Читать книгу Homecoming Day - Holly Jacobs - Страница 11

LAURA LOVED HER SMALL house within walking distance to the school. When she’d bought it three years ago, she’d enjoyed decorating and arranging everything. It was perfect.

This room was not.

She stood at the door to what was once the guest room and now would be a nursery. Unfortunately, it didn’t look like either at the moment. It looked like a storage room. A very disorganized storage room at that.

There were boxes and bags everywhere. For the last month she’d meant to come in and start sorting everything she’d bought for the baby’s arrival, but every time she tried, she got as far as opening the door, then she’d simply shut it and back away.

It wasn’t fair.

She was supposed to be doing this with Jay.

He was supposed to be here with her. They’d have called his parents, told them to come over and made a day of it. She’d have baked lasagna, and that crunchy garlic bread Jay liked so much. The aroma of it would have filled her small house and the sound of laughter would have filled every room as well.

They’d decided to live here for a few years and save money for something bigger. She always told Jay that the small size simply made the house more cozy. And on that day, it would have been cozy. Jay, his parents and her pregnant belly would have filled the house to the point of overflowing.

The thought of how it should have been hurt. It was a crippling pain that had the ability to take her breath away.

She put the pain aside, though, and concentrated on how it was now.

And how-it-was-now was that JT was going to paint a beautiful mural, and Seth was going to assemble the baby’s furniture.

How-it-was-now, was that she was going to gather all the baby’s clothes and wash them, then fold them and put them in drawers.

Laura forced herself into the room and pulled a bunch of Onesies out of a box. She’d ordered them from an online store. It’s how she’d bought most of the baby’s things. It seemed so much easier than traipsing to stores and having people ooh and aah over her ever-expanding stomach. Each time someone did that, she was hit anew with the thought that Jay should be there.

Stop.

She needed to stop thinking about Jay.

Which sounded so simple and was anything but.

She pulled out a Onesie. It had a picture of Einstein and the caption said Brilliant Minds Have Bad Hair Days, Too. She smiled. She could do this.

She marveled at how small the tiny sleepers were. Within weeks, Bbog would be wearing them as she held him or her.

She took off tags and filled the laundry basket with the baby’s clothes, then struggled to her feet. She was so ready not to feel like a turtle who was stuck on his back, scrambling to find some way to right himself.

The doorbell rang.

Basket in hand, she opened the door to Seth.

He looked different out of uniform. Approachable.

Cute.

Thinking of Seth Keller as cute was disconcerting at best, downright disturbing at worst.

“Hey, what are you doing?” he asked by way of a greeting.

For a moment she worried that he knew she’d thought he was cute, but he came in, shut the door behind him and stared pointedly at the basket in her hand.

Laura felt a flood of relief. “Laundry? I mean, I’d have thought it was evident, but maybe not.”

“You shouldn’t be carrying anything.” He took the basket from her hands.

“I can carry a basket of baby clothes. They weigh less than the grocery bags tend to.”

“You shouldn’t carry those eith—”

She was saved from another lecture and more disturbing thoughts about the man’s cuteness when the doorbell rang.

Laura opened the door to find the once again scrubbed-looking JT wearing oversize denim overalls and a tight white shirt, carrying a small bag. Her mother was in the car and didn’t look as if she was going to get out.

“Hi, Ms. Watson. Let’s make some pretty pictures.”

Seth put the basket down and went past them to JT’s mother’s car. He talked to her for a minute, then returned to the house. “I told her I’d take you home, if that was okay, and it was.”

JT nodded. “Thanks. So, Ms. Watson, wanna show me the room?”

SETH LISTENED TO JT and Laura chatter away about painting techniques and the mural as he opened up the box that contained the crib. The instructions may as well have been in Greek.

Now, he was sure Greek was a fine language. He had friends who were Greek and Lori and Tony had a habit of calling each other Greek endearments, which he was sure Laura and JT would think was sweet. But he wanted his instructions in English. Not rocket scientist English, but rather plain old everyday English.

