“I’m getting calls left and right today from people wanting to know why I’m helping to close small businesses. You need to meet with that teacher again. Do something. And then we need a follow-up story that’s more favorable to our side. Angela Ruiz wants to see you personally involved. Offer the teacher some help, business owner to business owner. Find a way for her to move, and you’ll be a hero.”
Great. Carter was asking him to be Gracie’s business mentor. It figured.
Jake wrapped up the call and pulled back onto the quiet highway. That peaceful feeling he’d just had moments ago flew away like a seagull chasing a meal.
One more shot. Out of respect for Carter Porter and their friendship dating back to their school days, he’d give Gracie Garcia one more shot. He hoped sitting through one night of class would help him pass Angela Ruiz’s test.
When he arrived, Juan and Pablo were just getting out of their cars.
“So, when does the class start?” Jake asked, tired of cooling his heels in a parking lot that felt more brimstone than balmy, even as the early Texas summer evening was setting in.
“About two or three minutes. Gracie will open the door as soon as she has everything ready to go. She takes good care of us,” Juan replied.
A brief snort pushed through Jake’s nose. He remembered Mitch’s words earlier today about Gracie’s organizational skills. Just as paying bills late wasn’t a good sign for a business, taking good care of your clients never included leaving them waiting in a parking lot while you did last-minute preparations.
“Allergies, Mr. Jake?” Pablo looked at him, head tilted a little to one side.
Jake forced himself to focus. “What? Oh, no, not allergies.”
“I know you’ve been away for a while, Mr. Jake, so you probably don’t remember when I was hired at the company,” Juan said. “Drug violence forced me to unexpectedly leave my home in Colombia. I knew some English, but not enough to get another job in a bank as I had back home, so I took a job as just another member of the landscape crew to support my family. By working with Gracie, I’m fluent in English. Now, I manage everything your company does to keep the properties looking great from the outside. In the middle of the night, I left everything behind in Colombia. But Gracie always believed in me and her work here at El Centro has helped me provide for my family here and keep others in my country safe.”
Jake tried to take in all of Juan’s story. He’d never realized that his good-natured employee had given up everything so his family would be safe from violence. Jake knew Juan was a hard worker. But he never realized how hard Juan had to work outside his job—here at El Centro—in order to secure his future.
He never realized that a teacher in a small school could impact people around the world.
“Thanks for sharing that with me, Juan.” Jake wanted to say more, but the sound of a clicking noise made Jake look over his shoulder. The front door started to swing open. Before he could finish his conversation with his employees, the signal for class to start swept everyone inside.
Gracie stood in the doorway. Using only her feet, she struggled to push the doorstop in firmly enough to hold the heavy, oversized door open. Juan and Pablo walked past and Gracie leaned in as though she were whispering something.
“Está bien,” Jake heard Gracie say as he stepped inside. “Now, sit. Sientese.”
She pointed toward the chairs in the room, but laughed as she said the phrase. It brought a musical tone to match the wide smile on her face. He wasn’t 100 percent sure what she’d just said, but the twinkle in her eyes made it hard to look away.
“Mr. Peoples,” Gracie said, her smile dropping into an expression of shock as she noticed Jake. “What are you doing here?”
He shoved his hands into his pockets. With effort, he pulled his gaze downward for a split second. “I’m here to learn more about the school.”
He couldn’t say he was looking forward to the class or the work because, well, he wasn’t. He was just doing what the City Council expected of him—an hour of due diligence to see what help could be offered. And he wasn’t about to lie about it, even if the smile on her face dropped a few inches at the sound of his blunt statement.
Remember why you’re here, Peoples, he reminded himself. Just check this box, then report back to Carter so he can arrange a follow-up with KPPT-TV.
“Um. Okay.” She shook her head almost imperceptibly, then turned and started to walk away from the door and Jake. “The classroom’s back here.”
Just inside the door to the left was a set of closed French doors. He looked through the delicate glass panes into the dimly lit room, Jake could make out a desk with an older, boxy computer on top, as well as some filing cabinets. That must be Gracie’s office. He looked past the “Private” sign hanging on the handrail of the staircase and assumed Gracie’s own apartment took up the second floor of the renovated two-story house.
Jake didn’t know exactly what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this. The whole building appeared well-kept. As the landlord, he could appreciate that. It seemed as if time and effort had not just been merely spent, but lavished, in order to make this area into a pleasant environment.
From hearing Mitch’s earlier words, Jake never would have guessed that Gracie’s school and home would look like this. He expected at least disarray, if not some form of chaos.
“If you’d like, you may sit there.” She gestured to a blue plastic chair at the end of one of the middle tables. “Okay, everyone, go ahead and take your seats.”
Gracie moved to the front of the room and began to write on the whiteboard with a red marker. She spelled out “FOOD” in clear, neat letters.
