Hardwired

by C. P. Rowlands

  “Are you really going back to Iowa, Clary?” Maureen said. “This town desperately needs good teachers.” She opened the refrigerator and placed a plate of something on the bottom shelf.

  Clary was still thinking about Maureen’s words and then realized she’d asked a question. “First of all, I have a contract,” Clary said, switching to radishes. “There aren’t any easy answers. For so long, Hannah was my kryptonite and teaching saved me, but after I got out of the hospital, I began to make a kind of progress. I don’t know.”

  “Missing children. It’s a bitch,” Maureen said with a hard little twist to her words. She wrapped a thin slice of ham around creamed cheese and speared the roll with a toothpick before she nailed Clary with a steely glance.

  Clary put the knife down and faced them. “Look, after the award last spring, it was—” She searched for words. “It was like I was done. I’ve never felt like that before.”

  Maureen put her hands on her hips. “Wouldn’t it be a bigger challenge, not to mention reward, of going where you’re needed? Like here, now, in South Port. The schools are in terrible shape, and I know for a fact that you’ve kept your Wisconsin certificate up to date.”

  Clary frowned at her aunt. She was right. She stopped and shoved the tomatoes around on the board with her knife. “I could do that. Leefe makes me think of staying, every day.”

  “And Devi?” her mother said.

  With a determined breath, Clary cut even faster. She didn’t even want to think about that.

  “Leefe’s a hero.” Maureen started another ham roll.

  Clary gave up on the tomatoes and sank down in a chair. “You’re right. She is.”

  “Not one of us has lived her life,” Mo said.

  Clary hesitated and looked at the deck and the spot where she’d first kissed Leefe. “Is it okay to be afraid?” Both Maureen and her mother laughed, but Clary only managed an uneasy breath. She stood to give the tomatoes another shot just as her phone began to play Glen Miller’s old swing music.

  “It’s Jean,” Clary said and took the call. When she hung up, she turned to Maureen and her mother. “She forwarded a letter from Robin last weekend. Do we have mail yet?”

  *

  Leefe and Devi sat on the day care porch, waiting for Clary. Comfortably tired, she looked out at the yard. All the kids were gone, and the house was closed for the night. Drowsy July sun stretched across the grass, and she felt some pride in the lawn. One of the teenage volunteers had mowed, and she and the older kids had done the trim. She let the ones she trusted use butter knives, but the others used old spoons to fill a bucket with dirt, grass, and weeds. The petunias and marigolds they’d planted in the spring shone, and everyone had a turn with the hose, watering them.

  Devi said something, and Leefe turned to the child. “What?”

  “What do I name you? Now,” Devi repeated, staring at her feet, shoulders hunched.

  “Oh.” Leefe wondered why she hadn’t thought of that. “I don’t know. What do you want to call me?”

  Devi shrugged, rubbing her dirty hands together.

  “Let’s think about it for a couple of days, and then we’ll talk about it again. Okay?” When Devi nodded, Leefe continued. “We have to clean up and go to a party with Clary. Think you can stay awake?”

  Devi looked interested.

  “With cake and ice cream.”

  Devi eyes lit up.

  Leefe nodded, just as Clary drove up. “C’mon, there’s our ride.”

  Clary looked at both of them and laughed. “I see a shower in both of your futures.” She smiled at Leefe. “Were you playing in the dirt too?”

  “Huh?” Leefe looked down at herself. “We did the yard and flowers. Maureen said she’d come over and help with the vegetables this weekend.”

  “The yard looks nice.” Clary patted her leg. “Did you hear anything else from the lawyer?”

  “No, but that’s okay. I want to be sure of the information.”

  “Well, I had a surprise today.” Clary reached for an envelope in the car’s visor and handed it to Leefe. The writing was large with a lot of loops. Leefe checked the return address.

  Leefe straightened in the seat. “Is this the Robin?”

  “Want to read it?” Clary said.

  “You bet.” Leefe took the paper out and began. The car bumped along in silence for a few minutes.

  “Out loud,” Clary said. “Read it from the beginning, out loud.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure, believe me.”

