Texas Weddings (Books One and Two): A Class of Her Own & A Chorus of One

by Janice Thompson

  TEXAS WEDDINGS

  BOOKS ONE AND TWO

  A Class of Her Own

  &

  A Chorus of One

  By

  Janice Thompson

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to my mother, Shirley Moseley, an amazing woman of God who, like the heroine in this story, has endured many hardships and come through them all a victor in Christ. In my eyes she will always be in “A Class of Her Own.” I love you, Mom.

  Table of Contents

  A Class of Her Own

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Epilogue

  Check out A Chorus of One

  one

  Laura Chapman drew a deep breath and tried to work up the courage to speak her mind. “Jess,” she finally managed, “I need to tell you something.”

  Her daughter stopped clearing the dishes from the table and looked her way. “What is it, Mom?”

  “I. . .I’m going back to school.”

  “Back to school?” Jessica’s brow wrinkled. “You mean you’re teaching at the church’s preschool or something?” The nineteen-year-old went back to work, stacking plates and then carrying them to the sink. Laura followed behind her.

  “No, honey. I’m going back to college. To get my degree.” Laura had wanted to talk to her two kids about this for days. Time wouldn’t allow her to wait any longer. If she didn’t register by tomorrow, there would be no chance—at least not this semester.

  Jessica set the dishes down in the sink and turned around to face her. “School? Seriously?”

  “Mom’s too cool for school,” fifteen-year-old Kent said, entering the room with music blasting from the ear buds of his iPod.

  “It’s definitely not that.” Jessica glared at her younger brother then turned back to face her mom. “It’s just that you’re so, so—”

  “So what?” Her eyes met with her daughter’s for a showdown of wills.

  “Well, you’re so—” her daughter stammered, then fell silent.

  “Old?” Kent offered. He turned up his music, likely to deafen his mother’s response.

  “Thanks a lot.” Laura felt an odd mixture of emotions rise within her as both kids shrugged their response. I should have expected this. She tossed her wavy brown hair, a feeling of defiance taking hold. “You think I’m too old?”

  “I’m not saying you’re too old,” Jessica argued. “You haven’t been to school in, what’s it been—nineteen years?”

  “Twenty, but I’m sure I can handle it.” I could use a vote of confidence here, Jess. Please. You know how hard these last three years have been. Ever since your father’s death…

  “Mom, you just don’t understand.”

  “Then help me understand.” Laura looked into the deep green eyes of her eldest child, her beautiful Jessica—her jewel, her prize. The spitting image of her father, Jessica stood tall and slender, with sleek auburn hair and a light spray of freckles that danced across her cheeks. Her passionate interest in the arts seemed to grow daily, just as Greg’s had. She had inherited both his ear for fine music and an eye for the artistic. A fine pianist, Jess always seemed to excel at everything she put her hand to. The grand piano in the living room reminded Laura daily of Greg. He had given it to their precious daughter nearly seven years ago as down payment on her future in the field of music. Now it stood as a reminder that things didn’t always work out as planned.

  Thank goodness, Jessica reconciled herself to studying music at Lone Star Junior College, a far cry from the university education the anxious teen had craved. She endured it all with little argument—just one in a long list of necessary sacrifices.

  Greg would have made sure she received all she needed and more. Laura sighed as she reflected on her husband’s great love for their family. A smile instinctively crossed her lips. Just thinking about him could transport her back to better times. Romantic and funny, he had been the perfect mate. There had been a sensitive side to him as well, one that many men did not possess. What amazing memories Laura held of their years together. Their God-given love had run deep. Greg had truly loved her as Christ loved the church, and being his wife had been an honor.

  Lord, I miss him so much. No other man could come close to Greg. He’d given of himself day after day, working hard to provide for their family. He’d made himself available to the children and had been genuinely interested in their wants and needs. He’d planned so much for them, so much more than she could give them.

  Her daughter’s dancing green eyes proved to be a reminder of his spunk, his tenacity, and his undying love. Jessica was, in every way, Greg’s child. And yet, Laura had to admit, her eldest also bore a determination that trickled down from Laura herself—a stubbornness that could only be traced back to her own side of the family.

  “What don’t I understand?” Laura asked, coming back to life again. Surely her daughter could come up with nothing that she hadn’t already considered herself. She had argued the negatives and positives of this decision with herself for several nights as she twisted and turned in the sheets.

  “Things aren’t like they were when you were in school, Mom. They’ll eat you alive in college.” Jessica gave her a confident, knowing look, one that could not be ignored.

  Kent added his two cents’ worth. “Yeah, no kidding.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Laura’s oversensitive heart felt the betrayal, but she bore it with a stiff upper lip.

  “Anything I can do to help, Mom.” Kent shuffled from the room, music still blaring as loudly as ever.

