Need You Now

by Beth Wiseman

  “Brad, this is going to be so perfect for me. It’s working with special needs children. It’s a very small school, only seven students right now, and there is a lady named Myrna who runs it. Her granddaughter is a student there. She’s autistic.”

  Brad nodded as he swallowed. “Are all the kids autistic?”

  “No. But they are all challenged in some way. One of the girls is Grace’s age, and . . .” Darlene paused as she took a deep breath. “She has the mind of a four-year-old. I met her today. Her name is Mindy. And I met another girl named Tina who is also emotionally challenged.”

  “So you’ll be working with the kids?”

  “Yes. I’ll actually be working directly with a little girl named Cara. She’s twelve and autistic. But she’s high-functioning, meaning she can talk, just not a lot, and she’s easily distracted.” Darlene smiled. “I don’t know much yet, but I met her briefly today, and she’s a lovely girl.”

  “But you don’t have a degree or experience.” Brad looked up from his plate and wished right away that he hadn’t made the remark. His wife bit her bottom lip and stared at her plate. “I’m sure you’ll be great at it, babe. I’m just surprised that you don’t need a degree.”

  “It’s just an entry-level aide position,” she said as she picked at her food. Brad could have kicked himself. Then she looked up, lifted her eyes to his. “I’m so excited about it, though.”

  “I’m excited too.” He smiled broadly at her. “I think it’s great. It’s what you wanted, and you’ll be able to meet more people in the community.” Glad he hadn’t hurt her feelings too badly, he reached for another roll. “So how often do you go in— one or two days a week?”

  “Every day.”

  Brad stopped chewing. “For how many hours?”

  “Eight to five.”

  “I thought you were looking for a part-time job, Dar. Eight to five?”

  “I know I should have talked to you before I accepted the job.” She squeezed her eyes closed for a moment, then looked up at him. “But I really want to do this. I know it’s a lot to take on, but it’s right down the road. I’ll still have time to make dinner for everyone when I get home, and . . . maybe I’ll learn . . . you know . . .” She shrugged, then started picking at her food again. “How to deal with Ansley better sometimes.”

  Brad stiffened. There wasn’t anything wrong with Ansley. “I don’t think you can compare Ansley to the kids at that school.”

  “I’m not comparing, just saying that sometimes I don’t understand what’s going on in Ansley’s head is all.”

  Brad pushed his critical thoughts aside and refocused on his wife’s new endeavor. He had plenty of friends whose wives worked full-time jobs and tended families, and he’d heard their mixed reviews. He put his fork down and looked up at Darlene, her beautiful eyes longing for his approval. “I think you will be the best teacher in the world. I think all the students will love you. And I think that school is blessed that you walked in their door.”

  Her face lit up instantly. “Thank you, Brad.”

  “When do you start?”

  “A week from Monday. And I don’t have to dress up or anything. Just jeans or Capri pants. Very casual.”

  “My wife, the working girl. Guess you’ve already been doing it for years. You just didn’t get paid for it before.” Brad smiled. Darlene had always been a homemaker, and although he found it challenging to be as excited as his wife, her happiness was the most important thing. Her life revolved around the kids, and she’d always said that’s what fulfilled her, but he supposed she needed more—or something different—these days. He missed the early part of their marriage, when her life revolved around him. It was a selfish feeling, and given the chance to steal her away from their children, he would have declined. But now, as she shared this news, he couldn’t help but worry their time together as a couple would be rarer than ever. He’d pray about that later. For now, he was going to enjoy the chicken spaghetti . . . and the way his wife was playfully batting her eyes at him from the other end of the table.

  He ate faster.

  On the morning of her big day, Darlene climbed out of bed the same time as Brad. She wanted to get ready for her first day of work and still have time to make breakfast for the kids. Brad usually just ate a banana or muffin en route to Houston.

