Table of Contents
Copyright
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Epilogue
About the Author
Dedication
Copyright
ISBN 978-1-60260-006-5
Copyright © 2008 by Cecelia Dowdy. All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the permission of Truly Yours, an imprint of Barbour Publishing, Inc., PO Box 721, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683.
Scripture taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version ®. Niv ®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved.
All of the characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental.
Our mission is to publish and distribute inspirational products offering exceptional value and biblical encouragement to the masses.
PRINTED IN THE U.S.A.
Prologue
The loud banging at Monica Crawford’s front door awakened her. Forcing herself out of bed, she glanced at the clock and saw it was two in the morning.
“I’m coming!”
She ran to the door. Looking through the peephole, Monica saw her little sister Gina smiling at her.
Her heart pounded as she opened the door, gripping the knob. “What are you doing here?” Playing an internal game of tug-of-war, she wondered if she should hug her sister or slam the door in her face. Humid heat rushed into the air-conditioned living room. She stared at Gina, still awaiting her response.
“It’s nice to see you too, sister.” Gina pursed her full, red-painted lips and motioned at the child standing beside her. “Go on in, Scotty.”
Gina had brought her seven-year-old son with her. Dark shades hid his sightless eyes. “Aunt Monica!” he called.
Monica released a small cry as she dropped to her knees and embraced him. “I’m here, Scotty.” Tears slid down her cheeks as she hugged the child. Since Gina had cut herself off from immediate family for the last two years, Monica had wondered when she would see Scotty again. “You remember me?” Her heart continued to pound as she stared at her nephew. His light, coffee-colored skin glowed.
“Yeah, I remember you. When Mom said I was going to live here, I wanted to come so we could go to the beach in Ocean City.”
Shocked, Monica stared at Gina, who was rummaging through her purse. Gina pulled out a cigarette and lighter. Seconds later she was puffing away, gazing into the living room. “You got an ashtray?”
Monica silently prayed, hoping she wouldn’t lose her temper. “Gina, you know I don’t allow smoking in this house.”
Gina shrugged. After a bit of coaxing, she dropped the cigarette on the top step and ground it beneath the heel of her shoe. “I need to talk to you about something.”
Scotty entered the house and wandered through the room, ignoring the adults as he touched objects with his fingers. After Monica fed Scotty a snack and let him fall asleep in the guest bedroom, she confronted Gina.
“Where have you been for the past two years?”
Gina strutted around the living room in her tight jeans, her high heels making small imprints in the plush carpet. “I’ve been around. I was mad because Mom and Dad tried to get custody of Scotty, tried to take me to court and say I was an unfit mother.”
Groaning, Monica plopped onto the couch, holding her head in her hands. “That’s why you haven’t been speaking to me or Mom and Dad for two years?” When Gina sat beside her, Monica took her sister’s chin in her hand and looked into her eyes. “You know you were wrong. Mom and Dad tried to find you. They were worried about Scotty.”
Jerking away, Gina placed a few inches between herself and Monica. “They might have cared about Scotty, but they didn’t care about me.” Gina swore under her breath and dug through her purse. Removing a mint, she popped it into her mouth.
“They were worried about you and Scotty,” Monica explained. “You were living with that terrible man. He didn’t work, and he was high on drugs. We didn’t want anything to happen to the two of you.”
Gina’s lips curled into a bitter smirk. “Humph. Me and Scotty are just fine.” She glanced up the stairs. “You saw him. Does he look neglected to you?”
She continued to stare at Gina, still not believing she was here to visit in the middle of the night. “What do you want? What did Scotty mean when he said he was coming here to live?”
Gina frowned as she toyed with the strap of her purse. “I want you to keep Scotty for me. Will you?”
Monica jerked back. “What? Why can’t you take care of your own son? Did that crackhead you were living with finally go off the deep end?”
Gina shook her head. “No, we’re not even together anymore. It’s just that. . .” She paused, staring at the crystal vase of red roses adorning the coffee table. “I’m getting married.”
Monica’s heart skipped a beat. “Married?”
Gina nodded, her long minibraids moving with the motion of her head. “Yeah, his name is Randy, and he’s outside now, waiting for me in the car.”
Monica raised her eyebrows, suddenly suspicious. “Why didn’t you bring him inside? Are you ashamed of him?”
Gina shook her head. “No. But we’re in a hurry tonight, and I didn’t want to waste time with formalities.”
“You still haven’t told me why you can’t keep Scotty. Does your fiancé have a problem with having a blind child in his house?”
Gina scowled as she clutched her purse, her dark eyes darting around the room. “No, that’s not it at all.”
“Uh-huh, whatever you say.” She could always sense when Gina was lying. Her body language said it all.