  The paper rattled as Leefe began to read.

  I’m sitting in the basement of the church. Donald and I talked to the pastor for two hours today about Hannah, you, and me, and the pastor suggested that I write you. He complimented us on what a good and happy little girl Hannah is, and so smart. I said that she’d been raised with care and love and imagination. You did, Clary. All of that, and I told him about you.

  The first thing I want to tell you is that I’m happy. And I love him. I’m about to have another baby, a boy, and we’re all thrilled. Donald loves Hannah and is good to her. They play catch in the backyard at night or work on the flowers and the grass (sound familiar?) He asks her about school, her friends, or whatever he thinks might interest her. In other words, he pays attention, just like you did. And I’m grateful, for both of you. I told the pastor that today and now I’m telling you.

  When I left, Jean said I was wrong not to wait for you and explain. At that time, I only wanted out but thinking back on it, she was right. I was a coward and didn’t want to face you. I have to admit you always looked happy to see me (except when you were working at your desk and I interrupted you).

  Hannah cried all the way to Oklahoma, but I cried too. If you remember, my parents kicked me out of the house when they found out I was pregnant and that Hannah’s father was married. Do you remember how sad I was when we met? But you got us through it.

  I cheated and was hateful to you. I’m sorry. That’s all I want to say. I hope you find someone like I have. Hannah asked if she can call you. Do you know she still has your number memorized? Donald agreed that a few calls won’t hurt. Is that okay with you? My e-mail is the same so let me know.

  Sincerely,

  Robin

  P.S. Here is a check for the money I took when we left. If you don’t want it, give it to a place, a church, or someone that can use it. You always knew who needed help (except me after I met Donald), and I know it’ll end up in the right place.

  Leefe held up the check. “This is a lot of money and she said what you said.”

  Clary gave a brief nod. “I did ignore her, but not to be mean.” Clary cleared her throat and squinted through the windshield. “The timing is so weird. You and Mrs. Ellis, and then finding your family. Now Hannah and Robin.” She shook her head a little. “I feel like the Universe is telling me—us—something.”

  “What are you going to do?” Leefe tucked the letter above the visor, trying not to think about the few weeks Clary had left in South Port.

  “Maybe I’ll become an astronaut,” Clary said and glanced at the sky.

  “What’s an asta-nut?” Devi piped up from the back seat.

  Both Clary and Leefe laughed as they parked at Leefe’s. “Astronaut,” Leefe automatically corrected her. “Let’s clean up now, and later I’ll show you. I have some pictures in a book.”

  Chapter Thirty-two

  The party was in full swing as Leefe and Devi stepped out onto Maureen’s deck. Howie’s wife waved at them. “Leefe, the kid’s table is over here. Where’s Clary?”

  “She’s talking to someone in the kitchen,” Leefe said and handed Devi over to her brother. They ran out into the backyard, their little voices fading into the soft summer evening. Leefe looked back into the kitchen, but Clary was nowhere to be seen. A man she didn’t know had spoken to Clary in the kitchen, shook her hand, and said something that Leefe couldn’t hear. Clary had looked surprised and told Leefe to go on.


  Leefe looked at the yard, amazed. There were staked lights burning around the perimeter and the flowers glowed. Round tables with white tablecloths were filled with people that she didn’t know. No, there was Beverly and her family, talking to Piper and Jesse. Rebecca Bishop and Dr. Bergs shared a table, talking to others she hadn’t seen before.

  She took the steps down onto the yard. There was a long serving table covered with various dishes and a wall of conversation and laughter. Suddenly, she was hit by a little body, screaming with laughter. She hardly recognized Jacob. Andy grabbed him and apologized.

  “Who are these people?” Leefe said.

  “Over forty years’ worth of neighbors and friends.” He looked across the crowd. “How do you like Jacob’s haircut? Did it myself today.”

  “I didn’t recognize him or the laughter,” Leefe said, bending to kiss Jacob’s head.

  “Could I get some advice from you? I’m still young enough to handle this little fellow as a foster parent or whatever. Jesse said you know his mother.”