“I know many of you work in restaurants, and for a number of you, the American dream means opening a restaurant of your own. That was the dream in my own family. My parents opened Huarache’s Café shortly after we came from Mexico. I grew up in the restaurant and learned just what hard work in a great country can bring.” Gracie nodded and made eye contact with three or four students. “In Beginning ESL, we learned basic words for food and what we do in the kitchen. Tonight, we’ll practice our English by doing a few restaurant dialogues with a partner and writing our own restaurant menus.”
Restaurant menus? Jake was no longer impressed. He could not believe his ears. This is what El Centro taught? Graciela Garcia de Piedra missed her calling. She should have opened an acting academy instead of an ESL school. She fooled her City Council representative into thinking El Centro served as some necessary educational center. Instead, here her students sat, writing restaurant menus.
“We also have a special guest tonight, local developer Jake Peoples.” Gracie pointed in Jake’s direction and he raised his hand slightly in acknowledgment. A small chorus of “Holá” overlapped by “Hello” carried across the room. Some voices sounded quiet and shy, others seemed louder and more confident. Their teacher may have planned menu-writing as a lesson, but at least the students were friendly—even if Jake could clearly tell they weren’t going to learn anything useful tonight.
“Okay, class, let’s get started. Open your workbooks to page forty-two.” Gracie’s slim fingers flipped the switch on an overhead projector and laid a transparency slide atop the glass plate. Watching her hands, Jake noticed that all her nails appeared short. Studying them more closely, he could see that each was chewed down to where the white tip just barely peeked over the top of the pad on the finger.
Once the students appeared ready, she began the lesson with a review of basic food and cooking vocabulary. Then, the students broke up into groups of two in order to practice dialogues from the workbook. Jake watched as everyone else at his table paired off.
He remained alone.
“Would you like to come work with us, Mr. Jake?” Juan gestured to an empty plastic chair beside Pablo.
Jake nodded. H
e appreciated that Juan and Pablo tried to make him feel welcome.
Participating in the exercise seemed about as exciting as microwaving a bowl of soup. He checked his watch. He couldn’t possibly stay for the whole class.
The room quickly filled with the sounds of students talking to one another. Even though everyone seemed to be taking the assignment seriously, Jake noted with some surprise that every face he could see wore a smile. They appeared to enjoy the work. He certainly couldn’t remember any smiles in mock court back in law school. Or in his economics class while he earned his MBA. There weren’t many professors at the University of Texas who brought anything other than a syllabus to class, certainly not personal relationships.
But then again, there weren’t many professors at one of the world’s largest universities who would consider menu-writing a real lesson.
The only person not smiling was the teacher. Gracie’s forehead furrowed as she noticed Jake in the corner chair. She didn’t say a word, but just kept walking briskly past him, then disappeared behind a small door in the back corner of the room. Jake nodded to himself as it clicked shut.
Just as Mitch had said earlier, Gracie appeared to be in over her head. Before Jake ever set foot inside El Centro, he could see that. Judging by her nervousness tonight, his first impression turned out to be absolutely correct.
Really, there wasn’t much more to observe about the center. Jake knew from a quick Google search that three churches on Provident Island provided small English as a Second Language programs. This school wasn’t anything special. When El Centro closed, the students could still get help on their language skills elsewhere, Jake could have his condo development and Gracie Garcia could be freed of the financial burden of running this place.
Sitting through this class had so far proven not to be a good use of his time. There was only one more box to check: getting out of here as soon as possible in a way that would ruffle as few feathers as possible. He could probably get Gracie a listing of local apartments to rent, and recommend her for a job to the directors of those other ESL programs. Surely Nana had worked with at least one of them through the Peoples Family Foundation and would make an introduction. He’d brainstorm some details back at the office and let Carter—and Gracie—know in the morning.
As Jake stood, Juan and Pablo paused from looking up a word in the Spanish-English dictionary.
“Did you change your mind about working with us, Mr. Jake?” Pablo asked.
“I think I’ve seen what I need to see for tonight.”
“So you like El Centro, sí?” Juan nodded at Jake. “I know Gracie has plans to do big things here. But she needs someone like you who can help her. We think it’s great you’re here.”
“I’m only here because the City Council asked me to come see if there was a way to cause Gracie as little hassle as possible before Peoples Property Group finishes the new condo project on this land.”
Juan shook his head. “El Centro’s still going to close?”
“Next week, barring any further complications. I think it will work out in the end for everyone.”
“Mr. Jake, you can’t do that. This place is special.” Worry settled across Juan’s heavy brow. Pablo remained silent, looking down at the table.
“There are other ESL programs in town,” Jake said. “That big church over on Fifty-Second Street offers classes. And they’d probably be happy to have Gracie’s help.”
“Mr. Jake, it wouldn’t be the same. Gracie holds classes in the evenings for those of us who work during the day. She stays open on weekends and makes sure the classes are what all of us are looking for. She makes it personal.” Juan pointed to the worksheets for the evening’s lesson. “Most of the people here work for restaurants, so Gracie makes sure that there are a lot of lessons focusing on those things. She’s created lessons just for Pablo and me, too.”
