“’Kay,” Josie called, walking slowly in the opposite direction.
Kelsey tried not to wish that she could go with her.
“CAN I SPEAK with you a minute, Ms. Foster?”
Turning from the blackboard where she was writing the next day’s date and the cafeteria lunch menu, Meredith smiled at the woman standing in the doorway of her classroom.
She pulled her short red tunic jacket down over her navy slacks. “Ms. Hamilton, of course, please come in.”
Bonnie Hamilton, mother of eight-year-old Eric, had helped out in the classroom during all the holiday parties. She’d made some killer sugar cookies for Valentine’s Day.
“I’m sorry to bother you after school. I know you must be tired, but Eric has Cubs on Thursdays and I wanted a chance to speak with you in private.” Bonnie Hamilton looked closer to sixteen than twenty-seven in her tight-fitting jeans, sweater and cowboy boots, with her long blond hair hanging loose.
“No problem,” Meredith said, pulling an adult-sized chair away from the multipurpose table along the computer wall and motioning for the other woman to do the same. She hoped she wasn’t walking into more trouble. “I’m here for at least an hour after class most afternoons, just for this reason,” she told her visitor.
Eric’s dad, a farmer who’d married a woman half his age, obviously adored his wife as much as she adored him. People enjoyed just being around them.
Meredith smiled now, trying and failing to think of any problems Eric had been having. Either in school or out.
Not that she was looking for trouble.
She’d practically held her breath all the way to school that morning and had taught with half an ear on the loudspeaker in her room, expecting a summons—trouble resulting from the previous night’s news show. But though the day had prompted plenty of remarks from her colleagues who’d seen her on the news and needed to tell her about it, she hadn’t seen or heard from Mark all day.
And most of the feedback had been positive—or at least teasing in a friendly manner.
“What’s up?” she prompted, as Bonnie appeared to be content to sit quietly until it was time for her to pick up her son.
“Well, it’s just that… I don’t quite know how to say this.”
The woman’s gaze lowered and Meredith’s stomach sank. If Eric’s dad was going to insist on pulling him out of her class, others would follow. She’d already lost one student this week. Many more and she’d be done, without Mark having to fire her.
“I’ve found that it’s best just to get it out,” she said, preparing herself to be kind, supportive. To focus on what was best for Eric.
Bonnie glanced up, her blue eyes wide and filled with fear, but also with anticipation. “I need your help.”
That didn’t sound bad—unless she had to help convince Roy Hamilton to keep his son in her class. “What can I do?”
“I need to know whether or not to have another baby.”
Meredith sat back. “Excuse me?”
“I need you to go wherever you go to find out stuff about people and tell me if I should have another baby,” Bonnie said, her eyes begging Meredith even more than her words had done. “I wouldn’t ask but I’m at my wit’s end, Ms. Foster. I want a baby so badly it’s on my mind practically all the time. I see other women with babies and I feel cheated. I think about never being pregnant again, never feeling those little feet and hands sliding around inside me, never breast-feeding…”
“What does your doctor say?” Meredith asked, even though what she wanted to do was grab her bag and go home.
Bonnie blinked. “Nothing. Why?”
“I assumed, since there’s some question about this, that you’d been in consultation with your doctor.”
“Oh!” Bonnie shook her head. “No. I’m sure I’m fine there,” she said. “It’s Roy. He says he’s too old to go through all of that again. But he’s only forty-five, Ms. Foster, and I just know that once he held our baby in his arms he’d be just as thrilled as I would be.”
“Bonnie,” Meredith said, feeling older than both Hamiltons at the moment. “I’m your son’s third-grade teacher, not a counselor. I can’t possibly give you advice in this situation.”
And then Meredith stopped herself—before she did just that. Not because she could feel anything. She wasn’t tuned in to Bonnie, didn’t intend to tune in, couldn’t tune in right now. But because the answer just appeared to be so obvious.
