When Andrew returned to the office, Faith was sitting at her desk again. “Where were you?” he asked.
“I had to…get something from the supply room. Where were you?”
“Harmony Solberg is speaking to Mrs. Lindeman’s class. I just showed her the way.”
“I’m sorry. I should have been here to do that.”
“No, no it worked out quite well.”
“What do you mean?”
Andrew rocked back on his heels, feeling pathetically proud of himself. “I asked her out, and she accepted. I guess I didn’t need your advice after all, Faith.”
Faith stared at him. “I guess you didn’t,” she echoed faintly.
“It’s time to do the announcements,” he said, glancing at the clock. “Are they ready?”
“Of course,” Faith replied, handing him a sheet of paper.
As Andrew took the paper he noted a bruise forming along Faith’s knuckles. That hadn’t been there before, had it? He took her wrist in his other hand. “What did you do?”
She tried to pull away. “It’s nothing. I…uh…fell and caught myself on my hand.”
“You must have landed in an awkward position. Did you sprain your wrist” he asked.
“No, it’s fine Andrew, really.”
Andrew studied Faith’s face. Something was wrong, but this wasn’t the time or the place to push her. He let her wrist slide through his fingers. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
“Then let’s get to the announcements.”
TITLE
Orchard Hill: volume Two
Chapter 2
After work that day, Faith stopped at The Green Scene Natural Food Market. She had started coming to Misty’s store years ago, after the doctor had determined that Kevin was allergic to milk. At the time, The Green Scene was the only place that sold soy milk and cheese. Now the local grocery store sold it, too, but Faith had become fond of the organic produce and the herbal teas Misty sold, so she kept shopping here.
“Faith Fielding, where have you been?” Misty called out as she walked into the store. “I haven’t seen you in ages.”
Faith attempted to smile back. “Spring is always busy at the school. Everyone is counting down to summer vacation. And there are all those ‘lasts’.”
“What do you mean ‘lasts’?” asked Misty.
“Oh you know, the last field trip, the last concert, the last art project, and so on and so forth. It keeps the calendar full. I think May is busier than December for us.”
Misty leaned forward and studied Faith’s face. “You look tired. I hope you aren’t letting yourself get run down.”
“No, I’m all right.”
“Well, just in case, you should pick up some of that immune system boosting tea.”
“Thanks, I will.”
“And how is your boss holding out through all this? I hope he’s not leaving you with all the work.”
She shook her head. “No, of course not. Andrew does more than all of us.”
“Hmm, maybe you’d better take some tea for him, too.”
“I’m not his wife. He’ll have to look after himself,” Faith said, a tinge of bitterness in her voice.
“Faith, what’s going on with you?”
“Nothing. Maybe I am tired.”
Misty studied her. “Is Andrew seeing anyone?” she asked.
“As a matter of fact, I believe he made a date with Harmony Solberg today.” Faith hoped she sounded nonchalant.
“Really.”
“I’ll definitely take some of that tea. Can you hold it up here while I look at your produce?”
“Of course, honey. You go look. I’ve got some early strawberries that are absolutely delicious.”
When Faith came back to the counter a little while later, Misty had the box of tea waiting. She placed her other items on the counter and Misty began to ring them up.
“You’ve worked at the school a long time, haven’t you, Faith?”
“Yes, this is my tenth year.”
“Maybe this tiredness isn’t physical,” Misty suggested as she weighed the strawberries.
“What else could it be?”
“Maybe it’s a tiredness of the soul.”
Faith looked at her skeptically.
“You know, maybe what you need is a change of scene, a new challenge.”
“Are you saying I’m in a rut?” she asked.
“Yes, I guess. Do you think so?”
Faith considered as Misty bagged the groceries. There was one thing she was definitely tired of—tired of waiting for something that was never going to happen. And she’d probably never move on while she spent every day with the object of her unrequited affection. “Maybe you’re right, Misty.”
****
That evening Andrew paced in his living room. The television was on, but he wasn’t paying any attention to it. Finally, he picked up the remote and muted it. Then he took Harmony’s card out of his pocket and looked at it.
She said she’d like to have dinner with him. Why should it be so hard to call and set up the details?
Andrew reviewed what he knew about the woman, which wasn’t much. She’d been the host of a regional cable show, she was writing a cookbook and she didn’t have much experience with kids. She was attractive and pleasant.
“What will we talk about all night?” Maybe he should invite her to a movie or something. Then he wouldn’t have to talk for at least an hour and a half.
