by Beth Wiseman
“Yes, Mae did. You’re the first person I’ve hired without a degree or experience.”
They were quiet for a few minutes. Darlene shifted her weight in the chair. “Why did you hire me?”
Myrna swallowed the last bite of her sandwich, dabbed her mouth, then locked eyes with Darlene. “Because you’re a mother of three teenagers. None of my other teachers have had children. Most have been right out of college, and I know that our small school is just a stepping-stone for them before they move on to bigger and better things.” Myrna stood up with her plate and headed for the trash can. She dumped her plate and napkin, then turned to face Darlene. “I just have a good feeling about you, Darlene.”
Darlene had been so excited this morning. Now she fought worry. “Tell me about Cara’s father. Why is he difficult? Is Cara’s mother the same way?”
Myrna leaned her back against the counter. “There is no mother. She was killed in a car accident when Cara was six years old. Dave has been raising Cara on his own.”
“Hmm . . .” Darlene stood up and put her dish on the counter. “That must be hard.”
Myrna washed her hands and waited for Darlene to do the same. She turned to face Darlene. “We all work with the children in a group in the mornings, then everyone splits off for one-on-one study in the afternoon. Two of the children only come to school in the mornings for group, so that leaves five in the afternoon, one for each of us.” She smiled. “I work with my granddaughter, Theresa, most days, but today Theresa will be with Beverly so that I can sit in with you and Cara.”
Darlene nodded as Myrna continued.
“There are a few things you should know about Cara before we go into the classroom. As I told you before, she’s high-functioning. She is capable of carrying on a conversation, but sometimes she chooses not to. Her own father says she goes days without speaking to him. Other times, she’s quite the chatterbox. And her attention span won’t allow her to stay on task for long. Our biggest challenge with Cara is keeping her focused. If you find something she likes, she tends to commit herself to it, even if only for a while. She loves crossword puzzles, but rarely finishes one. She seems to enjoy reading, but I don’t think she’s ever read a whole book.”
Darlene was wishing she had pen and paper handy. “Should I be taking notes?”
Myrna snapped her fingers. “Oh, and I almost forgot. Cara only eats white food, no other color.” She shook her head and smiled. “Poor Mae brought her a big bag of jelly beans one day, certain that the sweet candy would change her mind about only white foods.” Myrna chuckled. “Cara threw those jelly beans all over the room.”
Darlene smiled, charmed by this woman who didn’t speak about Cara with even a hint of irritation.
“Oh, and you’ll need to take off your jewelry. Cara is fixated with it. Not only will she not do anything at all in class if you wear jewelry, but she will want to take it home with her. It’s a type of perseveration.” Myrna lifted her hands, then pointed to her ears. “You’ll notice that none of us have any type of jewelry on.”
Darlene pointed to her wedding ring.
“Yes, even your wedding ring will have to be removed.”
Darlene couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken off her wedding ring. Maybe fifteen years? She wasn’t sure it would come off.
“I’m going to go to the ladies’ room, then I’ll meet you outside the last classroom on the left.” Myrna said it in a tone that sounded like they were going to a big concert or a special event.
Darlene nodded, then ran her hand under the faucet in the kitchen, hoping she could slide off her ring.
Every year Brad wondered how they were all going to survive another tax deadline, but at five thirty, Jeannie confirmed that all the returns were in the mail. He loosened his tie, leaned back in his chair, and took a deep breath. For the first time all day, he thought about Darlene and wondered how her first day on the job was going. He picked up the picture of the two of them that he kept on his desk. Their trip to San Antonio a few years ago. They’d stayed at the Hyatt on the Riverwalk, and Darlene was wearing a baseball cap, shorts, and a pink T-shirt as they stood on a footbridge overlooking the river. Brad smiled, wishing he could have bottled all the romance they’d crammed into those four glorious days. Brad’s parents had come in from Florida to watch the kids.
Now that tax season was over, maybe he could take a few days off and they’d go on another minivacation. They didn’t do that enough. For him, it didn’t really matter where, as long as they were together.