“But you have to!” The young woman leaned closer, touching Meredith’s leg. “I saw you on the news last night and I knew, right then, that you were on TV for a reason. It was a message to me to come to you for my answer. See, I’m all out of pills, so if I’m going to do this, now would be the time.”
Moving her leg out of the other woman’s reach, Meredith focused on staying in her chair and getting through this calmly, rather than giving in to the sense of profound discomfort that was pushing at her.
“What does your husband say?”
“I’m not telling him.” Bonnie flopped back against the seat, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “He’d say no for sure. That’s the point, Ms. Foster. I need to know whether or not I should just quit taking the pills and let him think it was an accident. Because I can tell you, I’m not going to be happy with him for the rest of my life if he robs me of this chance.”
The young woman needed counseling. Or at least she needed to grow up a bit.
“I know you can do this for me, Ms. Foster. Just take a quick peek and tell me what you see.”
And if I don’t? Do I have another angry person out to get me?
“It’s not that I don’t want to help you,” Meredith said slowly, breathing deeply, pulling her ponytail over one shoulder. “It’s just that I can’t. I’m not a psychic and I have no way of knowing what your future holds.”
“But you said last night…”
“That sometimes—only sometimes—I can feel what other people are currently feeling.”
For the most part. But she didn’t need to go into that.
“Then ‘feel’ Roy,” the woman said quickly. “Tell me if he’ll divorce me if he ever finds out I tricked him.”
Meredith paused, tired, unsure how to extricate herself without damaging future relations with the mother of her student. And then she realized that she simply had to live as she always did, true to what she knew, regardless of the consequence. “I can’t, Bonnie. I’m sorry, but I can’t trespass on your husband’s privacy that way.”
She’d promised herself long ago that she wasn’t going to intrude at will. She’d take things as they were given to her. Period. She wasn’t even sure she had the ability to do that anymore.
The woman’s shoulders dropped and all sparkle left her eyes. “I don’t understand,” she said. “I was so sure you were my answer.”
Your answer is no, Meredith wanted to say. Dishonesty, trickery, is seldom the best choice.
“I wish I could help.”
Bonnie stood. “Well, thanks anyway.”
Meredith nodded from her seat, too weary to get up and walk Eric’s mother to the door. She was just as exhausted half an hour later when she arrived home to find twelve messages on her machine from people she’d never heard of, all with similar requests. Oh, not about babies, but with pleas to help them with some decision—job, marriage, children—as if she were their last resort.
Twelve messages, because that was all her machine would take.
Meredith didn’t feel like a teacher at that moment. Or a daughter. Or a friend. She felt like a freak.
ON FRIDAY AFTERNOON, Mark wandered down to Meredith’s classroom—timing his visit to coincide with her planning period. He stood unnoticed in the doorway for a full minute, watching as she stapled colorful artwork of varying degrees of proficiency onto the bulletin board. The assignment must have been spring—he guessed by the colors—and he could tell one thing for sure. At Lincoln Elementary, students had a vast array of opinions, vivid imaginations
and different ways of expressing themselves.
Not bad.
Nor were Meredith’s legs. Long, slender. Exposed by the short denim skirt she was wearing with a long-sleeved yellow blouse that was a perfect backdrop for the cascade of red-gold hair she’d left loose.
“Oh, Mr. Shepherd. I didn’t see you there.” She came down off her toes and turned, smoothing her skirt.
And Mark gave his libido a mental shake. He was alive, human, he was going to notice women. Had been doing so quite regularly since puberty.
Just not this woman.
“I should’ve said something.” Not that. It indicated that he’d been there long enough to have spoken up.
“I was just hanging these,” she said, not quite meeting his eyes as she pointed to the papers lining the wall. “Is there a problem?”
He hated the hunted look in her eyes—even knowing that she had, at least in part, brought it on herself. “Not really,” he replied, still standing in the doorway. “I wanted to let you know that while we’ve received a few calls as a result of the news show two days ago, they’ve almost all been calls of support.”
