by Beth Wiseman
Right at five o’clock, the door opened. Darlene was expecting Myrna, but it was Cara’s father. Cara stood up and walked toward him. Darlene stacked the papers in a pile, then also stood and moved toward the two of them. “I think we had a good day,” she said to Mr. Schroeder.
He nodded, then leaned down and kissed Cara on the forehead. “Did you have a good day, sweetie?”
Cara shook her head. “No.”
Darlene’s breath caught in her throat. She’d had no indication that things hadn’t gone well.
“It was a bad day.” Cara spoke quickly and turned to glare at Darlene. Then she pointed a finger at her.
Dave Schroeder scowled at Darlene. “Anything in particular she’s referring to?”
Darlene walked closer, glancing back and forth between Cara and her father. “No, I thought things went fine.” She locked eyes with Cara, but only for a second before Cara looked away. “Cara, you did a great job on your math problems, crossword puzzles, and the other work Ms. Myrna left for you today. I thought you did a fantastic job.” With the exception of the communication segment, Darlene really did think things had gone well. She smiled, hoping for a more positive reaction from Cara. Nothing. “I’m sorry, Mr. Schroeder. Maybe it’s going to take Cara some time to get to know me.”
“She doesn’t like change,” he said as he pushed a strand of auburn hair from Cara’s cheek.
Darlene wanted to remind him that if consistency was so important for Cara, then he should try harder not to run off her teachers, but instead she nodded. “Tomorrow’s a new day.”
“Tell Ms. Darlene bye, Cara.” Dave immediately moved her toward the door as if he didn’t expect his daughter to respond.
“Bye, Cara. See you tomorrow.”
Darlene was pacing beside the table in the middle of the room when Myrna walked in. “Well, how did it go?”
“I thought it went fine, but Cara told her father that she had a bad day, so I don’t think that went over very well.”
Myrna grinned. “Cara is a smart girl. Autistic, yes, but her thoughts are often more organized than you would think.”
Darlene tipped her head to one side. “What do you mean?”
“I mean this in the most loving, fondest of ways, Darlene, but if there were such a thing as selective autism, Cara would be the poster child for it. Just now, she told her father she had a bad day because she knows that Dad will take her for ice cream the minute they leave here. And that’s all right, I suppose, but our job here is to try to teach Cara the skills necessary for her to function the best she can. Giving in to her every whim doesn’t always help her.”
“But Mr. Schroeder seemed concerned that she’d had a bad day, and he didn’t seem to think she was making it up. You should have seen the look he gave me.” Darlene sighed. “I’m not sure he’s happy I’m here.”
“He’s just an unhappy man in general. I didn’t know him when his wife was alive, but I’ve been told that he was very different then. They ran a successful business together, and they were both completely dedicated to Cara.” Myrna paused, holding up a finger. “Dave is still very dedicated to Cara and has had a lot of success in real estate, but he’s . . . how should I say . . . just rather empty inside, I think.”
Darlene cringed at the thought of anything happening to Brad. She was going to add Dave and Cara to her prayer list. “I understand.”
“Don’t let him run you off, dear.” Myrna spoke firmly, then smiled. “Give it time. Like I said, I have a good feeling about you.”
“It’s only my second day. I know it will take some time.”
Fifteen minutes later, Darlene knocked on Layla’s door. The Versace dress was draped over her arm.
Layla opened the door in her usual attire—jeans, boots, and a work shirt. “Come in,” she said with more enthusiasm than she’d shown Darlene in the past. Darlene followed her inside.
“Thank you. Do you mind waiting while I try it on?” Layla asked as she took the dress.
Darlene did mind. She had a family to get home to, dinner to cook. “Sure, I’ll wait.”
Layla returned in the dress, and once again, it was such a transformation from farmworker to glamour girl. “I think it fits fine. Does it look okay in the back?” Layla turned around.
Darlene wished she could wear a dress the way Layla did. “Yeah, I think it looks great.”
“Be right back.”