  “She and the rest of the kids are in the old building by the bridge at the lake. Not a good situation. You know his father’s in prison, up north?” They began to walk to the children’s table.

  Andy switched Jacob from one arm to another. “No, I didn’t. Why?”

  “Domestic violence and he beat the neighbor who tried to help Jacob’s mother. There was a gun involved. Talk to Beverly, but I’ll help any way I can.”

  Andy nodded and put Jacob on the chair next to Devi.

  “Do you need help with the kids?” Leefe said to Howie’s wife, but she shook her head. Devi sat next to her brother, both of them talking between bites of food.

  Clary and her parents were walking to the serving table, and she motioned for Leefe to join them. Leefe’s heart bumped up, watching Clary speak to people. She looked fresh, and vibrant in light green jeans, a white, scalloped shirt, and that wonderful smile. Again, Leefe wondered what she’d do when Clary left. With a hard breath of determination, she joined them. She’d do what she always did. Survive.

  They filled their plates and sat together, and people drifted by with a few words to all of them. Clary and Maureen introduced Leefe to each person that stopped. She’d never talked to so many people in her life.

  Clary gave her hand a quick squeeze. “Eat what you can, and we’ll start all over later.” She shifted in her chair as another group approached. “There’s a lot of food.”

  Something in Clary’s voice made Leefe pay attention. Many of the people had something to say about the day care, and she heard “thank you” so often that she lost count. Finally, the crowd began to dwindle, and the only ones at their table were Piper, Clary’s mother, and Maureen. Howie and his wife stopped as they left, and Devi crawled into Leefe’s lap.

  “Did you get enough to eat?” Leefe said.

  Devi rubbed her stomach. “I eated…ate…a lot.” Her eyes were droopy, and she snuggled into Leefe.

  Maureen held out her arms. “Could I have her for a while?” she said to Leefe and took Devi into her arms. “Is it okay if I put her on the day bed and read to her?”

  “Of course,” Leefe said seeing the happiness on Maureen’s face.

  “I think we’re safe. Let’s try for the food again,” Clary said and reached for Leefe’s hand.

  “What was this all about? Andy said they were friends and neighbors, but they all talked about the day care,” Leefe said as they filled clean plates. “How do they know my name?”

  Clary’s light eyes reflected the torches. “I didn’t want to say anything before we came tonight. I was afraid you’d panic. These are the people that conceived of and supported the day care. They wanted to meet you and tell you what a good job you’ve done with their idea.”

  Leefe stopped with a big serving spoon in her hand. For a moment, she did panic and didn’t know what to say. “Do you mean the money they all contributed?”

  “That too,” Clary said, adding fragrant green beans with caramelized onions to her plate. “But it was the idea that was important. Once they got past the financial and legal issues, they took a risk. And then you came along and made their idea work.” She planted a kiss on Leefe’s forehead. “You’re their hero. Mine too,” Clary added and went back to the food.

  Leefe continued to fill her plate, remembering words, people, and their kind faces. A nameless emotion swept through her, and she swallowed hard.

  “Clary,” her mother called. “Will you bring one of those banana cream pies? And some plates?”

  “Sure, Mom,” Clary said. She rolled her eyes at Leefe, but grinned.

  Leefe spooned more potato salad onto her plate and turned, almost running into Jesse. “Sorry,” she said, and tried to move out of the way.

  Jesse didn’t move; she just blocked Leefe’s progress with her crutches. “Isn’t this nice?”

  “Yes it is,” Leefe said, trying to inch toward Clary’s table.

  “You deserve it, Leefe. You’ve done a good job.” She added a warm smile that Leefe had never seen before.

  “What’s up?” Clary said, suddenly beside them.

  Heart thumping, Leefe stepped away and almost fell into the seat beside Piper.

  Piper pointed a fork at Jesse and Clary. “I really appreciate what Clary’s done with Jesse.”

  “What do you mean?” Leefe said.

