She laughed. “I think I can manage two cardboard boxes.”
He rushed over and grabbed the opposite end. “The duct tape might pull apart.” That’s only an excuse for getting near her. To cover up, he asked, “Did your multi-sensory room help?”
“It’s been wunderbar. Will and Lukas calm down quickly after they go inside.” She backed into the cloakroom. “Will sometimes goes inside and does his lessons in there. He seems to like being cocooned.”
Ada’s brilliant smile almost caused him to drop his end of the hideaway. He couldn’t wait to see her face when he revealed the surprise.
“I’m so glad it’s helpful.” He’d have to find a good place for the hideaway if the children used it. But not until after the photo shoot.
“Thank you for your help.” Ada scurried to the door. “We—I’d better go.” Lately she seemed to be avoiding him.
“Can I ask you something?” He waited until she’d stopped and turned toward him. “Are you running from me? Did I do anything to offend you?”
“No, no, of course not.” She flapped a hand, dismissing his concerns. “But we shouldn’t be here together.”
“I’m sorry. I forgot about Betty. I should have thought about your reputation.” He walked over and held open the door.
She hurried through. “I’m more concerned with yours,” she said as he exited after her. She bent to lock the door, then handed him the key.
Their fingers brushed as he took it, and he sucked in a breath. Was her rapid breathing because she’d been rushing? Or was she equally as affected by their touch?
His heart still pounding, Josiah waited outside the schoolhouse until Ada and the boys had driven away, then he unlocked the door and went inside. He moved all the extra student desks into the cloakroom, flipping some over to stack them on top of each other.
Half an hour later, Marcus and Clint pulled their trucks into the school yard, and all three of them unloaded the additional equipment. Josiah directed them where to place things, and they assembled everything.
“Looking good,” Marcus said as he lugged in the final bag of sand. “Hope your girl is impressed with the changes.”
“She’s not my girl.” Josiah tightened the last wing nut in place and stepped back to view their work.
Marcus laughed. “But you’d like her to be.”
Josiah wanted to deny his friend’s words, but honesty wouldn’t let him.
* * *
On Friday morning, Mary Elizabeth jumped up and down. “Ada’s coming to our school today,” she sang over and over at the top of her lungs.
Ada snatched the stack of plates from her hands. With her sister’s bouncing around, the dishes were in danger of smashing. She set the plates on the table and then placed her hands on Mary Elizabeth’s shoulders. “I know you’re excited, but you need to calm down before we have an accident.”
As soon as Ada let go, Mary Elizabeth twirled around in a circle, her arms wrapped around herself. “I can’t help it. I’m so excited I get to see you today.”
“You see her every day.” Sadie’s sarcastic tone and superior glare made Mary Elizabeth shrivel for a moment.
Then Mary Elizabeth thrust out her chin. “But I never see her when I’m at school.” She didn’t add so there, but her tone implied it. She went back to setting the table and singing her song, but this time in a quieter voice.
“You do realize,” Sadie said, “that Ada won’t have time for us. She has to take care of her scholars.”
“I know.” Mary Elizabeth sounded on the verge of tears. “But she’ll be there.”
“Ach, Sadie,” Ada said, “I’ll make time for all of you too. Several mothers will be coming to help, so I’ll have more time to spend with you.” Once again, Sadie had made the point about Ada’s scholars being more important than her siblings.
Sadie’s comment pricked Ada’s conscience. Ada and her siblings had reached Rebecca’s classroom at their usual time, but her students wouldn’t be coming until a little later to give Rebecca time to get everyone settled and ready for the guests. Ada stood at the door, tense and worried, hoping the visit would go smoothly. She also worried about Josiah, who planned to report for the photo shoot but avoid the cameras.
Betty pulled up first, and Martha tugged Lukas toward the door, a huge smile on her face. But Lukas refused to sit in the chair Rebecca pointed out. He flattened himself against the back wall of the classroom, and Martha stood close to him. Ada’s other scholars arrived in a flurry, and older siblings claimed Lizzie and Emily, taking them to their desks. Lizzie’s mamm sat in one of the visitor’s chairs in the back of the room. Will’s mamm came slightly late, but since Betty’s scolding she’d been closer to punctual. Will joined Lukas along the back wall, and his mamm took a chair nearby.
