“Aaron Cross. You read to me about a month ago. At the literacy picnic.”
“My mommy hit her head. When she carried me out of the building. She fell down and didn’t move and they took her away.”
Aaron swore under his breath. How had the kid gotten separated from his mother?
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” he asked. “Where’s your dad?”
More tears spilled down the boy’s cheeks. “I just have Mommy.”
Without thinking, Aaron bent down and scooped the boy up in his arms. “Hey, it’s going to be okay,” he promised. “I’ll help you find out what’s going on.”
He walked around the milling crowd looking for someone in authority. The firefighters were all too busy with battling the fire, and everyone from the apartment building seemed to be in a panic. Finally he located someone who would know exactly what to do.
Marissa stood at the edge of the disaster scene. She spoke into a cell phone while she gave directions to those around her.
“Maybe fifty families,” she said into the phone. “The high school gym has the most space, plus there are showers and the home ec kitchens. Right. No. I’ve called them already. They’re delivering cots and blankets. We’ll have to get the word out for other supplies. I think most of these people have lost everything. Hold on.”
She turned her attention to a couple of teens with clipboards.
“Start collecting names,” she told the kids. “Find out who is missing and what family members need to be reunited. We’ll have an information hotline up within the hour.”
“You’re kidding,” the sleepy teenaged boy said. “How can you do that?”
She gave him a quick smile. “Practice. Now git.”
The kids took off. Marissa completed her phone call, and as she hung up, he approached.
She looked tired, he thought. Dark circles shaded the area under her eyes and he had a feeling her weariness had nothing to do with the fire. He’d hurt her badly. First by making her think there was a possibility for the two of them to have a relationship, then by dismissing her in the cruelest way possible.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I saw the fire.” He paused. What had compelled him out into the night? “I wanted to help. Christopher here seems to have lost his mom.” He briefly recounted the child’s story.
Marissa shook her head. “At least there aren’t that many hospitals to check. Can you take care of him until I can find out how she is?”
“Sure.”
She looked more wary than pleased, which made sense. He thought of a thousand things he would like to say to her, but this wasn’t the time. Instead he carried Christopher over to a relatively quiet grassy area by the parking lot and sat down.
The boy stared at him, and Aaron realized he didn’t have a clue what to do.
“How you doing, sport?” he asked, feeling foolish even as he spoke the words.
The boy shrugged. Aaron struggled to think of something to say that wasn’t frightening or stupid or a lie.
“I want my mom,” Christopher said.
“I know you do, and I want to take you to her. But first my friend Marissa is going to find out where she is. Okay? That may take a little while. But I’m going to stay right here next to you. I’m going to keep you safe.”
Big blue eyes stared at him. “Promise?”
Aaron made an X on his chest. “Cross my heart.”
Christopher nodded, and at the same time he started to cry again. Not knowing what else to do, Aaron pulled him close and wrapped his arms around him.
“It’s okay,” he said, not sure if the words were true.
The tiny body shook. Aaron closed his eyes against the madness around them. For some reason, he thought of Jilly and their son and how he’d held the baby after he was born. Holding Christopher reminded him of all that he’d missed, but oddly enough, the pain wasn’t as bad as he would have thought. Oh, sure, there was a sharpness to it, but he could survive.
He looked at the book the boy had dropped and reached for it.
“I remember this,” he said. “It’s all about cars. Boy, do I like cars. Always did.” He opened the book and began to read.
Two hours later, the fire had been put out. About half the apartments had been destroyed and the rest were smoke and water damaged. Surprisingly, there had only been two injuries, and both had proved minor, which was why Marissa was looking for Aaron. She’d finally located Christopher’s mother at a local hospital. The woman had a slight head injury and was expected to make a full recovery. The doctor wanted her to stay the night for observation, but he planned to release her in the morning.
Marissa had been relieved. Christopher would be happy and she could take him to the hospital on her way home. She would keep him overnight and then reunite him with his mother in the morning.
Everything had worked out better than she’d dared to hope. A fire in a crowded apartment building at night could have meant a devastating loss of life. Instead, everyone was going to be just fine.
Donations from the community had started to pour in and would continue. Once again, she’d made a difference and that felt really good.
Of course it wasn’t enough to fill the gaping hole where her heart used to be, but she was getting used to that empty feeling in her chest. In time, she would stop loving Aaron and move on. Until then, she would put one foot in front of the other to carry on.
She rounded a corner and stumbled to a stop. Disbelief swept through her as she stared at the tall handsome man sitting on the damp grass, reading to several children by the emergency light from a nearby fire truck.
“You are the best baby kitten in the whole world,” he read. “Your soft fur feels nice against my hand and your purr always makes me smile.”
Christopher and a little girl were both snuggled up on Aaron’s lap. Two slightly older kids leaned against him. Several teens were sitting around, holding younger children. And around them, dazed parents looked on with gratitude.
She must have made a sound because they all turned to look at her. She cleared her throat.