“Really, it’s not Scotty’s blindness that bothers Randy. It’s just that—he’s a trapeze artist in the National African-American Circus, and they’re traveling around constantly.” Her dark eyes lit up as she talked about her fiancé. “This year they’ll be going international. Can you imagine me traveling around the globe with Randy? We’ll be going to Paris, London, Rome—all those fancy European places!” She grabbed Monica’s arm. “We’d love to take Scotty, but we can’t afford to hire a tutor for him to travel with us.”
“You’re going to marry some man and travel with a circus?” Monica shook her head, wondering when her sister would grow up. At twenty-seven, she acted as if she were still a teenager. Since Monica was ten years older, she’d always been the responsible sibling, making sure Gina behaved herself.
Gina grabbed Monica’s shoulder. “But I’m in love with him!” Her eyes slid over Monica as if assessing her. “You’ve never been in love? I think it’s odd that you’re thirty-seven and you never got married.”
Monica closed her eyes for a brief second as thoughts of her single life filled her mind. Since her breakup with her serious boyfriend two years ago, she’d accepted that God wanted her to remain single, and she spent her free time at church in various ministries. She filled her time praising God and serving Him, and she had no regrets for the life she led. But whenever o
ne of the church sisters announced an engagement, she couldn’t stop the pang of envy that sliced through her.
Forcing the thoughts from her mind, she focused on Gina again. “This discussion is not about me. It’s about you. You can’t abandon Scotty. He loves you.”
Gina turned away, as if ashamed of her actions. “I know he does, and I love him, too. But I really want things to work out with Randy, and it won’t work with Scotty on the road with us. He needs special education since he’s blind.”
Her heart immediately went out to Scotty. She touched Gina’s shoulder. “Scotty knows you’re getting married?”
Gina nodded. “I didn’t tell him how long I would be gone, but I told him I’d call and visit. Please do this for me.” Her sister touched her arm, and her dark eyes pleaded with her. She opened her purse and gave Monica some papers. “I’ve already had the power of attorney papers signed and notarized so that you can take care of him.” She pressed the papers into Monica’s hand.
“How long will you be gone?” asked Monica.
“The power of attorney lasts for six months. Hopefully by then me and Randy will be more settled. I’m hoping after the world tour he’ll leave the circus and find a regular job.”
Monica frowned, still clutching the legal documents.
“Please do this for me, Monica,” she pleaded again.
She reluctantly nodded. If she didn’t take care of Scotty, she didn’t know who would.
One
Ms. Lattimore, the principal of Scotty’s school, closed the folder and patted Monica’s arm. “Scotty needs tutoring. He’s way below grade level.”
Monica sipped her coffee, digesting the news. The aromatic blend slid down her parched throat. As bright sunlight, brilliant as buttercups, streamed through the window, she tried to focus on the principal’s words.
She leaned back into the leather chair, gazing at Scotty’s teacher and the school principal. Since Gina had left Scotty at her door two months ago, Monica’s life had been one hectic cyclone.
“What do you suggest?” Monica asked.
Scotty’s teacher, a specialist in the area of visual impairment named Mrs. Brown, gave her opinion. “You could hire a tutor. Scotty seems bright enough, but I just don’t think his mother sent him to school very often.” She pointed to a folder on the desk. “As a matter of fact, we’ve got the records from Scotty’s old school. It says his attendance was poor, but he was bright and asked lots of questions.” She removed a paper from the folder and quickly scanned it. “Ms. Crawford, he barely knows the braille alphabet. He needs help in all of his subjects.”
Monica was not surprised. Gina had never been very responsible. Scotty’s poor school attendance was another problem she had to solve in her nephew’s life.
She’d found that Scotty wasn’t used to living by rules. He had a smart mouth and he sulked, refusing to go to bed at the same time each night. Sometimes he cussed under his breath. Each time Monica said a silent prayer, asking God to give her the wisdom to deal with Scotty’s negative habit.
It saddened her to learn he had no spiritual training. Hopefully he would learn to understand God’s way of life from his now-regular church attendance.
“How do I find a tutor?” Monica asked.
Ms. Lattimore stood and walked to a gray file cabinet. Pulling it open, she removed a piece of paper. “I have somebody who can help you.”
Monica accepted the paper and wondered how much this was going to cost. Gina had left no money to pay for Scotty’s care. Another lesson Monica had learned since she was now raising her nephew: Little boys were expensive and they ate a lot of food. Having a new dependent was causing her to live on a shoestring budget. Monica read the name printed on the paper. “Dr. John French?”
Mrs. Brown nodded, her blond hair swinging over her shoulders. “Yes, he’s your best bet. He’s licensed to teach visually impaired children. He’s taught many students over the years. He knows braille, and he’s familiar with the methods of teaching math to a blind child using an abacus and a talking calculator.”
“Is he very expensive?” Monica asked.
Ms. Lattimore beamed. “That’s what’s so amazing about him. He doesn’t charge for his services. He considers it his contribution to the community. If you’ll read farther down on his résumé, you’ll see he’s a science professor at the University of Maryland at Eastern Shore.”
