by Katie Powner
But Mr. Fletcher would notice.
She started the car and awaited his instructions.
“Check your mirrors and look behind you before backing up.”
While no one would be around this early in the morning, she checked and double-checked before grabbing the shifter, pressing down on the brake with her foot, and trying to put the car in reverse. The shifter wouldn’t move. She wiggled it, pulling harder. Nothing.
“Ahem.” Mr. Fletcher made a note on his clipboard. “You have to press down on the brake pedal to shift gears, Miss Walters.”
Rob and Izzy chuckled behind her. Heat crawled up her face from her neck. So that was why the engine was revving.
She lifted her foot off the gas pedal and depressed the brake. “There we go.”
She slid the shifter in reverse and inched her way out of the parking space, swiveling to look all around and behind her the whole time.
Izzy leaned close to Rob and whispered, “She drives like my grandma.”
Rob snickered. Rae tried to ignore them. Once she had room, she straightened the car and drove to the end of the parking lot but stopped short of pulling onto the road. She gave her left a long look. Then her right. The road stretched before her like a long list of expectations and demands.
“Every assignment is major, Rae.”
She clenched the wheel. She couldn’t give her parents any reason to be angry with each other or throw blame around.
“I’ve never seen a kid so dedicated.”
“I don’t need to remind you how important this is.”
She had to succeed.
“What are you waiting for?” Mr. Fletcher asked. “There’s no one coming.”
Focus. Focus.
“Which way?” The pitch of her voice was too high.
“Turn left.” Mr. Fletcher pointed. “We’ll head down to Fifth and hit a few stoplights, then drive over toward Howard Elementary, where they have that roundabout.”
Rae gulped. A roundabout? Might as well rip up The Plan right now. She was doomed.
MR. FLETCHER DROVE the car back into the school parking lot about ten minutes before the first bell. Rae slumped in the seat next to him. As far as she knew, no one had ever been asked—er, commanded—to give up the wheel halfway through their drive and let the instructor take over.
Rob and Izzy murmured to each other in the back, and she could only imagine what they were talking about. Even they had stopped nuzzling each other’s necks and come up for air when she ran a red light and that SUV almost hit them. She hurried out of the car without looking back. Thank goodness Mr. Fletcher had made them all put their phones away for the drive, or who knew how many videos Izzy could’ve posted to social media by now.
Inside the building, a hooded head that looked like Morgan’s bobbed among the swarming masses at the other end of the hall.
“Morgan,” she called. “Hey, Morgan, wait up.”
He ducked into the bathroom. Had he been too far away to hear or was he avoiding her? She was pondering the likelihood of the latter when Kylee appeared.
“Where’s your usual Monday morning cheer?” Kylee folded her hands under her chin and gave an exaggerated smile.
Rae frowned. “I’m not that bad.”
“Didn’t you have a drive this morning?”
Rae looked away. “Yes.”
“How’d it go?”
Fibbing or changing the subject crossed her mind, but Rae knew Kylee would find out sooner or later. Rob and Izzy were known for a lot of things, but keeping gossip to themselves was not one of them.
“I bombed big-time.”
“Uh-huh.” Kylee smirked. “Sure.”
“Mr. Fletcher wouldn’t even let me drive back to the school. He told me I was ‘a menace to society.’”
“Is he allowed to say that?”
Rae shrugged. “He said it.”
Kylee gave her a sidelong look. “So it really was bad?”
“Yep. You might have to eat that salad, after all.”
Kylee grabbed her arm. “You wouldn’t do that to me, would you?”
Rae hung her head as they walked down the hall. “Can we talk about something else?”
A wicked grin split Kylee’s face. “Like David? Oh, look. Speak of the devil.”
He burst between them, flinging an arm around each of their necks.
Rae looked up, her face suddenly warm. “Hi, David.”
He smiled. “Good morning.”
“Ew.” Kylee shook him off. “You’re one of those cheery Monday people, too. Gross.”
