A Sister's Promise (Promises)

by Lenfestey, Karen

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Rhonda hung up the phone in her office and looked at Kate. “The principal wants us to help try and figure out who keyed Al Glick’s car.”

  Kate’s chest ached in sympathy for the elderly man in his polyester suit.

  “It happened yesterday evening. Mr. Mohr thought that if you and I looked at the video footage perhaps we would recognize the student. We figure it’s someone in his class, so I’ve printed out his rosters.” She handed Kate several sheets of paper.

  Rhonda popped a tape into her VCR and they watched a black and white video of a near-empty parking lot. Kate saw two girls, their backs to the camera, holding hands as they walked away from the school. The taller one had the hood up on her wool coat, completely obscuring her face. She leaned over and kissed the other girl. The wind blew, revealing something on the back of the smaller girl’s neck. Kate squinted to make out four letters: H-A-T-E. It was Lily. At first Kate was shocked, then pleased. Glad Lily had connected with someone.

  In the far corner of the lot Kate saw a slightly pudgy boy wearing a baseball cap. He looked over his shoulder twice, then scratched Al’s rusted Chevy Impala. After Rhonda played the tape back again they both studied Al’s class rosters.

  Kate’s finger landed on the name of a boy always on the fringe of trouble. “It could be Philip Descartes.” While Rhonda continued scanning the list of names, Kate studied the faded picture on the desk depicting Rhonda’s kids building a sandcastle. Her little girl wore a bikini with strawberries on it and her son in blue trunks, had sand matted onto his cheeks. They smiled as if they had just discovered the secret to teamwork. Kate’s gaze returned to the counseling awards on the wall. Rhonda had managed to have it all.

  Kate twisted the gold band on her finger. “I have a question.”

  “What is it?” Rhonda made eye contact with Kate.

  Maybe if she could get the logistics figured out, her courage would follow. “I was wondering if there’s any way I could work part-time next year.” Kate couldn’t believe she was saying this to her supervisor. This seemed way too real.

  “Why? So you can take care of your sister?”

  Kate hadn’t thought about this scenario. Perhaps she could let her believe this was the reason. But she didn’t want to lie to Rhonda. “No. Actually, we’re thinking about starting a family.” Kate’s cheeks warmed.

  Rhonda’s face brightened. “Oh, Kate, that’s wonderful. I’ve been wondering when you would have kids. In my day, you got married and had kids right away.”

  Kate smiled a little. “It’s not for sure or anything. I just wanted to know if working part-time would be an option. That way I could stay in touch with my students, but also have some time with my baby.” My baby. Hmm. She kind of liked the sound of that.

  “Well, it might be. There are a few teachers on staff who have their counselor’s license. Perhaps one of them would like to teach half days and counsel the other half. I’ll have to check.”

  “So it might be a possibility?”

  “Perhaps. We would have to do some finagling with the master schedule to make it work. But I sure would hate to lose you. Hopefully we could work something out.”

  Lose her? Kate hadn’t considered that as an option. “I don’t want this spread all over the school yet. Could you be discreet when you talk to those teachers?”

  “Certainly. But with only two counselors, it won’t be hard for people to figure out.”

  After Kate left Rhonda’s office, her throat constricted, thinking about what she had put into motion.

  # # #

  That night Kate couldn’t sit still waiting for Mitch to come home. She tried to read a book after she put a pizza in the oven, but her thoughts swirled around like a pinwheel. She had figured out a way to balance who she was with who she would become.

  She turned on the TV, but after a few minutes she jumped up to re-organize the linen closet. The oven timer buzzed, but Mitch still wasn’t home. She set the temperature to warm and returned to the closet for Pledge and a dust cloth.

  The downstairs was clean enough for company by the time Kate heard the garage door open. She bounced into the kitchen and greeted Mitch with a kiss, causing his eyebrows to shoot up with curiosity.

  Once she and Mitch sat down to eat dinner together, Kate’s hands shook. She told him about how she helped solve the case of the keyed car. She paused then cleared her throat. “I’ve been thinking some more about the baby. What if I work part-time and put the baby in the school’s day care?”