“Thank you.” There was little sign of emotion on her face, as if she’d closed herself off from him. Was she that way with everyone? He tried to picture her with Kelsey or Susan.
“How about you? Did you get any response?” he asked.
“Some,” she said, folding her arms in front of her. “People here commented, but I think more because they’d seen me on TV than because of anything I said.”
“You’ve worked here a long time. They know you—and respect you.”
As he did. But as her boss, he was in a more precarious position. He couldn’t let her go around breaking rules, upsetting parents, regardless of her motivation.
“So all else was quiet?”
“Pretty much.”
Not entirely. He wondered what that meant. Wanted to push, but knew her well enough to be certain that it wouldn’t do any good.
“I, uh, also…” He stepped into the room completely and shut the door behind him. “I wanted to make sure that you’re okay with the plans for this weekend. It’s not too late to change them, if you decide you don’t want Kelsey spending the night.” She stood in the front of the bulletin board, looking beautiful—and somewhat defenseless surrounded by the artwork of eight-year-olds. “If something’s come up that you’d rather do…”
Policy allowed them to socialize outside school, as long as they didn’t date. But that didn’t mean he should take her time for granted.
“There’s nothing I can think of that I’d rather do than spend tonight with Kelsey,” she told him, her voice strong and clear.
Mark rocked back on his heels, sliding his hands into the pockets of his slacks, trying not to feel quite so pleased and…relieved…at her response.
“She’s looking forward to it,” he said, not ready to turn around and leave this room, which thanks to Meredith Foster was as much a safe haven as it was a place of learning. “And I am grateful.”
“I understand.” She smiled. “You and Susan deserve some time away—and alone. I hope you guys have a great evening.”
So did he. But that wasn’t what he meant. “I’m grateful to have someone who shares my enthusiasm for time spent with my daughter,” he remarked, though he supposed it would have been better to keep his honesty to himself.
“Susan loves being with her.”
“Susan loves her,” he corrected. “And she wants very much to get along with her. But Kelsey makes it a little difficult for Susan to be comfortable doing that. I wouldn’t feel all that enthusiastic about it myself, if all I knew of Kelsey was what I see when Susan’s around.”
“That’ll change.”
“I know that.” He was counting on it. “But in the meantime, it’s good to have someone else out there who cares about her and whom Kelsey responds to.”
She nodded, smiled. A real smile that reached her eyes. And reached him. “I can’t imagine how tough it is being a single dad to a little girl.”
He shrugged. Grinned. “Sometimes it’s not hard at all.” Then he grew serious again. “And sometimes, more so lately, it’s like walking around in an unfamiliar, pitch-black room. You never know when you’re about to take a misstep, what you’re going to crash into or when you might fall.”
“Sounds like teaching.” She came closer, leaned against one of the students’ desks, legs crossed in front of her, hands propped on the wood behind her. “Was her mother active in raising her at the beginning?”
Funny how, because he had a child, his personal life wasn’t so personal.
“Very,” he told Meredith. “Kelsey was pretty much her entire life. She never left her with a sitter or even sent her to preschool. Which is part of the reason it was such a shock when she abandoned us.”
“Susan says she didn’t even try to get partial custody.”
“Nope.” He shook his head, thrown momentarily back to the time of disbelief and confusion that had consumed him those first months after Barbie’s departure. “She never tried to see her again.”
“Odd for a women who cared so much.”
Yeah, well, Barbie had had problems. “Anyway, I just wanted to ask…” He started again. “If Kelsey says anything that suggests I’m not doing something I should be, please let me know.”
“Mark, you’re a good father,” she told him easily. “I doubt that she’s going to say anything beyond which boy Josie thinks is cute, which usually means she does, too, or how badly she wants something you won’t buy for her. But if she does, you’ll hear about it.”
