She stared at her fingers, which she laced together and then pulled apart. The bright red nails drew people’s eyes from the endless fabric of freckles that dotted her skin. Her skin underneath was ash white, never to be tanned. She finally sighed and licked her lips. “No, it doesn’t seem very logical. I’ve thought about it. I just don’t know what to do to get her to hear me out.”
He stood up suddenly. “I know how. Come on.”
Allison stared up at him, startled. “What? Now? What do you mean?”
“I mean we go take care of this now. Three years is ridiculously too long. And if Erin could hear what I just did, I’m sure she’ll follow your advice. She’ll do it. Nice, be damned. Being effective? Changing her life? That shit needs to happen; and it needs to happen now.”
She rose to her feet. “What did you hear?”
He stopped at her sliding door and turned back to her. “I heard you. Not formal, polite, educated Mrs. Gray, but caring, passionate, wants-to-change-the-world Allison speaking. That’s who she needs to hear, down and gritty. She needs to hear the truth and have reality slapped in her face because otherwise, she’ll never commit to trying. She needs you. I believe it now, more than anything. She’ll never respond to anyone else. I know she will to you. Now come on, before you think too hard about this and change your mind.”
Allison stood there, leaning her hands on the table and shaking her head. “That’s the thing, I need to think about this. I don’t just rush off and do that kind of thing. I need to think about how to approach it. I need—”
Stepping forward, Shane grabbed her hand as he yanked her around the small patio table. He spun her until her body was in front of his. She gasped at how quickly he moved and with an almost angry sharpness. She could feel all of his six-foot-five muscles, tendons, and body heat behind her. “She sits over there, right there in your own backyard. All that stuff you studied and know so well and spout at me, is needed right there. I can’t do that. I can’t affect anyone’s life. You can. You can do that, Allison. And you wouldn’t do it for fear of offending Erin? I find it much more offensive to let her wallow in self-hatred and shame for something she can’t help or understand. You might need to think on it, but she needs for you to act. Now.” Shane’s voice was right in her ear. The heat of his breath tickled her and something weird and warm traveled through her body before knotting in her stomach. Something not altogether unpleasant.
“If I could change someone’s life for the better, I’d do it in a heartbeat. Don’t waste your talent and intelligence, your gifts, by being polite. Proper courtesy never changed the world, or anything else. You can though. You can make all the difference for Erin.”
No one ever spoke to Allison like that. His passion was thrilling, intoxicating, and contagious. She suddenly felt like throwing her arms around him, or shouting in the air, yes I can! But instead, she kept her head level, dropped her gaze, and stepped away from him before answering, “Okay.”
He nodded and his huge grin of satisfaction released a wonderful feeling that flowed through her. She dashed the urge it inspired. Why did she care about pleasing Shane?
He kept her hand in his: a massive, giant, baseball mitt-sized hand that tugged her through her own house. She resisted and snatched her hand back. “I need shoes, Shane.”
He paused at her front door and waved at her impatiently, as though if she must, she could get her shoes, but hurry. Slipping her black flats on and grabbing a coat, Shane’s nervous energy inspired her as he shouted, “Come on, let’s go.” As if she were running late for an appointment. That was just crazy. Erin had already waited three years.
She stopped dead in her doorway as Shane started for his bike. “I’m not riding that,” she told him.
“You’re about to change a life and now you hesitate over my vehicle? Come on.”
Vehicle? Her life versus a gory death. “It’s freezing out. I’ll take my car.”
He shook his head. “Okay, so it’s cold. But someday, Allison, you’ll have to try things my way.”
Allison shivered when she heard that damned, deep timbre in his voice. It always felt like a long caress down her back when he said Allison like that. Her name never seemed sexy until she heard Shane utter it. Clutching her purse and keys, she slipped into her car. Shane climbed into her four-door sedan that was definitely on the small, compact side. He made it feel like it might tip over onto his side. He tucked his legs in and she started to laugh. Glancing over at her, he asked, “What?”