“The, uh, buses are here to take everyone to the shelter,” she said. “If you have pets, animal control is offering foster care for as long as you need it.”
The children scrambled up and headed toward their parents, except for Christopher, who clung to Aaron.
“I can take him,” she said when the three of them were alone. She crouched down in front of the boy. “I talked to your mom. She’s feeling just fine. I’m going to drive you to the hospital so you can see her, then we’ll have a sleepover. In the morning, she’ll come get you. How does that sound?”
“No!” Christopher buried his head in Aaron’s shoulder. “Don’t let her take me.”
“I won’t.” Aaron hugged him close. “But I know you want to see your mom. What do you say the three of us go to the hospital together.”
The boy sniffed. “Okay. Don’t forget my book.”
“I won’t.”
Aaron stood. “Does that work for you?”
She nodded as she rose. “Sure. But I don’t understand. What are you doing here?”
“Helping.”
“I got that. But why? I thought you wanted to be alone.”
“I did.” His beautiful dark eyes seemed to see into her soul. “I thought the ghosts were enough, but you were right. Jilly wouldn’t be very proud of me right now.”
Jilly. A beautiful name, she thought.
“I’m done hiding,” he said. “I want to make a difference.”
Good news, she told herself, refusing to hope. “That’s great. There are a lot of local organizations looking for volunteers. I could hook you up with—”
He pressed his fingers over her lips. “I’ll start up my woodworking class again and help out wherever you want, but that’s not what I meant. I want to make a difference here. With you.”
Marissa wanted to believe him, but she still hurt so much. “I
guess we can talk about it later,” she said.
The morning of the auction dawned perfectly clear. Marissa knew, because she’d been awake to see it. Nerves had kept her from sleeping. Nerves and anticipation.
This was the biggest event she’d ever planned. So much was riding on the success of the day. She was supposed to give a big speech right before they auctioned off Aaron’s bookcase and she’d rewritten her text about four million times. As of ten minutes ago, she still didn’t have it right.
“I need to concentrate,” she told herself as she waited for the second pot of coffee to brew. How could she? Between all the last-minute details occupying her mind and the way Aaron kept popping up in her brain, she felt as scattered as a balloon in a twister.
Aaron. He’d been as good as his word. Two weeks ago he’d started up his classes once again, had shown up for literacy training and invited her out to dinner three times. The impending auction meant she hadn’t been able to accept, but she’d been tempted.
Even knowing how he’d hurt her, she’d wanted to see him again, be alone with him. She’d longed to hear him say she mattered, that they belonged together. But would he? Was his transformation about his need to heal the world, or was it about them?
She was willing to admit to more than a little fear on that front. On her good days, she told herself it was important to know where they stood. On her bad days, she wanted to run away and hide.
Promptly at seven-fifteen the phone began to ring as people called with questions about setup and deliveries. She got out of the house at nine and by noon was fighting panic and a headache.
By two, the high school auditorium was standing room only. By four, they’d sold everything but Aaron’s bookcase. Marissa checked her makeup in the tiny cracked mirror backstage as she prepared to head out to deliver her speech on the Motheread/Fatheread® program.
“It’s not here.” Ruby ran up to Marissa and grabbed her arm. “Aaron’s bookcase. It’s not here.”
“What? I saw it this morning.”
“Maybe, but it’s gone now.”
Marissa stared at her friend. “Stolen? But who would do that? I don’t…”
The auctioneer began his introduction.
“You’re on,” Ruby said, pushing her toward the front of the stage. “You’re going to have to stall them while we figure out what we’re going to do.”
“Don’t stall anything,” Aaron said as he approached.
Marissa turned and stared at him. “Did you hear? Your bookcase is missing.”
He smiled a warm, sexy smile that made her heart flutter and her mouth go dry. “I took it home. It wasn’t right.”
“I don’t understand.”
“This program is worth a whole lot more than just a bookcase.”
He jerked his head over his shoulder. Behind him, men were carrying in chairs, tables and sofas. She couldn’t believe it.
“Aaron, I appreciate the gesture, but we can’t possibly sell all that. The people around here don’t have enough money.”
“I know. I’m holding back a couple of chairs for local bidders only, but the rest of it will go onto the Internet auction.”
She blinked. “The what?”
“I’ve been setting it up all week. I sent a mailing to my clients, informing them of the auction. Most of them are sitting in front of their computers, ready to start buying. I’m figuring we’ll get close to five hundred thousand for the lot.”
Ruby gasped. “That’s going to buy a lot of books.”
“My thoughts exactly,” he said.
Marissa didn’t know what to think. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because someone I care about very much once told me that even a single individual can make a difference. I finally figured out she’s right.” He touched her cheek. “That’s your cue.”
“What? Oh.” Marissa smoothed the front of her dress and stepped onto the stage. Everyone in the auditorium applauded her entrance.
“Without this little lady here, we wouldn’t have much of a program at all,” the auctioneer said.
