She hurried down the stairs ahead of him, across the schoolyard to the truck and stood by the door tapping her foot. “Oh, I’ve got something to say, all right. We’re going straight home, and we’re going to read every word of her journal on that laptop.”
Even on their daughter’s behalf, Julie’s take-charge tone made him shudder inside as he closed her door and rounded the hood. And Rick wished he could just keep walking. Through the parking lot, down the street, anywhere his wife wasn’t.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Every protective instinct inside Julie was coming to life and flexing its muscles. She thought of the taunts she’d received at school for her name, her size, her weight. The awful experience in gym class when the older girls had marred her clothes. She could feel the Mama Bear within standing to her full height, ready to protect and defend.
“I don’t think Mr. Larl is telling us everything,” she said as Rick cranked the truck. “Don’t you think he’s hiding something?”
Rick pulled onto the street. “I think we’ll have to talk to Rachel to get the whole story.”
“Exactly.” Julie rested the file on her lap, opened it to read. “She didn’t say anything. She just suffered in silence.”
She thought again of her own tormenting classmates, and of her mother’s unsupportive responses the few times she’d complained.
“How long has she gone to school expecting to be a target?”
“Like I said, we’ll have to ask Rachel.”
“Did you know?”
He didn’t answer.
“Rick, did you know?”
“No.”
“Well, that’s something at least, unlike her failing English. You two are such a pair, I believe that if she wanted you to, you’d keep this from me, too.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means exactly what it means. And here I thought ...”
“Thought what?”
“Nothing. Just ... I can only handle one problem at a time.”
She scanned the journal. More than half of the pages were black-lined. “Look at this. I don’t trust that vice principal. You know Rachel’s computer password, don’t you?”
“I have an administrator password, and yes, she left her laptop at home today. I think Mrs. Tate is having them watch a video of a play. Why?”
“Because I want you to access her files so we can read them. That’s why.”
Rick sighed. “We’re definitely back to business as usual, aren’t we?”
They arrived home. Julie walked straight to Rachel’s room. She sat on her daughter’s twin bed and realized the furniture had been rearranged. One long side of the bed was now pushed against the longest wall. The desk sat with its finished back against the footboard, creating a little alcove in the corner. The entire wall was covered in photos, posters, and magazine articles, all concerning horses. Two huge stacks of horse magazines and a flashlight occupied the nightstand by the bed.
Julie pointed. “Do you think she’s read all of these?”
Rick sat at the desk, turned on Rachel’s laptop. “Read them? She’s memorized them. She knows more about diet and supplements than I do. Are you really going to make me do this?”
“Yes. It’s important. We can’t let this go.”
“This might take a minute. She’s got a lot of files in here.”
Julie closed her eyes. If Mr. Larl was withholding the full extent of Britney’s mistreatment of Rachel ...
She looked at Rick, who was obviously reading.
“Well?” She waited. “Did you find it yet?”
“Yeah.” He wiped a hand over his face. “I, uh, found it.”
She rose.
He read as she stepped to him, glanced at her, then turned the screen away from her and stood, raising both palms in surrender. “You’re not going to be happy after you read this.”
She leaned around him to see. “What? There’s more, isn’t there.”
Rick looked at the floor and shook his head. “I’ll go pick up the kids.”
She glanced at her watch. “You’ll be early.”
“Yeah. But I think it’s best if I leave now.” He walked out the door. In the silence, she heard him go back through the house and out to the garage.
“Well, for heaven’s sake. So much for follow-through and handling this together.”
She took his seat. Turned the screen, read the opening she’d already seen.
I’ve also been told that even though I have to turn this in at school, my mother will never see it. Otherwise, I wouldn’t do it.
Julie’s brow furrowed. What did that mean?
But at least when I’m at school I get away from my mother and all her demands and drama.
What? Why would she write that?
She read on.
I could cut my time at home by five, six hours a week, maybe more.
She read on.
I wonder what would upset my mother more, if I actually make the choir, or if I don’t?
She won’t care. The only singing she cares about is her own.
Julie scrolled up, and reread the last lines. Did Rachel resent Julie’s singing? But, Julie remembered singing to Rachel when she was little. Rachel had loved it.
The next entry started on a more positive note.
While cleaning my room tonight, I found a card my mother gave me last February. It says “My heart is happy because you’re near. Happy Valentine’s Day.”
Julie remembered buying the card. The front had a picture of a mother horse and her foal.
She never sounds happy when I’m near. She has endless complaints ...
Julie clutched her stomach and stopped reading. This couldn’t be true.
It. Could. Not. Be. True.
She thought of the file lying on the kitchen table. These were the parts Mr. Larl had black-lined. Julie returned to the beginning, studied the first paragraphs of the first entry.
Rachel had intended Julie to never see this. Ever.
Most of the printed journal was black-lined—
Most of the journal was about her.
Ill with dread, she scrolled through more entries. She read about the night Rick brought her home from the hospital. About Clyde Newman’s croaky voice, yet kind words. The comparison between Julie’s words and Britney’s taunts. And Sean telling Rachel “No drill sergeant has anything on Mom.”
