by Holly Jacobs
Laura had found that sometimes the best argument was saying nothing. She simply continued holding the book and staring at JT, waiting.
JT’s pacing slowed, and she glanced at Laura and the book, but didn’t say anything, either.
The minutes ticked by. Normally, Laura liked the sound of the clock. Each tick meant she was that much closer to the end of a school day, and when she was in a very pregnant mood, it was a reminder she was that much closer to her baby’s arrival. But today, those ticks represented a contest of wills. Hers against JT’s. And this was one battle Laura intended to win.
Five minutes must have passed and Laura was ready to set the book down. Her arm was starting to shake from the effort of holding it, when JT sat back in the chair and took the book from her.
She opened it to the first page. “The. WI. N. D. OW. Was. OP. OP. Op. En.”
She slammed the book shut. “There. I read it. I can read, so you can quit worrying.”
“JT, you read a sentence. Painfully. Laboriously.”
“But I read it.”
Laura was by no means an expert when it came to teaching reading, but she knew there was a difference between being able to push your way through the letters and words, and being able to read.
“Listen, JT, I’m an art teacher, but even I know that being able to read easily is necessary in life. I want that for you. You’d have so much less trouble with your classes. Mr. Fritz, the guidance counselor, can set up some special—”
“No.” JT stood again. “He’s not gonna put me in the stupid classes. I won’t go. I’ll quit school first.”
“JT, sit down. I’m trying to help.”
Laura wasn’t sure JT would listen, but after a moment, she took her seat again.
She hit the desk with her fist. “You want to help by putting me in with the rejects?”
“That’s not kind, and it’s beneath you. They’re simply students who have problems, or who need help to learn more efficiently. You need some extra help in order to—”
“If you put me in that class, I’m out of here. I mean it, I’ll quit school.”
“JT.” Laura didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know how to communicate with this girl. She knew in her heart that helping JT wasn’t some way to fill the void. Laura was a teacher, trying to do her job. More than that, she liked the girl.
“Fine. I love reading, but I’m no English teacher. Still, if you let me, I’ll help you.”
Her offer seemed to surprise JT. “Huh?”
“I’ll help you. I’ll pick up some material, and then you and I will work here after school each day.”
“You’re not going to turn me in?”
Laura shook her head. “I was never going to turn you in. I am going to talk to the principal—”
“No reject classes, right?”
“Right. You’ll have to promise to work hard. But working hard to learn to read better can’t be any more difficult than struggling with words and having to cover it up.”
JT didn’t have an outburst this time. She didn’t look angry or frustrated. She looked truly confused. “Why? You never answered why?”
Laura smiled. “I like you. Why is that so hard to believe?”
JT shrugged. “I do look in the mirror, so, I know, most people see the piercings and all the black.”
“I am not most people. And you really need to see that you are special. You’re worth caring about.”
JT snorted her response.
“May I talk to Seth, too? He noticed and is worried.”
“Yeah, but that’s it. No one else.” She paused. “He’s gonna think I’m dumb.”
“No, he won’t.”
“You know, you’re kind of naive, Ms. Watson.”
“And you know, you have a great vocabulary. I’m not sure what to do to help, but we’ll figure it out between us. For now, why don’t you go get your books and begin your homework. Wouldn’t it be novel if you went in tomorrow with it all done?”
“My teachers would probably faint from shock. Especially Mrs. Lutz. She hates me.”
“Let’s not worry about what the teachers or anyone else says or thinks. Let’s worry about you.”
THAT SAME NIGHT, SETH walked into his spartan apartment. Normally, he wouldn’t have noticed. But his sisters, May, Layla and Cessy had come to Erie to shop a few weekends ago and had stopped by to take him to dinner. His youngest sister, Cessy, never one to mince words, had summed up their collective opinion. “Seth, I’ve seen prison cells that look better than this place.”
Her comment had stuck with him ever since.
He had a desk with a laptop on it and a sectional in the main room. The small kitchenette off to the right was more than adequate for the amount of cooking he did, and he didn’t need more than the stool and the counter for the infrequent times he actually ate at home.
The bedroom to the left of the main room had a king-size bed and a dresser.
It was functional.
And Cessy was wrong because he didn’t know of any prison cell with a sixty-inch flat-screen television. He’d been saying as much to himself for the last week—it wasn’t helping. He still noticed how bare his apartment seemed, but he didn’t know what to do about it.
His place with Allie had been warmer and felt like a home. His parents and Laura had managed it, too. It wasn’t just that they had more stuff. It was a feeling. And while he could go buy more things to put in his apartment, he couldn’t buy that feeling.
He gave up staring at the empty apartment and looked up illiteracy on Google.
Then he narrowed the search and added high school.
For the next hour he surfed the net, then left for Borders and picked up two of the books the most helpful website had suggested. Afterward, he headed to Laura’s.
Her house was small, and painted a deep gray. It was in a quiet neighborhood not far from his apartment. The place had red shutters, and a small porch bordered by holly bushes, which were still green, despite the November cold.
He knocked on the cherry-red door. He wondered if she’d bought the car to match the door, or vice versa.
