Jane mumbled something that sounded like hello and slouched into one of the maroon chairs, her legs sprawled out in front of her, crossed at the ankles. She glared at her little brother and sister.
“It’s good to see you, Jane.” Beth sat in the other maroon chair.
“Oh, I forgot you got a call earlier,” Craig said to Jane.
“Who?”
“Some boy, I think.”
Jane straightened, leaning forward, trying to appear nonchalant but not quite coming across that way. “You think? Who was it? You know you’re not supposed to answer if you can’t take a message.”
Craig tapped his finger against his chin and rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. “Now, let me see. Bud. No. Brad. No.”
“Dad!” Jane yelled.
Craig snapped his fingers. “I know. It was Sue.”
“Sue! She’s not a boy.”
Craig grinned. “Yeah, I know.”
“Dad!”
Samuel reentered the living room with Aunt Mae behind him. “We have a guest.” He peered at each of his children, ending with Jane. “Remember your manners.”
Listening to the children carry on brought back memories of when Beth had had all her siblings living at home. She had refereed many fights between them and knew exactly what Samuel had to deal with even though she had never been a parent. Those days were over with, had been for the past four years when her sister, Holly, had graduated and left her and Daniel for college.
“I need some help setting the table.”
Beth started to offer, but Aunt Mae pointed to Allie and Craig. “Come on, you two. You need to earn your keep. Wash up before you get the plates.”
After the children left, Aunt Mae said, “I’m glad you could join us this evening, Beth. I’ve heard so much about you. You do quite a bit around the church.”
Beth absolutely hated compliments because she never knew what to do with them. If life were a stage production, her favorite place would be blending in with the scenery. “No more than others do.”
“That’s not what I hear. I know we’re going to get along famously. Dinner’s in ten minutes.” Aunt Mae hurried back into the kitchen as a crash sounded.
Samuel skirted the chair Jane was in to sit on the couch across from his daughter. “I’m glad we have a few minutes alone. Jane, I wanted you to know I signed the papers today for you to be tested. Dr. Simpson said she would be calling you into her office over the next several weeks.”
Jane’s narrowed gaze flitted to Beth, then to her dad. “I can’t miss class.”
Samuel’s eyes widened. “That’s the first time you’ve ever said that. Dr. Simpson assures me she won’t take you from your core classes.”
“I don’t want to miss drawing.” Jane folded her arms over her chest.
Beth was going to break one of her rules and interfere in a family discussion. “Jane, this is important for you. Dr. Simpson may be able to help you. In my class you won’t have to make up any work you miss while she’s testing you. That’s how strongly I feel about the testing.”
Jane shot to her feet, her arms stiff at her sides. “Don’t you two understand? I am not dumb! I will not be tested!” With tears glistening in her eyes, she stormed from the room.
Chapter Four
Samuel stared at the doorway where Jane had disappeared, a frown marring the perfection of his features. “That didn’t go well.”
“No,” Beth answered, uncrossing then crossing her legs again.
He swung his gaze to hers. “Any suggestions?”
The vulnerability evident in Samuel called to her, and she couldn’t resist it. “Let me talk to her. Give me a few minutes.” She rose and started for the stairs.
“Jane’s room is the first one on the left, and thanks.”
She paused at the bottom of the steps and smiled back at him. “You’re welcome, but I haven’t done anything yet.”
Relief lit his eyes. “I’m just glad you’re willing to try, because I’ve run out of things to do.”
Beth made her way up the stairs, not quite sure what to say to Jane. Lord, help me to approach her the right way. Help me to make her understand it’s okay to ask for help, that we all have weaknesses we need to work on.
At the closed door that Beth assumed was Jane’s room, she stared at the dark wood, waiting for some kind of inspiration to strike. She had to reach the teenager or Jane would fail most of her classes.
She knew what it was like.
That was it! Beth had never talked to anyone about her struggles in school, but she was going to talk to Jane. Beth rapped several times on the door.