He shut off his computer and closed a few open files on his desk, stacking them in the corner. He anticipated that Cliff would be choosing a new partner soon, and Brad hoped and prayed it would be him. Whatever little bit of money Darlene made at her new job, it should be hers to spend on herself, or for extras. Providing for the family was Brad’s job. He’d always made a nice living, but his income as a partner would increase substantially. Brad would renovate the old farmhouse into Darlene’s own mansion on the hill.
“Jeannie, I’m going. Are you heading home?” Brad picked up his briefcase, turned off the light in his office, and eased toward his assistant’s desk.
“Yep. I’m right behind you. Dan is grilling steaks to celebrate the last day of tax season, and I can already taste ’em.”
“We got through it, didn’t we?” Brad smiled. “Enjoy your evening. Come in late in the morning if you want.” Jeannie had worked for him for many years, and Brad felt like she’d earned every dime they paid her. When he made partner, he was going to push for a nice raise for Jeannie too.
As he walked into the elevator and pushed the button for the lobby, he thought about something Darlene had mentioned several times since they’d moved to Round Top. This seemed like a good time to buy it for her. Now that tax season was over, he’d have time to do a little research and order her that special little something she’d been wanting. A celebration of her new job.
By five o’clock, Darlene was a bit anxious about how her own children were faring this first afternoon without her at home. And as good as it felt to be out in the working world, she was having a hard time with not being home when they ran through the door today. She reminded herself that they weren’t babies anymore, but she was still glad she didn’t have far to drive.
Cara was a lovely girl, and Myrna had spent all afternoon with Darlene and Cara. The first two hours, they worked on simple tasks that helped strengthen Cara’s ability to stay focused—reading short stories together, working simple math problems, and practicing hand-eye coordination exercises. From three to five o’clock, they’d focused on communication skills. Cara didn’t speak clearly, and she talked fast. Myrna had said it was like her speech couldn’t keep up with her thoughts, so when her mind resolved an issue, she just quit talking. Myrna also told her that some autistic children don’t like to be touched. Cara was one of those children, although, Myrna said, she showed affection toward her father.
When Cara didn’t want to listen anymore, she would hold up her hand and tap all four fingers to her thumb, a hand motion Darlene often made to Brad when she couldn’t get off the phone with someone. She’d had to stifle a grin the first time Cara made the motion to Myrna—while Myrna was explaining a math problem.
They’d taken lots of breaks, gone outside to play, and had a snack around three o’clock—angel food cake that Cara’s father had sent that morning. Expensive angel food cake. Darlene had noticed the price tag on the outside of the gourmet bakery’s box. Twenty-two dollars. It was a good cake, but Darlene would never have paid that much for it.
Darlene had trouble staying focused most of the afternoon too, since she’d spent the entire time either sitting on her hand or tucking her hand under her arm to hide her wedding ring. It was going to take more than a little warm water and soap to get her ring off tonight. She’d taken off her other jewelry, some small silver hoop earrings and a silver bracelet Brad had given her for her birthday last year.
“Ca
ra, I see your father pulling up outside.” Myrna peered through a window that faced the front of the building. “Let’s clean up our work area and go introduce Ms. Darlene to Dad.” Myrna began to stack some workbooks into a pile, but Cara just stared at Darlene. Then, for the first time all day, she addressed Darlene directly.
“Are you going to your house?”
Darlene nodded. “Yes.”
Cara stood up when Darlene and Myrna did. Darlene folded her hands behind her back, and she was almost eye to eye with this beautiful twelve-year-old. Cara was tall, taller than Ansley, who was the same age, and her auburn hair was cut in a cute bob that curled under, just slightly above her shoulders. Her sparkling green eyes peeked from beneath wispy bangs.
Myrna had already told Darlene that Cara’s mental capacity wouldn’t change much. Their job at the school was to help her with basic functions and behavioral tasks. Apparently, when Cara got angry or upset, she became physical—slapping, hitting, scratching, and even biting sometimes. Myrna said her outbursts were few and far between, but she warned Darlene just the same.
“Hey, baby girl.” A tall, dark-haired man wearing tan slacks and a yellow polo shirt made his way toward them. Cara walked quickly to him and folded her arms around his waist, then she pulled away and pointed to Darlene but didn’t speak.