“You make my car look like a toy,” she said before zipping backwards and accelerating onto the street. It was only a few minutes’ drive. Why didn’t Shane just ride his bike? It would have been the unspoken answer to their mild argument. But… somehow, strangely, it seemed like this was their thing. Their mission. Their goal. Allison was sure she’d chicken out without Shane’s empowering, almost goading insistence. Never mind he had ditched Celia without a word.
“Can I help it if your car can’t handle me?” he said suggestively. She caught his intention, and ignored it.
“How tall are you?”
“Six feet, five inches. Big enough for you?”
She rolled her eyes and he laughed. She also laughed before her stomach knotted when he guided her down the dirt road of the ranch driveway. It sure needed a new load of gravel. Potholes rattled her car. Shane must have noticed how often she winced. “We put all the usual repair money towards the new road for the resort guests. We usually redo our driveway after the winter snows. They’re always pretty hard on it. Hope to get to it soon.”
“That’s about ready to open, right?”
Shane was staring out the passenger window. She noticed how he ran his fingers idly up and down his thigh. Nerves? Something, it seemed. With her? No. It must be from discussing the recent ranch improvements. They subdivided the ranch and built several new small cabins along the river that were soon to open for guests to stay in. Rydell River Resort had a private road off the main highway and its own sign.
“Word is that it opens in the spring.”
“Yup. First weekend of May. It’s already booked.”
“Do you… do anything for it?”
“For what? The resort?”
“The ranch. The resort, your family’s legacy?”
“Nah. Horses aren’t my thing. I never cottoned to them. That whole farm animal dude ranch thing is not for me either. I lack the temperament for being polite to fussy city guests. So, no. I don’t do much on the ranch.”
“Who’s running it then?”
“Ian handles most of the paperwork and taxes, and he’ll be here when it opens. He and Kailynn plan to return for most weekends during the summer to help manage the summer season guests and keep it running. It’ll be the first one, so probably the hardest too. Jack and Erin, of course, will run it and… Ben and AJ do whatever they say. I think they hired Kailynn’s brothers also, you know, to do whatever else needs doing.”
She glanced at him. “Don’t you ever want a vote in it? Or some responsibility? It is yours too, correct?”
Shane shifted around uncomfortably before he shrugged. “Sure. I own a share, same as my brothers. But I trust them.”
“Maybe. But maybe they’d like your help once in a while.”
“What could I possibly do that they don’t have already covered?”
“How about PR? You’re quite a salesman. I can attest to that. Look at what I’m doing right now,” she grumbled as she parked in front of the house. She stared at the front of the house. He stared too, without making any motion to get out. Allison sometimes marveled at how much she knew about the Rydells. They were practically the founding fathers of the town and regularly gossiped about. Jack and Ian each were in the process of building their own houses on the ranch.
“When do Jack and Erin move out?”
“Soon. Before May.”
“Big change. Will the boys move into the new house?”
“Yeah.” There was a concise finali
ty to his answer. Allison easily gathered that he didn’t like it. He seemed to have a strange attraction and repulsion: wanting the boys and his brothers around, but feeling unable to handle them long term. Shane seemed to expect, and in fact, wanted all of them to live together, always waiting for him, indefinitely.
“Sooo,” Shane said, drawing out his tone and raising his eyebrows expectantly.
“Okay. Fine,” she muttered as she got out of the car and slammed the door.
He paused on the porch. “You can do this. It’s the right thing to do. If she fights you, which she will, you just have to fight harder. If she blows you off, or goes all sweet and nice, go full speed ahead on her. Make her listen to you.”
She nodded, strangely touched by his faith in her as well as his devotion to Erin. As luck would have it, Jack and Erin were both in the house. Erin was finishing up dishes and Jack sat in the living room, watching TV in his recliner.
“Mrs. Gray?” Jack said when he noticed her behind Shane. He immediately put the recliner down and got to his feet. “Is everything all right with Charlie?”
