Wisdom Tree

by Mary Manners

  After their meeting, he’d walked her to her car while Corey sulked over the journal. The breeze was warm beneath a brilliant sun, and the lot was deserted except for his Jeep, her powder-blue sedan, and the van Patrick and Julie used to haul their brood.

  “Thanks for taking the time to come today.” Jake paused as they reached the car. He leaned against the bumper and turned his face to the sun. “I’m sorry Corey’s been so much trouble.”

  “It will be better now.” Carin’s voice soothed his worry. She smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind one ear as the breeze freed it from a silver clip.

  “I sure hope so.” Jake cleared his throat, trying to focus on Corey instead of the sandalwood scent that clung to Carin’s skin.

  “I know so. I have a sixth sense about these things.”

  Jake shifted his weight against the rear fender. “So, you’ve done this before?”

  “I…” She paused, bit her lower lip, and then seemed to shift gears. “What middle school teacher hasn’t?”

  “Hmm…” He thought for a moment. “Most of them?”

  She shrugged. “The ones I know go the extra mile.”

  “Well, I’m thankful for you. As you can guess, Corey needs something that, so far, I haven’t been able to give him.”

  “What happened to Corey?”

  “Not just Corey…us.” Jake lowered his voice. “My folks—our folks—died last January.”

  “I’m so sorry, Jake.” Her eyes flashed with shock, then narrowed. Jake caught a glimpse of tears as she dipped her head and turned slightly. “But that…explains things.”

  “We’re just trying to get our bearings. It’s taking longer than I expected.”

  He watched her swipe a tear from one eye with the tip of her finger.

  “Well, I’ll help as much as I can from my end.” Her voice was thick, the southern lilt more defined.

  “I appreciate it.” Jake jammed his hands into his pockets. “And I’m sorry about the…confusion.”

  “You mean the caretaker thing?” She shrugged slightly.

  “Yeah, that.”

  “No harm done.” She turned back to him and wiggled one foot, clad in a strappy sandal. “I still have all my toes.”

  Jake laughed and opened the car door for her. “I guess I’ll be seeing you?”

  “I’ll keep you posted…on Corey’s progress, I mean.” She slipped into the driver’s seat and reached for a tissue from a box on the console. “It was nice to meet you, Jake.”

  “I’m here every Sunday and plenty in between.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” She dabbed her eyes, then offered a slight smile as she slipped a key into the ignition. “See you soon.”

  A barking dog a few yards down drew Jake back. He sipped tea and pictured Carin sitting on her own back porch, grading papers with one of her infamous green pens, as she twirled a strand of sleek curls around a finger. Maybe between papers she paused to gaze up at the same starlit sky he admired.

  Does it look the same to her…like an ocean of wishes just beyond reach?

  Maybe he’d pay her a visit later this week…check up on Corey’s progress. Jake smiled at the thought and drained his glass. He leaned back in the chair, propped his hands behind his head, and sighed.

  5

  “So this is your battleground?” Jake leaned in the doorway to survey the seventh grade classroom. Oversized paperback dictionaries were stacked in neat piles along a bookshelf on the far wall, and workbook pages filled colorful file bins beneath a window that ushered in brilliant afternoon sun. Carin’s neat handwriting graced one side of the dry-erase board with a list of this week’s vocabulary words. The letters were printed with a flourish, and on the far side of the board, she’d outlined the steps to a well-constructed essay.

  “Hello, Jake.” Carin looked up from a desk covered in a sea of essays, and Jake’s breath caught at the way sunlight danced across her eyes, bringing out a deeper shade of emerald. Her hair hung loose today—soft curls kissed the nape of her neck and brushed across her forehead. She clutched a green pen in one hand. Jake laughed, and she scrunched her nose at him. “What’s so funny?”

  “I’m…um…just admiring your weapon of choice.”

  She followed his gaze and then laughed softly, too, as she loosened her grip on the pen. “I just bought a new pack, wore the last one out. The writing’s improving by leaps and bounds, though, so all my efforts with the students seem to be paying off.”

  “Does that include Corey?”