He let Kylee distance herself but kept his arm around Rae, giving her his full attention. “How was your drive this morning? I had my fingers crossed for you.”
Kylee scowled. “Oh, please.”
Rae’s heart squeezed. “Um, it was . . .”
“She ran over two puppies and a nun.” Kylee pointed a finger at David. “You better watch out.”
“Kylee.” Rae gave her the look. “Don’t you have government first period?”
Kylee tugged at the oversized metal skulls hanging from her ears. “So?”
“So aren’t you going the wrong direction?”
Kylee gave an exasperated sigh. “Fine.” She turned to go. “I guess I’ll see you guys later.”
As her friend walked away, Rae became instantly and acutely aware of David’s arm still hanging over her. She pictured Rob and Izzy and pulled away.
David didn’t seem bothered. “You going to Community Hope today?”
“Of course.”
“Then you have Driver’s Ed.?”
He already knew she did. She nodded.
“I guess you’re pretty busy these days, huh?”
She tucked her hair behind her ears and shrugged. “Isn’t everyone?”
“Yeah, but even straight A students should have some fun once in a while.”
He gave her an intent look, and her heart began to hammer. What was he getting at?
His smile grew. “What are you doing on Saturday?”
The color drained from her face. At least she was pretty sure it did. Not that she could feel her face, because her whole body was suddenly numb. She concentrated on the floor in front of her. Was he . . . ?
“Um . . .”
He slowed his pace. “I was hoping maybe we could go to a movie.”
Her eyes widened.
“Or something else, if you want.” He held up his hands and laughed. “I’m open to suggestions.”
This was not how she imagined it. She never thought that when the day came to stick to The Plan and turn some poor schmuck down, it would be someone she actually cared about.
“David, I—uh—can’t.”
His confident smile wavered. “Hey, no big deal. If you’re busy this weekend, we can try next weekend instead. I’m flexible.”
“No, I mean . . .” Her heart did this kind of weird squeezing thing that felt like dying. “I can’t go out with you.”
“You can’t?” A flicker of pain flashed in his eyes. “Or you won’t?”
She never should’ve let it get this far. Never should’ve encouraged him to volunteer with her or let him sit with her at lunch. See where that sort of thing led?
“My parents don’t allow me to date. They want me to focus on my schoolwork.”
“You have all A’s. I don’t think schoolwork is a problem.”
“Yes, but—”
“Can’t you talk to them about it? I just want to spend time with you. It’s nothing serious.”
She looked into his face, so hopeful and eager and sincere. Her parents hadn’t brought up the boyfriend issue since the beginning of the school year when they gave their annual obligatory “Keep your eyes on the prize” speech. What would they do if she brought it up now? They might change their minds if she begged. But given their strange behavior lately, and the hard set of their faces, she had her doubts.
“I don’t know. . . .”
“Oh.” He came to
a full stop now. “Okay. I get it.”
He turned to go.
“David, wait.” She grasped for his arm, but he was already out of reach. “You don’t understand.”
But something about the way he continued walking, as if he hadn’t heard her, and the way he hung his head, the set of his shoulders, told her maybe he did understand. He understood exactly what had just happened.
She had turned him down.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
Gerrit crossed to the other side of the truck and let Daisy out. He hadn’t left the house without her since The Incident. She hadn’t complained, but he felt self-conscious driving around town with a dog. And a corgi at that. Not even a manly dog.
He glanced around the yard. Bernard the Terrible was nowhere in sight. It was almost as if he’d been avoiding Gerrit since last week. Or waiting for the ideal time to cause more trouble. Hannie had found the whole story about the police officer highly amusing and had wondered aloud if maybe Bernard was worth having around, after all. But Gerrit had already determined the rooster’s days were numbered. As soon as he could figure out a way to utilize the evil monster for one more payback on George, the creature would be gone for good.