Darlene tapped her foot, glanced at her watch. Layla returned, closing her bedroom door behind her. “Thank you for doing this. I could have taken it to Houston, I guess . . .”
“It’s fine. I’m just glad it fit.” Darlene smiled. “I better go.”
“Why are you dressed up?” Layla inched closer and eyed Darlene up and down. Layla had only seen Darlene in ragged jeans and T-shirts. Now she was sporting a pair of tan Capri pants and a pink and tan blouse.
Darlene glanced down. “Well, I don’t know if I’d call this dressed up.” She laughed. “But I guess it’s dressed up for me. I got a job.”
Layla frowned. “Oh. I see.”
“I’m working at The Evans School up the road.”
The hint of a smile tipped the corners of Layla’s mouth. “That’s a wonderful facility. What are you doing there?”
“I’m just a teacher’s aide, but they’re training me. I’ve never really worked, not outside the home. But my kids are older, and I wanted to do something to . . . maybe make a difference.”
Layla sat down on the couch and motioned for Darlene to do the same. Darlene glanced at her watch. She was torn between wanting to rush home to be with her kids and wanting to make a friend in this new town. And this was so out of character for Layla that Darlene couldn’t resist taking a few minutes to talk.
“Myrna runs a top-notch school there. I guess you know her granddaughter is autistic?” Layla folded her hands in her lap as she raised an eyebrow.
“Yes.”
“Did she tell you that we are trying to open up another wing in the school? We want to make it available to even more children, including lower-income families whose children would benefit from the school but who might not be able to afford the tuition.”
Darlene caught Layla’s use of the word we more than once, and she was surprised by the passion in Layla’s voice. “No, I didn’t know that.”
“Finding teachers in this area is always a problem. I’m glad you’re working there.”
“I hope I’ll be good at it.” After today, she had her doubts.
“You will be.”
Layla made the statement with such conviction, Darlene wanted to believe her.
“You should attend the gala with me. The proceeds benefit the school.”
Darlene put a hand to her chest. “Oh, I couldn’t.”
“Why?” Layla crossed her legs, frowning, as she kicked a bare foot into motion.
“I—I just . . .” She shrugged. If Layla was wearing a Versace gown, Darlene was sure she didn’t have anything in her closet to wear that was even comparable. “I don’t really have time to take on anything else.”
Layla stood up, almost stomped across the room, and returned with an envelope. “Here, I have an extra ticket, and it would be a shame for it to go to waste. Consider it payment for altering the dress.”
“I thought you didn’t even want to attend the gala.”
“I don’t. But I will. Because it’s for a good cause. And now I have a date.” She raised one thin eyebrow and grinned.
Darlene stood up. “Layla, I’ll be glad to donate to the cause, but I can’t attend the gala. I’ve already got a full plate, and—”
“It’s on a Saturday night. And if this is a what-to-wear issue, I have at least a hundred more dresses just like the one you altered that you can borrow.”
Versace? Darlene had never even tried one on.
“Of course, you’ll have to hem it.” Layla had transformed into a completely different person in the past few minutes, and even though Darlene had no clue w
hy, she welcomed the new and improved Layla. Maybe they would be friends after all.
“Okay,” she finally said as she looked at her watch again.
Brad walked in the door at six thirty, dumped his briefcase on the couch, and walked toward the kitchen, even though he didn’t smell dinner. Ansley was putting eggs in the refrigerator.
“Look, Dad. Four more.”
Brad smiled. “Ansley, that’s great. You do know that we’re going to need to start eating them, though, right?” His daughter sighed but nodded. “Where’s Mom?” he asked.
“She’s not home yet.”
Brad looked at his watch. “Where is she?”
“I dunno. Haven’t seen her.”
“Maybe she hit the grocery store on the way home. What about Chad and Grace?”
“I dunno where they are either.” Ansley closed the refrigerator.
Brad eyed the dishes in the sink. “You are all going to have to help more now that Mom is working. You start cleaning the kitchen.”
