Читать книгу Take My Hand - Ruth Scofield - Страница 13

Cliff dug into his backpack, hauling out books, grubby loose papers, a sports magazine and a package of cheese crackers, before he pulled out the envelope Alexis had sent home with him Friday night. Alexis had written a short account of Cliff’s week at school. It was only a slim margin more successful than those first few days.

He flipped it onto her desk, then ambled toward his seat.

“Thank you, Cliff,” Alexis said. A piece of popcorn tumbled from the envelope as she picked it up, making her smile. She pulled out the note. As he’d done twice before, James had responded on the back of the paper.

Funny, how eager she felt to read what had been up to now only a sentence or two.

Ah, progress felt sweet. Even this tiny bit of progress. This was a whole paragraph.

“We had a half-decent weekend,” James wrote. “Cliff came to the shop with me on Saturday. Found him unexpectedly at the top of the high ladder once, looking at the inventory on the top shelf. Followed your advice. Didn’t yell at him. Asked him to tell me what was there, then thanked him for his help. He came down when I asked him to. So far, popcorn seems to do him as a substitute snack to candy. Thanks again, Miss Richmond.”

He’d signed it with his full name.

She rubbed her thumb over the James Dean Sullivan. It summoned a mental image of that half smile and the cocky gleam shooting from his glance. Oh, my! It seemed a long week plus a weekend since their breakfast together.

Beyond that, the thought that some of her suggestions were successful for Cliff and his father was heady stuff. It warmed her heart. Alexis’s initial reaction was to sit and immediately respond. Instead, she called the class to order and began her school day.

Yet the glow from James’s note threaded her whole morning, and by afternoon she wondered if she dare invite James Dean Sullivan and his son to the spring picnic her Bible Study group had on their calendar for the next Sunday afternoon. Her study group mostly consisted of couples, but a few singles like herself attended. The picnic was to be a family affair. Kids of all ages would be there, and hopefully Cliff could find a friend. He sure needed one.

It seemed a very personal invitation.

Too personal? she asked herself.

She frowned slightly, struggling with it. Surely it would be fine. Why not? She didn’t think they ever went to church because Cliff had talked of sleeping late on Sunday. And James could only benefit by joining a Bible Study. Cliff needed the kind of love only the Lord could provide. Why wouldn’t it be okay to ask them to a worship service, then the picnic following? It was the kind thing to do.

Oh, sure, that was her reason all right, she thought in disgust. It was the kind thing to do? Who was she fooling? It still remained a personal invitation.

But was it really wise to make this so personal? It would feed the gossips.

Yet wise or not, Cliff and James needed more than they had right now. A church fellowship could only help them further cement their relationship.

It all made perfect sense to her, but still she should leave it to James, she mused. She wondered about his spiritual health. He’d said nothing about his relationship with God during their few talks. She’d already made the suggestion once to him to find a church to attend. There was a fine line between helpfulness and intrusion, she knew, and for some people, this was very private business.

Besides, they had nothing personal in common at all—no matter how sexy the guy’s grin was.

Yet an hour later, she knew she couldn’t leave it alone, either. Just before the last bell of the day, she gave in and scribbled a note of invitation for Cliff to take to James. Before she could second-guess herself, she included her home phone number.

Overstepping herself or not, it still felt right for her to help a student who needed it. And his father.

At home that night Alexis filled her evening with reading student papers and giving her tiny kitchen an extra clean. She kept her cell phone close by as she hauled two loads of laundry to the basement and completed it.

James didn’t call.

At eleven she climbed into bed, refusing to admit disappointment. Why should she? Inviting him to the church picnic had been only an impulse….

At five minutes past seven the next morning, the phone rang. This early in the day, a phone call usually meant something extra going on at school, or an emergency.

At the point of gathering her hair into a ponytail, she clasped two hair clips between her teeth and tucked the phone under her chin. “Hello,” she mumbled.

“’Lo. This is J.D.” His voice held an early-morning huskiness, which sent goose bumps skittering across her arms.

Her heart hit a bump in its rhythm. The hair clips went flying as she spat them out. “Uh, hello, James. What’s up?”

“Didn’t get your note till this morning.”

“Oh. Didn’t Cliff do his homework?”

“Uh, yeah. Sort of. Didn’t get it finished, I’m afraid. My fault. I had a shipment of parts come in that I had to take care of, so I… Sorry. Didn’t get home till nearly midnight. I didn’t have time to check it till this morning.”

“I see. Well, we’ll have to work on it during study time.”

“Okay. Thanks. About Sunday…”

“Yes?”

“We’ll come.”

Her heart bumped again, then settled down, racing only a tad. This was definitely good for Cliff. For them both. The idea of spending more time with James didn’t hover as a great chore, either.