“Go away! I’m not hungry!” the teenager shouted from inside the room.
“Jane, it’s Miss Coleman. May I have a word with you?” Beth clasped her hands together and rubbed her palms back and forth.
Silence stretched to two minutes. Then three.
Sighing, Beth started to leave.
The door swung open and Jane stood in the entrance. “I don’t need to be tested.”
“May I come in and talk to you?”
Jane hugged the door as if it held her up. “There’s nothing you can say that will make me want to be tested.”
“That may be true, but I still would like to talk to you.” Beth moved toward Jane, and the teenager stepped out of the way and allowed Beth into her room.
Taking in the area before her, Beth noted the neat, organized items on the desk, dresser and bedside tables. No clothes were on the floor and even posters hung on the walls. A forest-green bedspread covered the made bed, which surprised Beth the most. It didn’t look the room of any teenager she knew.
“You could give my brothers and sister lessons on keeping their rooms clean. Most of the time I never saw the floor in my youngest brother’s bedroom. I think Daniel thought the floor was the trash can.” Beth gestured toward the chair at the desk. “May I sit?”
“Sure.” Jane shrugged and sat cross-legged on her bed, her hands grasping her knees.
After easing onto the hard-backed chair, Beth hesitated, not sure where to begin. It was part of her past she didn’t dwell on. Looking at Jane, though, Beth knew that if it helped the young girl, then she had to tell her.
“Jane, when I was growing up, for years I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I struggled to read, and had to memorize every word. I couldn’t sound out words like the other kids. My spelling was awful. Again, because I had to memorize everything. Thankfully I was determined to read, but it didn’t come easily to me, especially when confronted with new words.”
Jane averted her gaze, dropping her head and rubbing her hands down her jeans.
In her lap Beth laced her fingers, their tips turning red from her tight grip. “The day my mother decided to take me to a specialist to have me tested was the best day of my life. I finally got the help I needed. Of course, at the time I didn’t think it was a good thing. I was angry at my mother. I didn’t want the kids to think I was different, dumb. I even told my mom I wouldn’t do what the lady asked me to do.” Beth paused, waiting to see if Jane would say anything.
The teenager remained quiet with her head down, her hands continuing to rub her jeans.
Drawing in a fortifying breath, Beth offered up a silent prayer for help, then said, “The other students don’t have to know you’re being tested. This is between you and Dr. Simpson. No one else.”
Jane finally lifted her head, tears shining in her eyes. “What if they want me to be in those classes?”
“Special education classes?”
Jane nodded.
“I don’t see a need for that. You’re very smart. You just need to learn some compensating skills. Once we find out why exactly you’re having problems, then we can come up with ways to level the playing field for you in your classes. Make things a little easier for you.”
A tear rolled down Jane’s face. She scrubbed it away. “I don’t want to be different.”
“We’re all different. Everyone
has strengths and weaknesses. Every child in the school. Some can draw like you. Others can do math as well as you. You could probably tutor some of your classmates in math. Please let us try to help you.”
Another tear, then another coursed down Jane’s cheeks. “I’m not dumb. I know how to read.”
“I never said you didn’t. But when you write, you’re struggling and it takes you a lot longer to read the passages. When I’m lecturing, you aren’t taking notes. Why is that, Jane?”
The teenager bit down on her bottom lip for a few seconds, then said, “Because I can’t keep up with what you’re saying. So what’s the use?” Glaring at Beth, she uncrossed her legs and shoved herself to her feet. “Fine. Go ahead and test me.”
Beth rose. “Remember, Jane, I have a master’s degree in English and if I can do it, so can you. Anything is possible, but when you need help, you need to learn to accept it.” Just as she had finally, with a great deal of patience from the lady who had tutored her during elementary and junior high school. She hoped Jane wasn’t as stubborn as she had been.
“We’ll see.”
