Reviving Jules

by Peggy Trotter

  Much to her dread, the child and her father came through the doorway, and the imp spotted her immediately and called her name. Loudly. Jules shrank in her seat. Andi ran to her, her little feet pounding a command for everyone’s attention, and left her dad on the main walkway. Rhett slowed, one hand in his pocket and the other carrying his Bible. He changed direction and sauntered up the steps to join Andi.

  “Oh, Jules, I never saw you here before.”

  Why did the child’s vocal chords rival the decibels of a jet airliner? A thousand eyes pinned her to the pew. Oh, how she wished she were chocolate. She’d melt into the carpet. No such luck. Rhett nodded in greeting and smiled. My, the man could display dress clothes to an optimum. Snug charcoal trousers, burgundy striped button-down shirt, rolled at the sleeves. Bless him, he needed a haircut and a shave. Or not. Yowza, fresh off a page of a premier men’s fashion magazine.

  “You’re just the woman I wanted to see.”

  That dimple. Not that she was looking. Seriously, what had possessed her to attend church today? And what a strange ambiguous thought. Jules schooled her features, but her face heated. Being a red-head had its disadvantages. Andi climbed under the pew in front and plopped in the padded seat beside her.

  “Can we sit here today, Daddy?” Andi cocked her head to the side with a very convincing pleading expression, complete with pouting lip.

  One of Rhett’s brows shot up, amusement crossing his beard-shadowed face. “My lady, you’ll be abandoning us in twenty minutes. I hardly think that counts as sitting beside Jules.” He smiled that dastardly crooked smile.

  Jules shifted her attention to the podium far below. My, the air boiled smothering hot in here.

  “I’ll miss Children’s Church.” She placed her hands together in a begging position, grinning all the while.

  He laughed and transferred his gaze to Jules. “She’s like a Mexican jumping bean.”

  “Please, Daddy, I’ll sit still.”

  Rhett shook his head slightly with a grin. “All right. Do you mind, Jules?”

  Uhhh…what to say? She swallowed over the lump in her throat. No doubt she’d be labeled as the newcomer who sat by the Carsens. The new woman. Ick. Really, did she have choice?

  “Sure…” It came out like a two syllable word. She forced a smile to her hot face. Gathering her things, she moved to the other side of Andi. Rhett settled in the aisle seat. So much for a quick get-away if she needed it. Now, she’d need to practically walk on his lap to get out. Or hurdle the pew in front of her. Not a good visual.

  Rhett slid his arm across the top of the bench behind his daughter and leaned toward her. “I have a favor to ask of you.”

  Those blue eyes caught hers. Okay. Exactly where was this going? Andi sat perfectly still, and Rhett seemed just too close. The heady fragrance of his cologne knocked her into a statue stare.

  “I need someone to watch Andi in the mornings for a couple of weeks.” He glanced away and swiped his hand down his chin. Was he embarrassed? His gaze returned to her, an apology lighting his eyes. “I hope I’m not offending you. I know it’s a lot to ask.”

  She took a deep breath and shook her head to clear her vision of bangs and focus her brain. It’d be nice to spend time with Andi, but that also put him around more. But, busyness is what she was all about. Her mind warred a few moments, until he spoke once more.

  “Hey, listen, it’s too much to ask. Just forget it.” He propped his other elbow on the pew arm and rubbed his hand down his chin again.

  “Of course I’ll do it. I love being around Andi.” Jeepers, that was a blurt. But it rang true. She enjoyed Andi’s childish enthusiasm. It made it hard to dwell on the negative.

  The kindergartener all but jumped in her lap. “I knew you would. I told Daddy.”

  She wound her little arms around Jules’ neck. Her chest tightened and her eyes moistened. She was needed. Rhett cleared his throat meaningfully, and Andi grinned at Jules before doing exactly what she’d promised. She flopped on the seat between them and froze, still grinning like a happy puppy. Jules couldn‘t help but wink and smile at the engaging child. Deliverance came when the music started and the conversation ended.