Josiah, appearing frazzled, stuck his head in the door and beckoned to Ada. Screams came from the parking lot. Ada jumped up and went outside. Josiah’s buggy was rocking back and forth.
“Nathan was fine until we turned away from the schoolhouse.” Josiah rubbed his forehead. “I tried the signs I knew, but I wasn’t sure how to let him know he’d still be seeing you and David. I’m sure he thought I was lying and I was heading somewhere to get rid of him.”
Poor Nathan. And poor Josiah.
“I was hoping seeing you would calm him.” Josiah slid open the buggy door, folded down the seat, and stepped back.
Though every nerve in her body was dancing at Josiah’s closeness, Ada brushed past him and reached into the buggy to stroke Nathan’s forehead. He shrieked louder and bucked away from her touch. She tried again, and this time his eyes flew open. He swallowed his scream, and his mouth opened in an O. Then he flung himself into her arms, almost knocking her over.
If Josiah hadn’t caught her, Ada would have fallen. But now she was in even more danger of collapsing. He’d wrapped his arms around her to support her, and her body pressed against his hard chest; the warmth of his body heat penetrated the back of her dress. Ada’s legs trembled, and with a sigh, she melted in his arms.
The thought of Rebecca and the scholars staring out the window snapped her back to reality. On shaky legs, she took two steps forward.
“Are you all right?” Josiah sounded winded, but he didn’t let go of her arms. “He’s too heavy for you to carry.”
Keeping her back turned to hide her burning cheeks, Ada forced herself to answer calmly, but she couldn’t hide the breathiness of her voice. “I’m used to carrying children.” With Nathan in her arms, she stepped away from his supporting hands, but the warmth of his touch still lingered. “I need to get inside.” She set Nathan on his feet, took his hand, and turned to head back into the schoolroom, hoping Josiah hadn’t noticed the rapid pattering of her heart.
“I know.” He sucked in a deep breath. “And I need to get to your schoolhouse. I hope I can avoid the media frenzy.”
“I’ll pray for you.”
A strange expression flashed across Josiah’s face but disappeared before Ada could identify it. Desperation? Regret?
“Thank you,” he said finally. “I’ll need all the help I can get.”
Ada started toward the building but stopped. “Oh, I forgot. If it’s all right with you, David would like Nathan to come to our house after school again today.” And she’d enjoy teaching Josiah more sign language, even if their time together had to be brief.
“Nathan will enjoy that,” Josiah said. “But could you come to the schoolhouse this afternoon? Would Sadie be able to watch everyone for a short while? I wanted to get your opinion on something, and I can give you back the key.”
With Betty’s lecture ringing in her ears, Ada hesitated. But it wouldn’t take long to give an opinion and hand over a key, and they’d be outside. “I guess so,” she said finally. If she told Sadie she had to meet Josiah, her sister would be happy to watch everyone for a short while.
Josiah looked a little hurt by her lackluster response. “Thanks.”
Ada wis
hed she could correct what she’d done, but she had no idea how to do that without giving away her real feelings. “I’ll see you this afternoon. I hope everything works out all right with the advertisers.” She hurried off.
When they reached the schoolhouse door, Nathan glanced over his shoulder to watch his daed’s buggy leave and released a slow breath as it turned onto the main road. Ada ached for both of them. She needed to stop letting Betty’s paranoia prevent her from helping Josiah and Nathan communicate.
Once Ada entered the schoolroom, Rebecca said, “Now that everyone’s here, we’ll get started.”
Although Rebecca hadn’t meant it as a rebuke, Ada was self-conscious about how long she’d been outside with Josiah. From the back of the room, she couldn’t see out the windows, but Rebecca and her scholars could. Had they seen the embrace? It had only been assistance to prevent her from falling, but it may have looked different to everyone else.