“Great.” She was glad he couldn’t see her. See the smile she couldn’t hide. “I think you know where the church is?”

“Yeah, sure do.” His tone picked up enthusiasm. “We’ll be there on time. Should we bring something for the picnic?”

“Not this time. There’ll be enough food for an army. It’s out at the Bender farm by a creek that feeds into the lake. Cliff can bring his fishing pole if he wants to.”

There was a slight hesitation before he said, “I don’t think Cliff is into fishing, but I’ll pack a couple of rods just in case. One for you, too.”

“Uh, well, I don’t really fish.”

“Then, I’ll teach you.”

“I hate to tell you this, James, being a teacher and all—” Alexis moistened her lips “—but I don’t relish picking up live worms, much less sticking them on a hook.”

His deep chuckle tickled her ear. She had a sinking feeling she shouldn’t have told him.

“You don’t have to handle live worms, Alexis. I’ll take care of the bait for you.”

“Thank goodness.” She rushed on to say, “I wouldn’t want Cliff to see his teacher freaking out over such a little thing as picking up a worm. But honestly, when I was a kid, science was my worst subject because I couldn’t bring myself to touch anything slimy.”

“And you haven’t outgrown that aversion, hmm?” His tone held a note of amusement.

A sense of horror stole over her. “You’re not going to hold that over my head, are you?”

“It’s mighty tempting. I can just imagine what Cliff would do with that piece of information about our Miss Richmond.”

Could he imagine Cliff using it, or himself? What kind of child had James been? As mischievous as she suspected? Something in her growing knowledge of him told her he may have caused his mother to go gray early.

“It wouldn’t help much in class, either,” she muttered.

“Don’t worry. I won’t cause you any trouble in class. It’s only— Never mind. I’ll see you Sunday.”

They rang off, leaving Alexis’s ears ringing with James’s chortles.

That may have been a big mistake—her honesty over handling worms. She shook her head and grabbed her brush, then left her hair to hang about her face without clips. She was likely to be late for school.

She parked in her usual spot and exited her car just as Lori Donato, the regular fifth-grade teacher, parked next to her.

“Hi, Alexis,” Lori called as she slid her plump form from her car and reached for a canvas bag. “I’ve been meaning to catch up with you. Do you have a free period today? We need to discuss the field trip up to the Truman Museum if we’re going to do it next month.”

“You’re right, we should make some plans soon.” Alexis hefted her own overly full briefcase and pocketed her keys. “How about during lunch?”

“That’ll do. When—”

A familiar black truck slowed to an idle alongside them. It was impossible not to notice him. James hung one arm out his window.

Cliff slid out the other side.

“Morning, Miss Richmond,” James said with a smile as deliberate as four beats to a measure. Somehow, after their recent interaction, his formal address sounded more like a spoken intimacy.

“Good morning.” Alexis stepped closer to the truck, fighting the desire to let her own silly grin explode.

She glanced at Cliff as he rounded the truck, and her budding smile dwindled. The child sported droopy eyes. Had he been as late getting to bed as his dad? That would make for a trying day.

Keeping a school child up late…

Alexis tried to tamp down her vexation. Single parenting had its pitfalls and she didn’t think James had any backup when he had to work late. Keeping his child with him at the shop was the lesser of two evils, she supposed, compared to leaving him at home alone.

From the few remarks Cliff had made, Alexis suspected that had been a problem in the past. The boy’s mother had left him alone far too often to make a solitary meal on hot dogs, soda and chips, and then with no one to take notice, to put himself to bed. In spite of it all, James’s choice to take Cliff to work with him was the better one.

“Hiya, Lori.” James addressed the other teacher.

“Hi there, J.D.” Lori spoke with familiarity. “How have you been? Heard about Cliff coming home to live with you. Sorry about Melanie. Are you making out all right these days?”

“Learning. With a little help from my friends….”His glance, warm with gratitude, rested on Alexis.

Lori’s glance moved to Alexis, as well. “Uh, that’s good. Can never have too many friends. And Miss Richmond is a good teacher.”

Alexis clutched her bag tighter as a flush climbed her cheeks. “Thanks. But it’s my job.”

“That picnic is a terrific idea, Alexis,” James said, reclaiming her attention. His hair appeared as tousled as Cliff’s, and she wanted to ask him where his hair-brush had got to—only she rather liked it in its disheveled state. “Cliff and I can use the break.”

The tall, thin figure of their district school superintendent, Mr. Fisher, appeared out of nowhere. The county was building new offices, but until they were complete, the district’s temporary office was across from the school. They shared the parking lot.

“Good morning, ladies. Staff meeting at the last bell today, you recall.”