Beth headed for the door. “I bet dinner is ready by now. Are you coming down?” She took a deep breath of the air peppered with the scent of spices, bread and meat. “It sure smells wonderful.”
“I guess so.”
Jane followed Beth down the stairs. She felt the teenager’s gaze on her the whole way to the living room where Samuel waited. His hopeful look greeted Beth and his daughter.
“Jane has agreed to the testing,” Beth said, praying the girl didn’t back out.
The teenager remained silent.
Relief washed over his features. “I’m glad, Jane.” Samuel rose. “Aunt Mae says dinner is ready. I think Allie and Craig are already at the table, chomping at the bit to eat.”
“They’re always hungry,” Jane muttered as she moved toward the dining room.
Beth started toward the room, too. Samuel reached out and stopped her with a hand on her arm. She glanced back, very aware that his touch did odd things to her pulse rate.
“How did you get her to agree?” he asked, his voice pitched low.
“I told her about my learning problem in school.” It wasn’t something she easily shared with others because of the painful memories of her struggles, but it felt right with Samuel—and Jane. Maybe her hardship while growing up would help the teenager cope with her own problem.
“Thank you. This is one father who is grateful for any help he can get.”
“Dad, I’m starved. C’mon!”
Samuel chuckled. “Craig’s always impatient.”
Beth entered the dining room one step ahead of Samuel. A large oblong oak table with six chairs dominated the room. Four people, seated with napkins in their laps, looked expectantly at them.
“Daddy, can I say grace tonight?”
“Sure, Allie.” Samuel pulled out the chair next to his at the head of the table and waited for Beth to be seated before scooting it forward.
When he took his place he bowed his head, which was Allie’s signal to say, “God bless this food and help me to get invited to Sally Ann’s party next weekend. Amen.”
Beth smiled as she lifted her head.
“Who’s Sally Ann?” Samuel asked, shaking out his cloth napkin and laying it in his lap.
“The most popular girl in my class. I’ve got to be invited!”
“We just moved here, honey. She may not have had a chance to get to know you yet.”
“All the girls are getting invited. If I’m left out, no one will like me.”
“Dad, can you pass the roast beef?” Craig asked, squirming around in his chair as though it were on fire.
Samuel looked down at the platter next to his plate and said, “Sorry.” He took two slices of the meat and passed it to Beth, who was next to Craig. “Allie, they will like you. Just give them time to get to know you.”
“If we didn’t move around so much…” Jane let the rest of her sentence trail off into silence while she stared at her empty plate, ignoring the meat being passed around the table.
Samuel started the potatoes, then the carrots. “Hopefully that will change now that I’m out of the army, Jane.”
“Good, Daddy. I’m tired of havin’ to make new friends all the time.” Allie scooped several potatoes onto her plate and only one small carrot.
Beth listened to the exchange at the table and remembered the days she’d had her sister and brothers at home and they had sat down to eat dinner. Some of their conversations had been lively. Now when she ate dinner the house was quiet. She often found herself with the radio on in the kitchen while she ate, because she still wasn’t used to all that silence.
Jane filled her plate with the vegetables and said, “I have decided to become a vegetarian.”
“Since when?” Aunt Mae asked, passing the rolls around the table.
“Since now. In biology today we saw a film on the meat packing industry. Yuck! You should have seen how—”
“I don’t think we should discuss that at the table, Jane. We have a guest, remember?”
“I want to hear about it.”
“Not now, Craig.”
The firmness in Samuel’s voice, accompanied by a frown on his face, emphasized the subject was to be dropped. Beth thought back to some of the topics her siblings had tried to discuss while eating. Thankfully she’d developed a stomach lined with iron.
For a good minute silence ruled at the table while everyone ate, their attention totally focused on their plates.
Beth took a bite of the roast beef, so tender she could cut it with her fork. “Mmm. Mae, this is delicious. Every year the women at church put out a recipe book in conjunction with the ladies’ retreat. You should contribute this recipe.”