Nathan wriggled off the chair beside her when David beckoned to him. Sadie slid her chair over to make room for Nathan to sit beside David. Rebecca waited until Nathan had settled into place, then she motioned for her scholars to come to the front of the room.
“We planned a special greeting for you today,” Rebecca announced.
Ada’s heart swelled as her siblings’ voices rang out loud and clear in a welcome song while Sadie signed the words. What a thoughtful gesture! Or it would have been if Lukas hadn’t cringed and backed against the wall and Will hadn’t covered his ears.
The rest of the day went surprisingly well, with only a few meltdowns. Her students participated in several of the class activities, and Rebecca assigned one scholar to play with each of Ada’s students during recess. Despite it being a busy day, most of Ada’s thoughts centered around Josiah. She prayed about the playground, but most often, she drifted into daydreams about Josiah’s embrace.
* * *
Josiah arrived before the photographers and unlocked the schoolhouse. He strolled through the buildings and the grounds outside to be sure everything was in place.
Lyle Anderson got out of his truck. “Well, at least you showed up.” He glanced around. “Where are the kids?”
Josiah had been dreading this. Evidently, the advertising department hadn’t told Lyle about the change in plans. Josiah could stall until the models arrived, but his conscience urged him to tell the whole truth. Taking a deep breath, he said, “The children won’t be here today. They’re visiting another school, but—”
Face red and eyes bulging, Anderson leaned into Josiah’s face. “I told you not to mess this up,” he screamed.
“I let the advertising department know.” Josiah kept his voice quiet and calm.
Anderson adopted a fighting stance, legs spread and fists clenched. “You contacted them without telling me?”
“I’m sorry,” Josiah said. “I shouldn’t have.”
Lyle swore. “You certainly shouldn’t have. We can’t have the shoot without kids.” His voice rose to an even higher pitch.
“The man I spoke to said they’d bring in models.”
“Do you know what models cost? We’re already way over budget.” Anderson stomped off muttering.
Josiah headed after him. “Mr. Anderson?” The boss kept his back turned and ignored the call, but Josiah caught up with him. “I realize my misunderstanding cost the company money. Please take any extra expenses from my pay.”
Anderson snorted. “You think your paltry salary could come close to what they’ll be paying the models? They’d be docking your pay until Christmas of next year.” He turned and faced Josiah. “You rich enough to afford that?”
“No, but it’s not fair for the company to lose money over my mistake. Whatever it costs, I’ll pay.” Even if it meant getting a second job.
“Forget it,” Anderson growled. “You know what a headache that would be for accounting? More trouble than it’s worth.”
While Anderson directed traffic to a grassy area opposite the playground, Josiah hung the special cocoon swing he’d bought beside the swings the company had provided. It had been expensive, but he wanted to contribute something special. This was his way of showing his appreciation for all Ada had done for Nathan.
“Hey,” the boss bellowed, “don’t get dirty footprints on the rubber.”
Josiah tested the swing to be sure it was secure. Then he bent and wiped away the faint impressions his shoes had made on the blue rubberized ground cover under the equipment.
Soon after Marcus and Clint pulled in, the child models, dressed in Amish clothing, piled out of a van, and the driver sent four of them into the schoolhouse. One small girl waited while the driver unloaded a wheelchair. Then she hopped in, and he pushed her toward the building.
Josiah held open the door and asked as they passed, “She doesn’t really need that wheelchair, does she?” After he said it, he worried his question might be rude, but he was curious.
“Of course not,” the man replied. “She’ll just use it for the pictures.”
“Isn’t that dishonest?”
“Huh?” The man looked at Josiah as if he were crazy.
But Josiah still puzzled over it after the photographers arrived and the girl posed on the special wheelchair slide and ramps. Why would they let the photographers believe a lie? Didn’t it bother their consciences?
As Anderson led the photographers and reporters around, he pointed out all the special features of the playground, quoting some of the articles Josiah had read about the benefits. He also took credit for the cocoon swing outside and the equipment Josiah had built and paid for inside, while sending Josiah a don’t-you-dare-contradict-me glance.
