Need You Now (7 page)

Grace had thought Tristan understood her.

She'd been told all her life that she was pretty, but didn't one single person understand that looks don't give you a rite of passage into happiness? Grace hurt all the time. Sometimes the ache inside was almost too much to bear.

“Did you hear me?” Glenda sat back and folded her arms across the table. “If I wasn't going with Jake, I'd almost be upset about this.”

“I can't go, even if he asks.” Grace forced a tater tot into her mouth and chewed, hoping Glenda's comeback wouldn't cause her to choke. She swallowed, then looked up at Glenda, whose jaw hung low.

“Are you kidding me? Everyone wants to go with Carter.”

Grace knew she couldn't even consider the idea. “I'll be in Houston that weekend. It's something that's been planned for months.”

“What?”

Grace shrugged, not expecting Glenda to push the issue so hard. “Some of my parents' friends, they have this thing, a party . . . every year.”

Glenda unfolded her arms and started drumming her fingers on the table. “You'll be the only one at this table not going with someone to the senior prom.”

“I know. I hate that it's the same weekend.” Grace cringed, knowing her lies only fueled her misery. Her heart ached the way it always did when she didn't tell the truth. She often wondered if it was God's way of letting her know He was onto her.

Glenda nodded to her right as Skylar Brown walked by their table carrying her lunch tray. She was the only girl in their small school who dressed gothic. Black shoes, black jeans, and a black, long-sleeved shirt. “I bet she'd love to go to prom with Carter.” Glenda grunted. “Like
that
would ever happen.”

Grace watched Skylar for a few moments. She was pretty enough, even with her dark eye makeup and jet-black hair, but Skylar looked more out of place here in the country than she would have at a big school in the city. Grace remembered her first day of school. She didn't have a pencil to take notes in math class. Skylar was sitting next to her and quietly handed her a pencil, never even looking at her. It was a simple gesture, but it stuck with Grace. Skylar glanced in Grace's direction, and Grace quickly pulled her eyes away.

Glenda went on talking about what a mistake it would be not to go to prom with Carter, but her words blurred together as Grace's mind drifted. So many things were wrong with the world. Grace's stomach churned, her heart ached. She knew she had a great family, that Tristan wasn't worth the grief she'd invested in the breakup. But still, she felt unsettled all the time, like a top spinning, faster and faster, vivid colors dancing in her head.

Tops fall over eventually
.

The bell rang, and Grace was glad to walk away from Glenda and the rest of the girls. It took everything she had to pretend she was like them. She knew she looked the part, except that most of the other girls were sporting sleeveless or short-sleeved shirts. Grace knew she couldn't get away with the long-sleeved shirts for much longer.

As she walked down the crowded hallway to class, she thought again about what Tristan had told her when they broke up. She shifted her books on her hip and shook her head.
Everyone has problems, not just me
.

Tristan was wrong. Grace knew her troubles weren't anything she couldn't handle on her own.

Lifting her chin, she made up her mind. She was going to change. Starting today.

Chapter Four

Darlene spent the morning with Myrna, touring the facility and meeting the other four employees.

She'd already met Lindsey during her first visit to the school. Though only eighteen years old, she ran the front office. Myrna said she was proficient and also had a vested interest in the school. Her seven-year-old sister was a student there. There were three other teachers who worked with the students. Two of them had teaching degrees and were recent college graduates. The third teacher was older, maybe Darlene's age, and she had degrees in psychology and teaching. They were all welcoming, but Darlene couldn't help but wonder why Myrna had hired her so quickly without a degree or any teaching experience.

At lunchtime, Myrna led her to the kitchen, a sizable room in the back of the building with a round table and six chairs. Myrna unwrapped her sandwich as Darlene heated up leftover meat loaf and mashed potatoes.

After they both sat down, Myrna asked, “What do you think so far?” Her gray hair was gathered into a bun atop her head, and she was wearing a gray dress that fell just past her knees. Darlene didn't think she'd seen a more matronly-looking woman, and Myrna was a pillar of calm. Even when Lindsey had told her that the toilet was overflowing in the bathroom and flooding the hallway, Myrna had hardly reacted. “If that's the worst thing the Lord tosses our way today, we'll be okay,” she'd said with a smile.

“It's a nice facility.” Darlene blew on a bite of meat loaf. “I'm anxious to spend time with all the children, especially Cara.” After three hours in Myrna's office going over procedures and Cara's routine for the afternoon, Darlene was anxious to get started.

Myrna smiled, and her eyes twinkled as they had all morning while she was showing Darlene around and teaching her about Cara. “Your one-on-one sessions with Cara will start at one o'clock. Then, starting tomorrow, you'll also be in the morning group sessions.”

Darlene nodded. “I'm a little surprised that I don't need a degree to do this type of work.” She knew she wasn't getting paid much, but she wanted to do a good job, even if she was just classified as an aide. Maybe no one else had applied for the job, and they were desperate for help in this small town.

Myrna dabbed at her chin with her napkin. “I must warn you about something.” She paused, sighed. “Cara's father is not the easiest man to deal with. Mae Perkins quit because of him, even though she cared a great deal about Cara.”

Darlene knew this had all sounded too good to be true. “Uh-oh,” she said as she lifted her fork to her mouth.

Myrna waved a hand in the air. “I'll handle Dave Schroeder.”