  Jess shook her head, obviously unwilling to give up the fight. “Mom, you don’t get it. The students are really crude, the professors are even worse, and the workload is a killer.

  I barely made it last semester myself. You see how it is. I had homework every night last year—hours of it. How would you make it with your job?”

  “I can work part-time at the store in the afternoons and evenings, and take morning classes. Besides, if God is for me, and I’m convinced He is, who can be against me?”

  “I’m not trying to discourage you,” her daughter said with a shrug. “I just want you to be practical, that’s all. One of us has to be.”

  “I am very practical,” Laura argued. “I’ve got a solid plan, a good plan. It’s going to work. Besides, lots of people do this.”

  “Young people,” Jessica argued, lips tight. “Some of them don’t make it when they’re working and going to school. Remember Bridget Kester? She dropped out of college last spring because she couldn’t seem to pass any of her classes. She tried to work at the health club and go to school at the same time. College is tough. And she’s young. Bridget’s my age.”

  “I know how old she is, Jessica.” Laura fought to keep her temper in check. “But you’re not giving me much credit. It’s not like I haven’t been to school before.”

 
; “Twenty years ago.”

  Laura felt her zeal begin to wane. “What difference does it make, really? Besides, we’re only talking junior college here—not graduate school. I want to get my associate’s degree. That’s all. I’ve wanted it for years. I gave up college when you came along, so I never had the chance to—”

  “I know, Mom. You’ve told me a hundred times.” Jessica’s face twisted slightly, an indication she already carried the guilt of this situation.

  Oh, but it was worth every moment just to be with you. Don’t you realize that? Haven’t I told you enough?

  Laura carefully reworded her story. “Jessica, I went to college for one year before I married your father. The second—well, the second year was tough. When you’re a new bride, setting up house and caring for your husband feels like the most important thing. Marriage can be a little distracting when you’re in school.” She smiled, remembering those early days—how torn she had been between schoolwork and decorating their first little apartment. Greg had been so proud of her as she chose fabrics and stitched curtains herself. He lovingly helped her hang them, commenting on their beauty. They’d ended up in each other’s arms, curtains hanging lopsided from the rod above.

  No, there hadn’t been much time left for schoolwork. Not then, anyway.

  Laura composed herself, continuing on. “At the beginning of the next semester, I found out you were coming. I just couldn’t make myself go back. I never could.”

  But there were no regrets anymore, not about school anyway. Ever since the catalog had come in the mail three weeks ago, Laura had been making her plans, calculating, counting the cost. She would go back to college, and nothing would stop her.

  “It’s your decision, Mom,” Jessica said, a look of exasperation etched on her face.

  Laura shook her head in disbelief. “I love you, Jess. And I want the best for all of us.” She turned toward the bedroom, hoping a few minutes alone would put an end to her frustration. She headed to the vanity, where she sat gazing long and hard at her reflection. “I look as tired as I feel.” Her weariness would surely increase as she took on the added responsibility of school on top of a job and child rearing. I need Your strength, Lord.

  Though she fought to remain strong, her faith had weakened over the last three years. Still determined to remain close to Him, Laura found herself calling on the Lord more as the months crawled by. Her moments with Him brought genuine comfort. “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” The familiar Scripture ran through her mind. Laura contemplated the words then whispered, “Lord, why can’t I feel Your presence like I used to?”

  Everything felt different now that Greg was gone. He had been such a good spiritual leader—making sure everyone went to church on Sunday, teaching Sunday school, praying with the kids before bed. Lately, she couldn’t even seem to get out of bed on Sunday mornings. Her church attendance had wavered over the last few months. It seemed she found an excuse to stay home nearly every week now. Facing those happy, carefree people proved far too difficult.

  Laura ran a brush through her wavy hair, trying to style it in several different ways. No matter how long she messed with it, the stubborn stuff would only do the same old thing it always had. Her waves cooperated in one direction and only one. She tossed the brush down onto the vanity, ready to admit defeat.

  Laura sighed, gazing at the mirror. Who are you? she asked the face staring back at her. I don’t really know you anymore. Can you be more than a wife and mother? Can you be a student too? An uncomfortable silence lingered in the air.

  Reaching over to the bedside table, she picked up the catalog one last time before turning in for the night. In order to obtain the associate’s degree she craved, a serious workload lay before her. But, after all she had been through in the last year, it should be a piece of cake. She ran her fingers over the cover, her index finger tracing the letters “Lone Star College.”

  Laura caught a glimpse of her own smile in the mirror. Nothing to be ashamed of. I have a perfect right to smile. After all, this marks the beginning of a brand-new adventure for me.

  Professor Andrew Dougherty sat on the sofa, laptop in hand, scrolling to an American Revolution Web site with renewed zeal. The red, white, and blue background held his interest for a while, though his computer seemed to be dragging tonight. “Too many graphics.”