“What am I thinking?” Andrew chastised himself. “I carry on conversations with people I hardly know all the time. What could be so hard about this?”
It was the whole date scenario that was throwing him. Though it had been more years ago than he wanted to think about, Andrew remembered feeling like this in junior high when he’d asked Emily Dubrowski to the 8th grade dance. Had he made so little progress in the three decades he’d lived since then? He’d experienced marriage, parenthood, and widowhood. He’d earned several degrees and built a respectable career.
Yet here he was, reduced to sweaty palms and a knotted stomach at the thought of calling a woman for a date. Where was the fairness in that? A lifetime of experience in maintaining poise in difficult situations surely must count for something?
Andrew wiped his moist hands on his pants. Apparently not.
The most ridiculous part about this whole fiasco was that he was only asking Harmony out because he’d promised Robin. It wasn’t as if he was attracted to her. At last, disgust with himself beat out anxiety, and he picked up the phone.
****
Andrew was feeling pretty pleased with himself as he walked into school the next morning. He’d called Harmony, and they’d made plans to go out for dinner that weekend. He’d done it. Robin would be proud of him.
Faith was already at her desk. “Good morning,” he called to her as he sailed through the office. Her response was less than enthusiastic.
Andrew paused. “Everything all right, Faith?” he asked.
Faith looked up from her work. Her eyes and nose were red. “I think I’ve picked up that cold that’s been going around. But I’m all right.”
“Are you sure? You’re never sick.”
“Yes, I’ll make it through the day.”
But by that evening, Faith knew she was done. Her throat hurt, her head hurt, her nose was running like a faucet, and all she wanted to do was curl up under a quilt and watch sitcom re-runs.
“You okay, Mom?” asked her son, Kevin, when he emerged from the cocoon he called his room in search of food, his dog on his heels, as usual.
“Not quite, I’m afraid,” Faith croaked. She hated being sick, but she had to admit this bug was getting the best of her. “Do you think you can make yourself some supper?”
“Well, sure. I can heat up some leftovers or something, but what about you?”
“I’m not hungry. I’ll have something later.”
Kevin was silent for a moment. Then, he came over to the
couch and knelt down by her. “You wouldn’t let me skip supper if I were sick.” He placed a hand on her forehead. “I think you have a fever, Mom.”
“I’ll check it in a few minutes. I don’t feel like getting up now.”
“What about eating? I could make you some soup.”
“Thank you, honey, but I don’t think I could get it down.”
Kevin disappeared into the kitchen to make one of the soy cheese pizzas from Misty’s—and to sneak treats to the dog, she assumed.
About ten minutes later, the doorbell rang. Before Faith could convince herself to move from the couch, she heard Kevin open the kitchen door.
Did he invite a friend over when I’m sick? He wouldn’t do that to me, would he? Now she really had to get up and see what was going on. And she would. In just a minute.
“She’s in here,” Kevin said, and then Andrew’s face was in front of hers, concern written all over it.
“Faith?” he asked.
“Andrew? What are you doing here?”
“Kevin called me. He said you were sick.”
“You knew I had a cold. It’s no big deal.”
He knelt down beside her and laid his hand on her forehead. “Get the thermometer, Kevin.”
“I’ve got it right here.”
“I’m fine,” Faith protested weakly as Andrew popped the thermometer in her mouth. Well, maybe not fine, exactly, but surely not in need of this kind of attention. She just wanted to lie on the couch and relax. Was there a law against that?
“She asked me to make my own supper,” Kevin whispered to Andrew, as if that was a crime.
“But…”
Her protest was cut off by a stern look from Andrew. “Don’t try to talk.”
With a sigh, Faith sank back into the cushions. After a minute, Andrew checked the thermometer.
“What does it say?” Kevin asked, leaning over his shoulder.
“One hundred and one. It’s official. She’s sick.”
“Do we have to take her to the hospital?”
Andrew chuckled. “No, I think it’s just a virus. Your mom needs rest and a lot of fluids, mostly.”
“I need to be left alone,” she mumbled, but they ignored her.
“I offered to make her soup. She said she didn’t want anything.”
“Well, we can’t have that, can we,” Andrew said. “Let’s go see what we can do in the kitchen.”
Twenty minutes later, Andrew and Kevin were munching on pizza while Faith sat up on the couch staring at her unappetizing bowl of soup.
“Would you rather have some of the pizza, Mom?” Kevin asked.
“No. My throat’s too sore. But thank you, honey.”