  “Well, so far he’s turned in his journal this week, and he retook that chapter test—made an A, I might add—so he’s on the right track. And he did a better job on the essay I assigned yesterday. Would you like to see?”

  “May I?”

  “Of course. It was a free-write activity, and each student got to choose his or her topic of choice.” She thumbed through the pile and handed a dog-eared sheet of notebook paper to Jake. “Corey wrote about you.”

  “He did?” Jake glanced at the title and frowned. “‘My Brother’s Most Annoying Habits.’ Wow, I’ll bet this was entertaining to read. Let’s see…‘Tells me not to drink out of the milk carton—who cares? Nobody else drinks out of it but me. Won’t let me go to the arcade on Friday nights—everyone goes to the arcade on Friday night. Makes me do my homework on Friday night instead of going to the arcade—do I really have to elaborate on this one?’” Jake grimaced. “I sound like a real dictator, don’t I?”

  “Just your typical walk through parenthood.”

  “But I’m not his parent. I’m just his brother. Sometimes I really miss just being his brother. It was a whole lot easier and definitely more fun.”

  “I’m sorry, Jake.”

  “But on the bright side, he only got, let’s see…” Jake smoothed his index finger across the paper, counting the green marks. “Four slashes and two comments. Not bad for a two-page essay.” He handed the paper back to Carin and eased over to a student desk. He pulled the chair back. “May I?”

  “I’m not sure you’ll fit, but give it a try.”

  “Funny thing”—Jake settled in, though his knees were seriously cramped in the minimal space beneath the desk—“but I don’t remember any of my teachers looking quite like…you.”

  “What, no green pens?” Carin waggled the tip at him.

  He laughed. “I mean…well…”

  “Cat got your tongue?”

  He grimaced, suddenly wondering what he was thinking here, stumbling around asking her for a date. After the debacle with Rachelle, he’d sworn off women, hadn’t he? Yet something drew him to Carin…something he couldn’t explain. He shifted his weight in the desk, bumped his knees against the wood and grimaced as a jolt of pain shot through him. “I’m with Corey. Those figures of speech…”

  “A little extra homework can help with that.”

  “Give me a minute here. I think I’m a bit oxygen deprived in…this…cramped…space.” He shifted again, freeing his legs. “That’s better.” He trained his gaze on her deep green eyes. “Now, what I’d really like is dinner with you—to say thank you for all you’re doing to help Corey, and, well…because I’d like to have dinner with you.”

  “Oh. In that case…”

  Jake plunged right in, no turning back now. “Do you like Chinese food?”

  “Yes. Very much.”

  “It’s short notice, but Corey’s over at Dillon’s working on a science project, and I know this little place just down the road…”

  “Oh, tonight?” The smile melted from Carin’s face. “I’d love to, Jake, but I already have plans.”

  “Should have figured that.” Jake felt an odd sense of disappointment. “Well, would you mind giving me your number so I can call you? My schedule’s kind of crazy, but I’m sure we can work something out…in this millennium.”

  “I…” She hesitated, then shook her head and laughed nervously. “I guess it would be OK.”

  “I’m not trying to force y
ou into anything. No pressure, OK?” Jake leaned back in the chair. “Tell you what. Why don’t you come out to the church on Saturday morning with Hailey and help with the playground improvements and the garden area? She’s getting a group together, and I’m at the top of the list.”

  “She mentioned that and asked me to help, too.”

  “So, what’s the verdict?”

  “I’ll think about it.” Carin shuffled the papers on her desk, and Jake wondered if she felt the same odd flutter in her belly that he did.

  She looked up at him. “Now, you should unfold yourself from that desk before you suffer permanent damage, and I really need to finish these essays before I leave. I don’t want to take work home tonight.”

  “I guess I’ll go, then.” Jake stood up, massaging a cramp from his right leg. He pushed the chair in. “Thanks again for helping Corey. I hope to see you again…soon.”

  ****

  “Was that Pastor Jake I saw leaving your classroom?” Hailey asked as she paused at Carin’s classroom doorway with her purse slung over one shoulder and a paper-filled tote in hand.