He lumbered to the mailbox and pulled out a couple of envelopes. One was a monthly account statement from the bank. He didn’t have to open it to know what it would say. That they’d been withdrawing almost a thousand bucks a month from savings for expenses. That his nest egg was already being eaten away by groceries, insurance, taxes, and prescriptions.
A quick calculation told him it would be gone in ten years. He’d need to die when he was seventy-three. Then his life insurance policy would buy Hannie a few more years. But what about a new car for her? A boiler for the shop? Thinking about spending money on those things felt like taking years off his life. And what if he or Hannie got sick? Or, heaven forbid, Evi decided to get married, and they had to pay for the wedding?
Luke would tell him to have some faith. “God will provide,” he always said. Well, Gerrit wasn’t going to count on that. He would provide for himself.
Daisy ran a circle around his legs, then set a course for the barn. Gerrit grunted. Rae must be in there. When he saw her Monday at Community Hope, she’d hardly said two words to him the whole time, and yesterday wasn’t any different. Morgan told Gerrit about all the famous songwriters he knew of until he was blue in the face, while across the room Rae had looked like she had a Supra Sulfa calf bolus the size of his thumb stuck in her throat.
He poked his head in the barn and squinted in the gloom. He had moved one of the deck chairs into the barn for Rae to use, and there she sat now, her raggedy cat in her lap.
“Why don’t you turn on the light?”
She didn’t look up. “Oh. Sorry. I forgot.”
He pushed the door open all the way. “You forgot?”
For a minute, he stared at Rae’s face. Only, it looked a lot like Evi’s. He’d seen that look on his daughter a thousand times but never understood it. Never asked about it, afraid she’d bite his head off if he tried. Ignoring it had seemed like a safer strategy at the time.
He needed to call her again. Memorial Day weekend was just three weeks and two days away.
Daisy sniffed at Rae’s sleeve as if she had a dog treat hidden up there.
Rae didn’t try to push her away. “She smells the puppies.” Her voice was quiet and lifeless.
“What puppies?”
“Kylee’s stepdad’s dog had puppies, and I went to see them.”
“Oh.” He rubbed the back of his neck. Why would she be upset about puppies? “Okaaay.”
Daisy satisfied her curiosity and then curled up at Rae’s feet, resting her head on her paws. Rae hardly noticed. She just kind of sat there, slouching. The whole scene was rather pathetic.
“What’s your problem?” He gulped. That hadn’t come out right. “I mean, is everything okay? You look disturbed.”
That wasn’t much better. Rae scowled, and his shoulders tensed. No wonder he’d never tried this with Evi.
Rae wouldn’t look at him. “I’m fine.”
He wouldn’t have guessed that, but what did he know? Maybe girls looked like this sometimes. About once a month or so. But she didn’t sound fine. She sounded like she wanted to be left alone.
He rocked on his feet and knocked a fist against the wooden door twice. “All right, well, I’ll be in the house if you need anything.”
Her head snapped up. He froze like a deer in the headlights. The light in the barn was dusky, yet he could still see that her eyes were suspiciously damp.
“That’s it?”
He stammered. “Wh-what are you talking about?”
She wiped a sleeve across her face. “When someone says they’re fine, but they’re obviously not fine, you say something like ‘No you’re not.’ Or ‘Do you want to talk about it?’”
He took a step back. It made no sense. If she wanted to talk about it, why would she say she was fine? And how would he know if she was or not? If she was and he said she wasn’t, wouldn’t that make her mad?
She sighed. “My grandpa always used to say, ‘If you’re fine, then I’m a monkey’s uncle.’”
He fought the urge to flee. This girl’s problems were none of his business, and he was not her grandpa. It’s not like he was going to talk to her about his problems. But she looked at him expectantly.
“Um . . .” His throat went dry, his mind blank. Then Evi’s face popped back into his head, and he forced the words out, “Do you want to talk about it?”
Rae sniffled. “No.” Her voice was high and strained.