Intrigued, Monica perused John French’s list of assets. She truly sensed the Lord had given her this opportunity. After all of Scotty’s expenses, she didn’t think she could afford a tutor. But since it was for her nephew, she would have found a way to make ends meet. She noticed a phone number listed at the bottom of the paper.
“So I’ll need to give him a call?”
Ms. Lattimore shook her head. “No, you don’t have to call him. He’s here at the school now, since our volunteer tutors are having a meeting.” She checked her wristwatch. “They should be getting out shortly. I already told him he should stop by the office after the meeting is over. We’ve heard nothing but good things about him. He likes helping children, and I feel that he’ll be more than happy to help Scotty.”
Monica nodded, still praising God for this unique opportunity. Glancing around the office, she thought about Scotty’s school experience here in Ocean City, Maryland. She was pleased he was able to go to a regular public school with Mrs. Brown as his visually-impaired-education teacher. She wanted to make sure he interacted with sighted people regularly.
Her thoughts were interrupted as the door opened, squeaking on rusty hinges. Her heart hammered as an attractive man strolled into the office. His skin was the color of dark coffee, and his eyes shone with kindness.
He smiled before speaking. “Hi, I’m John French.” He strolled over. Monica felt as if she were the only woman in the room as he looked at her. When he shook her hand, currents of warmth traveled up her arm. She glanced at his fingers and noted he wore no wedding band. She opened her mouth to speak, but before words could tumble out, Ms. Lattimore stood, interrupting their introduction. A blush stained the principal’s pale cheeks, and she laughed, placing her hand on John’s arm. “John, it is nice to see you again.” Fluttering her long lashes, she squeezed his upper arm.
Monica’s mouth nearly dropped open as she watched the display of affection. She cleared her throat, wanting to get the discussion back to the matter at hand. “I’m Monica Crawford. Ms. Lattimore told me you might be able to help my nephew, Scotty.”
As he nodded, she tried to make a conscious effort not to stare. Strands of gray peppered his dark hair. Releasing his hand, she leaned back into the chair, hoping her palpitating heart would slow down.
Taking a vacant chair, he continued to smile. The woodsy scent of his aftershave filled the room, making her even more aware of his presence. “I’ve already met Scotty.”
“You did?” Monica couldn’t hide her surprise.
“Yes, he’s sitting right down the hallway on the bench. It was easy for me to figure out who he was.”
Monica removed her electronic planner from her purse. “So, when did you want to start?” She held the device in her hand, ready to enter the correct data into her schedule.
He chuckled, his eyes twinkling. “You’re a lady that gets right down to business.”
Before she could respond, Ms. Lattimore commented, “Mrs. Brown and I feel Scotty needs a tutor at least twice a week in order to bring him up to the same level as his peers.”
As Ms. Lattimore and Mrs. Brown gave their advice, Monica tried to pay attention. However, she found herself paying more attention to John.
The group stood after Scotty’s academic discussion was finished. Ms. Lattimore rushed over to John and shook his hand. “If you have questions about any of Scotty’s academic needs, you can call me.”
Monica lifted
her purse and turned toward the door, eager to get Scotty home so he could start on his homework. The sound of John’s footsteps followed her as she exited the office.
“Wow, you sure are in a hurry.” The amused tone of his voice floated around her, making her aware of how rushed she’d become since Scotty had arrived in her life.
She stopped several yards away from where her nephew sat. “I just want to get Scotty started on his homework.” She glanced at the little boy. “I’m so worried about him. I know life will be hard for him since he’s disabled, but the least he can do is get back on his grade level.” Blinking rapidly, she turned away from Scotty’s new tutor, not wanting him to see the emotional tears suddenly filling her eyes.
“Hey,” John said softly, placing his hand on her shoulder. “Everything will be okay—you’ll see. Wait here a second.” She continued to blink away tears as John reentered the office. He appeared seconds later with a tissue. She turned and blew her nose as embarrassment filled her soul.
John took control of the situation as he led her to Scotty. “I know this may sound a little forward, but how about joining me for a bite to eat?”
She stopped walking. “Why?”
“So we can discuss Scotty’s needs.” He gestured toward the office door. “From what I’ve heard in there, he really needs help. But if we can buckle down, get him right to work, I can almost guarantee I’ll have him on grade level by the end of the school year.”
She chuckled, throwing her soiled tissue away in a nearby trash can. “We’re one week into the semester. Are you sure you can have him back on his grade level by the end of the school year?”
He shook his head, still gazing at her with his warm brown eyes. “Well, yes, I think it’s possible.” She felt flustered under his scrutiny. “Do you mind if I call you Monica? You can call me John.”
She nodded as they approached Scotty. “Well, I don’t know about getting something to eat.”
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