Laura opened it as far as the chain would allow, then closed it. He heard the rattle as she took the chain lock off, then reopened the door, this time with worry on her face. “Seth? Is something wrong with JT? Is she back in jail?”
“She was never in jail,” he assured her. “But no, nothing like that. You said you know basket weaving not teaching reading, wasn’t that it?” He held the books out to her.
She smiled and nodded. “Come in.”
He liked that phrase a lot. And as he stepped into Laura’s hallway, he was struck by how non-spartan her home seemed. It was warm and inviting. There was a coat tree standing next to the door. A long, skinny table next to it. It had a small bowl with keys in it, and a trimmed ivy plant.
Maybe a plant would make his sisters feel better about his house?
“Seth?”
“Sorry.” He stopped worrying about his unadorned apartment and concentrated on JT. “Anyway, did you know that about a fifth of high school seniors can be considered functionally illiterate? A website suggested these books. They’re easy readers for older students. I thought they’d be good for JT.”
“This way,” Laura said.
He went back into the small, but neat house. Growing up, his parents’ house had been controlled chaos, and his place seemed sterile. Laura’s house was a vision of neatness and order. But despite those differences, it said home here as much as his parents’ had. As much as his apartment didn’t.
Wow, Cessy’s comment had bothered him even more than he thought.
“I was making some soup for dinner. Would you like a bowl?” Laura asked.
“You don’t have to feed me.”
“My grandmother used to say, I don’t have to do anything but die and pay taxes.” Laura stopped abruptly as she said the words. “I guess that’s the truth of it. Things happen. And the people left behind
have to go on. That seems the hardest part.”
“I never thought of it that way,” Seth said as he pulled a stool up to the island.
Laura bustled around at the stove, not looking at him as she said, “Well, I know that Jay’s fine. I know he’d want me to find a way to be happy. Although, I’m not sure how to do it.”
“It hasn’t been that long for you,” Seth said softly. He remembered those awful early days and acknowledged how far he’d come. He’d healed without even noticing it. He missed Allie. He always would. But he’d survived. He’d found a life for himself.
He’d told Laura that Allie’s death was like a scab that kept getting torn off, but he confessed it had been a long time since he’d dealt with that particular scab. He wasn’t sure if he found that idea comforting.
Laura was staring at him. “And you? How long for you?”
“Years.” He could no longer automatically say how long to the day. He did the math in his head. “It’s going on three years. I still feel the loss, but it’s not that giant, clawing grief.”
“So, my goal should be to get out of this hole and…” She shrugged. “And then what?”
“And then, once you can see beyond that hole, you’ll be able to see your future. You’ll be able to remember there’s so much more to life and you’ll want to be a part of it.”
She dished up bowls of soup. “You haven’t.”
“Haven’t what?”
She set a bowl in front of him. “Moved past your loss.”
“Most days I have. And that’s something.”
She sat down opposite him at the island, her own bowl in front of her. “Maybe it is.” She stirred her soup with her spoon, not taking a bite.
He took a taste. “Hey, this is good.”
“Thanks.” She continued to stir. Round and round. Finally, she said, “So, about JT—”
Seth prided himself on reading people, but he had no clue what the expression on Laura’s face meant. “Laura?” he asked.
She stood up, looked at the floor, then panicked. “I think my water broke!”
“Oh.” The realization sunk in. “Oh! Come on, I’ll take you to the hospital.”
“No, really, that’s okay. I gotta get some dry pants, and my suitcase. I’ll drive myself. I’ll need a car to get home,” she said, as if that explained everything.
“Who should I call?”
Sadness replaced the panic.
“A friend?” he asked.
“This was supposed to be me and Jay. Having someone else come along…” She shook her head and her long, blond hair flew back and forth. “I can’t do it.”
“What about the chief and his wife?” Seth knew without a doubt that Jameson and his wife would be at the hospital in a heartbeat.
“No!” Laura couldn’t have been more emphatic. There was only one option left, but Seth didn’t want to take it. He wished he was the kind of man who could say, Fine, good luck, and go home, but he wasn’t. “I’ll drive you then,” he insisted.
“No. I need my car—”
“Damn it, Laura, I’ll pick you up when it’s time to go home. You don’t need a car.”
“I need to do this on my own.” Her voice sounded suspiciously watery.
“Are you crying?” he asked this woman for a second time.
“No, I’m not crying. And I don’t need you. I need to do this by myself.”
“No, you don’t.” He reached for her hand.
She pulled her hand away. “You don’t understand.”
“So explain it to me.”
“My water broke and you want to do an in-depth psychological assessment of me?” She no longer sounded panicked or as if she were going to cry.
“Laura, I’m not going anywhere except with you to the hospital, so like I said, you might as well explain it to me. I want to help.”
“But we’ve both learned that what you want isn’t always what you get. Now, if you don’t mind…”
Seth wasn’t biting. “I do mind.”
“You’re a pain in my butt, Keller.” There was no heat in her accusation.
Despite the fact he was scared to death that he was arguing with a woman in labor, he managed a halfhearted chuckle. “You are definitely not the first person to tell me that. I had three sisters who never used to put it that politely. And my brothers were even more graphic and free with their descriptions.”