  As she curled the ends of her hair, Brad brushed his teeth in the sink next to hers. She hoped he was on board with her new job. Over the last week, she’d sensed that he was worried about the time commitment, even though he did his best to assure her otherwise. Darlene was worried about the time she’d be away from home also. She’d made arrangements with the school for Ansley to have a tutor work with her for an extra hour each day since Darlene wouldn’t be home to help her with her homework after school.

  “I should be home by five fifteen, in plenty of time to straighten things up and make dinner, and if—”

  “Darlene . . .” He spit toothpaste in the sink, then turned to face her. “It’s gonna be fine. The kids are older now, and you need to make them help out more anyway.” He kissed her on the cheek. “This is important to you, and we will all get by just fine.”

  She’d been with Brad since she was eighteen years old. He knew her. Really knew her. And sometimes she suspected he said exactly what he thought she wanted to hear. But this morning, she’d take it. She was nervous enough without having to worry about her household falling apart because she went to work. And Brad was right; the kids did need to help out more.

  “Thank you for saying that.”

  He pulled a shirt from a hanger and slipped it on. Buttoning up, he turned to her. “If having some extra spending money will make you happy, then I’m happy. So don’t worry about things around here.”

  They’d always stayed on a fairly strict budget, so having some money that wasn’t included in those numbers would be a nice perk. “It’s not just that. I’ll be able to meet some new people too. You have friends at your office, and I’d like to have some relationships outside of just . . .” She turned off her curling iron, put it on the counter, and shrugged. “You know what I mean.”

  Brad nodded. “I get it. Really. We’ll make some adjustments. And when I get home tonight, I want to hear all about your first day.”

  She still felt the need to justify, if not to Brad, to herself. “My first month’s salary will be enough to repair the roof over Ansley’s room.”

  “Honey, I’ll take care of that.” He sat down on the bed and put on his socks and shoes. “Use the money you make at your job to buy something for you.”

  She’d never spent much money on herself for clothes, shoes, or personal items. Always on the kids or the house. Not to say she’d let herself go—she’d like to think not. But a variety of nice clothes hadn’t seemed essential, even when they were in Houston. “Maybe,” she said as she slipped into a pair of black slacks and a white blouse. All her blue jeans were a little too ragged to feel comfortable wearing to work. Maybe that would be first on her shopping list. New jeans.

  Brad stood and smiled at her. “Okay, knock ’em dead. I love you.” He kissed her and hurried out of the room.

  A few minutes later, she was downstairs heating up some leftover blueberry muffins.

  “Guess this is what we have to look forward to from now on,” Chad said as he eased into a chair at the table. “Leftovers.” He chuckled.

  “You look nice, Mom.” Ansley slid in beside her brother, cutting her eyes at him.

  “Thank you, Ansley. Where’s Grace?” Darlene put a tub of butter on the table.

  “Here I am.” Grace walked into the room and slipped into a chair before reaching for a muffin. Darlene noticed her Capri jeans and brown, long-sleeved shirt but decided not to say anything. When the temperatures hit a hundred degrees in another month or two, she was sure Grace would opt for cooler blouses.

  Darlene put her hands on her hips. “Now, listen. I don’t want this house a wreck when I get home. You’re all going t
o be home almost two hours before me, so pick up after yourselves. And I’ve left a list of weekly chores on the refrigerator, things like running the sweeper, dusting, stripping your beds, and such.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Chad said with his mouth full, his dark wavy hair brushing the top of his shoulders.

  Ignoring his comment, Darlene said, “And, Chad, you need a haircut.” She picked up her purse and keys from the counter. “Ansley, don’t forget to feed your chickens when you get home from school.”

  “I hope they lay eggs soon!”

  Darlene smiled, knowing how happy Ansley was that her father stayed true to his promise and bought her four laying hens over the weekend. And one rooster. “I’m sure they will.”

  “Good luck today, Mom.” Ansley stood up and hugged her. Chad ate another muffin.

  “Grace, you need anything?”

  “No, Mom. I’m fine.” Grace tucked a strand of long hair behind her ear. Unlike Ansley, who liked her hair cropped at the shoulders, Grace’s hair was almost to her waist.