  A history buff, Andrew had much to glean from the Web. With only a few days before school began, he certainly didn’t have much time to put together a comprehensive list of applicable sites for his students. He rubbed at his eyes. The monitor had really done a number on his vision. The flag’s colors were all melting into one rather lackluster shade of gray.

  Andrew glanced at the clock on the computer—2:45 a.m. “No way.” Had he really been on-line that long? Where had the time gone? Too many nights he seemed to sit alone in this chair, wasting the hours. They always managed to slip by like minutes.

  Too much time on the Web, old man. Not that he was old, and not that he had much else to do with his time. Still a bachelor at forty-seven, Andrew found himself completely disinterested in things that had appealed to him in his younger years. The Internet had become a friend and companion, filling his evenings with unspoken words and genuine satisfaction. With so many history sites to see, social media pages to visit and E-mails to send out, he could easily waste a full evening.

  Andrew sighed, thinking about his upcoming classes at the college. He typed in the address to a familiar site. He had heard about it through a chat room he frequented—a computerized dating service. “$69.95,” the header read. “Money-back guarantee.” Andrew had, for some time, toyed with the idea of actually filling out the form and entering a credit card number. It was a game he played with himself quite often these days.

  But how would he put it? His mind began to wander. “Charming middle-aged man—” No. That wouldn’t work. Middle-aged would be a definite turnoff. “Charming, academic forty-something.” Nah. But what could he say? How could he possibly begin to describe himself? How did people do that?

  His fingers began to trip nimbly across the keys—his heart suddenly releasing him to be free with his thoughts. “Ready for love.”

  Had he really typed that? After fifteen years of dealing with a broken heart, the time for a change was rapidly approaching. His last relationship had left him wounded in a way that he never wanted to repeat.

  Smiling, he continued on. “Romeo is ready to meet his Juliet. Tall. . .” Hmmm. A bit of a stretch, perhaps, since he stood at five-nine. “Tanned.” He’d be sure to visit a tanning booth as soon as possible. “Blond, wavy hair.” “Sandy” would have been a better word, but who cared? And “unruly curls” might have been a more accurate description, but did it really matter? It wasn’t like he was actually going to send this thing off, anyway.

  Andrew stared at the screen, facing the next question with some scrutiny. Hobbies. They wanted to know what he did for fun. In all honesty, he sat at the computer and scrolled the World Wide Web for fun. But that didn’t really sound right. “Romantic walks on the beach,” he typed, smiling. South Texas beaches seemed tolerable enough, he supposed—as long as people weren’t crammed onto every square inch of them. Besides, that’s what ads like these were supposed to say. “Books.” That much was true. “And movies.” That one wasn’t far off either.

  There. All done. Andrew’s heart pounded in his ears. His palms grew sweatier with each keystroke. The undeniable had occurred. He had actually completed the form. A first. All he needed to do was pull out that credit card and—

  “Wait a minute!” he said, startled. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” He quickly closed out the site, then snapped the laptop shut with a vengeance. This time he had come too close for comfort.

  No need to worry about that. The peace and quiet would end soon enough. Within days, his hours would be filled with the usual hustle and bustle of college students entering and exiting his classroom. He felt his pulse slowing as his mind shi
fted to the thing he loved most. American history. A subject I can handle. No great risks there.

  There seemed to be a certain comfort to teaching history at Lone Star Junior College. So what if his classroom had a revolving door? Students enrolled, came, then left quickly. Lazy. So many of them just don’t know what it means to earn their grades. So he might be a little tough. There were far worse things a teacher could be accused of. No shame in admitting he made his students work hard. Most lived easy lives—too easy, to his way of thinking. His college professors had been plenty tough on him, preparing him for life. These students needed to be just as prepared. He would give them all a fresh dose of reality.

  ß

  Laura tossed and turned in the bed, trying to sleep. Her excitement wouldn’t allow it—at least, not yet. She made out the glowing yellow numbers on the clock: 2:34 a.m. Even if she managed to doze off, she would only get in five hours. I don’t want to run the risk of getting off to a bad start. Not on such an important day. Laura propped herself up on three pillows, thinking through her class schedule once again.

  Her thoughts held her captive, as they so often did these days. Laura had far too much on her mind to sleep. What would she say to Greg, if she had the chance to talk to him? She could see his smiling face in front of her, nodding as she explained her decision to return to school. His auburn hair shimmered in the afternoon sunlight as he listened intently, and his cheeks held the color of a healthy man.

  But she would never talk to Greg again. She would never know how he might have felt about this. As difficult as it might be, she had to begin making her own decisions and sticking with them.

  Laura listed the courses in her head again, just to be sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. Tomorrow would be a critical day, and she didn’t want to risk anything going wrong.

  two

  “Excuse me. I wonder if you could direct me to the admissions office.” Laura’s voice trembled with a mixture of nerves and excitement.