  Mitch remained quiet for a moment. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not? Sounds like the perfect solution.”

  “Any student can sign-up to work in the day care, right?”

  “Right.” Kate wondered where he was going with this. “They have to take a very intensive child development class and earn at least a B first.”

  “But still. What if a student got mad at you like the boy did with Al Glick? What if a student decided to take it out on our baby?”

  “That would never happen.” The vandalism incident was so out of the ordinary that she couldn’t help talking about it. “That’s totally different. I don’t even give out grades.”

  “Students still get mad at you sometimes, don’t they? When you don’t let them drop a class or something?”

  “Yes,” Kate said, hesitantly. How dare he use information she had told him against her. “But the student workers in the day care are closely supervised by Vicki Larson.”

  “All it would take is a split second to hurt a baby. Adolescents are so erratic and emotional. I can’t take that chance.”

  Her hands squeezed into fists. “They can also be incredibly mature and caring.” Kate thought about Michelle, back in school half-days, on her way to making the honor roll. She thought of the boy who borrowed lunch money, who shielded his little brothers from their alcoholic mother. She thought of Todd, on his way to Purdue, who worried about leaving his troubled twin brother behind.

  Mitch put down his slice of pizza. “Kate, it’s not just the school’s day care I’m talking about. I don’t want our child raised by strangers. If we’re going to be parents, I say one of us needs to step up and devote ourselves twenty-four/seven.”

  “And that person should be me?”

  “Yes. I feel that it should be you.” Mitch sighed. “Having a baby is a major commitment. It will change everything.”

  “I know that.” Kate’s hands waved through the air expressing her exasperation. “If anyone knows that, it’s me. But my job is important. If it weren’t for me, Michelle would’ve dropped out of school by now. And I’m the only one who has any chance of reaching Lily. Those kids need me.”

  “Our kid will need you, too.” Mitch’s tone softened. “My mom was there to fix me scrambled eggs in the morning and to ask me how my day was when I got off the school bus. She was my den leader and she threw these amazing birthday parties. Did I ever tell you that for my eighth birthday she made this cake that looked just like a race car? It was so neat.” His eyes lit up as if he were turning eight all over again.

  “Well, good for you. Not everybody gets to have such a marvelous childhood,” Kate said, referring to herself.

  “I know. But doesn’t every child deserve it?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  What Kate had been dreading all day was happening. Across the conference table sat Mrs. B with her Cruella de Vil hair and disapproving eyes. She stunk of the cigarette she must’ve smoked in her office only moments before. Since FHS was “proud to be a drug-free zone” even staff members were forbidden from smoking on-campus.

  Being this close to Mrs. B, knowing how she did way more than break a no-smoking ban, made Kate nauseous. The fact that they both represented the same educational institution caused her perpetual despair.

  Three more weeks had passed and it was obvious that no one as going to do anything about her. Unfortunately Kate’s covert attempt at digging up the
names of more recent victims had failed.

  Next to Mrs. B sat the six other teachers of Chevy, an unmotivated sophomore. As they waited for Chevy’s mother to arrive, Brent Ewing asked, “Does anyone else think Chevy was named after the place where he was conceived?” Mrs. B snickered.

  Kate sucked in her breath when Chevy’s mother, dressed in a faded T-shirt and dirty Keds, appeared in the doorway. Kate rose to shake her hand, hoping the woman hadn’t heard Brent’s rude comment. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Fugate.” Kate figured Mrs. Fugate was about her age, however, the ridges in the mother’s face conveyed a life much harder than Kate’s. She must’ve had Chevy when she was still a teenager herself.

  Mrs. Fugate sat in an empty chair. “I didn’t want Chevy here because I didn’t want him to hear anything negative the teachers might say.” She clutched a wadded up tissue. “I figured we could come up with a plan on how to improve his grades and then I’ll go home and try to convince him it’s a good idea.”