  “Yes. He stopped by to check on Corey.”

  “How’s that situation going?”

  “Better…so far.”

  Hailey leaned one hip against the doorjamb. “Did I hear him ask you to dinner?”

  “Were you eavesdropping?”

  “Me?” Her hazel eyes widened and she shook her head. “No. I just happened to be passing by when he mentioned something about you, him, and a Chinese restaurant. So, are you going to go?”

  “I told him I have plans.”

  “You—what plans?”

  “My usual Thursday evening plans…you know.” Carin checked her watch and gasped. “Oh, and I’m late. Gotta go.” She gathered the tote and her cotton sweater.

  “Carin, wait.” Hailey followed as Carin pushed past her to rush down the hall. “If Jake asks again, you should go to dinner with him. He’s a nice guy.”

  “He’s a pastor. If he knew what I’ve been through—the whole story—he wouldn’t have anything to do with me. Nothing at all.”

  “You have to quit thinking like that. It’s not true.”

  “It is true.”

  “Have you gotten any more calls from you-know-who?”

  The mention of Phillip caused Carin’s belly to tumble. “A few nights ago. But I can’t talk about it now. I don’t want to talk about it now. I’ll call you later.”

  “You’d better. And I want to chat with you about helping with that grounds-keeping project at church. It would be good for you to get out and meet some new people…people under the age of eighty, at least.”

  “Later, Hailey. I have to go. Lilly’s waiting for me. I promised her a special dinner tonight.”

  Carin practically flew to her car. She made a quick stop at the Chuck’s Fried Chicken drive-thru on her way to the senior center. The brown-brick building flanked by a flowing creek at the edge of town was becoming more familiar with each passing week. Leaves on the maple trees that lined a concrete walkway were beginning to change to subtle hues of yellow and orange laced with magenta. Double glass doors swished open and the odor inside swirled around her—a mixture of disinfectant and age mingled with food from the cafeteria.

  Carin had been visiting at the center for nearly three months, and she didn’t know who enjoyed the visits more—her or Lilly. She’d been hooked since she saw a news segment on the evening edition of Channel Ten News. The local nursing home was looking for volunteers to visit with their residents—kind of a reverse Big Brother/Big Sister program. So one day after school Carin went to inquire, and she was matched with Lilly. Now she visited for a few hours every Thursday evening.

  She knocked on the door of a room farthest down the first-floor hall, and then entered without waiting for a response. The scent of spearmint greeted her—Lilly grew the aromatic plant in a box on the sill of her large picture window that overlooked an expansive, serene pond—and she enjoyed chewing the leaves in lieu of gum.

  “Hello, Lilly.” Carin smiled at the slight woman with a shock of white hair pulled back into a neat chignon. She sat in a padded rocking chair beneath a tall floor lamp, reading a large-print paperback. “I brought you dinner.”

  “Hello, dear.” Lilly glanced up and set the book aside. “How was school today?”

  “An adventure, as usual.” Carin set the paper bag filled with Lilly’s favorite chicken on the small side table. “But I’m beginning to get the hang of the routine.”

  “That’s good. And that boy…the one who’s been giving you so much trouble?”

  “Corey.” Carin found a glass in the cabinet and poured Lilly sweet tea. “I talked to his brother, and he’s doing better.”

  “You spoke with his brother?” Lilly’s eyes narrowed behind wire-rimmed reading glasses. “But where are his parents?”

  “They died…in an accident. I don’t know the details.”

  “You should find out, dear.” Lilly took the glass Carin offered, drew a sip, and smacked her lips loudly. “It might help.”

  “Maybe I will. His brother is the pastor of East Ridge Church.”

  “Pastor…of a church, you said?”

  “Yes. I visited there last Sunday, and it was nice.” Carin gazed out the picture window, to the graceful fountain in the center of an ample pond. Water arced in a fine spray, casting a mist into the air. Weeping willows danced in the breeze, their fine, wispy branches like ballerinas swaying in unison to a silent symphony. Ripples of water shimmered beneath waning sunlight. Carin’s pulse eased as she drew a deep breath. Gazing at the pond always seemed to calm her.

