by Tricia Goyer
“Did you go to church? I mean the same one we go to now?”
“Yes. I’d go to social events and Sunday night youth group. My parents only attended church on Sundays. They saw it as part of their weekend routine, and the rest of the week was for work, or in my case, for school and my studies. So that was my ‘rebellion,’ having fun during the week by hanging out with the religious crowd.” Charlotte glanced at her granddaughter. “Of course, something stuck, and I found a close relationship with God when I was mostly looking for fun.”
Emily nodded, but she didn’t comment. When they approached the school parking lot, Charlotte thought Emily would be eager to jump out, but as Charlotte stopped, Emily sat there for a minute.
“Did you have your own car?”
“Not my own, but my parents let me drive theirs. It was a white and coral ’55 Chevy Bel Air—which was basically a big boat with wheels. I got to drive it if I took my mother to work. She was a kindergarten teacher in the next town. My dad, of course, walked to work, but I can tell you it felt so cool driving that car to school. It would have been faster for me to walk, but it was worth it. In the early sixties not many kids had their own wheels.”
Emily sat there for a minute, looking at Charlotte as if she was trying to picture her grandmother her own age. Finally, Emily picked up her purse and two schoolbooks from the seat beside her. “Thanks for the ride.” Emily reached for the door handle. “And for the stories.”
Even as she climbed out of the car Emily seemed hesitant, and Charlotte knew she must really be worked up inside if she’d rather listen to her grandmother tell stories about her life fifty years ago than go hang out with her friends.
“Sure. I enjoyed it too. See you after school. Have a great day.” Charlotte watched as Emily sauntered into the school building with her school books pressed to her chest. She did want Emily to have a great day, but she also knew what Emily’s nervousness stemmed from.
Charlotte circled the block, waiting for the bell to ring. Last night she hadn’t been able to sleep well. At first she prayed for Emily to get a flower in that silly fundraiser. Then she considered asking Sam to buy one for his sister. Finally, she decided maybe she should just buy one for Emily and keep it anonymous. No one would have to know except her and the school secretary.
The bell rang and all the students disappeared inside. Charlotte parked the car and hurried inside, hoping that Emily’s homeroom class didn’t have a view of the front of the school.
Only a few kids walked the halls, and all of them seemed to be hurrying to their classes. Charlotte slipped inside the office, feeling nervous. Her stomach was as knotted as if she were robbing a bank.
“Hey, Margo.” Charlotte waved to the receptionist, who was also a neighbor to Bob’s sister Rosemary.
“Charlotte, good to see you.” Margo Needleman pulled a heart-shaped lollipop from a coffee mug on her desk. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
“Thanks.” Charlotte took the lollipop and stuck it into her pocket. “Actually, that’s why I’m here. I have a few questions about that flower fundraiser.”
Margo chuckled, her strawberry blonde hair bouncing with her laughs. “Let me guess: you don’t want Emily to come home today empty-handed. Or is it Sam? Boys, you know, sometimes make just as big a deal of it as the girls do.”
“You were right the first time. It’s Emily. Is it possible to buy a flower and not include the note?”
“You’re going to buy a flower for Emily? That’s so sweet! And, yes, you can buy the flower without the note, but if you’d like I can write the note for you.”
She leaned over the high counter, closer to Charlotte. “After all, half the fun for the kids is trying to figure out who wrote it.” Margo winked, her voice lowering to a whisper. “I’m becoming quite good at writing sloppy teen-boy handwriting, if I say so myself. Maybe it’s due to all these years of deciphering absence excuses supposedly written by their mothers. The smart ones get their girlfriends to write their excuses. But you aren’t here to hear me go on, are you?”
Margo opened her desk drawer and pulled out a slip of paper. “Just write what you want here, and I’ll do the rest.”
Charlotte wrote something brief. “Dear Emily, you are a great girl. I just wanted you to know. With care, Anonymous.”
She handed Margo the note with five dollars for the flower. Margo copied Charlotte’s message onto a small form, wrote out a receipt, and then hurriedly handed it to Charlotte. Charlotte heard footsteps behind her.
