected the tow-headed pre-schooler who'd been almost a daily presence in his home with the cocky teen standing beside his son.

"Ms. Stewart. Mr. and Mrs. Snyder. I'm Wade Morgan, Dean of Students at Eastlake Academy."

Jack relucantly shook his hand as Emily introduced Paul. Carly had shifted over to stand by JJ, throwing her arm around his shoulder.

"I'm sorry we had to meet today under these circumstances. But this matter demands a quick resolution."

"I'd appreciate some details," Jack broke in. "I was simply told JJ was being expelled."

"JJ has forced the issue," Morgan elaborated. "A few weeks ago, the head of our sciences department discovered anomalies that suggested grading curves were being manipulated in certain classes."

"Could you speak English, please?" Carly asked sharply.

"Cheating," Paul simplified for her. "Yes?" he asked the Dean.

"Correct. The longer this type of behavior goes on, the more likely it is pernicious rumors will taint the reputation of the school and students who took no part in any such wrongdoing."

"You're saying my son cheated?" Carly asked angrily.

"I assure you, Mrs. Snyder, we don't take these matters lightly. We have proof. On two separate occassions, tests were revised in hopes of pinpointing if and where a student might be gaining access to a copy of tests beforehand. We found JJ snuck into the biology lab on one of those days. In addition, there was a correlating rise in his Advanced Biology grade."

"Did you find any of these tests on him? In his room? Do you have him on videotape rifling through a garbage can? Hacking into a teacher's computer? Of course not," Carly answered, without waiting for a response. "Because this "proof" you say you have sounds like coincidence to me."

"Mrs. Snyder, we did in fact find a sample test with JJ's writing on it. When confronted, he denied knowing anything about it."

"And I still do!" JJ shouted, fists balled at his side.

"None of this explains how my son is involved," Emily pointed out.

"JJ has accused Daniel."

"Is it true, Daniel?" his mother asked.

"Of course not, Mom."

"We just returned from searching Daniel's room. We found nothing related to any academic improprieties. However, there are other matters, Mr. and Mrs. Ryan, that we need to discuss privately."

Carly stewed as Paul, Em and Daniel were shown out. "So, my son gets no privacy. Is he also expected to prove he's innocent?"

"Mrs. Snyder, Daniel and his parents were only included because JJ accused Daniel."

"He's a nasty little creep!" JJ bristled. "Everyone knows it! He's had it out for me since last spring when I was voted captain of the la crosse team over him."

"What happens now?" Jack interceded, giving both Carly and JJ a moment to compose themselves.

"Because we have proof, we are suspending JJ for two weeks. At the end of that time, the matter will come before our board, and they will most likely recommend expulsion."

"So, it's possible they could recommend not to?"

"If JJ admits his actions and names others who benefitted; then possibly. Before this incident, he was a model student, and very well thought of around campus. With several recommendations, the board might be persuaded to hand down a strict punishment short of explusion."

Seeing neither JJ or Carly were inclined to ask, Jack pressed. "What might such a punishment be?"

"Failing Advanced Biology for the semester, being ineligible for sports for the remainder of the term. Restriction to the dorms when not in class. And of course, it would go on his permanent record."

"Sounds like prison," Carly whispered.

.

.

.

"Are you sure we're in the right spot?" Pushing her bangs aside with the back of a gloved hand, Miri sat back on her heels. "This is a huge pond."

Up to her elbows in the cold muck, Sage shrugged her shoulders. "Pretty sure. Mom said she was looking at the grove of lilacs, and there it is."

Miri had to admire the persistance. The water was cold, the mud thick and grimy, and the pond's edge choked with decaying plant life. "I think you might have to give up, Sage. We can't even know if we're looking in the right spot."

"It has to be here," Sage insisted. "It has to be."

"I think your Mom would have found it the day she lost it, if she could have."

"My Dad convinced her to stop. But I know my Mom, she wants the compass back. She believes in it as much as I believe in my necklace."

"Is that what this is about? I knew you were upset before the recital."

"Mom gave me this big speech about how we should believe in ourselves. That's there's no such thing as magic. But that's not what she really feels-she just repeated what my Dad said to make her feel better the day they got married. If I had had my necklace, I wouldn't have messed up."

"What do you think is going to happen if you don't find your mother's compass?"

Sage thought of the answer, but wouldn't dare say it out loud. "I don't know."

The answer was written on Sage's face. Miri tread carefully as to not hurt the young girl's feelings. "Sage-don't you believe your parents love each other?"

"Yes," she answered earnestly.

"Then what are you worried about?"

"Ever since I was little, my Mom told me the story. How my Dad gave her the compass so she could always find her way back to him. So they could always find their way back to each other. And for a long time they couldn't."