  Kate resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Chevy was old enough to participate in a meeting about his school performance. Besides, teachers almost always couched their criticisms with positives when the students were around. In fact, everyone was so nice during these conferences, Kate often left worried that nothing was resolved.

  If this mom was the kind of parent who tried to persuade her son to do the right thing instead of insisting on it, then Kate felt quite confident that this was going to be one of those fruitless meetings.

  “You know Chevy has been diagnosed with ADD,” Mrs. Fugate continued.

  “No, I wasn’t aware,” Mrs. B answered in her harsh voice.

  Kate nodded her head, vaguely remembering something about Chevy and ADD.

  “Mrs. Hopper, if you knew about this, why didn’t you notify the teachers?” Mrs. B accused.

  Kate’s whole body tensed. “Well. . .I’m not at liberty to disclose things like that without a parent’s permission.”

  Mr. Mohr walked in the room and took a seat on the far side of the table. Kate looked down at her notepad, worried she wouldn’t impress Mr. Mohr with this particular parent-teacher conference.

  “Obviously that is the kind of information we teachers need to be aware of,” Mrs. B said. “I can’t believe Mrs. Hopper knew and didn’t share this with us.” She looked around the table at the other teachers, trying to rally support.

  “It would’ve been helpful,” Brent said. It was no surprise he was willing to string Kate up. She would be lucky if he didn’t start cussing her out like the time she accidentally misplaced a student in his art class. But none of the other teachers replied; some barely nodded their heads. Maybe because they knew as well as Kate that an ADD diagnosis was practically as common as a hangnail to this generation. It was hardly a breakthrough in figuring out why a student failed. It was simply a behavioral label.

  Mrs. B tapped her pen on the table. “Mrs. Fugate, you wanted us to know this, didn’t you?”

  Chevy’s mom dabbed at her eyes. “Yes.”

  “If I had known about Chevy’s condition I could have moved him to the front row. I could have made adjustments in my teaching to help him focus on the important points.”

  The way Mrs. B went on and on about the ADD was ridiculous. She was trying to make Kate look incompetent.

  “Well, now we all know,” Kate said firmly. She eyed Mr. Mohr’s grim face. Regret saturated her body and she softened her tone. “I’m sorry that I didn’t realize I had Mrs. Fugate’s permission to tell Chevy’s teachers.”

  Mrs. Fugate turned to face Kate. “Do you have children?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  She gave Kate the look that so many parents gave her. The look Kate was sick and tired of receiving. The look that said, “Then you can’t possibly understand.”

  Kate leaned forward. “The question is: how can we help Chevy be more successful here at Foxworth High?” She turned to Mrs. Fugate. “What tips do you have that have worked with Chevy in the past?”

  “To be quite honest, I don’t know what to do. He just comes home and starts playing games on the computer. I bought it to help him with his homework, but truly it has made things worse.”

  “Have you tried to limit his time on the computer? Have you taken away his privileges when he brings home a report card that you find unacceptable?” Kate asked the obvious, standard questions. She didn’t need to be a parent to know about basic discipline.

  “I have tried everything,” Chevy’s mother insisted. “But you know I’m at work a lot of the time. And I just have to count on Chevy to do what he needs to do on his own.”

  Well, that’s not working, Kate wanted to say.

  Mrs. B pointed her pen at Kate. “I would think that you, as the counselor, should have some suggestions for how to work with Chevy.”

  Kate wished she had the nerve to tell her off. Instead she said, “Your idea of moving him to the front row is certainly good.” She looked at the mother. “Is he on any medication?”

  “No, he refuses to take any. Says it makes him tired.”

  “You young counselors are always pushing drugs,” Mrs. B jumped in, like a pit bull. “If you don’t have any good ideas, Mrs. Hopper, I could recommend a book with some techniques for working with ADD students.” The other teachers started to fidget and shuffle their papers.

  Kate’s eyes darted toward Mr. Mohr’s face—his forehead drawn with lines. She swallowed her fury. “I thought it would be helpful to know if he’s on medication, is all.”

  Mrs. Fugate shredded her tissue. “Maybe Chevy would be better off with a more experienced counselor.”