  Darlene let out a heavy sigh. “Okay, then, I’m off. See you all after work.” It sounded nice—off to work, but she wished the butterflies in her stomach would take a rest.

  Grace carried her lunch to the same table she did every day, the one closest to the band hall, the table designated for popular girls, seating for eight. She’d sat with a similar group when she lived in Houston, although their spot at her old school consisted of two tables pushed together for a group of twenty of her friends, guys and girls. Grace had always sat next to Tristan.

  She pushed her tater tots around on her plate as the other girls settled into conversation. Nikki talked about going to the senior prom with Dwayne, Glenda asked to borrow Missy’s homework, and Jill talked about her prizewinning pig. Although there were many similarities between these girls and Grace’s friends in Houston, there were also some distinct differences. Even though Round Top girls got pedicures and enjoyed a trip to the mall, they were also capable of riding horses and raising pigs. Most of them had been on a coyote hunt at some point in their lives and were familiar with the term cow tipping. Grace still didn’t know what that was.

  These girls were all pretty, sought after by the jocks, and in some cases, above doing their own homework. Grace didn’t feel like she belonged in the group, but she’d been recruited. Why argue?

  Glenda finished copying Missy’s math assignment, then leaned across the table, motioning with her finger for Grace to come closer. Grace leaned over her lunch plate as she strained to hear.

  “Carter Fritsch is planning to ask you to prom.” Glenda’s brown eyes bored into Grace’s, conviction in her tone, as if this news might cure world hunger or at least save Grace from the dreaded fate of not being invited to the senior prom this year. Grace was only a sophomore, but everyone in the school was vying for a spot. And with only twenty-six boys graduating, only twenty-six lucky girls from all four grades would be chosen.

  She thought about Tristan and wondered who he was taking to the prom. In Houston, more than one thousand students would be graduating from her old school, Tristan included. She’d had several of her old friends ask her to attend the ceremony, but she wasn’t planning to go. That life was behind her, and visiting would only stir up painful reminders. The day Tristan broke up with her, he’d said, “It’s just not working out, Grace. I think we should see other people.” She’d tried to reassure him that they would still see and talk to each other after she moved to Round Top, but Tristan had responded, “It’s not just that, Grace. I think you have some problems too. You know, like . . . maybe you need to get some help or something.”

  Grace had thought Tristan understood her.

  She’d been told all her life that she was pretty, but didn’t one single person understand that looks don’t give you a rite of passage into happiness? Grace hurt all the time. Sometimes the ache inside was almost too much to bear.

  “Did you hear me?” Glenda sat back and folded her arms across the table. “If I wasn’t going with Jake, I’d almost be upset about this.”

  “I can’t go, even if he asks.” Grace forced a tater tot into her mouth and chewed, hoping Glenda’s comeback wouldn’t cause her to choke. She swallowed, then looked up at Glenda, whose jaw hung low.

  “Are you kidding me? Everyone wants to go with Carter.”

  Grace knew she couldn’t even consider the idea. “I’ll be in Houston that weekend. It’s something that’s been planned for months.”

  “What?”

  Grace shrugged, not expecting Glenda to push the issue so hard. “Some of my parents’ friends, they have this thing, a party . . . every year.”

  Glenda unfolded her arms and started drumming her fingers on the table. “You’ll be the only one at this table not going with someone to the senior prom.”

  “I know. I hate that it’s the same weekend.” Grace cringed, knowing her lies only fueled her misery. Her heart ached the way it always did when she didn’t tell the truth. She often wondered if it was God’s way of letting her know He was onto her.

  Glenda nodded to her right as Skylar Brown walked by their table carrying her lunch tray. She was the only girl in their small school who dressed gothic. Black shoes, black jeans, and a black, long-sleeved shirt. “I bet she’d love to go to prom with Carter.” Glenda grunted. “Like that would ever happen.”