  “Jesse has settled down after the talk they had the other day. You know about that, don’t you?” She bent, rummaging in her bag, and laid a manila folder on the table.

  Leefe nodded. “You mean the one about Sharon? Clary told me.”

  Piper nodded and looked back at the two friends still talking. “It calmed Jesse down. I think she’s past whatever had her so upset.” Piper held up the manila envelope. “I need a favor. Would you look over the names and information on my students? I could use the help, believe me.” She pushed her hair back and went back to the pie. “Anything you can tell me will be used, and I’d be grateful. Also, could you stop into a class or two next week?”

  “I’m happy to help,” Leefe said, and meant it. She took another bite of the green beans and closed her eyes with delight. There was always such different and wonderful food around Clary and Maureen.

  She opened her eyes and met Clary’s mother’s gaze.

  “Do you like those beans?” she said with a smile so much like Clary’s that Leefe stopped eating just to enjoy the smile.

  “They’re delicious,” Leefe said and took another forkful.

  “It’s my mother’s recipe. Ask Clary to make it for you sometime.”

  “She made your creamed asparagus, and then the creamed pea’s recipe for us. They were out of this world,” Piper said.

  Clary came back to the table. “Mom, these beans are delicious.”

  *

  While Leefe got Devi settled in the hammock when they were home again, Clary laid a sealed envelope on the kitchen table and opened her laptop. She brought up her current contract from Iowa. Meeting Ephron Jackson, the chairman of the board of education in South Port, had been the very last thing on her mind tonight.

  In fact, she had come up the stairs behind Leefe, admiring her body, and looked right into his eyes. Face warm, she’d smiled, afraid he’d read her thoughts. Uncle Joe and her father had introduced them and led them to Aunt Mo’s office where they’d discussed an offer. They’d set up an appointment in two days.

  Leefe slid into the chair next to her and placed a manila envelope on the table. “Devi’s conked. I hadn’t even read for five minutes before she was asleep.” She reached into the refrigerator for a bottle of water. “What are you up to?”

  “Would you bring me some water too?” Clary said, scrolling down the screen.

  “Tonight was special.” Leefe returned with water.

  “Yes it was and I’m so glad they did that.” Clary reached up and ran her fingers through Leefe’s hair. “Nice cut, by the way. Have I remembered to tell you how gorgeous
your hair is?”

  “Yes, and same to you, but you didn’t answer my question. What’s going on?” Leefe tilted her head at the laptop.

  “That man in the suit at Maureen’s tonight?” Clary took a drink. “As I said, I think the Universe is speaking to us.”

  “Who was he?”

  “Ephron Jackson, the chairman of the board of education here, and a long-time friend of the family. He made an offer, something he and the superintendent cooked up, he said, but I think my family had something to do with this.” She lifted the envelope so Leefe would see. “I haven’t read it yet, but he skimmed the main ideas. We’ll meet, professionally, in two days.”

  “And this is…?” Leefe said, gesturing at the laptop.

  “My Iowa school contract. I want to look at the penalties. I’ve never even read them because I’ve never thought of using them.”

  “Let’s see. Open the envelope.” She grinned. “I have an envelope too, from Piper.”

  “Ha. The night of the envelopes.” Clary teased with her hand on Leefe’s cheek. “But first, there’s us.”

  “Is there something wrong with us?” Leefe took a couple of steps away.

  “Are you kidding? I’ve never found anything as right as you.” Clary saw a glance of fear in Leefe’s eyes.

  “I want to get out of these clothes first.”

  “Good idea,” Clary said. “I’ll finish reading this and then change.”

  Leefe went into the bathroom, and Clary took another drink, concentrating on the penalty section of her contract. Good. If she notified them by the end of this week, she was penalty-free. She picked up the envelope, tapping it on the table. She’d have to let Jean know too.

  Leaning back, she looked out at the lake and thought about that apprehension in Leefe’s eyes. They’d known each other less than two months, but she wasn’t going to quit. She went into the bathroom and waited until Leefe tugged on an old pair of sweat pants.

  “Baby,” she whispered, arms around her, and felt Leefe slowly relax.