He nodded, frowning. “I’m not asking you to betray her confidences.”
“Hey,” she interrupted. “I’m a teacher, remember? I know the fine line we tread when we’re caring for other people’s children—and earning and deserving the trust of the children, too. If Kelsey tells me she has a crush on someone, I’m keeping that to myself. If she tells me something you need to know to keep her safe, healthy and happy, that goes straight to you. Her welfare comes first. Always.”
He should go. He had what he’d come for, for the most part.
“And…uh…with, you know, female stuff.” He cocked his head and tried for nonchalance.
“What about it?”
“She gave me some speech earlier this week about growing up and talking ‘girl stuff.’ I just… If she asks, you’re okay to answer her?”
Meredith burst out laughing. And somehow Mark was smiling, too.
“Are you asking me if I know the answers, Shepherd?”
“No, of course not,” he assured her quickly. Then added, “Well, maybe. Which is entirely ludicrous considering the fact that you spend your days with thirty curious children.”
“Third-graders aren’t all that interested in reproduction,” she told him. “And I don’t think Kelsey is, either. It’s a bit early for her to want to know. But if she does, I think I can remember what my mother told me, even though that was a really long time ago.”
If her tone of voice hadn’t made it perfectly clear that she was teasing him, her ear-to-ear grin did. He was trying to be sensitive, responsible, and she was making fun of him. He should probably take offense.
“It’s okay, Mark,” she said softly, before he could decide how to respond. “If Kelsey asks about her body, I’ll answer her—and I’ll tell you what I told her. I know we purposely leave these things to parents at this age, and then to health class after that, but I’m comfortable speaking with her if the need arises.”
“Thank you.” His gaze couldn’t leave hers.
“You’re welcome.”
Voices in the hall startled him. Meredith glanced toward the door just as it flew open and a flock of energetic eight-year-olds came pouring in from their reading class, filling the room with so much noise he could almost convince himself that a very dangerous moment had not just taken place there.
Almost, but not quite.
“KELSEY?�
�� Barbie stared out the car window at trees covered with spring blossoms, believing in happiness. She adored these times, when life held promise. When she could feel so good. Kelsey snuggled against her, seeming as happy as she was just to be close. Nothing else had ever felt quite as wonderful as having her little girl’s weight against her.
“Yeah?” Her daughter’s eyes weren’t as easy to read as they’d been when she was five. Or two. But still, as Kelsey tilted her head back to look up, she could see love in the little girl’s eyes.
“I’m sorry about yesterday,” she said. “I’m sorry I called you away from your friend.”
“It’s okay,” Kelsey said. “I get to be with her every day.”
God, that sounded good. Like Kelsey wanted to be with her every day, too.
“I’m sorry I was grouchy.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t want to go to your house, Mom. I will next week, I promise.”
“It’s okay, honey. You just don’t know Don, yet, but when you do, you’ll see that he’s the best. He’ll treat you like a queen.”
She hoped. He was good to her. Understood her. Put up with her even when she was down, without making her feel like a failure. No one had ever done that before.
Except Kelsey.
“I’m thinking about seeing a lawyer,” she said now, her stomach a little tense as she took this chance. What if Kelsey didn’t want to be with her? Barbie could probably still get visitation rights. She was her mother, after all, and had never abused her or done anything to hurt her. Don said she’d have no trouble proving it.
But if Kelsey didn’t want her…
“What for?”
“What would you think about you and me being together, legally?”
Kelsey pulled back, her sweet expression concerned but not appalled. “What about Daddy?”
Barbie almost lost it then, had to count to ten and think about the trees to keep from snapping at her daughter. The thought of Mark Shepherd still did that to her. The man shouldn’t have given up on her. All of this was his fault.
But Don said she wouldn’t have him if Mark hadn’t let her go and he was right about that. Remembering that she’d much rather be with Don allowed her to continue.
A Child's Wish Page 7