“Well, thank you for all your help today. Have a good weekend.” Charlotte’s voice was singsong as she prepared to leave. She turned to find Nicole Evans, the pastor’s daughter, there. Nicole gazed at Charlotte with curiosity, and then turned her attention back to the receptionist.
“Hey, Mrs. Needleman, Mr. M told me to come and get those notes from you to go with the flowers. We’re sorting them all during first period.”
“Notes, yes, of course.” Margo quickly tucked Charlotte’s note in the middle of the large stack. “They’re right here, Nicole.” She pulled a heart-shaped lollipop from the mug on her desk. “And Happy Valentine’s Day.”
Charlotte offered a small wave and then hurried out of the building, back out to the car. As she got inside, shivering in the cold, she tucked the receipt into her purse, hoping that Nicole hadn’t seen it. After all, even worse than not receiving a flower from a guy was receiving a pity-rose from your grandmother and having everyone at school find out about it.
As Charlotte picked up a few groceries at Herko’s, she wondered if it was okay to pray for things like flower fundraisers. And by the time she’d loaded the car and made it all the way home, she decided it was. After all, somewhere in the book of Matthew Jesus talked about God caring for the sparrows. Emily ate like a bird, it was true, but Charlotte knew in her heavenly Father’s eyes the young girl was far more important.
The mail was waiting on the table, and Charlotte put the groceries away and then glanced through the bills. The gas bill was up, as were the electric and phone, yet somehow by God’s grace they made it through.
Charlotte opened the Visa bill last, not expecting there to be anything on it. Bob always believed in purchasing everything with cash, and he’d rather buy the things he needed from his friends downtown than save money by purchasing from some unknown person on the Internet.
She stopped short when she opened the bill and noticed a charge she didn’t recognize. There was a set of initials followed by an Internet order number. Bob was out in the barn, and Pete was most likely with him. It was too cold to go out and ask them about a charge as small as thirty-nine dollars, so she put the bill with the rest and made a mental note to ask them about it when they were inside.
She threw a load of laundry into the washer and then a thought struck her. Pete had been ordering seeds. She could almost bet he’d ordered some online and had used her card to do so.
“Mystery solved,” Charlotte mumbled. “Now, mystery number two awaits. What special treat can I make for Bob that won’t make his sugar skyrocket?” It was a challenge, living with a man with diabetes, but Bob was worth it. Especially since this year he’d actually gotten her a card.
Yes, having the kids around was influencing every part of their lives.
Chapter Eleven
Emily tried not to look at the clock. She didn’t want to seem desperate over the fact that the next ten minutes could change her life.
Will there be a flower for me?
The cheerleaders, including Nicole, had worn their uniforms to school today. The skirts were hardly long enough to be considered decent, but it was too late for the administration to comment.
As was tradition, the flowers were given out right before lunchtime. From what Emily had heard, it was quite a big production, with the cheerleaders coming in and calling out names of recipients, forcing them to stride to the front to receive their prizes.
Emily glanced two rows over and noticed Ashley’s eyes meet
hers. Ashley wore a smile, a natural smile, and Emily wished she could be so calm.
Remembering they were supposed to be reading the end of chapter 25, Emily turned her attention back to the page. The chapter was about Thomas Jefferson’s role in westward expansion, but no matter how hard she tried to concentrate the words wouldn’t sink in. She read the same paragraph five times to no avail.
“Hey, Emily, can I borrow a pencil?” Hunter, a new kid at school, leaned across the aisle.
“Uh, sure.” Emily grabbed her backpack from under her desk and pulled it out. “It might need to be sharpened,” she said as she handed it over.
“Thanks. It’ll work.” Hunter smiled. “Appreciate it. Tried writing with my fingernail and that didn’t quite work.”