Marcus started to interrupt until Josiah stopped him. “But it’s not fair,” Marcus muttered. “It’s your work and your money.”
“I didn’t do it for credit.” Josiah wanted no part of showing off, bragging about accomplishments, being in the limelight. Besides being hochmut, it diminished the real purpose of the work—being of service to others. Although, if he were honest, he’d also had another motive. Pleasing Ada.
Josiah again had to deflect attention from himself during the photo shoot of the crew. He requested the photographers not snap pictures of him, and he stayed out of the group shots of the crew. And when the company photographer insisted on a picture of the “idea man” behind the playground, Josiah motioned to Lyle Anderson.
“He’s the real head of the project,” Josiah insisted.
Anderson’s mouth dropped open. He stepped closer to Josiah and said in a low voice, “Everyone wants credit. Go get in the picture.”
Josiah shook his head. “I don’t.”
After the photographers and reporters left, Anderson called the crew together. “Great job, guys. Thank you for all your hard work. This publicity will help the company and attract new business. So you helped save your jobs.” He dismissed the men, but told Josiah to wait.
Marcus clapped Josiah on the shoulder. “Good luck, man,” he whispered. “I doubt he’ll fire you after this success.”
Josiah wasn’t so sure. Dread pooled in his stomach as he headed toward Anderson. Marcus had no idea how much Josiah’s mistake had cost the company.
A slight flush stained Anderson’s cheeks. “Look, I know I’ve come down hard on you for your religion. Although I don’t agree with any of it”—he avoided Josiah’s eyes—“I do admire people who stick up for their beliefs. You showed yourself to be the better man today.”
Josiah stood there, shaking his head, as Anderson walked off. His boss saw everything—even morality—as a competition. Josiah had no desire to be a better man than anyone else. He’d been raised to be the best person he could be in God’s sight.
* * *
When Ada turned into the schoolhouse drive that evening, the only vehicle parked on the playground belonged to Josiah. The photographers must have gone, which was a relief. She hoped Josiah had avoided them. He climbed out of his buggy as she drove into the lot.
He hurried over. “Before I return the key, I wanted to show you something.” Ushering her toward the schoolhouse door, he said, “I’ll go in first, but please don’t look yet.”
Ada glanced behind her, almost expecting to see Betty behind her, frowning. By the time she turned around, Josiah had slipped through the door and closed it so she couldn’t see inside. When he opened it, she’d insist on standing out here to view whatever he had in mind.
The door creaked open, and Josiah stared at her. Ada forced herself to break eye contact. Then she stood there transfixed.
The desks were missing. In their place were therapy swings. Therapy swings. Ada forgot her vow about not entering the building and rushed toward them. She slid her hand down the slick coolness of one of the metal supports, then pushed the mesh seat until it swung back and forth, as she imagined Will and Lukas cradled in these cocoons. Her heart filled to bursting, she barely heard Josiah’s soft words.
“There’s more behind you,” he said.
Ada let go of the swing and spun around. “Is that—?” She pressed a hand against her mouth. A sand table. She took a few steps toward it and stopped. Turning toward Josiah, she said, “You didn’t tell me about the interior plans.”
“I wanted it to be a surprise. I hope it’s all right.”
All right? It was more than all right, it was so amazing she couldn’t put it into words. She nodded.
Josiah studied her, lines of anxiety around his eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Very sure,” she managed. She wanted to fling her arms around him and hug him. She clenched fistfuls of her apron to keep herself in check. “It’s wunderbar.” Her eyes stung, and she spun away from him and headed for the sand table.
She needed to do something with her hands to prevent them from touching Josiah. Picking up a handful of sand, she let the grains run through her fingers. “Oh, oh, oh.”
“Is something wrong?”
“No.” She gestured toward the sand toys at the other end of the table. “I just saw those. They’re perfect.” Measuring cups, spoons, pitchers, funnels, shapes, animal molds. “How did you know?”
The Amish Teacher's Gift Page 21
