When it was time for my lines, Mr. Barnett stopped me numerous times. Not likely because he had a problem with what I was doing, but because he wanted to interact with me. Why else?
On one occasion, he even acted out Jared’s part of the scene with me. I watched his face light up as we exchanged dialogue. Genuine interest seemed written all over his face. Was this the beginning of my dream come true?
Mr. Barnett gave final instructions before we left. “I want lines for this act memorized in two weeks.” I wondered how I’d juggle homework and a zillion lines between now and then.
I headed for the bus stop with Andie, Paula, and Kayla. That’s when Andie jumped all over me. “It’s really too bad you and Jared broke up, you know. This could’ve been so-o romantic,” she crooned.
Paula wasn’t quite as direct, but she had an opinion, all right. “I have a great idea. Why couldn’t you and Jared act a little friendlier offstage, at least for the sake of the play?”
Some nerve!
“Look, you two,” I said, irritated beyond my limits of mature behavior, “if you think Jared’s so fabulous and wonderful…well, have at him.” Boiling with anger, I pulled on my hair clasp, and my hair came pouring down. “He’s all yours.”
I halfway expected Paula to take me up on it. Not too long ago she’d been crazy over Jared. Now that he was free for the taking, though, she didn’t even seem interested.
I sat in the back of the bus by myself, while Andie and Paula crowded in with Kayla. Periodically, they turned and scowled their disapproval.
Fine, I thought, staring at the backs of their heads. Go ahead, behave like the children you are.
At home, Stephie met me at the front door, squealing her excitement. “I’m going to be in The Sound of Music!”
“That’s perfect,” I said, swinging her around. “We can practice the ‘Do-Re-Mi’ song together.”
She nodded, taking my hand and pulling me into the kitchen. Mom looked up from her desk in the corner.
“Mommy made snickerdoodles for us to celebrate,” Stephie announced.
“I think she’s become an addict,” Mom said, laughing. “Like you.”
I picked out three extra-round cookies before settling down at the bar. “Mmm, perfect.”
“Thought you’d be ready for something sweet,” Mom said, handing me an envelope. “This came in the mail today.”
I recognized the handwriting. “It’s from Daddy.”
I hurried to the knife rack and sliced the envelope open.
“Careful Maria doesn’t cut herself,” Stephie teased.
“Yes, Marta,” I answered.
Stephie seemed pleased with herself as she snatched up a handful of cookies and disappeared downstairs.
Letters from California were coming more frequently these days. Especially since Daddy’s visit to Dressel Hills a few weeks ago. Carrie and I had spent the entire day skiing with him, making happy memories. About time. More than five years had passed since he and Mom split up. We had some major catching up to do.
I pulled the letter out slowly, curious about Daddy’s life in California, as always.
Dear Holly,
Thanks for your letter. I always enjoy hearing from you. Carrie too. Please share this letter with her.
My reason for writing is to tell you some wonderful news. When you were here last Christmas, we talked about my investigation into the New Testament. Well, after many weeks of reading the gospels (several times, I must say), I’ve been pondering the teachings found in them.
Last week, I accepted Christ as my Savior during a Christian businessmen’s luncheon. I wanted you to be one of the first to know.
I stopped reading and looked over at Mom, who was sorting coupons at the kitchen desk. “Daddy’s become a Christian,” I said solemnly.
Mom leaped off the chair, coupons scattering everywhere. She peered over my shoulder.
“See?” I pointed to his words.
“That’s wonderful,” she said. Her smile warmed my heart.
I finished reading Daddy’s letter.
Many times I recalled your words, Holly, the ones you said that night in the Los Angeles chapel, nearly a year ago. Do you remember?
I stopped reading, thinking back. He and Saundra, his new wife, had come to hear me sing while I was on tour with the church youth choir in California. After the concert, Daddy and I talked quietly on the second pew of the sanctuary while the risers and sound equipment were being carried out to the bus. He’d held my hand as we discussed his sister, my aunt Marla, and her death. For a precious moment I had felt close to my estranged father.