He examined the parts, assessing what he had and trying to picture what he had to do in order to turn them into a crib.

Laura left to start a load of baby clothes in the machine, and he said, “JT, look at this paragraph. See if it makes sense to you.” He thrust the instructions at the girl.

She studied them for a moment and shrugged. “I don’t get it.”

“Could you read that paragraph while I try to follow along?”

JT studied the text, then shook her head. “No.” She turned her back on him and started to sketch outlines on the wall.

He looked up and saw Laura standing in the doorway with a puzzled expression on her face as she stared at JT. “Why don’t I help you?” she asked him. Laura read the instructions, step-by-step. And gradually, he made progress. She held a side as he screwed the headboard in place.

Forty-five minutes later, they had a crib.

“I’m gonna paint soon, Ms. Watson. You shouldn’t be in the fumes.”

“Okay. I’ll make lunch.” Seth jumped to his feet and offered her a hand. At first, he thought she wasn’t going to take it, but good sense won out and she did. He got her to her feet and she headed into the hall.

Seth hung behind. “Can I do anything to help, JT?”

JT shook her head. “Nah. I like working on my own.”

“I get that. But sometimes everybody needs a hand. Remember, I’m here. So’s Ms. Watson. We’re here to help with whatever you need.”

JT turned toward him. “I know we’re talking about more than helping with a mural. You’re trying to be real sly and make sure I know that you two care. I sort of already figured it out. I don’t know why. Why do you like me? I’m not the kind of kid most cops latch on to. And I can’t figure out why Ms. Watson likes me. She’s the only teacher at the school who does.”

“That’s not true.”

JT snorted. “Yeah, it is. Of course, I’m a pain in the ass in class. I don’t turn in homework and don’t apply myself. I’m disruptive and according to one very helpful teacher, there’s a chance I’m heading for a life of crime. She’s got a whole list of things I do and don’t do. Most of the time what I do do, I shouldn’t. And what I don’t do, I should. It’s no way to endear yourself to the powers-that-be. I guess they have a reason not to really like me, which only makes it weirder that Ms. Watson seems to.”

“So, why not apply yourself?”

“Why should I?”

Seth couldn’t help but think of his mom. He knew exactly what she’d say if she were here. “My mom had this option speech. She’d say, you should always do your best in every class, no matter how much work it takes because each of those grades represents your future options. Maybe your future job won’t depend on your grade in biology, but maybe you’ll decide you want to be a doctor. Maybe you’ll have this burning desire that eats at you—a feeling that your life won’t be complete unless you become a doctor. Well, if you flunked out of your science classes, you won’t have that option.”

He’d heard the speech so many times growing up, it was like he was channeling Deborah Keller. “If she said that to me once, she said it a thousand times. For her, it wasn’t about the grades, or the teachers, it was about me. About giving me the world. So, maybe you should give yourself as much of a chance as possible.”

“Maybe I’m dumb enough that all the chances and all the trying in the world won’t give me many choices, so what does it matter?”

Before he could come up with a response, JT pulled out some earbuds, stuck them in her ears and turned on an iPod, effectively tuning him out and his obviously unwanted advice.

He went back to the boxes and pulled out the pieces of a highchair. It was much easier to put together than the crib. Twenty minutes later, he carried it to the kitchen. “Where should this go?”

Laura smiled. “It’s great, isn’t it? How about we put it here.” She gestured to the side of the table. “I normally use this chair, so it will be close. I bought a little cloth cushion for it. It’s somewhere in all those boxes and bags.”

“I’ll find it. JT will holler at both of us if you try going into that room while she’s painting.” He paused. “She thinks she’s dumb.”

“Pardon?”

“I was talking to JT about leaving her options open by getting good grades, and it was easy to tell from her response that she doesn’t think she could get good grades, even if she tried. So her philosophy seems to be, why bother?”