“But those are Chad’s dishes. Me and Grace put ours in the dishwasher.”
“Well, I’m telling you to get that sink cleaned before your mom gets home. I’ll get onto Chad when I find him.”
Ansley huffed a bit, but she opened the dishwasher—one of the first things they’d added to the old farmhouse when they moved in. “Chad is probably at Cindy’s, and Grace is probably in her room.”
Brad left the kitchen and headed upstairs. He knocked on Grace’s door. When there was no answer, he walked in. Thank goodness one of their children kept a clean room. Grace’s bed was perfectly made, no clothes strewn across the floor, and it didn’t have that strange odor that Chad’s and Ansley’s rooms had sometimes.
He bumped into Grace when he walked out of her room. “There you are. Is Chad here?”
“No. Maybe at Cindy’s.” Grace moved past him and into her room.
“How was your day?” Brad stuck his head over the threshold. Grace went through life with a peacefulness he wished he had more of.
“Great, Dad.”
“Okay, well, if you see Chad come home, tell him to stop leaving a sink full of dishes for everyone else to clean up. And tell him to go check the trough for the Longhorns and make sure they have water.” One of these days, Brad would get water piped out to the pasture, but for now, a really long water hose was doing the trick. “Have you heard from Mom?”
Grace shook her head as she sat down on her bed. She pulled a notebook out of her book bag. “No.”
“Hmm . . .” Brad went back downstairs. Odd that Darlene didn’t bother to call any of them to let them know where she was. It had been a long time since he’d made dinner, but if they were going to eat anytime soon, he figured he’d better start.
He was about fifteen minutes into making hot dogs and French fries when he heard the front door open and close. He finished chopping an onion, then walked into the den.
“I’m so sorry,” Darlene said as she met him in the middle of the room. “I took Layla’s dress to her, and then we actually started talking, and next thing I knew I’d been there awhile, and—”
“What’s that?” Brad pointed to a dress draped over Darlene’s arm.
“Oh. This is a dress Layla loaned me.” Darlene stepped up on her toes and grinned. “It’s Versace, Brad. You should see Layla’s closet. It’s filled with designer dresses. She invited me to be her guest at a gala benefiting The Evans School.” She held her breath for a moment. “It’s not this Saturday, but the next. That’s okay, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, that’s great. Why didn’t you call and let someone know you were going to be late, though?” He leaned down and kissed her. “I was getting worried.”
“I’m sorry. I left my cell phone in the car because I wasn’t expecting to be there longer than a minute, but Layla surprised me. Oh, and I invited her to Grace’s birthday dinner this weekend, so you’ll have a chance to meet her.”
“Wow. That’s a big turnaround from when you first met her.”
“I know. Today she was different, but in a good way.” She moved past him toward the stairs. “I’m going to go hang this up. Kids okay? And what’s that I smell?”
“Kids are fine, although I haven’t seen Chad. And hot dogs and fries.”
“Perfect! I’ll be back in a minute.”
Brad started back toward the kitchen, but turned around when he heard a knock at the door. Through the glass panes, he could see a young woman standing outside. She was dressed all in black.
“Is Grace here?” she asked when Brad opened the door.
He stepped back so she could enter. “Come in. She’s upstairs.” Brad held out his hand since he didn’t know this girl. “I’m Brad Henderson, Grace’s dad.”
The girl hesitantly latched onto his hand. “Hi.”
She didn’t look like anyone Brad pictured Grace would be friends with, not that he was judging her by her looks. She just didn’t fit the profile of the girls in the youth group or the couple of other girls who had stopped by since they’d moved here. “You can go on upstairs if you want. I’m finishing dinner.” Brad pointed toward the stairs. “Third door on the left.”
Brad watched her go upstairs in her black work boots, black jeans, and black shirt, sporting jet-black hair and enough dark makeup to scare any parent. He just shook his head and went back to the kitchen where he saw Chad coming in the back door.
“Was that Skylar Brown pulling up to the house?” Chad whispered.