Darlene swallowed, thought for a few moments. “Did Mae have a degree or experience?” She poked at her potatoes, wondering if she was the right person to be working here.

“Yes, Mae did. You're the first person I've hired without a degree or experience.”

They were quiet for a few minutes. Darlene shifted her weight in the chair. “Why
did
you hire me?”

Myrna swallowed the last bite of her sandwich, dabbed her mouth, then locked eyes with Darlene. “Because you're a mother of three teenagers. None of my other teachers have had children. Most have been right out of college, and I know that our small school is just a stepping-stone for them before they move on to bigger and better things.” Myrna stood up with her plate and headed for the trash can. She dumped her plate and napkin, then turned to face Darlene. “I just have a good feeling about you, Darlene.”

Darlene had been so excited this morning. Now she fought worry. “Tell me about Cara's father. Why is he difficult? Is Cara's mother the same way?”

Myrna leaned her back against the counter. “There is no mother. She was killed in a car accident when Cara was six years old. Dave has been raising Cara on his own.”

“Hmm . . .” Darlene stood up and put her dish on the counter. “That must be hard.”

Myrna washed her hands and waited for Darlene to do the same. She turned to face Darlene. “We all work with the children in a group in the mornings, then everyone splits off for one-on-one study in the afternoon. Two of the children only come to school in the mornings for group, so that leaves five in the afternoon, one for each of us.” She smiled. “I work with my granddaughter, Theresa, most days, but today Theresa will be with Beverly so that I can sit in with you and Cara.”

Darlene nodded as Myrna continued.

“There are a few things you should know about Cara before we go into the classroom. As I told you before, she's high-functioning. She is capable of carrying on a conversation, but sometimes she chooses not to. Her own father says she goes days without speaking to him. Other times, she's quite the chatterbox. And her attention span won't allow her to stay on task for long. Our biggest challenge with Cara is keeping her focused. If you find something she likes, she tends to commit herself to it, even if only for a while. She loves crossword puzzles, but rarely finishes one. She seems to enjoy reading, but I don't think she's ever read a whole book.”

Darlene was wishing she had pen and paper handy. “Should I be taking notes?”

Myrna snapped her fingers. “Oh, and I almost forgot. Cara only eats white food, no other color.” She shook her head and smiled. “Poor Mae brought her a big bag of jelly beans one day, certain that the sweet candy would change her mind about only white foods.” Myrna chuckled. “Cara threw those jelly beans all over the room.”

Darlene smiled, charmed by this woman who didn't speak about Cara with even a hint of irritation.

“Oh, and you'll need to take off your jewelry. Cara is fixated with it. Not only will she not do anything at all in class if you wear jewelry, but she will want to take it home with her. It's a type of perseveration.” Myrna lifted her hands, then pointed to her ears. “You'll notice that none of us have any type of jewelry on.”

Darlene pointed to her wedding ring.

“Yes, even your wedding ring will have to be removed.”

Darlene couldn't remember the last time she'd taken off her wedding ring. Maybe fifteen years? She wasn't sure it would come off.

“I'm going to go to the ladies' room, then I'll meet you outside the last classroom on the left.” Myrna said it in a tone that sounded like they were going to a big concert or a special event.

Darlene nodded, then ran her hand under the faucet in the kitchen, hoping she could slide off her ring.

Every year Brad wondered how they were all going to survive another tax deadline, but at five thirty, Jeannie confirmed that all the returns were in the mail. He loosened his tie, leaned back in his chair, and took a deep breath. For the first time all day, he thought about Darlene and wondered how her first day on the job was going. He picked up the picture of the two of them that he kept on his desk. Their trip to San Antonio a few years ago. They'd stayed at the Hyatt on the Riverwalk, and Darlene was wearing a baseball cap, shorts, and a pink T-shirt as they stood on a footbridge overlooking the river. Brad smiled, wishing he could have bottled all the romance they'd crammed into those four glorious days. Brad's parents had come in from Florida to watch the kids.

Now that tax season was over, maybe he could take a few days off and they'd go on another minivacation. They didn't do that enough. For him, it didn't really matter where, as long as they were together.

He shut off his computer and closed a few open files on his desk, stacking them in the corner. He anticipated that Cliff would be choosing a new partner soon, and Brad hoped and prayed it would be him. Whatever little bit of money Darlene made at her new job, it should be hers to spend on herself, or for extras. Providing for the family was Brad's job. He'd always made a nice living, but his income as a partner would increase substantially. Brad would renovate the old farmhouse into Darlene's own mansion on the hill.

“Jeannie, I'm going. Are you heading home?” Brad picked up his briefcase, turned off the light in his office, and eased toward his assistant's desk.

“Yep. I'm right behind you. Dan is grilling steaks to celebrate the last day of tax season, and I can already taste 'em.”

“We got through it, didn't we?” Brad smiled. “Enjoy your evening. Come in late in the morning if you want.” Jeannie had worked for him for many years, and Brad felt like she'd earned every dime they paid her. When he made partner, he was going to push for a nice raise for Jeannie too.

As he walked into the elevator and pushed the button for the lobby, he thought about something Darlene had mentioned several times since they'd moved to Round Top. This seemed like a good time to buy it for her. Now that tax season was over, he'd have time to do a little research and order her that special little something she'd been wanting. A celebration of her new job.