High Hurdles Collection Two (47 page)

Wednesday DJ woke with butterflies as bad as, if not worse than, on a show day. She and Amy had to present their business to Mr. Mann's class. And John Yamamoto was in that class. DJ ranked speaking before a bunch of kids right up there with algebra finals. Maybe she should crawl back under the covers and claim stomach flu. Her midsection felt about that bad.

“Why the long face?” Robert asked when she made it to the kitchen.

“Hi, DJ, we's going to Grandma's again. She says we paint good.”

DJ looked over at the door of the refrigerator that was nearly hidden behind their paintings. “Looks good to me, too. Wish I could come.” The thought sent her spiraling back through the years. Gran had taught her painting, too, and look where it had gotten her. “Gran's a great teacher. You two have fun.” She patted their heads as she set her cereal bowl down on the table.

She looked up at Robert. “Amy and I are talking to the business class today.”

“Uh-oh. Public speaking, the bane of human existence.” He waved a pancake turner in the air. “You want some bacon?”

DJ shook her head. “Thanks, but I don't think so.”

“Funny, that's what your mother said. She's hiding under the covers.

Guess we give up bacon around here for a while.” He bit into a crispy slice. “Boys, here comes the bacon.”

“I've got good news for everyone,” Robert added. “Maria is well enough to come back to work.” Maria Ramos had been the boys' nanny since their mother died. The young woman had been so sick from pneumonia that she'd been recuperating at her sister's house since the winter.

“Oh.”
That means Mom will go back to work
. DJ chewed her granola and thought about that. Things sure had been nicer around here with Mom home. But Maria would do the cooking and cleaning and watch the boys until someone else came home.

“Yay, Maria's coming back.” The Double Bs bounced in their chairs.

“Maria bakes good cookies.” Bobby—or was it Billy—told her. If only they would make sure they sat in the same chair all the time or wore a Band-Aid, which wasn't unusual.

“Mom does, too.” DJ tried to remember when her mother had baked cookies. Surely she could bake good cookies.

Getting up from the table, DJ set her bowl and spoon in the sink, then drained her glass of orange juice. “Bye, guys, have fun at school.”

Queenie dogged her back upstairs, then down again to sit at the door, tail sweeping the floor. DJ bent over to pat her and got a lightning face washing in return. “Bye, dog. You be good, too. Why don't you go up and see if you can help Mom feel better.” Queenie wagged her tail again and put one paw up on DJ's knee.

The horn honking reminded DJ to sling her pack on her back and use both hands to pick up the box of business things she'd collected. Since the move into the new house, she and Amy kept the extra card packets in DJ's closet.

“The anticipation is always worse than the doing,” Robert called as he heard her open the door.

“Thanks for the advice … sorta,” she called back and headed for the car.

DJ and Amy hustled their things into Mr. Mann's classroom between classes, which sent the butterflies trying new feats of fluttering. “You do all the talking, and I'll cheer you on,” DJ whispered. “Get real.” They took seats at the back of the room. “Today we have two guests,” Mr. Mann said to his class as soon as they'd settled down. “Amy Yamamoto and DJ Randall have begun a business of their own, and so far it is doing very well. They have developed and produced a line of greeting cards using drawings and photos of horses. It was suggested that they come to us and see if we might have some good advice to offer. DJ, Amy, the floor is yours.”

DJ wished she could crawl out of the room on the floor that was supposedly hers.

Amy nudged her. “Come on.”

They picked up their two boxes and walked to the front of the room, where they set up a display on the edge of the chalkboard and the table. Then they stood next to each other, took deep breaths, and Amy began. They took turns describing what they had done, where the cards were selling, which sold the best, and their idea for a business name. When they finished, the teacher asked if there were any questions.

When one of the students asked more about costs, Amy handed out a paper she'd prepared with that information.

“Cool,” DJ whispered.

Mr. Mann took over the board and wrote down suggestions. That flew along with questions, fast and furious. No one wanted to leave when the bell rang.

“I think we should take this on as a class project,” one boy from the middle aisle suggested.

“Me too” came from around the room.

“I take it that is an agreement?” Mr. Mann said, looking around the room.

When everyone nodded, he turned to the girls. “How about we set up an after-school meeting for next Wednesday? Those who can come, do so. Then we'll plan for further meetings. Is that all right with you?”

DJ started to say something, but Amy poked her and said, “That would be great. Thank you.”

As the students left the room, several stopped and admired the cards. “You ought to put these in the school store,” one said. “I'd buy them.”

“Me too,” said another. “I love horses.”

John nodded to them as he and another boy walked out.

“You did very well,” Mr. Mann told them as they gathered up their things. “I've never seen this group so excited about anything. We'll discuss what we can do during class and begin to lay out a proposed plan. I know of a couple of businesspeople I'd like to bring in to speak on the issues of production and marketing. If you can get away from your classes again, you are welcome to come hear them, too. But we'll make sure you get the information. I have a list of books that might be helpful for you to read, and you're welcome to use my class library of books, videos, and audio tapes.”