Myrna took a step forward. “Darlene, this is Dave, Cara’s father.”
There was no mistaking where Cara got those amazing eyes. Dave looked to be about Darlene’s age, late thirties. His light brown hair was cut short, his face clean-shaven. As he approached them, his cologne was a couple of feet ahead of him, a pleasant smell, and surprisingly not overbearing. He extended his hand.
“I’m Dave Schroeder.” He didn’t smile, and the handshake was brief.
“Nice to meet you.” Darlene folded her hands in front of her. “I think we’ve had a really good day.”
Cara was instantly in front of Darlene, tugging on her wedding ring. Hard.
“Oh dear,” Myrna mumbled as she took a step toward Cara.
“No, honey, I’m afraid it’s stuck on my finger at the moment.” Darlene tried to ease her hand away. Cara pulled harder on Darlene’s ring until Darlene could feel the points from the small diamonds on her band digging into her finger. Any harder and the girl was going to draw blood. She tugged back, but Cara began to groan, yanking harder on the ring.
Dave put a firm hand on Cara’s arm. “Cara, no.” Then he narrowed his eyes at Myrna. “Didn’t anyone tell her about jewelry?” He cut his eyes toward Darlene, then refocused on getting Darlene’s hand free. “Cara, let go.”
It took several more forceful attempts before Darlene had her hand back. Dave didn’t say anything as he ushered Cara out to the car. Cara cried the whole way, looking back at Darlene several times.
“I’m so sorry,” Darlene said to Myrna after Cara and her father were out the door. “I was so careful all day long, and then . . .” She shook her head.
“These things will happen, dear.” Myrna raised her shoulders, then dropped them slowly. “But I’d probably try to get the ring off tonight if possible.” She grinned, but quickly her mouth curled under. “You are coming back, aren’t you?”
Darlene had never considered not coming back. “Of course.”
“Oh, good. We’ve run off a few teachers the first day.” Myrna pulled the curtains closed in the classroom, and Darlene helped Myrna push in the six chairs around the table. They were the only furniture in the large space. Darlene looked around, noting that the calming shade of baby blue on the walls matched her mood. The walls were also covered with drawings the children had done, giving the room a warm and fuzzy feel. Then she noticed a sign in the midst of all the artwork that she hadn’t noticed before.
And all thy children shall be taught of the Lord; and great shall be the peace of thy children. Isaiah 54:13.
It brought a smile to her face. At a time when schools were eliminating God from the classrooms, Darlene was glad to see that The Evans School didn’t fall into that category.
“I’m looking forward to working with Cara,” Darlene said, as much to herself as to Myrna. Maybe Darlene could make a difference, help Cara a little bit. Her own children didn’t seem to need her as much these days, except to prepare food and clean their clothes. And maybe Cara didn’t really need her either, but being here was a welcome change, and she was going to be the best teacher’s aide she could.
After Darlene left the building, she was glad she’d be home in only five minutes. Plenty of time to make dinner and throw a load of clothes in the washing machine. Later this evening she’d try to finish Layla’s dress. The alterations weren’t anything Darlene couldn’t handle, but fear of ruining such an expensive gown had caused her hands to tremble more than once. She’d be glad to get it back to Layla.
When she pulled into the driveway, she saw Ansley walking from the chicken coop with a smile stretched across her face.
“I bet I know what you’re smiling about,” Darlene said as she closed the car door.
“Yep! Look!” Ansley held out both hands. “Two eggs.”
“That’s great, sweetie.” She wrapped an arm around her daughter. “Guess I better cook something that needs eggs, huh?”
Ansley stopped and frowned. “We can’t eat these until after Dad sees them.”
Darlene stifled a grin as she nodded. “Okay. Besides, I think I’m going to make beef and cheddar casserole, and that doesn’t call for any eggs.”
“How was your first day of work?” Ansley walked in the front door and held it open for Darlene. “Are you going to be cranky at night now like Dad?”
“Dad isn’t cranky. He’s just . . . tired. Especially during tax season. And tax season ended today.”
