Free The Good Mom by Cathryn Parry Page B

doing them well right now. And I’m afraid that if you fall behind in math, it’ll just get worse. And all the connections you have can’t help you if you don’t pass the tests. It’s on you, Brandon.
    â€œIf you’re going to stay here, you need to take responsibility for the work, not anyone else. That was made quite clear with me today. That’s why I’ve been in meetings all morning about it.”
    She sighed. “Look, I would tutor you myself if I could. But I’m afraid I was never strong at math. I took as little of it as I could get away with when I was in school. And now you’re at a higher level than I ever saw.”
    He worried his lip. “What if I can’t pass it?”
    She looked at him sadly. “We can’t think that way. Positive, remember?”
    â€œI know, but...what if I can’t pass the next test? It’s in October. If I can’t pass that one, then I’ll have to leave at the end of the semester, right?”
    She didn’t say the obvious. “We will take one step at a time,” she said firmly.
    â€œYou can tell me the truth, Mom,” he said.
    She sighed. “If you don’t pass, it won’t be the end of the world. You’ll just have to go back to your old school.” And he wouldn’t get as good a foundation for a preparatory high school followed by college entrance exams. Medical school would seem that much more difficult to achieve.
    God, he’s only twelve! How can he have so much pressure on him?
    Brandon glanced down. “Did Dr. Lowe not like me?” he asked in a small voice. “It seems like you’re saying he’s not going to tutor me. I have a feeling he could really help me.”
    She put her arm around her son, her heart breaking. It reminded her of the day, four years earlier, when she’d had to leave him to go into rehab. When they’d sat in the therapist’s office and broken the difficult news to Brandon. He’d taken it in stride, but he’d been just a little boy then. The conversation had been harder for her than for him.
    Now...
    He was growing up. Things were different.
    She swallowed, aware that she had to do this parenting on her own. No counselor to help her.
    But she was doing it.
    â€œBrandon,” she said carefully, “Dr. Lowe has a lot on his plate right now. His decision has nothing to do with you.”
    Brandon hung his head sadly. “Yeah, it does. He said he wanted to help, and then after he met me, he obviously changed his mind.”
    Ashley’s heart nearly broke for the millionth time that morning. Brandon thrived on making sure that people liked him. And he was so genial, so happy-go-lucky that most people did like him.
    But that need could be a liability, too.
    â€œPlease, let’s put it behind us, Brandon, and come up with new solutions.”
    He stubbornly set his chin. “I think Mrs. Sharpe wants me to work with him. She’s his grandmother, you know.”
    Ashley inhaled. She liked her son’s arrangement with Mrs. Sharpe less and less as time went on. “Did you speak with Mrs. Sharpe about any of this?”
    â€œNo,” he admitted. “We don’t see her much at the ballpark. She doesn’t come down to the team rooms—she’s too old. But I remember Dr. Lowe from the Captains bullpen when I was eight. He used to work with the team. He left right around the time I started, but I remembered him. I really think he could help us, Mom. He’s smart.”
    She couldn’t argue with any of this—except to tell her twelve-year-old that Aidan Lowe, like her, was a complicated person who carried baggage along with him.
    She sighed and glanced at her watch. They weren’t going to solve this problem now, and, unfortunately, she was going to be late for work if she didn’t get moving. “Okay, Brandon. We’ll talk more tonight.”
    â€œPlease, Mom,”