“I think I'm about blown away,” DJ admitted as she and Amy picked up their things. “I never thought about how much we needed to know.”

“You've done well without a lot of experience. I'm happy to help.”

“Can you believe that?” Amy said once they were alone in the hallway, her eyes wide. “That was totally awesome.”

“I can't believe we're going to be late to our next class if we don't hustle.”

After school, DJ climbed into the truck with her box on her lap. “Joe, you shoulda been there.”

“I take it the meeting went well.”

“An understatement for sure.” Amy climbed in and slammed the door.

“Might hot-fudge sundaes help calm you two?”

“Hot-fudge sundaes are good for any time.” DJ leaned her head on the seat back. “Man, I feel like I've been jumping a six-foot stone wall without a horse.”

“Are you in over your head yet?”

“Joe, it's like we're walking on the bottom of the ocean, so deep we can't even see daylight.” Amy flopped like DJ.

How am I gonna do all this?
DJ's mind raced.
School, classes at the Academy, shows, our business … sheesh
. “This all makes me tired just thinking about it.”

“Me too. Maybe two hot-fudge sundaes.”

What is Mom going to say now?

That evening, DJ called her grandmother. “Would it be okay if I came over for a while? I really need to talk with you.”

“Of course, darlin', you know you can always come here.”

“I know. See you in a couple of minutes.”

DJ hung up the phone, snagged her latest foal drawing from her easel, and took the stairs two at a time. “I'm going to Gran's, okay?”

“Sure, but don't be out after dark,” her mother called back from the family room. “Tell Joe and Mother to come over for dessert later if they'd like.”

“ 'Kay.” DJ thought of getting her bike out but decided she could jog the short distance just as fast.

“I have our tea all ready,” Gran said when DJ came through the door. “And cookies.”

“Mmm, smells good in here. You've been baking?”

“She sure has.” Joe picked up the tray he'd prepared. “You two want kitchen or living room? I'm going out to work in the garden,” he answered in response to the questioning look DJ sent him.

“Living room.” Gran hooked her arm in DJ's. “I've needed a heart-to-heart with you for some time, darlin'. I'm so glad you called.”

Joe set the tray down on the footstool in front of Gran's new wing chair. “Save me some cookies, you hear?” He winked at DJ as he snagged a cookie from the plate.

“Oh, Mom said to invite you over for dessert later. I almost forgot.”

Joe and Gran looked at each other and both shrugged. “Sure.”

Gran took her place in the chair, and DJ looked up at her from her seat on the floor. While DJ had always thought her grandmother a beautiful woman, studying her beloved face in the lamplight, she realized it afresh. Gran wore love and serenity like a gossamer shawl or a second skin. Her silvering hair feathered back on the sides and waved down on one side of her forehead. DJ looked closely—sure enough, there was a dab of cerise oil paint on the side of her chin. She'd often thought Gran resembled a meadowlark, with a song of praise raised in the morning.

DJ inhaled. Fragrant cinnamon apple tea, chocolate cookies, and Gran's rosewater perfume. She always smelled fresh like the flowers she loved but without the thorns. DJ sighed and leaned against her grandmother's knee, the way she used to sit so often when they lived in their old house, before Gran married Joe.

“What's up, child?” Gran stroked DJ's hair.

DJ told her all about the business, school, and her art class. She showed her drawing and finally ran down to a close.

“Is that all?” Gran poured more tea in both their cups.

“Um, I think so. I … I just feel sometimes like I might snap like a rubber band that got pulled too hard, you know what I mean?”

“Sure do. And I'm not surprised you feel that way. Everyone does at times, and the pace you go …” Gran shook her head and chuckled. “Darlin', you make me feel like a slacker at times.”

DJ traced circles on the knee of her jeans.

“That's not all, is it?”

“No.” DJ turned and looked up at her grandmother, set aglow by the lamplight. She held up her left hand. “Gran, I've got to get over this fear of fire thing. It is so crazy that I freeze when I see fire.” DJ looked at the small scar in the palm of her hand. “I know you're going to say we should pray about it. I
have
prayed about it—lots. But nothing seems to happen.”

Gran sighed and nodded. “Sometimes it seems that way all right. Why don't the two of us pray together now, not only for the fear to go away but for wisdom in dealing with this.”

DJ nodded and, with her hands clasped in Gran's, bowed her head. Silence surrounded them—the kind of silence that is so full of peace, it makes your eyes water. DJ sniffed and leaned her head on Gran's knee.

“Father in heaven, DJ and I come to you with a special purpose tonight. We thank you for the great love you have for us and for the way you take care of us.”

DJ sniffed again.
Come on, Randall, get a grip
.

“We ask that you help Darla Jean in overcoming this fear of fire. Give us wisdom to understand and the strength to carry out whatever it takes to help her through this. Father, we know we are your children and that your promises are ours. You said ‘Fear not, be not afraid,' and that's what this precious girl wants, freedom from fear. We thank you that you hear us and that you will answer in your time and your way. In Jesus' precious name, amen.”

“Amen. Thanks.” DJ sniffed again and sighed.

Surely this would make a difference, but how soon?