Darlene tossed her purse on the couch and crossed the living room to enter the kitchen. “Where’re Chad and Grace?” She pulled a pound of hamburger from the freezer.
“Chad’s upstairs. Grace didn’t ride home with us.”
Darlene stopped pulling the wrapper from the meat. “What? Where is she?”
Ansley shrugged. “She said she’d walk home.”
Darlene looked at the clock on the wall. “School was over almost two hours ago. She didn’t say why she was staying late?”
“Nope.” Ansley added her two brown eggs to a store-bought carton with four eggs left in it. “Wish I would have had these to decorate at Easter a couple of weeks ago.”
“You kids haven’t wanted to decorate Easter eggs in years.” Darlene placed the hamburger meat on a plate and put it in the microwave to thaw.
“That’s before we grew our own eggs.”
Darlene smiled. “Grew our own?”
“You know what I mean.”
They were quiet for a few minutes. Darlene cut up an onion. Ansley poked her head in and out of the refrigerator until she finally settled on a piece of cheese.
“I hope Grace is okay.” Darlene paused, thought for a moment. “It’s almost five miles from the school to home. Maybe I should send Chad to go look for her.”
“Good luck with that.” Ansley giggled. “Since he’s got a girl upstairs.”
Darlene’s stomach roiled as she spun around. “What?”
“Cindy Weaver. He’s been trying to hook up with her since we moved here.”
Darlene didn’t wait for an explanation of “hook up,” but instead moved quickly to the stairs, taking them two at a time. She paused at Chad’s closed door and knocked.
“Yeah, come in.”
Darlene eased the door open, unsure what she’d been afraid of. She’d never had to tell the kids that members of the opposite sex weren’t allowed when she wasn’t home—she’d always been home. “Hey,” she said as relief washed over her. Chad and Cindy were sitting at opposite ends of Chad’s bed with books and papers laid out in between them.
“Hey, Mom. This is Cindy.” Chad didn’t look up from the book he had his head buried in.
“Hi, Mrs. Henderson.”
Cindy looked up and smiled, and Darlene silently blasted herself for suspecting that anything other than homework might be going on.
“Nice to meet you, Cindy.” She smiled before turning to Chad. “Do you know why Grace stayed after school?”
Chad still didn’t look up. “Nope. She just said she’d walk home later.”
Darlene folded her arms across her chest, thought for a moment. “Okay, well, if she’s not home by six, I want you to go look for her, okay?”
Chad sighed. “I guess.”
“It’s no problem, Mrs. Henderson. We can go look for Grace. I know where some of the girls hang out after school.”
What a nice girl. Darlene smiled again. “Thank you, Cindy. We’ll give it another thirty minutes or so. I can see you two are busy with homework.”
“Yes . . . we are,” Chad said as he finally looked up at her with a scowl.
“Again, nice to meet you, Cindy.” Darlene backed out of the room, hesitating for a moment before she closed the door. Cindy was polite, well groomed, and very pretty. She recalled some of the girls Chad had dated back in Houston and shook her head. She was pleased to see him dating a nice girl. Most of Chad’s friends back in Houston had avoided Darlene and Brad.
“Wow, that was close.” Cindy reached underneath Chad’s bed and pulled out her open can of beer. Then she leaned down again and pulled out his.
“Thanks,” he said as she handed it to him.
“Your mom seems nice.” Cindy took a big gulp from her beer.
Chad tapped his thumb against the can. “Yeah, she’s cool.” He took a sip. It didn’t taste so good anymore. It was hard to forget everything he’d gone through back in Houston. But Cindy Weaver was worth a few steps backward. He had no plans to fall in with the kind of kids he’d been running around with before. They’d snuck out of the house, partied until they threw up, and did things Chad never thought he’d do.
But all that was behind him. Cindy was a straight-A student, one of the most popular girls in school, and she didn’t dress all grungy like the kids he used to hang out with. She was pretty. Classy. And she wanted to spend time with him. He’d taken her home from school before, and she lived in a big house close to the square in Round Top. Her father was always working in the yard, and he waved when Chad dropped her off. Mom should be glad he was seeing someone like Cindy.