I continued reading:
I’ll never forget what you said, Holly: “I’ve been praying for you all this time,” you told me. How grateful I am that you never gave up on your terrible old man.
What did he mean, terrible? He had no way of knowing what I knew about his and Mom’s divorce. In fact, it had only been a few weeks since Mom and I had the mother of all heart-to-heart talks. Shocking as the truth was, it boiled down to two major problems. Daddy had been determined to move to California. Wanted to uproot the family to pursue his career in another state without taking Mom’s aversion to big cities into consideration. She was stubborn, too, and wouldn’t agree to go. Ultimately, she sent him on ahead, by himself, secretly hoping he’d get his fill of the mad-dash executive lifestyle in a few months. But Mom’s plan backfired. Daddy had thrived on the fast pace and never returned.
At that time, neither of them was a Christian, and Mom found it difficult to give in to Daddy’s desire to move. But that wasn’t the only problem. My father was proud and sorely hurt. When Mom had a miscarriage and asked him to come back to Dressel Hills while she was hospitalized, Daddy refused. Evidently he wasn’t interested in having more children anyway, and his selfish reaction to her request was the straw that broke the marriage.
Stubborn and angry, they agreed to divorce, leaving Carrie and me without a father. And with a hollow ache in our hearts.
Of course, I didn’t know all this at age eight, but now I was much more mature. Was I mature enough to forgive Daddy for leaving? I sighed, thinking back to the many years of nightly prayers.
For Daddy…
For all of us.
I folded the letter and carefully slipped it back into the envelope. Daddy was a Christian now—the answer to my dearest prayer. So, why wasn’t I dancing for joy?
I joined Mom at the sink. She whittled away at a long, fat carrot, flicking curly shavings into a bowl.
“The Lord answered my prayer,” I said softly.
Mom nodded, and letting the peeler fall into the sink with a clatter, she reached out to me. For a long, sweet moment we held each other. Mom stroked my hair, whispering “Holly-Heart” over and over. Her soothing voice and her gentle perfume erased my worry. If only for a moment.
In a strange sort of way, the timing of his conversion upset me. It had taken all these years to find out the truth, and just when I was ready to unload on him, ready to fire questions at him about the rotten way he’d abandoned us, he decided to become a follower of Jesus Christ.
God had forgiven Daddy. Wasn’t I supposed to do the same?
STRAIGHT-A TEACHER
Chapter 8
Supper was plain boring. Not because the Spanish rice and fixings weren’t delicious. It had to do with living in limbo, waiting for the weekend to melt into Monday, when I would see Mr. Barnett again.
Grabbing my journal, I let Carrie do kitchen cleanup while I headed for the porch swing to record my thoughts. The last rays of the sun warmed my back as I drifted back and forth, thinking through the amazing events of the past week. My attraction to Mr. Barnett was more than a silly crush. I was sure of it.
I opened my journal.
Friday, April 15. If my friends knew my secret, they’d die laughing. Especially Jared. Danny too. I’m sure Danny would think my feelings for Andrew Barnett are totally illogical. But so what? I don’t care!
I lay down on the swing, letting its gentle swaying lull me into a daydreamy place where it was safe to concoct elaborate scenes. Warm, cozy scenes featuring Andrew and me. He looked into my eyes, sharing the secrets of his life, his dreams, his goals. Yet he seemed to see how wonderful I was, too.
Then we walked together, in a wooded area near a pond, talking about nature and life and God. He listened, admiring my adult view of life, and my faith. Beneath the moonlit sky, he held my hand, clasping it warmly in his.
Andie’s loud whistle caught me off guard. The daydream tumbled down as she plopped onto the chaise lounge across from me. “Whatcha doin’?” she asked, smoothing her Capri pants.
I sat up on the swing, stretching, surprised to see her. “Nothin’ much.” I held my journal close.