“I appreciate that you both are taking the initiative to advance in your careers,” Jake said. He admired their loyalty to the school, and the teacher who ran it. But the only thing that concerned Jake right now was showing the Peoples Property Group board of directors that he could indeed be trusted with his family’s legacy.
“Mr. Jake,” Pablo broke in. “We’ve said it before, but maybe you don’t understand. This school doesn’t just benefit us. It benefits you. Juan and I are better employees for you because of what we learn here.”
Surprising himself, Jake sat down in the chair next to his head of maintenance. He remembered Juan’s story about leaving Colombia in the middle of the night and coming to a country where he could barely speak the language. Jake himself knew something about starting over. In recognition of that kindred spirit, he knew he needed to invest five more minutes with two employees who were trying to be the best they could be.
* * *
Clearly, there had been no benefit in inviting Jake to come tonight.
Gracie tried not to stare too obviously through the lacy curtains covering the glass in the door connecting her office and the classroom. Why was he just sitting there?
First, Jake spent most of his time sitting in the corner like a preschooler in time-out. Now, finally, he moved to a table with Pablo and Juan. Gracie wished she had some superpowers in order to hear the discussion through the walls of her office. But since that wasn’t realistic, her only option seemed to be to quit acting like un pollo grande.
She had to stop being a big chicken. Curiosity finally got the best of her, and she opened the door and started toward the table.
Wait a minute. Wouldn’t do to look too desperate.
Gracie turned and walked to a table a little farther away first. “Hi, Patricia. Everything going okay?”
“Yes, Gracie. Laura and me, we’re almost finished with our dialogue.”
“Laura and I.” She smiled as she corrected the common grammatical error, wanting to make her student comfortable. Patricia had elementary school-aged children and Gracie always tried to be sensitive to the fact that it could be awkward for Patricia, as an adult, to be learning many of the same language rules and lessons her children were being taught. “If you finish early, find a table to trade with and practice your dialogues with someone else.”
Gracie consciously willed her feet not to move any quicker than normal while walking to Juan and Pablo’s table. She badly wanted to know what was being said, but if things were as gloomy as they looked from the office, maybe ignorance was bliss.
“How’s everything going here?” Gracie smiled at Juan and Pablo, but really meant the words for Jake.
“Miss Gracie, we’re talking with Mr. Jake. We don’t want to see the school close.” Pablo laid Gracie’s ultimate fear out on the table like the workbooks and dictionaries.
Apparently Jake hadn’t seen anything to change his mind.
The lump pushed its way up to the back of her throat. She would not allow them to see her cry. Pivoting on the balls of her feet, Gracie took off running for the office. Her shoes slid on the freshly waxed hardwood floor, skidding a little to the right, a little to the left.
Tears pooled in Gracie’s eyes, blurring her vision.
Breathe, Gracie reminded herself. Even though she knew that’s what she should do, surges of adrenaline continued forcing their way through her veins and would not allow her to maintain a slow, calming breathing pattern. Gracie exhaled as a hand pressed firmly on the small of her back.
“Come with me.” Jake’s low voice whispered into her ear. His words caused the tap of embarrassment to open all the way. Why him?
Jake’s hand stayed on her back. She could feel his fingers through the thin cotton of her shirt. Her stomach lightly fluttered as he steered her toward the door to the office.
His free right hand reached out for the doorknob, swiftly turned it and pulled back, ushering her into the office. The door clicked behind them, sep
arating them from the room full of students.
The silence beat on Gracie’s eardrums more loudly than the recent commotion. She needed to thank Jake for getting her out of the classroom, but couldn’t seem to speak. It was his fault that she found herself in this situation in the first place.
“Do you need to sit down?” Jake asked and walked around the room to Gracie’s desk, then pulled out the chair.
Nodding, Gracie took a few steps and gratefully sat down. The hard plastic of the chair felt cold on her thighs. “I guess you have a nicer chair than this. Probably leather, right?”
“Yeah, it’s leather. Why?”
Gracie craned her neck so she could look Jake in the eye. “I don’t know. The thought just occurred to me.” Not too long ago, Gracie considered herself successful. El Centro por las Lenguas didn’t carry debt and paid the bills every month, even though most months required some kind of juggling. There was little room for anything else, not even new furniture. Almost everything in her school was a hand-me-down. In a matter of days, her dreams would be secondhand as well. “I’ll never have a fancy leather chair.”
“Do you want one? I’m sure there’s an extra one at my office somewhere.”
“What would be the point? You’d just have to move it back after you shut me down.”
Gracie stood up. She felt licks of flames in her soul. Instead of worrying, she needed to be doing something. She didn’t have any more time to waste in the office or with Jake Peoples.
“Excuse me, Mr. Peoples.” Gracie hoped he could hear the determination in her voice. She kept her eyes lowered, because she knew if she locked on Jake’s gaze, she’d lose her resolve. Even when they argued, his eyes always held a slightly mischievous gleam that made her lose her train of thought. And right now, she didn’t want to think of Jake Peoples as boyishly attractive. She wanted to remember him as the stumbling block to her dreams. “I have classes to teach while I still have time to do so.”
Saving Gracie Page 4