“You’re not going to go until I tell you something.”
“Not only something, the truth.” What he didn’t say was that he wasn’t going anywhere even after she explained herself.
“Fine. How’s this for the truth? I was supposed to say, ‘Honey, my water broke,’ and have Jay run around the house like a madman because he was so nervous, even though he was trying to be tough-guy cop cool. He’d speed trying to get me to the hospital and I’d laugh and say one of his buddies was going to ticket him if he didn’t slow down. And when I was in labor, in the middle of a bad contraction, I’d look at him and he’d be suffering for me, and I’d know how it hurt him to think I was in pain, so I’d try to be stoic for his sake.”
She definitely was crying. Seth grabbed a napkin and handed it to her.
Laura wiped her eyes and continued. “And when I gave birth, he’d hold our baby first and he’d have tears in his eyes, knowing that the two of us brought this tiny being into this world because of our love.”
She wiped her eyes again. “Don’t you see, Seth? I’ve had this baby with him in my dreams and fantasies a thousand times since we found out I was pregnant. Even after he died, I couldn’t stop imaging how it should be. Even though it won’t happen that way. And the truth is—the utter truth of it is—if I can’t have that, I don’t want anything or anyone else there with me because there is no substitute. I’ll be raising this baby on my own, and that seems ever so much harder than giving birth on my own.”
Seth wanted to reach out and hold her more than he’d ever wanted to do anything, but he knew she wouldn’t allow it. That she couldn’t allow it. She needed to feel in control. She needed to feel confident that she could do this on her own. And he, more than most, could understand.
So he simply said, “Let’s compromise. You go change and get your stuff, and let me drive you.”
She tried to look disgruntled, but the napkin she was using to blot her eyes ruined the effect. “That’s not a compromise.” She sniffed. “That’s you getting your own way.”
“Like I said, three sisters. I learned at an early age how to cope with girls.”
“I—” He thought she was going to tell him no, or yell about his use of the word girl, but she simply shook her head in exasperation, much like his sisters used to, and said grudgingly, “Fine. You can drive me, but then you have to go.”
He didn’t agree, and didn’t disagree. He shooed her toward her room. “Change.”
Laura muttered her way down the hall. She gave up on muttering and was silent on the ride to the hospital.
Seth tried to think of something to say, but kept drawing a blank. Eventually, he hit on, “Should I call JT and tell her that you’re having the baby so that she doesn’t think you deserted her tomorrow at detention?”
“Yes. I thought I had more time before the baby.”
“You’ll be on maternity leave for a while?”
“Yes. At least three months. I may just take the rest of the school year. It would be unpaid, but I have enough put away.” She was quiet then.
Things were a blur when they got to the hospital. They whisked Laura away to get her ready. Seth had no idea what that entailed, and he didn’t ask. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t leave her, but he didn’t want to be here. He was a casual acquaintance, an ally at best.
He thought again of calling the chief. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place here. On the heels of that thought, a nurse said, “Your wife is all settled in the birthing room.”
“She’s not my wife.”
The tiny woman in scrubs a
nd a ponytail frowned. “Your girlfriend, then.”
“No, we’re not—”
She interrupted him, frustration in her voice. “Your baby-mama, then. She’s settled and you can go in.”
The room the nurse showed him into didn’t look like an ordinary hospital room. Pictures of babies were on the walls. And there was a rocking chair and recliner. “Nice room,” he said, for lack of anything else.
“The nurse said you were still here. Really, you can go now. But thanks for driving me. I guess it would have been dangerous if I’d had a huge labor pain in the middle of traffic.”
“Any yet?”
“No. Not yet. The nurse said normally they start within twenty-four hours after your water breaks. She would have let me go home, but says I shouldn’t be alone, so I’m here for the duration. It’s a waiting game now. If I’m not in labor by the morning, they’ll probably induce me.”
He pulled the rocking chair next to the bed. “Well, it looks like we’re in for a long night. Why don’t you see if there’s anything on television?” He plunked down in the chair like Custer making his last stand, and like Custer, he had a feeling this wasn’t going to end well.
“Seth, really. Go home.”
“Hey, I’m not staying for the messy bits, but I’m also not leaving you alone to wait. So, we’ll wait together. Watch some TV. Maybe I’ll visit the gift shop before it closes and see if there’s a deck of cards I can buy.”
“Seth…”
“Laura, it’s no use arguing. Unless you call someone else, I’m staying.”
“Fine. I challenge you to Five Hundred Rummy. And I should warn you, I’m quite the card shark.”
CHAPTER FIVE
LAURA STUDIED SETH AS HE slept in the recliner. His features had eased and he looked much younger. She tried to guess how old he was. Maybe late twenties? Certainly not more than thirty, tops. She wondered how his hair would grow in if it wasn’t so short. Would it be straight, or would it curl if he let it get long? She couldn’t imagine him letting it get too long. He was too much a cop for that. This shorter cut suited him without making him look forbidding. He looked…safe. Like someone you could trust.