  Grace watched Skylar for a few moments. She was pretty enough, even with her dark eye makeup and jet-black hair, but Skylar looked more out of place here in the country than she would have at a big school in the city. Grace remembered her first day of school. She didn’t have a pencil to take notes in math class. Skylar was sitting next to her and quietly handed her a pencil, never even looking at her. It was a simple gesture, but it stuck with Grace. Skylar glanced in Grace’s direction, and Grace quickly pulled her eyes away.

  Glenda went on talking about what a mistake it would be not to go to prom with Carter, but her words blurred together as Grace’s mind drifted. So many things were wrong with the world. Grace’s stomach churned, her heart ached. She knew she had a great family, that Tristan wasn’t worth the grief she’d invested in the breakup. But still, she felt unsettled all the time, like a top spinning, faster and faster, vivid colors dancing in her head.

  Tops fall over eventually.

  The bell rang, and Grace was glad to walk away from Glenda and the rest of the girls. It took everything she had to pretend she was like them. She knew she looked the part, except that most of the other girls were sporting sleeveless or short-sleeved shirts. Grace knew she couldn’t get away with the long-sleeved shirts for much longer.

  As she walked down the crowded hallway to class, she thought again about what Tristan had told her when they broke up. She shifted her books on her hip and shook her head. Everyone has problems, not just me.

  Tristan was wrong. Grace knew her troubles weren’t anything she couldn’t handle on her own.

  Lifting her chin, she made up her mind. She was going to change. Starting today.

  Chapter Four

  Darlene spent the morning with Myrna, touring the facility and meeting the other four employees.

  She’d already met Lindsey during her first visit to the school. Though only eighteen years old, she ran the front office. Myrna said she was proficient and also had a vested interest in the school. Her seven-year-old sister was a student there. There were three other teachers who worked with the students. Two of them had teaching degrees and were recent college graduates. The third teacher was older, maybe Darlene’s age, and she had degrees in psychology and teaching. They were all welcoming, but Darlene couldn’t help but wonder why Myrna had hired her so quickly without a degree or any teaching experience.

  At lunchtime, Myrna led her to the kitchen, a sizable room in the back of the building with a round table and six chairs. Myrna unwrapped her sandwich as Darlene heated up leftover meat loaf and mashed potatoes.

  After they both sat down, Myrna asked, �
��What do you think so far?” Her gray hair was gathered into a bun atop her head, and she was wearing a gray dress that fell just past her knees. Darlene didn’t think she’d seen a more matronly-looking woman, and Myrna was a pillar of calm. Even when Lindsey had told her that the toilet was overflowing in the bathroom and flooding the hallway, Myrna had hardly reacted. “If that’s the worst thing the Lord tosses our way today, we’ll be okay,” she’d said with a smile.

  “It’s a nice facility.” Darlene blew on a bite of meat loaf. “I’m anxious to spend time with all the children, especially Cara.” After three hours in Myrna’s office going over procedures and Cara’s routine for the afternoon, Darlene was anxious to get started.

  Myrna smiled, and her eyes twinkled as they had all morning while she was showing Darlene around and teaching her about Cara. “Your one-on-one sessions with Cara will start at one o’clock. Then, starting tomorrow, you’ll also be in the morning group sessions.”

  Darlene nodded. “I’m a little surprised that I don’t need a degree to do this type of work.” She knew she wasn’t getting paid much, but she wanted to do a good job, even if she was just classified as an aide. Maybe no one else had applied for the job, and they were desperate for help in this small town.

  Myrna dabbed at her chin with her napkin. “I must warn you about something.” She paused, sighed. “Cara’s father is not the easiest man to deal with. Mae Perkins quit because of him, even though she cared a great deal about Cara.”

  Darlene knew this had all sounded too good to be true. “Uh-oh,” she said as she lifted her fork to her mouth.

  Myrna waved a hand in the air. “I’ll handle Dave Schroeder.”

  Darlene swallowed, thought for a few moments. “Did Mae have a degree or experience?” She poked at her potatoes, wondering if she was the right person to be working here.