  Kate started to choke on her own saliva. Someone’s cell phone rang and Kate bristled. Everyone looked around until Mr. Mohr pulled the phone out of his pocket and answered it. He stood up and walked out of the room with the phone to his ear.

  Kate swallowed and directed her attention to Mrs. Fugate. Kate had to save this meeting. She had to save her career. “I assure you that I have plenty of experience and I will do everything I can to help Chevy get back on track. In fact, I can meet with him every week to discuss his progress if you’d like.”

  “Well. . . I like that idea. But if his grades don’t improve, we’re switching counselors,” Mrs. Fugate said.

  # # #

  Once home Kate continued to stew about how Mrs. B had tried to make her look bad. Who was she to imply that Kate wasn’t doing her job when she was the one who had done the unforgivable?

  As soon as Mitch walked in the door Kate complained to him about the meeting. “I just can’t believe she had the nerve to question my abilities in front of a parent like that.”

  He reached into the refrigerator and retrieved a Ziploc bag containing two pork chops. “The best offense is a good defense.”

  “Do you think that’s what it was?”

  “Maybe she’s feeling insecure because of the e-mail that former student wrote. She doesn’t know who knows about it and who doesn’t.”

  “Maybe.” Kate pulled the can of breadcrumbs out of the pantry as Monte rubbed up against her leg. “But she has always been mean to me. It seems very personal.”

  Mitch poured the crumbs into the bag containing the chops. He sealed it, then shook it. “Are you sure you’ve never done anything to her?”

  “Positive. I know better than to make a teacher mad.” Looking down at Monte, Kate reached back into the pantry for the foil envelope of kitty treats. Meow. He sat up and begged before Kate dropped the brown triangle into his mouth.

  Mitch let out a heavy sigh.

  Hurt by Mitch’s disinterest, Kate picked up Monte and headed out of the kitchen. There was only one other worthwhile topic besides work in their household these days. She sat on the couch, petting Monte and thinking about how Mitch said he didn’t want their baby raised by strangers. Then it hit her. She turned her head toward the adjacent kitchen. “What if I asked Joely to move to Foxworth?”

  “Why?”

  She hoped he would s
ee how perfect it could be. “So she can watch the baby and I can keep working. Isn’t that a great idea?”

  “I’ll have to think about it.”

  Suddenly Kate felt a sharp pain right between her eyebrows. She pressed two fingers against the spot. They were never going to resolve this. She stood up to get some aspirin.

  “Wait,” Mitch called. “I have something important to tell you.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Mitch stopped breading the pork chops and looked at Kate. “I made an appointment for you to get tested for lupus.”

  “What?” Kate struggled to breathe. He couldn’t do this. She couldn’t do this.

  “With your fear of needles, I figured you would just keep putting it off.”

  “But that’s not your decision to make!” Kate paced back and forth, her hands clenched. She almost tripped over Monte and he bolted out of the room, his tags jingling as he ran.

  Mitch walked closer to Kate. “Your having lupus affects my life, too.”

  She refused to look at him. “I’m well aware of that.” Kate thought of her dad lifting her mom in and out of the tub, helping her get dressed, and feeding her. She cringed at the thought of Mitch having to take care of her like that. “But I’m not ready.”

  “It’s just a simple blood test. We need to find out before we have a baby.”

  “IF” Kate emphasized, making eye contact, “we have a baby. Nothing’s been decided for sure.”

  “You were just talking about having Joely move here to help with the baby. And I always thought the main reason you didn’t want a child was because you were worried about passing on a genetic condition.”

  “Yes, that’s a big part of it.” Kate shook her head, unable to put her emotions into words.

  “The appointment is tomorrow.”

  Kate’s mouth fell open. “Tomorrow?” Then it hit her and she embraced her ready-made excuse. “I can’t. I have a hair appointment.”

  Mitch nodded his head. “I checked your calendar. I’ll meet you at the doctor’s afterward.” He turned back to the kitchen and pulled out a frying pan.