The Trouble with Joe

by Emilie Richards

  But he’d smiled when he said it. Then he’d gone off to help Miss Sam. She wondered if they were kissing again. If Mr. Joe and Miss Sam did a lot of kissing, it meant that Miss Sam wasn’t going to need her to stay around and all, ’cause Mr. Joe wasn’t going to leave.

  By the time the sun went down, most of the other kids were gone. Only Erin, Patrick and Shannon were still around. Miss Sam’s parents and Grandma Rose were gone, too. She’d wanted to like Miss Sam’s parents, but she hadn’t. Miss Sam’s father didn’t know how to smile, and her mother kind of looked like she smelled something bad all the time. Grandma Rose was different, though. She laughed a lot, and sitting on her lap just seemed like the right thing to do.

  “Hey, Corey, want to go down to the fort?”

  Next to Mary Nell, Corey liked Patrick the best of all the kids who had been at the party. He was seven, too, and he had red hair that stuck out all over his head, just like hers did sometimes. He was bigger than her, but he didn’t act like it mattered.

  She wanted to go. The grown-ups were just sitting inside the house now, talking and drinking coffee. The kids weren’t supposed to leave the yard. With the lake and all, Miss Sam got worried if they went off where nobody could see them.

  But Patrick didn’t want to go in the lake. He wanted to play in the fort—she let him call it that, instead of playhouse. Forts were fun, too.

  She looked around. Erin and Shannon were up on the porch, playing with Tinkerbelle. They weren’t old enough to go anywhere in the dark. But she and Patrick could find their way along the path. Maybe they could just go for a little while.

  Somebody came to the window and looked out. It was Miss Teddy. Corey stood where she could be seen, then as soon as Miss Teddy left she motioned to Patrick. In a minute they were running toward the fort.

  She stopped just before the entrance. “What do you want to do?”

  “Let’s go inside and see if there’s any ghosts.”

  “Ghosts?” She didn’t like that idea.

  “Yeah, Indian ghosts. Used to be Indians around here. My daddy said so.”

  Corey let Patrick go inside first. The fort was real dark now without sunshine coming through the windows. It didn’t look friendly. “Don’t like it here,” she said.

  “Ghost gonna get you.”

  “Ain’t no ghosts in here.”

  “Just can’t see ’em.”

  She didn’t want to believe him, but there was a sound outside now, like somebody moaning. Sometimes when her mama had left her alone at night she’d been afraid of ghosts, so she’d turned on all the lights. But there weren’t any lights in the fort.

  “I’m going back.”

  “Scaredy-cat,” Patrick said.

  He was right, and that made her doubly furious. “Am not!”

  “Want to see if there’s really ghosts?”

  She stopped in the doorway. “How?”

  “Light a fire.”

  “How’re we gonna do that?”

  “I’ll show you.” Patrick led the way outside to the stone ring that Mr. Joe and Mr. Johnny had built close to the water. There were coals glowing inside it, left from the wood Mr. Joe had used to cook with. And the metal grates were stored away now, so the coals were easy to reach. “We can take some of those inside the fort and build a fire. Then we can see everything.”

  Corey was doubtful. She didn’t even know how they were going to get the coals. But before she could tell him, Patrick went down to the water’s edge and came back with a metal pail that some of the kids had used to make castles with. Icky mud castles.

  “We can put ’em in here.” Patrick scooped the coals into the bucket with a stick. “Get some wood.”

  Corey was excited now. It would be their own campfire. Like they lived in the fort all the time, or something. Beside the stone ring she found branches and a small log that hadn’t been burned. Then she followed Patrick inside the fort. The wood was dry and the coals were still hot. There was wind blowing through the door and windows of the fort. Pretty soon the camp fire was burning.

  “See,” she said. “No ghosts. Told you.”

  Patrick looked disappointed. The light from the fire was so bright she could tell he wasn’t happy. “I’m going to get more wood. There’s ghosts here. I know it.”

  The night air was cool and the fire was warm. She was glad to be sitting beside it. When Patrick returned he threw a stick nearly as big as he was on the fire. The flames leaped higher.

  “Still ain’t no ghosts,” Corey said. She watched the flames climb nearly to the roof. Patrick knew how to make a real good fire.

  “I guess there’s not,” Patrick said.

  “Miss Sam’s gonna be wondering where we are.”

  “Yeah.” Patrick stood, and Corey stood with him. “Gotta put this out first before we go back.” The floor was covered with pine needles. He kicked pile after pile into the fire. The fire burned brighter and higher. He frowned. In the firelight Corey could see he was worried.

  “We could throw some water on it,” Corey said, remembering the pail.

  They ran out the door together to go down to the lake. At the water’s edge Corey swung the pail down deep, then turned. Smoke was pouring out of the fort now, through the windows and door. As she stared, the roof burst into flames. From the direction of the house she heard Miss Sam calling her name.

  * * *

  “AT LEAST NEITHER of them were hurt,” Sam said. “And it didn’t spread to the woods. We were lucky they didn’t start a forest fire.”