  The songs were a pleasant blend of contemporary and classic hymns, and Jules sang most of the songs by heart. Only one song was new to her. The pastor engaged them in an intellectual sermon with a few amusing stories to flesh out the Bible passage, and Jules found herself engrossed in the message, entitled, It’s never too late! And although Andi wriggled just a tad next to her, for the most part, the five-year-old did an excellent job of sitting in big church.

  The service ended and Rhett introduced her to several balcony-sitters. She shifted in self-consciousness, willing Rhett to exit the pew. Finally, he stepped to the aisle, and Jules exited and headed for the stairs. She told Andi goodbye and waved to Rhett, who talked to some people he knew. She clutched her purse and took the steps in a flutter.

  When she managed to get outside, she inhaled a deep, cleansing breath. She’d survived. A tear trickled from the corner of her eye. Memories of attending services with Hannah and her husband washed over her as she walked home. She’d so missed worship. Rhett and Andi had made it an easy transition. Being at church felt so right.

  Rhett stopped by with Andi later to set up the day for Jules’ babysitting job to start. He had to drive to Kentucky, and while his neighbor covered the afternoon pick-up, there was no one to stay with Andi during the early morning. Rhett would leave at four a.m. Jules assignment was to make her breakfast and take her to school by 8:15. That seemed relatively easy. Right?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Monday dawned bright at 5:02, and Jules set about her day to arrive early at library school which started at 9:30 and ended at 11:30. She was scheduled for the 11:10 to 11:30 slot. A challenging spot, Jules thought, as the children, ages eighteen months to four years old, would be getting tired and cranky. But they’d be ready for a little down time after the lesson, craft project, and the motor skills activity.

  Jules brought some props to keep the children’s attention—a straw hat to go along with the Old McDonald book, a leaf cut from green felt for the caterpillar to munch throughout that book, a train whistle for helping the engine up the hill, and a frog and cat puppet joined the ranks to be the stars of their books as well.

  Six steps semi-circled a lowered area where Jules would read. And except for the eighteen month old, who began wailing as soon as he and his mother entered the main room of the library, Jules had the children in the palm of her hand, using voices, dynamics, pauses, movement, and props to keep their attention on the book’s tale. Time went much quicker than expected, and she had to save the last volume for the following week.

  Everyone filtered out of the library, and Jules organized her stuff, already thinking about the books for the next gathering. The librarian approached and headed down the stairs toward her.

  “I’ve never seen anyone engage the children so well.” She laughed and laid a hand on her chest. “You have such a talent.”

  Jules smiled, feeling pleased. “Well, thank you. I love to read to children.”

  “I certainly can tell you’re a teacher. You’re so much better than the lady we had last year, and she was supposed to be a professional storyteller.” She held a paper up for Jules to see. “Let me show you the list, and you can choose for next week. We like to follow a theme.”

  The ache in Jules’ heart eased a tiny smidgen.

  * * *

  “When’s Jules coming?” Andi danced about.

  Rhett’s mouth quirked. How many times had she asked this past week? “You know when.”

  “Tomorrow, tomorrow. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Woo hoo.” The child clapped her hands and leaped around the kitchen. “I’m gonna tell Mrs. Steeler I gotta a new babysitter.”

  “I’ve already told her, Andi.”

  The child froze. “Huh? My teacher heard about Jules?”

  Rhett stirred the butter into the c
heese and milk before adding the macaroni. “The school has to be aware when anything changes.”

  Andi huffed, plopped upon a stool at the counter, and tucked her head into her arms. Then her head came up. “Bet she don’t know Jules’ has red hair. I’m gonna tell her. I gotta get my backpack ready.”

  The child jumped up and tore from the room, her feet thundering up the hall. Rhett pulled the corn from the microwave, wishing she’d just settle at the counter for her favorite dinner. Mac and cheese, corn, and chocolate milk. The dinner of an Olympian.

  “Andi, come and eat.” He sighed, realizing he was in for a wait.

  * * *

  Jules’ babysitting job forced her to set the alarm for 3:30 a.m. She’d planned to throw on some clothes, rake a comb through her hair, and hurry to the Carsen’s house. What did it matter how she appeared? She rarely wore make-up anyway. There was no reason to swank up to baby-sit a five-year-old. Especially in the middle of the night. The absolute middle of the night.