Emily was trying to think of something clever to say back when the door opened and three of the cheerleaders walked into the room with Nicole in the lead. Nicole tossed her hair over her shoulder with one hand as she carried a large bouquet of flowers in the other. Emily glanced toward Hunter again and noticed his eyes were fixed on Nicole. She would have been annoyed by that, except for the fact that her heartbeat quickened with the thought that one of those flowers could be for her.
Just chill, she told herself. It’s no big deal. Nicole let out a slow breath and came to a stop in the center of the room. Oh, the drama, Emily thought to herself.
“Christina …” Nicole glanced on her list. “Two flowers for you, with special notes.”
Christina strode to the front of the room.
“Ooo, two flowers,” a kid called from the back of the class. “Does that mean there will be a duel for your affection?”
Christina blushed, but only slightly, then she took the flowers and hurried back to her seat.
“Chad,” Nicole called out.
“Madison.”
“Dakota.”
“Aiden.”
One by one, her classmates went to the front. For some of them, it was obvious who their flowers were from. But for others it was a mystery.
“Ashley.”
Emily turned and glanced at her friend, who seemed genuinely surprised. Ashley hurried to the front, her face turning nearly as red as her hair.
“Now that’s what I call a carrottop,” Hunter said, chuckling to himself.
“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her face so red.” Emily sat up straighter in her seat. “Ashley, who is it from?”
Ashley glanced at the note and then she pressed it to her chest, smiling. “I’m never going to tell. Ever!”
Emily smiled and then turned her attention back to the front, noticing Nicole only had a few flowers left.
“Emily.” Nicole said, meeting her gaze. “You have a flower.”
Emily knew every eye was on her as she strode to the front. She tried to act as casually as possible. She took the flower from Nicole’s hand and then hurried back to the seat. She was halfway back when Nicole’s voice split the air.
“Oh, Emily, wait. You have two flowers. You better come back.”
Emily turned around and paused, sure Nicole was just trying to embarrass her. Still, her heartbeat quickened. Two.
Nicole held out the flower. “Seriously. I’m not joking. There’s another one. It came in last minute.”
Emily returned to the front.
“Another duel at sundown in the back parking lot.” Someone called from the back.
Nicole laughed as she handed Emily the rose. “No, no need for a duel.” She tilted her head and forced a smile. “Unless your grandma likes to do that sort of thing. It must be a little sad, really, to get a sympathy rose.”
The bell rang, and Emily hurried back to her seat just long enough to throw her book into her bag and head out the door.
“Hey, Emily, do you want your pencil back?” It was Hunter’s voice that called to her through the crowd of kids talking about their flowers.
“No, keep it,” she answered, hoping to hide the emotion in her voice.
Hot, angry heat filled Emily’s chest. Why did Nicole have to do stuff like that? It made no sense. Nicole was prettier and more popular—and she would always be. Yet time and time again she insisted on making Emily’s life miserable.
“Hey, wait up,” Ashley said.
Emily’s footsteps slowed just slightly.
“Wow, Emily. You got two flowers.”
“Yeah, if you count the one from my grandmother.” Emily spit out the last word.
“You don’t know that. Does the paper say that? Let me see.”
Emily pulled the notes closer to her chest. “No way. Do you think I want to embarrass myself any more?”
“Emily.” Ashley tugged on Emily’s arm harder. “Everyone knows how Nicole is. If anything, her comment made her look bad, not you. Now let me see.”
Emily paused, and with a sigh she reluctantly handed over the notes.
“To Emily. I hope this flower brightens your day cause your smile always makes mine happier. Anonymous.” Ashley handed it back. “Ah, very sweet!”
Then she read the second note. “Dear Emily, you are a great girl. I just wanted you to know. With care, Anonymous.” Ashley gave that one back too. “Wow, those are really nice.”
“The second one sounds like something my grandmother would say. What teenager says ‘with care’?”
Ashley chuckled, and somehow it made Emily laugh too. “Yeah, well, I know mine is from my mom. She used my middle name, and she’s the only one who does that.”
“Are you serious? No way.”
“Yes, way.” Ashley shrugged. “But I don’t mind. I know she was just trying to make me feel better.”