“Actually, she didn’t say her name.” Brad opened the oven and checked the fries.
“Oh, it’s her. She drives that rusty brown Dodge. What’s she doing here?” Chad dropped his backpack onto a chair and headed for the refrigerator.
“She came to see Grace.”
Chad spun around. “What for?”
“Well, Chad, I really don’t know. I didn’t quiz her about it.” Brad pulled a can of hot dog chili from the cabinet.
“She’s a weirdo. See how she dresses, all gothic and everything.”
Brad opened the can and dumped the sauce into a pot, wondering what was taking Darlene so long. This was more chaos than he was used to. “You know better than to judge someone by the way they look or dress, Chad.”
His son sat down at the table with a glass of iced tea. “Oh, come on, Dad. You gotta admit, she doesn’t look like anyone Grace would hang out with.”
Brad thought for a few moments. “Grace can choose her own friends.”
“Whatever.” Chad stood up, picked up his backpack. “Girls like that are trouble. Just sayin’ . . .” He shrugged and left the room.
Brad wondered if Chad was referring to some of the girls he hung out with back home. He tried not to think about it as he stirred the chili.
“What are you doing here?” Grace held open her bedroom door so Skylar could come in, then quickly closed it behind the girl dressed in black.
Skylar pulled a piece of paper from a pocket on the front of her shirt, unfolded it, and handed it to Grace. “Since you skipped science class today, Mrs. Telgan paired us together for the science project. Here’s our assignment.”
Grace took the paper, glanced at it, and put her hands on her hips. “I didn’t skip class. I had permission from Mrs. Telgan to retake a math test for Mr. Zahn’s class.”
“Whatever. Everyone paired up, and I got left with you.” Skylar sighed.
Grace pressed her lips together. Not surprisingly, no one chose Skylar as a partner, but she didn’t have to sound so perturbed at being stuck with Grace. “So sorry you got left with me.”
Sklyar shrugged. “Whatever.”
Grace struggled with science and math, although she’d still managed to maintain a low A average so far. Skylar was a top student in all her classes. The local newspaper ran the list of honor students when report cards came out, and Skylar’s name had been at the top. Maybe because Skylar had no life or friends. Grace studied the assignment for a moment. “The effect of solar activity on radio
propagation.” She sighed. “Great.”
“That’s an easy one,” Skylar said as she moved across Grace’s room toward the pictures Grace kept on her dresser.
“Maybe for you,” Grace grumbled under her breath as she sat down on her bed.
Skylar picked up one of the framed family pictures. “Your mom’s pretty.”
“Yeah.” Grace was thinking about the science project. On the downside, she’d have to spend time with Skylar. On the upside, they’d most likely get the best grade in the class.
“You look like your mom.” Skylar set the picture down before she turned around to face Grace. “My mom died when I was two.”
Grace knew Skylar lived with her dad, but until now, she didn’t know if it was because of a divorce or something else. “How?”
Skylar sat down in the chair in front of Grace’s small white desk. “Breast cancer.”
“I’m sorry.” Grace couldn’t imagine a life without her mom.
“Yep, as my dad would say, the Lord called her home early.”
Most of the kids Grace knew rarely mentioned God. “I’m sorry,” Grace repeated.
“I’ll see her again someday.” Skylar stood up. “Guess I better go. I need to fix dinner for my dad.”
Grace stood up too. “Hey . . . why do you—?” She took a deep breath, wishing she hadn’t started to ask Skylar the question that popped into her brain whenever Skylar was around.
“What?” Skylar’s voice was matter-of-fact. “If you want to ask me something, just ask.”
“Why—why do you dress like that, all goth and everything?”
Skylar grinned. “To keep girls like you away from me.” Then she lunged at Grace. “Boo!”
Grace jumped, but then she laughed.
“Too easy,” Skylar said as she laughed too. Then she shook her head and walked out the door.
Grace sat down on the bed again and leaned back on her hands. Maybe getting paired with Skylar for the science project wouldn’t be as bad as she thought.