Of all the most ridiculous, nonsensical, childish—
She burst into tears.
Oh, this was bad. He held a hand out as if to pat her back, but he was too far away. What should he do? Maybe he should run away. Her sobbing intensified, and his stomach lurched.
If there was a God, if He cared about Gerrit at all, as Luke had always claimed, He would do something. Right now.
Gravel crunched. He spun toward the sound.
Hannie.
He let out the breath he’d been holding.
Salvation.
“NOW HE WON’T even talk to me.” Rae cried into her hands as Hannie rubbed her back gently. “And if I don’t do well on my drive tonight, Mr. Fletcher says he’s not sure he can pass me.”
Gerrit stared in wonder at the miracle unfolding. Somehow, Hannie had led Rae into the house and coaxed the whole story out of her. About her parents, The Plan, and a guy named David. Also her last day of Driver’s Ed. and something about her teacher telling her she was dangerous. Which, frankly, did not surprise him.
He hadn’t spoken a word, but he felt like he’d been through the wringer. He couldn’t remember the last time his nerves had been this shot.
Rae pressed her fists into her eyes. “What am I going to do, Mrs. Laninga?”
From what he’d heard, the answer was clear. He held up a finger and opened his mouth to offer the obvious solution, but snapped it shut again when Hannie shook her head.
“Call me Hannie. And it depends.” Her voice was low and soothing. “Do you have feelings for this boy?”
Rae sniffed and nodded.
“Then you’re going to need to decide whether you think the relationship is worth saving.” Hannie gave a reassuring smile. “And if you do, there’s some work that needs to be done.”
Gerrit’s brow furrowed. That was not even close to what he had planned to say.
“What about my parents?”
Hannie sighed and leaned closer to Rae with a twinkle in her eye. “Parents do tend to complicate things, don’t they?”
Rae sniffed again, and a smile began to form. “Yes, they do.”
“I’ll tell you what.” Hannie rose from the table and clapped her hands together. “Why don’t we all”—and at the word all she eyed Gerrit as if trying to decide whether he was included—“think the problem over while
we have dinner and then come back to it. We’ll feel better after we’ve had something to eat.”
Rae pulled out her phone. “I’ll have to let my mom know. And I’ve got to be at the school by seven.”
Hannie patted her shoulder. “That gives us just enough time.”
Gerrit stood rooted in place, dumbfounded. Rae was staying for dinner? How had that happened? Why was she smiling all of a sudden? She was sobbing only a minute ago. He didn’t know how long he could stay on this roller coaster.
Hannie clapped her hands again. “Come on, Mr. Big Shot Cook. Get to work.”
“But it’s leftover night.”
“Then I’ll heat up leftovers”—she put her hands on his shoulders and steered him into the kitchen—“while you whip up some more of those caramel brownies you made the other day.”
He glanced at Rae, who was talking on the phone in a hushed voice. “Now is hardly the time to be worrying about brownies, is it?”
“Oh, my dear man.” Hannie patted his cheek with a grin. “Now is exactly the time.”
RAE PILED HER plate with food. Leftovers or not, she was starving.
Hannie slid the glazed carrots closer. “Here, have some more.”
Gerrit reached for the bowl. “Don’t mind if I do.”
Hannie slapped his hand away. “I was talking to Rae.”
Rae grinned and served herself another spoonful. “Thank you.”
“I’m hungry, too,” Gerrit muttered.
“But you’re not a growing teenager.” Hannie smirked. “So, Rae, tell me about this Community of Hope thing.”
“It’s Community Hope.” Rae sprinkled salt on her carrots. “We meet every Monday and Wednesday and help kids with their homework. Kids who are struggling in school.”
“How nice.” Hannie glanced at Gerrit. “I’ve been so curious about it.”
Her voice was thick with meaning, and Rae caught Gerrit looking down at his plate. Interesting.
“Daisy comes, too,” Rae added. “She’s like the mascot.”