"Doesn't that prove-"

"No, it doesn't prove anything. Look," Sage started impatiently, "last year, my dad went away. And we were all worried about him. My mom found out where he was, and the first thing she did was find their compass to take with her. Then she found him and everything they felt came back. Everything worked out," she wrapped up. "What's wrong with believing in something more than you can explain?"

"Well...nothing," Miri conceded. "I think you're setting yourself up for disappointment, though."

"I believe my Mom will get it back. She's meant to have it."

The stubborn look on Sage's face made Miri sigh. "If it means that much to you..." The girl nearly knocked Miri over, muddy gloves wrapping around her in a hug.

"I knew you'd understand!"

The embrace was so unexpected, it overwhelmed Miri. "But I don't think we'll have much time left today," she said gruffly, pulling away from Sage just a tiny bit.

"I think you're right, maybe we're not in the right spot. You stay here, I'm going to go down the shore a bit. Just fifteen more minutes, and I promise I'll give up for today."

.

.

.

"I can't believe how much stuff you have here," Carly remarked, as she folded the last of JJ's shirts and packed it into his duffel bag. "Then again, it shouldn't. It's your home away from home. You need to have everything here that you do there."

"Mom. Enough." JJ stopped, hearing how rude and obnoxious he sounded. "This isn't my home. It's just where I go to school. At least it was."

"JJ, we can fight this-"

"How? I was here when they searched my room. I saw them find that note. It was in my stuff. Even if I could prove I didn't steal the tests, I don't think anyone would believe I didn't cheat. I joined a better study group," he explained defensively. "One that actually studied. I swear Mom. I knew it was a tough class when I chose it. Getting a B didn't upset me, even if it brings down my GPA. It's like getting an A. Everyone knows it."

Carly smiled. "Who would ever have thought I would have a son who actually chose the tough classes?"

"Lot of good it's done me," JJ said gloomily. "What am I going to do?"

The plea broke Carly's heart. "We'll figure it out, JJ. I promise."

Jack entered the dorm room, toting three boxes. "The RA finally found some cardboard boxes we could use."

"I was just telling JJ I can't believe how much stuff is here," Carly said.

"Lot of stuff to take home," Jack agreed. "The Dean said he would be in his office until six o'clock, if we needed to talk to him. About anything."

Glaring, JJ threw the rest of his cds into a box and held his hands out for the car keys. "I don't have anything to talk to Morgan about. Period."

"Okay then," Jack replied, fishing the keys out of his jacket pocket. JJ grappled with the unwieldly box, then snatched the keys as he stormed out the door.

"Really, Jack?"

"Really what, Carly?" he retorted. "Our son's in trouble here. I was just giving him an out."

Exasperated, Carly slung a bag over one shoulder. "Don't misunderstand, Jack. You are a caring man. A wonderful husband. A great father. I believe that with all my heart."

"There must be a pretty big but coming," Jack muttered.

"But...," Carly continued, "you're always a cop first. And this is one of those times I wish you could just believe."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jack huffed.

"That it's abundantly clear you can't take JJ's word for it. We'll go home, and you'll pick JJ's statement apart, line by line, gesture by gesture and then decide whether or not you believe our son."

"Not to state the obvious, but we just went through something similar with Parker, didn't we?"

Carly shook her head. "JJ is not Parker."

"I know that!"

"Then act like you do. 'Cause right now, I'm not sure JJ believes it."

.

.

.

Exhausted and smelling funky, Miri unlocked her apartment door, throwing her mail on the small entable to the left and turning on the light. The two bedroom apartment was a little more than she could afford, but it's location more than made up for the incidentals she had to give up to meet the rent.

Sage had kept her end of the bargain. After another quarter hour searching for the mysterious compass, she'd left without a word of protest. It got dark earlier now, and she knew she couldn't explain being home much later than she would have, had she gone to practice. It turned out there was no need to explain anything to anyone-when Miri pulled into her driveway, the house was still dark. No one was home.

It had been tempting when Sage invited her in. She wanted to see what the house was like. To see if the exterior charm matched the inside. It had always fascinated her, to see how people's homes matched their personalities. She'd guess that Sage had grown up in a warm, friendly kind of house. One with toys strewn about, crayon marks on the kitchen table, and woodwork scarred from years of gentle abuse. Every mark coming with a story that grew with each retelling at holiday time.

She liked Sage. She had since the moment they met at Happy Feet. It had pleasantly surprised her. She hadn't expected to. At least not immediately.

That's why Miri felt bad as she dug into her pocket. Walking into the kitchenette, she turned on the faucet, sliding the golden disk under thin stream of water. Liberated of mud and a gunky slime, it shined brightly as it caught the light. From what she could tell, the compass still worked, the slender needle twitching as she moved it to and fro.

"I think Sage is right," Miri said softly. "You show people where they're supposed to be."