“Oh, yes. Yes, it’s fine. I actually came to speak to Erin,” she said shifting her glance to Erin. Erin smiled and set the dishtowel down as she walked forward and shyly said, “Hi. How are you?”
Crap! There she goes. All polite and sweet again. Allison glanced at Shane and his eyes widened as if urging her to do it. Easy for him to say. He wasn’t the one who had to kick and squish and stomp a helpless puppy. That’s what it felt like to Allison.
She took a deep breath and hauled her tablet from her purse. “Will you just watch something for me?” She decided to skip a lengthy explanation.
“Is it about Charlie?” She still believed Allison came there to discuss her stepson.
“No,” she said quietly. “It’s about you. J—just watch this.”
Erin’s round eyes went from looking big and kind to wary and stormy. She stepped back as if Allison just threatened her and started shaking her head. “What are you doing?” she whispered as if Allison were hitting her. She was hurting her. No, betraying her.
She glanced at Shane and he nodded his support before scowling at Erin. “Watch it, Erin. Just try something for once, please fucking try.”
Jack bristled as he stepped forward. Allison shrank when she saw the brothers suddenly staring intently at each other. “What is this?”
Jack didn’t like anyone intimidating Erin. Neither did Allison… but, Shane was right. It was an uphill battle, but it could change her life. Do it. Politely backing down accomplished nothing. If Erin would just hear her out, Allison might still manage to achieve something great.
Shane stepped closer to Jack and set a hand on his chest. “Just back off, Jack. I asked Allison to come here. And to do this. You know I’d never invite anyone here who could hurt her, in any way. You know that.” His tone was reserved and solid. Allison had never seen Shane like that. Usually, he was obnoxious and kind of a jerk. What he told her was heartfelt, and genuine. That was the kind of solid relationship he shared with his brother.
Jack glanced at her and then at Erin. Erin shook her head as if begging Jack to prevent them from doing that to her. Allison narrowed her eyes. Erin was good in her role, too. Like a small, sweet baby or a friendly puppy begging for protection from someone ready to beat them, neglect them, and abuse them. However, Allison simply intended to show her a video. Allison straightened up. “It’s a video. Only a half hour. It won’t hurt you.”
“I don’t owe you anything.”
“No, you don’t; but you owe yourself. And you owe Jack and Shane and Ian and Charlie and Ben. All of them asked me privately on separate occasions what they could do to help you. And do you know what my answer was? Nothing. I told them nothing because you had to be ready. Well, I get it now. You’re never going to be ready. And none of them can help you. But I can.” Her words seemed to be gaining steam, lifting her own confidence. She stepped forward and laid the tablet in front of her at the kitchen table. “Sit. For only ten minutes. That’s it. Then you can tell me to go to hell.”
Erin’s eyes lifted up and blazed at her. “How about I tell you to go there now?” she said, and her former innocence and sweetness were gone. She was livid with anger. Allison leaned on the table and bravely met Erin’s angry, belligerent gaze.
“Fine. Tell me now. But watch this,” she replied as she pushed the loaded link before a video popped up. She pressed play and passed it to Erin. “Just sit and watch it,” she ordered, using her best pissed-off teacher voice. She was pretty good at it too. Erin finally sat with an exaggerated jerk of her arms before taking the tablet and lifting it up so she could see it. Jack and Shane went behind her and watched from a distance over her shoulder. Allison sat down across from her. Taking out her phone, she started playing solitaire on it just to give Erin some space.
Ten minutes passed. Then fifteen. Then twenty. Erin had no comment. She didn’t react at all. But she also didn’t stop watching it. It was a long video featuring a woman who was a well-known speaker about dyslexia. She explained its symptoms, causes and prevalence in some people. She toured the country with this lecture, trying to prod the educators and parents of such an under-addressed and undiagnosed epidemic to action.
Finally, after forty minutes, Erin lowered the tablet. Allison laid her phone flat, and turned it off. She stared into Erin’s eyes, and Erin stared back at her. Licking her lips, tears shone in Erin’s eyes as she whispered, “Th—that… It describes me.”