Laura chewed on her lip. “I’ll talk to some of her other teachers next week. She still has detention with me. I’m pretty sure she’ll be serving it until Thanksgiving, or after. I thought her teachers could tell me areas she needs help in and we could work on them while she’s my captive.”

Laura looked fierce. Determined to help JT, even if JT didn’t want the help. She reminded him of Allie. His wife had gone into social work, filled with ideals, ready to save the world.

Seeing that same sense of commitment in Laura made him feel closer to her. “I hate to see any kid this lost. When they feel that it’s hopeless…well, that’s when we see them at the station. I don’t want to find JT down there again.”

Laura tore some lettuce and put it into a huge wooden bowl. “There’s something about her, isn’t there?”

“She reminds me of me,” he admitted.

“Really?” She seemed surprised at the comparison.

Seth remembered what it felt like to think no one cared, to believe he had no future. “She’s in pain. I’m no psychiatrist, and I don’t know why, but I can see it. And I understand it, too. Every day since Allie died, I’ve hurt. It’s like this gaping wound that scabs over, but the scab keeps getting ripped off. It’s stupid things. Like holidays.” Christmas was less than a month away. That was one of the most excruciating holidays. But all of them were hard.

“A certain song,” Laura added. “The smell of his cologne as you walk through a store.”

Seth nodded. “Going out on a starlit night…Allie loved the stars. She could name all kinds of constellations and would point them out to me and tell me their stories. I’ve never been able to see them like she could. When the scab comes off, it leaves me bleeding again. Makes me feel so alone. I see that in JT.”

“Jay and I used to fight about the remote. Not really fight. It was one of those couple’s mock-battles. We’d laugh as we jockeyed for control. Now, every time I pick it up, I wish he was here. I’d…”

She didn’t need to finish the sentence because Seth got it. “Both of us understand pain and loneliness. Maybe that’s why we’re so drawn to JT and her problems.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way.” Laura looked thoughtful.

“I know why we hurt…we’ve both lost people we love. I’m not sure why she maybe feels this way. But I think when we figure that out, we’ll be able to figure out how to reach her.”

“So, we’re allies?”

Seth liked the term. “That’s a perfect way to describe us. Allies. For JT’s sake.”

“I’ll talk to her teachers on Monday and maybe we’ll have some clue.”

“Maybe the school’s counselor?” he suggested.

“I can give it a try.” She paused. “Thanks for this.” She waved her hands between them. “Defining us as allies. It makes me feel better.”

He must have looked confused, because Laura continued, “I’ll confess, I haven’t let myself really think about it, but in the back of my mind, I thought maybe you were here because of Jay’s dad.”

“He’s not the reason. He did ask me to let him know if you needed anything, but was actually very specific about not wanting me to feel like I was in the middle. He didn’t want me spying on you. We’re allies. He’s my boss. They’re two different and distinct relationships.”

Laura seemed relieved. “Good. Thanks. You can tell him that I don’t need anything from him or his wife. You can assure him of that.”

Whatever was between the chief and Laura, it was clear that it ran deep. “Pain and anger. You, me and JT—the three of us seem to have it in spades. Hopefully, we’ll figure out what caused JT’s and help her get past it.”

Was there hope for them, as well?

THE BABY’S ROOM WASN’T completely done, but, with Seth and JT’s help, it was close. Laura went into school on Monday with some of her old optimism. She would find a way to help JT. She got a copy of JT’s schedule in the office, and one-by-one, tracked down her teachers.

JT’s science teacher handed her a stack of worksheets that JT could do for extra credit. JT’s math teacher, while not offering up glowing comments did say that she did well with the pre-algebra questions in class, but she struggled with word problems.

Her French teacher said her spoken vocabulary was above average, but her written knowledge of the language was almost nonexistent and she gave Laura some flashcards to work with.

Laura found JT’s English teacher at her desk during the her lunch break. She didn’t know Debbie Lutz well. Debbie was older and had a different clique of teacher friends than Laura did, but they’d always been on good terms. She knocked softly on the open door to draw her colleague’s attention. “Hey, Deb.”