She glanced at me, wistful eyes acknowledging her curiosity. “Anything going on?” She pulled her knees up under her chin.
“Nope,” I said, wondering if now was a good time to test my secret on her. “Just catching up on my journal, that’s all.”
“Oh,” she said, her voice trailing off. “Thought I’d come over. Nothing’s happening at home. I tried to call…your phone’s tied up.”
“Stan’s hogging it,” I commented without thinking. Now she’d probably launch off on her jealous routine.
“Who with?” I was right, she had to know. “Better not be Paula. She gives me the creeps being Liesl in the play. You know she has that long, lovey-dovey scene with Stan.”
This was so childish. Why wasn’t I surprised?
“What do you think of Mr. Barnett?” I heard myself saying.
“Him?” Andie shrugged. “He’s okay, I guess. Might make a good teacher someday.”
“Might?” I snapped.
“He’s so…so serious. Kinda like you’ve been lately.” She was using one of her best tactics to get me talking.
“What’s wrong with that?” I crossed my legs and pulled them under me.
“It’s not like you, Holly.”
“You’re wrong. I am serious,” I said. “Much more than you know.”
Andie cocked her head, studying me. “This is about something else. Mr. Barnett, right?”
Hearing his name took my breath away. “I think he’s a wonderful teacher,” I said softly.
Andie raised her hands to the sky. “Not another crush, and on an older guy, no less! Didn’t you learn anything from your fiasco with that pen pal, Lucas Leigh?”
“This is different,” I answered. “I didn’t have these feelings for him.”
Andie put her hands behind her head. “Well, I’ve got all night.” She leaned back. “So…Mr. Barnett, huh?”
“He’s pretty fabulous,” I said defensively.
“Of course you’d think so—you’re the teacher’s pet!” She wasn’t taking me seriously.
I turned my head and looked at the front yard, gray in the fading light of dusk. Cunningly, I steered the conversation away from Mr. Barnett by telling her about Daddy’s conversion.
“That’s so great, Holly. It’s what you’ve been living for all these years,” she said. “What about his wife?”
“He didn’t mention her in the letter, so I don’t know.”
Andie leaned forward, her eyes boring a hole in me.
“You’re not so thrilled about this. How come?”
“Are you kidding?” I said, hoping Andie would drop it, now that she knew. After the way she acted about Mr. Barnett, I wasn’t eager to tell her anything else personal.
Mom stepped out on the porch with a glass candle holder and matches. “It’s getting dark,” she said. “Thought this might be more fun than a porch light.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I watched her light the candle and set it on the white wicker table beside the chaise.
“Is anyone using the phone now?” Andie asked her.
Mom glanced through the screen door. “I believe it’s free, but you’d better grab it quick.”
Andie excused herself and went inside. When she came back, Stan was with her. “We’re going for ice cream, wanna come?” she asked.
“Not tonight,” I said, getting up. “I have tons of lines to memorize.
“Did you sign up for the car wash next weekend?” she asked as they hurried down the steps. “We could use some more help.”
“Sure, I’ll help,” I said.
“See you at church Sunday,” Andie called to me before getting into the family van.
“Okay, see ya,” I said, hugging my diary tightly.
On Saturday, I took a break from learning lines and rode my bike downtown. Paula and Kayla were out jogging around the courthouse grounds.
“Holly, hey!” called Paula when she saw me. Her hair was pulled up in a loose updo. Kayla waved as she matched her pace with Paula’s. Their long legs moved in identical motion, glazed with sweat.
I pedaled hard to catch up with them, then coasted, free and easy, careful not to crowd them or throw off their rhythm.
“Looks like you guys are serious about this,” I said as we made another lap around the courthouse.
“It’s Miss Tucker’s idea,” Kayla said. “She’s desperate for runners this season.”
We circled the grounds again. Aspen leaves rippled, robins sang in chorus, and the Miller twins panted, out of breath.