  “Why’d they do it?” Joe looked over the smoldering heap of ashes that had been the fort he’d built for the children he would never have.

  “Corey says they were looking for ghosts.”

  There had been ghosts in the fort, but none Corey could see. Joe jammed his hands into his pockets.

  “Patrick insists it was his idea,” Sam said. “He was very gallant.”

  “Well, he’s going to be very sore tomorrow. Johnny’s raising his kids like we were raised. Swat, forgive, forget.”

  “Joe, I’m sorry. You worked so hard, and the fort was wonderful. All the kids are going to miss it when they come over.”

  “She has to be punished.”

  Sam moved away. He could feel the space. “Why? She knows she did something wrong. And she was scared to death when the fire started. Isn’t that enough?”

  “She knew she was supposed to stay close to the house. She knew she wasn’t supposed to go down to the water without an adult. That’s been the rule since the first day she came to live with us.”

  “I think she’s been punished enough. Please. Let’s just let it go.”

  “Earlier you said you needed my level head where Corey’s concerned. Well, here it is. If she thinks she can get away with anything she does, she’ll just keep doing more and more.” Joe folded his arms. “You feel so sorry for her, Sam, you’re not thinking clearly.”

  “And you dislike having her here so much, you aren’t, either.”

  He was hurt. Then he was angry. “You’re letting her come between us.”

  “No. Corey isn’t coming between us. You are.”

  “You want her to stay with us, but you don’t want me to have any say in what she does or what we do about it? Are those the rules?”

  “I know her better than you do.”

  “She destroyed something that meant a lot to me. I have the right to be sure she understands that our rules have to be obeyed so she doesn’t destroy anything else.”

  “You’ll scare her to death.”

  He faced her. “You don’t even trust me to be fair?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “What’s happening to us?”

  Again, she didn’t or couldn’t answer.

 
He left her standing beside the ashes of his dreams. Inside, the house was silent. He took the steps upstairs to Corey’s room two at a time. He paused at her door, but decided not to knock. He pushed it open. Her head turned toward the door. In the glow of two night-lights he could see that her eyes were wide open.

  “You and I are going to talk,” he said.

  “Are you gonna hit me?”

  “No. I don’t hit little girls.”

  Her eyes glistened suspiciously. He told himself not to be swayed. “You really blew it tonight, Corey. You went down by the water without permission. You started a fire in the fort. You burned it down. Do you realize how serious all of that is?”

  “Mama said I was just born bad.”

  He moved a little closer. “Well, she was wrong. No one’s born bad. Sometimes people just do bad things.”

  “Well, I do ’em a lot.” She moved to the other side of the bed as he got closer, as if she didn’t believe that he wasn’t going to hit her.

  He stopped when he realized what she was doing. “I said I wasn’t going to hit you, and I mean it.”

  “You look mean at me all the time, like you wanna hit me.”

  “I don’t want to hit you.” He thought that one over and decided that wasn’t quite the truth, but close enough. “But you do make me angry. I built that fort, and now it’s gone. And you could have been hurt, or worse, just because you disobeyed us. We’re responsible for you. You have to do what we say.”

  “Miss Sam’s not mad. She says I didn’t mean it.”

  “You meant to go down to the water, didn’t you? And you meant to start a fire.”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Besides, it’s what we do, not what we mean, that’s important.” He felt impotent. It would be so much better to give Corey consequences, to let her work off her guilt. But Sam had decreed otherwise. Now all he could do was talk, and talk without action was nearly useless.

  “I’d like you to help me tomorrow after school. I’m going to have to start cleaning up that mess down there.”

  “I don’t wanna help you. I wanna stay up at the house with Miss Sam.”

  Joe turned and saw Sam standing in the doorway. He waited for her to support him, but she said nothing. He turned back to Corey. “Go to sleep now.”

  Sam started toward her. Joe put his hand on her arm. “Haven’t you already said good-night?”

  Sam’s eyes were wide and angry, but she didn’t protest. She turned and preceded him out the door.

  Chapter Eleven

  THERE WERE ONLY two words written on the card. I’m sorry.

  Joe put the tiny card back in its tiny envelope and examined the Boston fern that had come with it. The card hadn’t been signed; it hadn’t needed to be. The graceful, feminine penmanship had been acquired at a prestigious New Hampshire residential academy, along with the social savvy to send a gift along with an apology.

  “I really am,” said a familiar voice from the doorway.

  He looked up. “This wasn’t necessary.”

  “Maybe not, but it was fun. Besides, it’s always bothered me that you have this terrific eastern exposure and nothing to take advantage of it. I came prepared to hang.” Sam held up a hook and a drill. “Have hardware, will travel.”

  “How did you know I’d still be here?”

  “I know what the first day of school is like. In fact, this is a little earlier than I intended to get here. Are all your meetings finished?”

  “They’d better be, because I’m not staying another minute.”

  “Not even to drill a hole for the plant?”

  “Not a minute past that.”