She read to the end, and learned her daughter feared her voice returning, expecting the “old mom” to return with it.
Julie emailed the entire file to herself, then turned off the computer and ran to her room. She opened her Bible to James 3.
Old mom.
“The tongue is a fire ... full of deadly poison ... with it we bless our Lord and Father, and with it we curse people ...”
Deep inside she heard Laurie’s words from Sunday. “You think something’s wrong, or you know it, like, deep in your spirit?”
She read the Scriptures again, tears filling her eyes. Had she done to her daughter what her mother had done to her?
No. She loved Rachel. Her only daughter.
This was all a mistake. A misunderstanding between a busy mother and a hormonal, pubescent teenager. Wasn’t it? Rachel hardly seemed to listen to her.
The phone rang. Julie answered. “Hello.”
“This is Courtney at Dr. Lilly’s office. I’m calling to confirm Mrs. Matthews’ appointment for Monday morning.”
To check the nodules and her vocal cords if her voice hadn’t returned. “Actually, this is Julie Matthews. I’ve gotten my voice back.”
“Well, good for you. Dr. Lilly still recommends a follow-up. Will we see you Monday?”
“Can I re-schedule later if I need to?”
“Yes, you could, but you might have to wait a couple of weeks. Dr. Lilly’s schedule is very full.”
“I’ll be there.” The nodules must be gone, the damage healed, or her voice wouldn’t have returned, right? “And thank you.”
Finally the back door opened and closed. Rick’s boots clopped through the kitchen and down the hall. He walked into their bedroom and closed the door behind him.
“I sent Ben to the barn to start chores.”
“Good. We can have a good, long talk with Rachel.”
“No,” he said. “Rachel is going to stay with a friend tonight.”
“What? No way is she going to a friend’s house when we need to talk.”
“She already had your permission to spend tomorrow night with Amber. Amber’s mom said she’ll take Rachel to school tomorrow and pick her up.”
“You didn’t tell her we read the journal.”
“She’s upset enough about Mr. Larl talking to us about the bullying. She’s getting her things and I’m taking her to her friend’s. We can talk to her about this when she comes home Saturday morning.”
Julie stood and walked toward him. “You’re siding with her? Why am I not surprised? You always take her side.”
Rick blocked her exit. “It’s not about sides. It’s about me having a couple more nights before my family explodes.”
A knock sounded at the door. “Daddy? I’ll be in the truck. Bye, Mom.”
“I’ll be right there,” Rick spoke over his shoulder.
“Bye, Rachel. I love you!” Julie called, then lowered her voice. “This isn’t right. You and I should have a united front.”
“We haven’t had a united front since Ben was born.”
“What?”
Rick’s shoulders slumped as if a heavy burden had just been placed upon him. “I’ve got to turn in early. I’m up at four tomorrow to deliver a horse to Tuscaloosa. There and back is over eight hours of driving. I’m sorry. I just can’t do this tonight.”
He opened the door and walked away.
***
She didn’t want to think about it. But she couldn’t not think about it. What Rachel had written in her journals kept Julie awake until the alarm sounded for Rick. She dozed then, and after taking Ben to day camp returned home and went to her desk in the tack room.
She opened her email and re-read Rachel’s journal. Fury bubbled inside her at being accused, at being attacked and not given the opportunity to defend herself. Then the anger cooled, leaving behind a bitter ache. How could her baby girl have written those things about her? Rachel didn’t really feel that way about her, did she?
Ben was at day camp, Rachel was at Amber’s, and Rick was on the road. The morning should have been a lovely, quiet break, a time for her to input more data so she could hand the bookkeeping over to Rick, once and for all. Grateful for the use of both hands, she began updating and double-checking spreadsheets and balance sheets for Matthews Stables.
Then nausea rolled through her stomach, breaking her concentration. Her mind, hard as she tried to keep it on her work, kept darting back to her daughter’s journal. The words couldn’t possibly be true. Not all of them, anyway.
She dialed the first few numbers to Rick’s cell, but couldn’t bring herself to complete the call. She swiveled to the stereo behind her, turned on the radio. Stood and grabbed a bottled water from the small fridge, and noticed two boxes of straws sitting there on the counter, just waiting in case she needed them.
How could Rick be so thoughtful about some things, yet seemingly turn off his affection for her without even telling her why? Without even giving her a chance?
She turned the radio off. Turned it on again and searched for a different, non-country music station.
The CD’s. Julie opened the desk drawer and there they were, her favorites by Andrea Bocelli, Charlotte Church, Celine Dion, and Josh Groban. She reached back and switched to the CD player, inserted one of Celine’s albums, and quickly chose “The Prayer,” a duet with Andrea Bocelli.
As always, the orchestral intro was heavenly. Then came the first notes from Celine, the end of the verse, and Andrea’s Italian lyrics followed by Celine’s English.
Julie turned up the volume and let the notes soar to the rafters and loft. Without fail in the past, this song above all others had made her feel peaceful and calm. The blending of the voices. The build of the orchestra. The seamless beauty of the stringed instruments made Julie’s heart sing.