  Outside, it was dark and dank, and the street lights clearly indicated no normal person should yet be stirring. Jules shivered as she started the jeep. The motor droned on, incredibly loud at three-forty in the morning.

  Rhett let her in the door, fresh and ready to go. The aroma of coffee permeated the house. “Fresh java on the counter.”

  She held up the neon-colored soda. “Coffee is for old people.” She gave a little laugh. He was four years her junior.

  He stopped mid-hall and turned to her. “Old people, huh? Well, let me move my walker out of the hallway. I’ve already had two cups.”

  He grinned, and even in the dim light of the foyer, she caught the crooked slant and slash of white teeth. In the kitchen, he indicated a small pad of paper which contained basic information. Andi’s doctor, the hospital choice and how to get there, his cell phone number, the morning schedule, when to get her up, what time she had to be at school, and so forth. Andi’s insurance card lay close by.

  “She’s still asleep. I told her goodbye last night. My daughter’s not so good with the departure scene, so I’m not sure how she’ll react when she wakes up.”

  “Okay.” She took a sip of her drink, settled on the stool, and plopped her chin on her hand. A huge yawn worked its way across her face, and she covered it in the crook of her elbow.

  “Are you always this chipper first thing in the morning?” He smiled and leaned into the counter.

  “Humph. You realize the ungodly hour, right?”

  He chuckled, and Jules, despite feeling part sleepwalker, enjoyed the deep timbre of his laugh. After a few last minute instructions, he picked up a briefcase and headed for the back door leading to the garage. She tried not to notice how nice he looked in his business-casual khaki pants and button down shirt.

  “What’s in the bag?” He motioned toward the blue gift sack she still carried.

  She swallowed. Oops. Kinda forgot that. She’d grabbed his birthday present this morning, even though she’d originally planned to take it back.

  “It’s uh…your birthday gift.”

  He grinned and tilted his head.

  She shrugged. “I forgot to bring it the other day.”

  He set the briefcase down and opened the bag. Jules wanted to melt through the tile.

  “Hey, this is great. Some of this stuff is on my list to pick up. Thanks.”

  Her eyes darted from him to the floor. He reached for his briefcase and the gift bag before heading for the exit. For some insane reason she followed him, with her arms crossed, and held the door open after he’d passed through.

  “Feel free to use the car to take Andi to school. The keys are hanging by the back door.” He indicated the SUV then strode around the truck.

  She watched him get in his truck and start the vehicle. He lifted a hand, and she waved in return as he backed through the open garage door into the darkness. Why was she standing here, like some…wife? Ick. She quickly pulled inside and secured the lock. She wasn’t gonna let her mind go in that direction.

  Jules wandered into the living room, settled on the brown suede couch, and yawned. She grabbed a soft burgundy throw and snuggled into it. It was still three hours before Andi needed to be awake. She pulled her alarm clock from her purse and wound it. After setting it for seven o’clock, she laid her head in the crook of her arm, resting on the puffy arm cushion, and curled her feet beneath her.

  It proved difficult to get comfy in another person’s house. She peered at the TV’s blank screen. Funny how she hardly missed watching television. But then, she’d always been happiest with her nose planted in a book. She yawned again and smiled.

  Rhett had liked his gift.

  The next thing Jules knew, bells were going off. She sat up in a fluster, unsure of her surroundings and why an alarm rang. Quickly quieting the offending clock, she swung her legs to the floor. It was seven o’clock. Jules double took the small glow-in-the dark digits. Seven o’clock? Moments ticked by as the implication sank in. It wasn’t 5:02.

  She stood, snatched the clock, and held it close to her sleep-clouded eyes. Miracle of miracles, she’d broken the 5:02 curse. She smiled drowsily.

  With no time to ponder the significance of such a feat, she lumbered down the hallway and tapped on Andi’s bedroom door. It took a few times to get a response and then only a groan. Jules turned the handle and eased her head into the darkened room.

  “Andi? It’s Jules. Are you awake yet?”