  She smiled, and he smiled, too. She looked good enough to eat in a candy-cane-striped dress that she’d bought especially for this day. Her hair was loose, held back from her face with a narrow pink ribbon, and her shoes had low heels, to bring her closer to the twenty-five first graders who would be a large part of her world for the next nine months.

  “How’d it go?” she asked.

  “Chaos, pure and simple. I had people in here all day complaining, an even mix of teachers and kids. I thought about stowing them all in a locked room together and keeping them there until June.”

  “Well, that would solve some of your problems.”

  “But it might give me others when the school board found out about it.”

  “True.” Sam moved a little closer. “You look tired.”

  “So do you. How’d it go?”

  “Good. Three kids cried for a solid hour, another three cried on and off all day. One mother called twice and came by once, just to see how her little darling was doing.”

  “Problems separating.”

  “Just her. Her son looked relieved when she left him this morning. He whistled all day.”

  “Is it going to be a good year?”

  “Different from last, I think.”

  “How so?”

  She smiled sheepishly. “An easy class. No Corey.”

  “Except at home.”

  “At least there I can tackle her one to one.” She moved a little closer.

  Joe liked the way she edged toward him, the way she put the hook and drill on his desk to free her hands. Anticipation built. “Speaking of whom, where is she?”

  “At home with a babysitter.”

  “What?”

  “I got one of the Insley girls to come down and sit with her. I thought we could have a quiet dinner alone.”

  He realized that Sam had made this sacrifice for him. He had no doubts that she had been looking forward to sharing stories of Corey’s first day back at school—and probably had shared a fair number already. But instead of a family dinner, she had left Corey at home and sought him out. She was telling him that he was more important than her own needs, that patching up their fight was more important.

  She put her hand on his arm, slid it slowly to his shoulder. “Unless you don’t want to go out with me.”

  “I want to go out with you.” He moved a little closer until she was in his arms. She smelled like honeysuckle, like the last roses of summer. She felt like paradise with all its lavish sensory delights and tempting, forbidden fruit.

  “Actually, I want to take you home, straight up to our bed, and make love to you,” he said. He heard her breath catch. He smiled against her hair. “You, too, huh?”

  “Joe, it’s so good to hear you say that.”

  He gathered her closer. “I’ve forgotten to say it for a long, long time now.”

  “Maybe we could rent a motel room.”

  “Foxcove’s notoriously short on the kind that rent by the hour.”

  “Maybe we could improvise. Aren’t there beds in the clinic?”

  “I think we’ll just spend the evening in anticipation.” He lifted her face to his, taking his time to woo her gently with a long, slow kiss. Her lips were soft and vulnerable. He felt her doubts, her fears, and he cursed himself for his failings.

  When he finally pulled away her eyes were sparkling suspiciously. “It’s a new school year, Joe. A new start.”

  He stroked her hair. “Yeah. I think we should celebrate.”

  “Where?”

  “Somewhere that has fried chicken on the menu.”

  She cocked her head in question.

  “If I had to make a guess, I’d say chicken’s Corey’s favorite food, wouldn’t you?” he asked.

  “Corey?”

  “It’s her first day of school, too. We’re going home to get her. Then we’ll drive somewhere out of town, where nobody we know will have to watch her eat—”

  Sam laughed, low and throaty and suspiciously tear choked.

  “And we’ll feed her so much she falls asleep in the car on the way ho
me so we can say seductive—”

  “Provocative—”

  “Passionate—”

  “Erotic—”

  “Lustful things.” He dropped his hands. They weren’t quite steady.

  “Things like what we plan to do to each other tonight?”

  “A good start.”

  “You’re the best, Joe. You always will be.”

  “I won’t ask you what I’m best at.” He put his arm around her and started toward the door.

  “We forgot to hang the plant.”

  “Come back tomorrow and we’ll do this scene all over again.”

  She tucked her arm around his waist. “It turned out well enough to repeat, didn’t it?”

  * * *

  COREY BOUNCED ON Killer’s narrow back seat as they drove down the highway.

  “Tighten your seat belt,” Joe said, glancing over his shoulder. “If it’s loose enough so you can bounce, it’s loose enough to be dangerous.”

  Sam noted that Corey sat back and stopped bouncing, but that she did nothing about her belt. Sam reached around and pulled the strap tighter herself. “There. Now, that’s how it’s done.”

  “Can’t breathe!”

  “You’re talking, aren’t you?” Joe asked. “You must be breathing.”

  “You’d like it if I didn’t!”

  “Didn’t what? Breathe or talk?”

  “Miss Sam!”

  “I’d like it if you’d stop yelling,” Sam said. “And Mr. Joe’s right. It’s not too tight. You’re fine, and now you’re safe.”

  “My mama didn’t make me wear no belt!”

  Silence greeted that pronouncement. Sam looked at Joe and he shrugged. Neither of them had the heart to point out the obvious.

  “My mama didn’t make me do nothing,” Corey said.

  “Saint Verna,” Joe said under his breath.

  “Why don’t you tell Mr. Joe about your new teacher?” Sam said, hoping to turn the tide of Corey’s hostility.