Debbie set her sandwich down and motioned Laura in. “Laura. Did you need something?”

Laura took the chair next to Debbie’s desk, grateful to be off her feet. “I’m here to talk to you about JT Thomas.”

Debbie grimaced. “What did she do now?”

“Nothing. She’s serving detention with me and I wanted to get a feel for her schoolwork, and thought we could sort through a few of her problem areas.”

“Well, I’m glad you only intend to work on a few of them, because if you intended to work on all of them, it would be a full-time job. The girl is one of the most uninspired students I’ve ever had—she’s belligerent, insufferable, rude…”

Laura felt herself bristle at Debbie’s obvious dislike of JT. “Fine. You don’t like her. But my question is, what can I do to help her succeed in English?”

Debbie shrugged. “Nothing. She’s hopeless.”

“So, that’s it? That’s your teaching plan? Write her off before she’s even reached the end of her first term of her freshman year?”

Debbie nodded. “Exactly. You’re young and still idealistic, but take it from someone who’s been teaching longer than you—sometimes there’s nothing you can do for a student. Then the best thing to do is to cut them loose and concentrate on the students you can help.”

Laura rose to her feet with more ease than she had in months. Her anger-induced adrenaline fueled her mobility. “I am not that young or that idealistic. Any idealism I once had died six months ago with my fiancé. And even now, at my most jaded, I would never write off a student. It’s lazy, Debbie. If that’s truly how you feel about teaching, maybe you should consider retiring before you do any further damage to the students.”

Debbie stood as well and looked as if she was winding up for a response, but Laura didn’t wait to hear it. She was too angry. Too…

She stormed out of the room.

Her adrenaline, though, could only take her so far. Still, she made her way to the teacher’s lounge and found a dark-haired stranger pouring herself a cup of coffee. “Bad day?” she asked.

“No,” Laura snapped and realized this poor stranger had nothing to do with Debbie Lutz’s lack of professionalism. “Sorry. It’s actually been a productive day. Fine, even. The last few minutes, not so much.”

Laura sank into a vacant chair and forced herself to take a deep breath and calm down.

The woman nodded and joined Laura at her table. “Trouble with a student?”

“Sort of. It led to talking to a particular teacher whose attitude was far more troubling.” She extended a hand. “I’m Laura Watson.”

“Eli Keller.”

“Eli?” The name niggled at her. “Possibly related to Lieutenant Seth Keller? He mentioned an Eli.”

“He’s my brother-in-law. You know him? He mentioned me?”

Laura felt it was probably better for Seth if she didn’t repeat his comment comparing his pregnant sister-in-law Eli to the equivalent of a house.

“He’d mentioned you’d had a baby.” Laura patted her own huge stomach. There, that was diplomatic. “But he didn’t say anything about you taking a job here.”

“I’m not. I run the teen parenting program in Whedon. I’m here for a meeting with the other directors. They’re in the next room talking. I’m supposed to be on a bathroom break, but stopped in for this.” And she waved her cup. “I’m surprised that Seth even mentioned me at all.” She shook her head as if realizing she was talking out of turn and changed the subject. “So, what teacher had you so annoyed?”

The fact that Eli didn’t work here made Laura feel more comfortable asking advice from her. “I have a student, a freshman. She’s been in nonstop trouble since September. I went to ask her English teacher about her and…” Remembering the conversation made Laura’s blood boil. “She told me the girl’s a lost cause and I should let it go. Well, I won’t.”

Eli frowned. “I work with pregnant girls and teen moms. Their parents, teachers and classmates think of them as lost causes. I won’t. I’m there to help them stay in school, find whatever resources they need to make that happen. After they graduate, I try to encourage them to continue their education at colleges, or tech schools. That’s our job. To teach. To prod. To do whatever it takes so our kids succeed. Never mind this teacher. Be there for your student. Be ready to lend an ear, a hug, or to kick butt if need be.”