But today she couldn’t get past the lyrics. The humility of them. The yearning. The writer’s quiet petition for help, as a trusting child would ask, obviously expecting a kind, compassionate answer.
Julie buried her face in her hands, remembering times when the trusting part of her heart had been brutally crushed by her own mother. The most significant time, when she’d been seventeen and only two weeks into her senior year in high school. The art teacher and choir director, Mrs. Dardee, had pulled her aside after a choir rehearsal.
“Julie,” she’d said. “Can you come to my office?”
“Yes, Mrs. Dardee.” She followed from the high stage on one side of the gymnasium. They walked behind heavy, gold curtains and down creaky, wooden steps to the storage room Mrs. Dardee shared with the band teacher, Mr. Gage.
Ever the southern gentleman, Mr. Gage stood when they entered. “Ah, Mrs. Dardee, you brought our prodigy.” He motioned to a folding chair beside a row of four metal file cabinets. Julie sat.
“Did you tell her?” Although Mr. Gage looked at Julie, she knew he spoke to Mrs. Dardee. “Of course, you didn’t.” Behind his silver spectacles, Mr. Gage’s eyes smiled. He leaned back against his desk.
Mrs. Dardee shuffled over in her polyester pantsuit, a piece of paper in her hand.
“I can only stay a few minutes,” Julie said. “My mom will wonder why I’m not home on time.”
“Of course,” Mr. Gage said. “This is what we wanted to show you. We believe you can win.”
Mrs. Dardee handed her a flyer about a singing contest. Participants were required to sing an original song. The grand prize was a scholarship to the finest vocal institute in New York.
Despite her mother’s lack of encouragement, Julie spent the following weekend at Sharon’s, sitting at Rick’s mom’s piano and working on her song. The final version spoke of how she knew God saw her, heard her, watched her, and paid attention to every detail of her life. And how that knowledge gave a feeling of safety, of security, of peace.
Desperate for her mother’s support, for the first time Julie shared with her mother one of her songs, “When I Sing to You.” In my dreams I sing to you and watch you smile at me ...
“The tune is pretty, but I don’t think you’ll win with words like that,” her mother said. “I sure will be glad when you finish this God-seeking phase and face the real world. You’ll never be famous writing and singing songs like that.”
“I wasn’t trying to get famous,” Julie answered quietly then went to her room.
She’d known her lyrics were primitive and simple, but that was her on the page. She’d written her heart. Couldn’t most people relate to wanting to feel safe, wanted, and loved?
With fluid grace Celine and Andrea changed keys, the song built further, then they sang the last perfect notes. Without doubt, the song wouldn’t be nearly as beautiful with different words. Children and adults alike wanted to feel safe in their world, their lives. Did Rachel really not feel safe in hers?
“Did your taste in music change overnight, Rick? Where’s Johnny Cash?”
Julie looked up. Angelina Rousseau stepped into the open doorway, looking like she stepped off a magazine cover.
“Oh, Julie. Um, is Rick here?”
“How long have you been here?” She’d thought she was alone.
“I’m sorry,” Angelina answered. “Rick said I could come anytime, since Godiva’s so close to foaling.”
Julie stood. “Sure, sure. Rick’s on the road. He sold a horse to a breeder in
Tuscaloosa. He’s delivering it today.”
Angelina entered the tack room. “That’s right. Yesterday he said he’d be gone today.”
“Yesterday?” Had Rick talked to Angelina before or after the trip to see Mr. Larl at the school?
“Well, I did see him here yesterday morning, but he told me last night. I was here again when he brought in the horses just before sundown.”
Rick had indeed brought the horses in a little early, then set the alarm clock for 4 a.m., and gone to bed without speaking to Julie.
“You know, Rick is just the nicest man. In the middle of all the chaos your family has been through, with your accident and you in the hospital, then your mother visiting and your son graduating, he still took the time to help me and my horse.”
“I didn’t think you boarded here before my accident.”
“I didn’t. I showed up the Saturday you were in the hospital, and practically begged Rick to let me bring Godiva here. Had to bribe him with a check.” She smiled, showing perfect teeth. “Three months’ rent. That’s how I ended up here on the night of your son’s graduation. But Rick just moved Dutch and made room. He really is the nicest man.”
“My husband won’t be back until late tonight.”
Her husband. Who was out of town and not speaking to her right then, but was apparently very comfortable talking to Angelina. Julie knew she’d always been intimidated by beautiful women, but her current unease went beyond self-consciousness about her appearance. Considering the conflict between her and Rick, could this woman be a real threat to her marriage?
“He doesn’t leave his horses quickly, even when he knows they’re going to a good home. Ben and I will be doing the night feeding.” Julie took a breath. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
Angelina backed away, playing with the gold necklaces dangling at her throat. “No. I only wanted to tell him Dr. Bohannon said Godiva should deliver in the next two weeks.” Her eyes sparkled like buffed black onyx. “I’m so excited and nervous, like I was the one having a baby.”
Julie looked at the enormous diamond on Angelina’s left hand. “Do you and your husband have children?”
“No. We, Nicholas has a very demanding job.”
Sticks and Stones (The Barn Church Series) Page 16