“I know, Erin. It does. It totally describes you.” Allison’s tone was soft, but clinical. She had to make Erin understand it wasn’t her fault, but it was on her to find a solution. “I know you’re a dyslexic learner who went to school in a state that doesn’t screen for it or accommodate for it. You can only learn by a specific, systematic, multi-sensory reading, writing, and spelling program. You cannot learn, no matter how hard you try, by most methods. It’s not your fault; and there is nothing wrong with you. You are not stupid either. You’ve simply never been taught using the correct method. Do you hear me, Erin Rydell? You. Are. Not. Stupid.”
That quickly, Erin burst into tears. They poured from her eyes and sobs escaped her throat as she buried her face in her hands. Allison released Erin’s stigma after nearly thirty years of misery and self-loathing in one statement, it is not your fault. Sobs wracked her small, thin shoulders as Jack stepped forward. Allison shook her head. “Let her cry, Jack. Let her just freaking cry. All that time she wasted, when all along, it was curable and unnecessary. Just let her get it out. First, she has to accept this.”
She cried for several more minutes until finally, the tears started to lessen. Shane and Jack sat down quietly on either side of her. Jack held her hand while she kept crying with her head on the table. She finally lifted her tear-streamed face. “All those years.” She gulped with another sob. “All those schools. All those teachers. I always assumed I missed too much, and had to start over so many times, I always thought I was to blame for not getting it.”
“No. It only made it ten times worse, of course, but it was highly unlikely you’d have learned anything anyway; not unless it was a dyslexia-approved program.”
“But how can that be? In this day and age, how can the schools, whom parents entrust with teaching their children to read, not have the kind of help necessary for teaching kids with a reading disability?”
“Welcome to my battle. Dyslexia is ignored in most teaching programs nowadays. Yet, it’s an acknowledged condition. Schools don’t have to legally do anything about it. So getting a student with dyslexia into special education services can actually be more harmful than beneficial. It’s a specific reading disability stemming from a defect in the brain's processing of graphic symbols. That alters the way the brain processes any written material. It’s a neurological and often genetic condition. Your brain is ten percent bigger on the right side also. That means you possess a non-academic talent or ability that is far more ad
vanced, or developed than a non-dyslexic person. Most of the things they teach in the traditional academic world are weak subjects for you, but ironically, you have gifts that far exceed what any of us non-dyslexic people can do.”
Erin’s gaze wavered as she shook her head. “I don’t believe you.”
Allison shrugged. “It’s a scientific fact, Erin. If a brain scan were done on you right now, it would prove the right side of your brain is physically bigger than a non-dyslexic brain.”
“You’re trying to say I’m somehow gifted?” Erin’s jaw nearly hung open.
Something shifted in Allison’s heart. She’d never been able to reach or change anyone’s life as much as she could at this moment. “Yes, I’m telling you that. You watched the video, you know I’m not making it all up.”
Erin dropped her head and stared at her lap. “I can draw pretty well.”
“You can?”
“Yes. I can draw anything. I can see it in my mind and recreate all of it. It’s nothing for me. It’s easy.”
“Do you like to do it?”
Erin glanced up and around as she shrugged. “I—yes, I like to do it.”
“Then why don’t you?”
She shrugged. “Because I used to do it instead of all the stuff for school I was supposed to be doing. Everyone told me to concentrate. Try harder. Quit wasting time scribbling that crap. It was useless. I needed to focus on what really mattered, or I was going nowhere. But the thing was, I couldn’t. I tried to focus. So hard. And I tried to concentrate, but I couldn’t do it, so I knew I was useless. But drawing…”
“Became part of what you thought was useless. And thus, part of your problem.”
“I thought it was frivolous and kept me from being who I really needed to be.”
“Start drawing, Erin. Start drawing everything. Embrace what and who you are and what you can do; and through your expressions, tell people who you are.”
River's Return (River's End Series, #3) Page 7