  “Then you should go again this week, Carin. You should go back to church.”

  “I don’t know.” A cardinal swooped from a willow to rest on the ground peppered by leaves. The crimson color stood out like a splash of blood. “I…can’t, Lilly…not yet.”

  “Oh, don’t let that man…what he did was wrong, oh, so wrong—”

  I should have never told her. It was a mistake to burden her with the dirty secrets in my life. I’m supposed to be here for her, not the other way around. Yet Carin had needed someone to talk to, and Lilly was a good listener. The elderly woman had been a teacher for over thirty years, so their bond had been strong from the beginning. And somehow, Lilly had a way of drawing things from Carin that she was loathe to share with anyone else.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” Carin lifted a crocheted baby cap from the basket at Lilly’s feet. “This is a pretty shade of pink.” The cap was tiny—just the right size for a newborn’s delicate head. “How many caps did you crochet this week?”

  “I’m not sure. Would you count them for me?”

  “Of course.” As Carin counted, she separated the caps into stacks of baby blue and soft pink. “Nine, so far. How do you do it, Lilly?”

  “The good Lord guides me, and the exercise chases arthritis away.” She massaged the gnarled knuckles of her mottled hands. “I might be able to crank out a few more before the hospital volunteer stops by to pick them up in the morning.”

  “I’ll help, if you like,” Carin offered. “You can teach me the stitches after we eat. Do you think I can learn how to crochet, too?”

  “Of course you can learn.” Lilly smiled and patted a canvas bag full of colorful skeins. “We’ll go step by step and do it together.” She delved into the bag. “I think there’s another hook in here.”

  Lilly crocheted the caps for the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit at Children’s Hospital as a gift for each baby who was admitted following birth. She said a prayer over each cap as she tied the final stitch, and confided in Carin that she hoped each brought a special blessing to the infant who wore it.

  “Are you hungry, Lilly?” Carin took chicken and mashed potatoes with brown gravy, warm and steaming, from the to-go container and arranged a helping for each of them on plates she took from one of Lilly’s cabinets. “We should eat before the chicken gets cold.” />
  “Chicken?” The older woman’s eyes glazed over, and Carin’s heart sank at the faraway look that was becoming all too familiar. “OK, Elise. But we really should wait for your father. He’ll be home from work soon.”

  Carin’s heart lurched. This was the main reason Lilly and Carin had been matched. The counselors thought more conversation might keep her brain alert and stave off the effects of the Alzheimer’s, at least for a while. Sometimes it seemed to be working, but other times…

  “Lilly,” Carin busied her hands, removing foil cartons from the white to-go bag. “I’m not Elise. I’m Carin.”

  “Carin? Where’s your father, Elise? He should be home from work by now.”

  Carin patted the older woman’s shoulder. The counselor had said it was best not to reason with her, as that only agitated her further. “It’s OK…” Carin’s throat felt stuffed with cotton as tears burned her eyes. She forced her voice to steady. “How about we take a walk to the pond while we wait? The food will keep and we can take the yarn with us to crochet another cap. The babies need them.”

  ****

  Jake checked his watch as he slipped past the receptionist’s desk and down the hall of the senior center. Good thing Patrick’s distress call had come in as Jake neared the center, or he might not have had time to make the visit before he was due to pick up Corey from football practice.

  Pastor Julian, a resident at the senior center, was agitated again, and the only thing that seemed to calm him was a visit from Jake. When Pastor Julian lost his ability to walk following a fall that broke his hip, he was moved to a new room in a higher-level-care section of the center. The change had caused a turn for the worse. The doctors told Jake it was just a matter of time. The poor man’s body was simply worn out. Jake forced the thought from his mind.

  As Jake wound his way down the long hall to the last room on the left, he reflected on how they’d met during a youth event nearly two years ago, when he, Patrick, and Julie brought a group of kids to sing in the community room. Pastor Julian had been the first to arrive for the singing and the last to leave, and Jake had helped him back to his room, taking him by one arm while he leaned heavily on his cane with the other.