“Well, if I do find out this note is from my grandma, I’m going to kill her. I—”
“Emily?” It was Hunter’s voice that cut off Emily’s words. She turned and glanced up at him, hoping her face didn’t register surprise.
“Uh, yeah.”
“I was, uh, wondering if I could ride down to your farm sometime. It’s pretty close to mine, and well, my mom says I need to do a better job at making friends.”
Emily felt Ashley’s elbow on her rib. “Yeah, of course. That’d be fun.”
“Cool. Maybe sometime this weekend then?”
“Uh, yeah. Maybe so.” She nodded enthusiastically as Hunter strolled away.
“Ohmygosh! Did you see that? I think he likes you.”
Emily pressed her backpack to her chest. “No. I think he’s doing what he said—just trying to make friends.”
“Yeah, well, that doesn’t matter. Whatever he’s up to got someone totally jealous.” Ashley’s eyes were focused behind Emily. Emily turned and noticed Nicole’s gaze upon them. Then Emily turned back and hurried to her locker. Ashley walked beside her, matching her stride.
“Nicole could be totally making it up about my grandma—or it could be the truth.” She sniffed the flowers in her hand. “But I suppose it doesn’t really matter, right? I mean, what matters in the end is that I have two flowers—and personally, I don’t see Nicole walking around with even one.”
Chapter Twelve
Charlotte could hardly wait until the school bus rumbled down the road. When she saw it, she waited by the window and craned her neck, looking to see what Emily held in her hands.
She saw Emily exit from the bus with an extra hop in her step. Christopher hurried behind, pulling his stocking cap lower over his ears as he ran.
Charlotte saw a blur of red, and when Emily got closer she noticed she had not one rose but two.
“Two roses! Bob, do you see that? Emily has two roses.”
“Goodness gracious, woman,” he called from the living room, where he was reclining with a new western novel. “I think you’re more excited about that than the day I gave you that silver bracelet and asked you to be my girl.”
“Not quite,” Charlotte chuckled. “But close. And just think …” She placed her hands on her hips. “I was worried she wasn’t going to get one …”
At the same
time, Charlotte’s stomach knotted as she imagined her granddaughter getting involved with a boy. I can’t make up my mind, can I? Charlotte bit her lip.
Toby scratched at the door, wanting to be let out. Charlotte cracked the door open, and Toby darted toward the kids, barking with excitement as if seeing the kids was the best part of her day.
Emily opened the door and entered, beaming from ear to ear. Her cheeks were flushed, and Charlotte couldn’t tell if it was from the cold air outside or the excitement of the day. Probably both.
“Hey, Christopher, Emily. How was your day?”
“Not great.” Christopher shrugged. “One of the judges is sick and we won’t find out who won the science fair until next week.” He plunked his backpack onto one of the dining room chairs and swept Lightning into his arms.
“That’s disappointing. More waiting …” Charlotte ruffled Christopher’s hair, then she turned her attention to Emily.
“Look at those flowers! Wow, who are they from?” Charlotte asked, hoping that Nicole hadn’t let Charlotte’s little secret out of the bag.
Emily shrugged. “I have no idea. Neither card said.” Her smile fell, and she eyed Charlotte. “Do you know, Grandma?” Emily walked to the kitchen window sill and filled the bud vase with water. She put the flowers into the vase and then returned it to the sill.
“Know? Me? How would I know?”
Emily eyed her grandmother for a moment. “I’m not sure. How would you know?”
Charlotte felt the hairs on the back of her neck stick up, and she was sure she’d been found out. She’d never been good at keeping secrets. In fact, Denise used to say that Charlotte’s emotions were as easy to read as Bedford’s weekly newspaper.
Then, just as Charlotte was about to confess to Emily what she had done, Emily dropped her backpack on the table and hurried over to her grandfather. Emily leaned over and whispered something in Bob’s ear, and Bob nodded. Then, as Charlotte eyed them, wondering what they were up to, they glanced in her direction.
“No keeping secrets!” Charlotte called into the living room.