At last we slowed our pace, coming to a stop. I dropped the kickstand down on my bike and sat on the courthouse lawn. Paula jogged in place, puffing spurts of air, slowly lowering her pulse rate. Kayla swung her arms wide around her, back and forth, running in place, creating a human windmill.
I pulled The Sound of Music script out of my backpack. “Some-times I wonder why I ever wanted to be Maria,” I complained, watching the twins do their stretches. “I didn’t realize how much work it would be.”
“You should join the track team if you think sitting around memorizing lines is tough,” Kayla said.
“Track’s not for me,” I confessed. “But I can’t wait to read through act two on Monday.” I pulled on a blade of grass.
“Anxious to see Mr. Barnett?” Paula teased.
I bit on the end of my hair. “What do you mean?”
“That you have a thing for him,” she said, flashing her perfect pearly whites.
Kayla perked up. “Is it true?”
“Where’d you hear such a thing?” I asked.
Paula’s eyes widened. “I can’t imagine Andie making up something like this.”
A cold shiver swept over me. “Andie told you that?” Some friend!
Embarrassed at our conversation, Kayla looked away, digging into her shorts for a ponytail band.
I stood up, brushing the grass off my shorts. “Look, I don’t know what kind of info Andie’s feeding you, but what I told her was I think Mr. Barnett’s a wonderful teacher. That’s it.”
“Okay, okay,” Paula said. “It’s no big deal then, is it?”
No big deal when you’ve just discovered your best friend can’t be trusted? How could Andie do this to me?
STRAIGHT-A TEACHER
Chapter 9
I ignored Andie as much as possible the next few days. Every single minute I had my head buried in my script. Besides that, after-school rehearsals and the article featuring Mr. Barnett kept me super busy. Because of a slight lull in homework assignments, I managed to turn The Lift story in well before the deadline.
My feelings for Mr. Barnett continued to grow. Not only had I included his name on my prayer list, he was showing up in my dreams, too.
Car wash day, Saturday, April 23, dawned sunny and hot, so I wore my jean shorts. By helping to raise money, I was doing my part for Danny and the quiz team. No way could I be Danny’s partner and still be true to my feelings for Mr. Barnett.
Danny showed up first thing, before any of the others. “Need some help?”
he asked as I searched in Pastor Rob’s pickup for an extension cord.
“I’m sure it’s around here somewhere,” I said, hoping I wouldn’t be stuck with Danny all day. Not surprisingly, he didn’t take the hint, and scurried around searching for it anyway. Finally he located the longest cord the church owned.
“Good, we’re in business,” he said.
Then Jared showed up. Now it was the three of us. Working as a team, we washed cars and vacuumed their interiors. By midmorning I was wiped out. “Can you cover for me?” I asked the guys.
“Glad to,” Danny said, wiping the perspiration from his forehead.
“Take your time,” Jared called to me.
I chuckled at their childish attempts to impress me—something I couldn’t imagine Andrew Barnett doing in a zillion years. Digging into my shorts for some cash, I headed to the nearest pop machine. I poked the appropriate selection and waited for the machine to do its thing. Nothing happened. Gently, I tapped on the selection button again.
“Kick it.”
I turned to see Andie. “Where’d you come from?”
“My dad just dropped me off,” she said. “Still mad at me?”
“ ’Course not.” I pushed the coin return. Coins clattered down and I picked them up to try again. “But I still can’t believe you told Paula about our private conversation.” I glanced around, hoping no one was listening. “It was supposed to be confidential.”
“What, that you think you-know-who’s wonderful? I thought you meant it was like some little crush. I mean, it’s nothing like the real thing, is it?”
My face felt hot. “Well, no. I’m not in love, if that’s what you mean.” The defensive words slipped out, even though they felt an awful lot like a lie. “It was a private matter, Andie, and I expected you to act grown-up enough to keep it to yourself. I mean, hey, if I can’t trust you, who can I trust?”
Andie grabbed my arm. “Look, I’m sorry. Paula’s the only one I told, honest.”
Could I believe that?
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