Marissa walked to the microphone and smiled. “Thank you all so much. I’ve just found out there’s going to be a change in the program. There’s no Aaron Cross bookcase to bid on.”
Several people groaned.
“Instead we’re going to auction off an entire collection.”
As the furniture was carried on stage, she explained about the online bidding.
“This all goes for a good cause,” she said. “Most of you know how the Motheread/Fatheread® program has changed so many lives in our community. What you may not know is that we’re reaching beyond our community to men and women in desperate need of a second chance. Volunteers are working with parents in prison. Most of those incarcerated can’t read very well, if at all. They’re away from their children and they don’t know how to be good parents. Our program gives them the opportunity to learn a valuable skill—reading—and to use that skill to become better mothers and fathers. We’re teaching them to communicate, to understand what their children need from them. For many, the love of a child is incentive enough to find a new and better life after being released.”
She looked around at the familiar faces in front of her. “I didn’t grow up in a big family. I was raised in foster care, where no one had the time to read me a story. So I know what it’s like to wish for that connection. For all of you who are willing to give just a little so others can know the pleasure and wonder of reading to their children, I thank you.”
Applause filled the auditorium. One by one, the people rose until they were all standing. Suddenly the stage filled as the volunteers joined her, clapping and cheering.
Marissa didn’t know what to say, where to go. Gratitude filled her. She glanced around and saw Aaron joining in the applause.
As she looked at him, she saw that the pain was gone from his eyes. She’d spent the last two weeks pushing him away and he’d continued to show up. That had to mean something.
Without thinking about the thousand or so people watching, she walked over to him.
“Why are you still here?” she asked.
“Because there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
“Than at the auction?”
He smiled. “Than with you. I meant what I said, Marissa. You got it exactly right. I’ve been living my life the easy way. Staying alone, mourning. What kind of a legacy is that? I’ll always love Jilly and my son, but that doesn’t mean my heart is closed. There’s plenty more love in there for a wonderful woman who constantly pushes me to be my best. I want to be there for you. I want to be the one person you’re willing to lean on. I want to love you and look after you—if you’ll have me.”
He moved closer. “You’re so busy taking care of others, you don’t bother taking care of yourself. The way I see it, you’re in need of a good rescuing, and I’m just the man to do it.”
She was too stunned to speak. This was everything she’d ever dreamed of Aaron saying to her, and yet she couldn’t seem to form any words for a response.
“Kiss him!” somebody yelled.
“What?”
She turned and saw they were the center of attention. Even the auctioneer watched eagerly.
“You heard the nice man,” Aaron said with a grin. “Kiss me.”
“Why should I?”
“Because you love me nearly as much as I love you. Because you’ve spent your whole life falling for the wrong guy, and this time you’ve got it right. And because you want to.”
She started to laugh. “When did you get so smart?”
He picked her up and swung her around. “The day you walked into my shop and started taking over my life.”
She sighed as he set her back on the ground. “That was a good day,” she said, wrapping her arms around him.
“This one’s better.”
He dropped his head and kissed her. Marissa heard cheering in the background, but she couldn’t be bothered to see who it was. No
t when Aaron was there, holding her, wanting her. Loving her.
She drew back. “Did I tell you I love you?”
He cupped her cheek. “With everything you do.”
“All right, you two,” Ruby ordered. “Let’s get off this stage so they can finish up the auction.”
Once they were backstage, Aaron pulled Marissa into a corner. “I want to marry you,” he said. “Let me take care of you, love you. For always.”
She nodded, her throat too tight to speak. He wasn’t just offering her his heart—he was offering the one thing she’d been looking for all her life.
Home.
Dear Reader,
For so many of us, books are magic. They are an escape, a way to learn, to experience a place, a time, or even a galaxy far, far away. Reading is something we look forward to on a long plane ride, on vacation or at the end of a stressful day. But for those who can’t read, life is difficult. And for those who must admit to their children they don’t know how to read, life is filled with shame.
The Motheread/Fatheread® program helps parents with literacy and Dena Wortzel has spearheaded this program in Wisconsin.
Dena is a great advocate of reading. Like many of us, she read constantly as a child. Books were like good friends, only they didn’t have to be in by dark. Dana believes the act of reading is part of being a family. That parents reading to children is vital for the intellectual and emotional growth of the child. The child reading with the parent offers a wonderful connection that bonds the family together.
But Dena does more than talk about the importance of reading. She gets involved. She teaches the principals of Motheread/Fatheread® to inmates in the Wisconsin correctional system.
I loved talking to Dena and using her life as an inspiration for this story. We share a love of words and reading. Dena is amazing—a true example for us all. Writing for this project was an honor and a privilege.
Happy Reading
GLORIA GILBERT STOGA
PUPPIES BEHIND BARS
What can be said about Gloria Gilbert Stoga, who routinely sells hardened convicts on raising puppies in their prison cells? Not only that, the tiny 110-pound marathon runner has the inmates rolling on the ground, crowing like a rooster and dancing—all to train the pups.
More Than Words: Stories of Strength Page 12