“When do they do it?”
“In the fall. In fact, they’ll need a person to put it together this year, since I’ll be leaving and won’t be able to.” Beth hadn’t thought about that job until she’d mentioned it to Mae. She really needed to sit down and make a list of the tasks she did at church and school and make sure someone else was lined up to do them.
Jane pinned her full attention on Beth. “You’re leaving? When?”
The tone in Jane’s voice chilled Beth. The expression on the teenager’s face made Beth feel as though she had betrayed her. “Not until this summer. I’d never leave in the middle of the school year.”
Some of the hostility evaporated as Jane looked away and picked at her potatoes with her fork. “Oh.”
“I’m getting the impression you do a lot around the church.” Samuel took a sip of his water.
“I like to be kept busy.”
“As I’ve told Samuel before, working is good, but you also have to learn to play, too.” Mae reached for another roll in the basket, sliced it and slathered butter on it.
“Yeah, I like to play,” Craig chimed in.
“Me, too. Can I go play now, Daddy?” Allie hopped up.
Samuel lifted his hand, palm outward. “Hold it. We have company and not everyone is through with dinner yet.”
Allie plopped back into the chair. “Sorry. I forgot.”
“So what do you like to play with?” Beth asked, liking Samuel’s youngest daughter, who was so full of energy. Beth wished she had half of it to help her get through a Friday night. Weariness nibbled at her, her shoulders aching, exhaustion stinging her eyes.
“Dolls. Daddy built me a playhouse and furniture for it. Do you want to see it?”
“I would love to, after dinner.”
Allie grinned.
“How about you, Craig? What do you like to play with?”
“My Game Boy.”
“My brother, Daniel, likes to do that, too.”
“How old is he?”
“Nineteen. In the past few years, though, he doesn’t play like he used to.” Beth turned to Jane. “What do you like to do with your free time?”
She shrugged. “Listen to music. Draw.
”
“She drew me once. I have it up in my room. I can show you that, too.” Allie gulped down the last of her milk.
“How about you, Beth?”
She looked toward Samuel and said, “Read whenever I get the chance. I’ve even started writing a bit. Short stories. That kind of thing.”
“So you do have free time.”
“Some. More now that my sister and brothers are gone.” When she said the last sentence, something nagged at her. She should be celebrating that fact, but she wasn’t. For years she had wanted more time for herself, and now she wasn’t so sure that was really what she wanted. Maybe she was suffering from empty nest syndrome.
Samuel watched Beth stoop on the floor of Allie’s bedroom and look inside the two-story Victorian dollhouse he had designed and built for his daughter over the previous year. It had been a kind of therapy for him and now that it was complete, he needed another project. He liked working with his hands. Maybe another dollhouse for the big Fourth of July auction the church always had for the outreach program.
“This is wonderful, Samuel. You’re very talented.”
“My daddy is the best.” With her chin lifted at a proud angle, Allie stood next to Beth. “I helped Aunt Mae sew the curtains and bedspreads.”
“You’ve thought of everything a home should have.” Beth caressed the white cat curled by the fireplace with glowing logs in its grate. “Who painted the fireplace, the scenes out the windows?”
“Jane. Isn’t she good?” Allie ran her finger across one large window that depicted a meadow scene with yellow, red and purple wildflowers growing abundantly in its field.
“Yes. I especially like her portrait of you over your bed.” Gesturing toward the framed pen-and-ink picture of Allie that Jane had drawn, Beth pushed to her feet. “This was a family project, then?”
“Yeah, even Craig helped Daddy with sanding. He’s learning to use Daddy’s tools.”
Beth turned to Samuel. “You have a workshop?”
“I did. I don’t have one set up yet here.”
“I imagine the basement could serve as a workshop. If I remember correctly, it’s pretty big and only has the furnace and laundry room. They don’t take up even half the space.”
Gold in the Fire and Light in the Storm Page 24