  Another groan. “Jules? Is that you?”

  “Yes, sweetheart. It’s time to get up.” Jules smiled to herself. Andi seemed as reluctant as she often did in the morning.

  “Scratch my back,” came a sleepy answer, muffled by a pillow.

  “What?”

  “Daddy always scratches me before I get up.”

  Jules opened the door and walked to the canopied bed. “He does what?”

  Andi turned her sleep-softened face toward Jules. Hair spider-webbed the child’s face in the weak sunlight. “Please, Jules, it wakes me up.”

  “Okay.” Jules shrugged. “How do I do that?”

  “Sit here,” Andi patted the side of the bed. “And rub my back with your nails. I like it to be tickly.”

  Jules sat on the edge of the bed, and Andi promptly wedged over to her. Jules ran her fingers up and down the child’s back in slow, gentle strokes.

  “Is this right?”

  “Uh-huh.” Her voice faded into sleepiness.

  “Andi, you’re not going to sleep again, are you?”

  “Uh-uh.”

  Jules rubbed for a few moments, and Andi remained completely still. Finally, Jules gave one last rub before patting her back a couple of times.

  “All right, my dear, it’s time to get out of that fancy little princess bed, because princesses must to go to school.” Jules eased the thick hair from the child’s face.

  She flipped over, cuddling her bear. “Can’t I stay home with you?”

  Jules groaned and rolled her eyes. “No. That would be nice, but we both have lots to do. How about you get up, put on your uniform, and I cook kitty-cat pancakes?”

  Andi shot up straight in bed. “Can you really do that?”

  “Sure. I might be out of practice, so they could come out looking more like dogs, but either way, they’ll be pancakes.”

  “Are they made out of kitty-cats? ’Cause if they are, that’s gwoss.”

  Jules laughed and started tickling Andi.

  “Of course they’re not real kitty-cats, you silly girl.”

  Andi giggled and Jules stood up.

  “Let’s see who’s fastest.” Jules skipped to the door and paused. “I think I can beat you.”

  With such a challenge before her, Andi dressed and arrived in the kitchen before Jules even had the batter mixed up. The child pulled up a stool to watch and chatter as Jules carefully made circles of batter and added little triangle ears. After she flipped the pancake and it cooked on the topside, she drizzled on eyes and a triangle f
or a nose and turned it again. The new batter’s lighter shade contrasted with the original, making a shape of a kitty face. Well, kind of. Anyway, it thrilled Andi who squealed with delight at the cat on her plate and promptly asked for a princess one.

  “I can’t show you all my skills on the first day,” Jules admonished with a grin, planting her fingertip on the child’s pug nose. “We’ll save that for another day.”

  By seven forty-five, with breakfast finished and backpack on Andi, they walked out the front door to Jules’ jeep. Andi was nearly beside herself when she realized they’d ride in the jeep. After buckling her seat belt over her booster seat, the child pointed the way, even though the place was located in the back wing of the very church Jules had attended.

  As they approached the school, traffic backed up. Everyone had to turn left down the side alley, swing to the right by the door, drop off the children and continue on through the church parking lot. Then parents were required to exit west on the same street. The whole process was unfamiliar, but little Andi kept assuring her it was correct.

  It took several minutes to get to the door, but finally Andi gave her a big grin and a hug before bolting from the jeep. Jules watched her enter the school before moving forward and out. Since it was Monday, Jules now had to get ready for library school.

  The rest of the week passed pretty much in the same order. A short chat with Rhett. Breakfast. Drop Andi off at school. Work. Since Jules failed to attend church on Sunday, she didn’t see the Carsens on Saturday or Sunday.

  Jules was back at Rhett’s on Monday, waved him off to work, and dropped Andi at school. Library school went smoothly later that morning. But it was obvious by the time Jules stepped into the yard that she needed to mow her grass.

  After a quick change into work clothes, she stood in front of her small garage shed. But the lift door seemed particularly stubborn. Usually, it slid right up after a bit of a wrestling match, but today it only opened halfway. It wouldn’t go all the way up or down. Oh, bother. She jerked and pulled and wrangled, but it was truly stuck.