Andrew moved over until he sat next to her on the couch. “I know it’s hard, but you have to eat Faith. You have to keep up your strength.” He put his arm around her and she, weak soul that she was, leaned her head on his shoulder, soaking up the comfort he offered.
“Take a bite,” he urged her.
Faith complied, saddened by her lack of willpower where Andrew was concerned. Maybe if she finished the soup he’d go away. She took another bite.
She couldn’t taste anything, and her throat burned. Why did he have to be here now, when she was a complete mess? Now, that would be a picture to compare to Harmony Solberg when they went out.
Harmony always looked perfect. Of course she looked perfect on TV, but even the few times Faith had seen her around town, she appeared to have just stepped out of a salon. Her clothes were pressed and perfectly fitted, never a hair out of place.
Faith sighed. And here she was—runny nose, red eyes and dressed in a ratty bathrobe that should have been thrown out years ago. Life was so unfair.
She leaned forward and plunked her bowl on the coffee table. “I can’t eat any more. I think I’ll just go to bed.”
To Faith’s horror, Andrew got up and followed her. “Well, take some cold medicine first. With juice maybe. And keep some water by your bed.”
Faith took the pills he offered because she didn’t have the strength to argue with him. She accepted the glass of water he gave her because she was too tired to complain, but she rallied when he tried to follow her into her bedroom.
“Andrew, you are not tucking me in,” she protested. “Thank you very much for your help, but I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”
He shook his head. “No way. You’re staying home tomorrow.”
“But I never miss work.”
“This time you will. And that’s an order.” Andrew put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her forehead. “I need you. Get better.”
Faith slumped against her door as he walked back to the living room. He needed her. If only he wasn’t talking about someone to take his messages and keep track of his schedule.
This cold was making her overly emotional. Maybe she should stay home and sleep tomorrow. She certainly felt like she could sleep that long.
Back in the living room, Andrew sat down to finish his pizza. “Do you want to work with Davy tonight?” he asked Kevin.
Davy was the terrier-type dog Kevin had adopted recently. Andrew had volunteered to help train the dog. At first, Kevin had wanted to call him Goliath, but Andrew pointed out that since the dog was done growing, he would likely never fit that name. “He’s more of a David than a Goliath,” Andrew had said and the name stuck in slightly altered form—Davy.
“Nah,” Kevin answered. “He’s doing okay. Besides, what if Mom needs me?”
“I think she’ll be all right. You do understand it’s just a cold, don’t you?”
“I know…but Mom’s never sick. And Robin said…”
“Robin said what?”
“Robin said her mom got sick before…before she died. Maybe you should spend the night.”
Andrew studied the boy. These fears seemed a little childish for a thirteen-year-old, but then again Faith was remarkably good at avoiding sickness—a must for anyone who worked in a school—and Kevin had already lost one parent.
“That’s true. But Robin’s mother had a lot more than a simple cold. You just haven’t seen your mother much when she’s sick. Trust me, there’s a big difference between a cold and cancer.”
“Okay,” said Kevin. “If you’re sure you don’t want to stay.”
Andrew laughed. “I don’t think your mother would appreciate it.”
“I guess not,” he agreed. “Oh, I almost forgot. I have to tell Robin what you said.”
“Tell Robin?”
“Yeah, while I was waiting for you I IM’d her and told her about Mom. I have to tell her you said it was just a cold.”
“IM?”
“Instant Message. Geez, Andrew, you work with kids. You should know this stuff.”
Now that he was sure his mother wasn’t dying, Kevin was back in full teenage mode, Andrew noted, attitude in tact. He’d seen enough of that over the years that it didn’t faze him. “Sorry,” he chuckled. “I’ll try to stay on top of it. If you’re going back to the computer, I’m going to head home.”
“Do you think Mom will need anything tonight?”
“Probably not. But if she does, she should be able to get it herself. You can always call me if you need me.”
“I know, Andrew.” Accompanied with eye roll.
“Remember that I said she wasn’t supposed to come in to work tomorrow. Don’t wake her up when you leave for school.”
“I never have to wake her up. She’s always up before me,” Kevin protested.
“Well, don’t count on it tomorrow,” Andrew said before he slipped out the door.
TITLE
Orchard Hill: volume Two
Chapter 3
The next morning Faith pried open her eyes to brilliant sunlight slanting through her bedroom. She grimaced and sat up. Her head felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. Obviously, it was well past the time she should be at work.
Slowly, she made her way into the kitchen and got a glass of orange juice. She winced
as the cold liquid touched her raw throat. There was a note from Kevin propped up on the kitchen counter.
Orchard Hill Volume Two Page 2
