Showers in Season

by Beverly LaHaye

  She shrugged. “Well, yeah, basically.”

  He looked wounded. “I just thought it might be a good chance for all of us to get to know each other. My parents will be there, and my mom’s doing most of the cooking, and she likes a big group to cook for. She’s wanted to meet you, anyway.”

  Cathy tried to imagine the possibilities, and wasn’t sure if it was a good idea. “Oh, I don’t know, Steve. I would really like to make a good impression the first time I meet your parents.”

  “Well, why wouldn’t you?”

  “Because of the kids,” she said. “I’m not sure how that would be. Remember the first time—and the last time—you took us all to lunch? It was disastrous. Annie kept wanting to leave to meet her boyfriend, and when I said she couldn’t, she got up and left anyway. The boys were bickering and arguing with me…”

  “But we know each other a little better now,” he said.

  “And you like me anyway?” she asked.

  He shoved her playfully. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Wouldn’t you welcome the opportunity not to have to cook Thanksgiving dinner?”

  “Oh, but I would cook something. I couldn’t let your mother do it all herself.”

  “I’ll be doing some, too,” he said. “But that’s the deal. My mother’s very offended when other people bring things.”

  She shot him another suspicious look. “You told her about my cooking, didn’t you?”

  He threw his head back and laughed. She thought it was the best sound she’d heard in a long time. “No, I didn’t tell her anything. She really just wants to do it.”

  “Well, as long as you know what you’re getting into.”

  He tightened his hold on her hand, and met her eyes in a lingering gaze. “I do,” he said.

  She could only hold that gaze for a moment, before those fears of his fleeing assaulted her again. She looked away.

  Several pleasant moments of quiet passed, and finally, he put his arm around her and pulled her closer. As she leaned into him, he rested his chin on the top of her head. It felt so natural that it brought tears to her eyes. She tried to blink them back. How would she explain tears?

  “So what are you going to do about Mark and school?”

  She thought that over for a moment. “Being the third child doesn’t really play in his favor. I’ve already discovered what doesn’t work on my other two. Threatening to ground him for life doesn’t quite do it, and I can’t take away the phone or the computer, because he doesn’t care much about either one right now. So I’ve decided on something that he thinks is pretty drastic, but it just might work.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve decided to homeschool him.”

  He let go of her. “Are you kidding me? How are you going to do that and work, too?”

  “I’m not doing the homeschooling, Brenda is. I’m paying her to teach Mark at home. That way, he’ll be supervised all day and he’ll learn a lot. I respect Brenda tremendously, and I know she can do it.”

  Steve gaped at her with amazed amusement in his eyes. “You know, that’s a great idea.”

  “It sure is. Sylvia gave it to me.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what we’d do without her. Even from so far away, she’s still dispensing her wisdom and getting us through these spots.”

  “So when does he start?”

  “Monday.”

  “Monday? As in day-after-tomorrow?”

  She nodded. “I gave him this past week to say good-bye to his friends. But frankly, I didn’t want him around those dope-smoking kids any more than he had to be. Brenda’s kids are celebrating. Even Daniel, who seemed to really love school. Their last day was Friday, too.”

  His smile faded. “You’ve made all these decisions, and you never mentioned a thing? Cathy, you’re shutting me out again.”

  “I just don’t want to burden you with my dirty laundry. I didn’t even tell Brenda and Tory, until Sylvia blurted it all over cyberspace. But I’m glad she did, because it gave me a solution.”

  “You know, we’re not supposed to be loners, we Christians. We’re supposed to support each other, share things. How can we help if we don’t know what’s going on? People can’t even pray for you if you haven’t told them you need it.”

  “I gave that unspoken prayer request in Sunday school last week.”

  He groaned. “Give me a break. In biblical times, do you think people had unspoken prayer requests? No. They all lived together, grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins, and they knew everything that was going on with everybody. It gave them accountability, but it also gave them relief. How heavy could a burden be when there were others to help you carry it? Today, we lock ourselves away and put on that happy face, and hide our secrets even from our Christian friends. And then we wonder why our burdens are so heavy.”

  The words didn’t sound like a rebuke, but an encouragement. “I know. I should have shared. It’s pride that kept me from it.”

  “That’s understandable,” he said. “But I want to help you. I really can’t stand the thought of you struggling with this alone all week.” He tightened his hold on her, and laid his jaw against her hair again. She marveled at the comfort he gave her, the feeling of being protected, the thought that God had given him all of the things she needed, things that he was so free to share. She wondered if she had anything to give him.

  “But for what it’s worth, I’m proud of you,” he said. “I think you’re doing the right thing. It’s a drastic step, but this calls for drastic measures, and you haven’t wimped out. You’re willing to take a stand to help your child. I think that’s great.”

  It had been a long time since she’d felt affirmed as a parent. In fact, there hadn’t been many times in her life that she had. The tears returned to her eyes.

  He reached down and hooked a finger under her chin, pulled her face up to his. She couldn’t hide the tears as he smiled down at her. “You’re really pretty, you know that?”

  She breathed a laugh and looked away. “You’re crazy.”

  “Nope. I know what I see.” He pulled her face back to his and wiped away the first tear as it fell. “Don’t cry,” he whispered.

  But he didn’t ask why she cried. Cathy knew he understood that the affirmation of her motherhood had seeped like long-needed sustenance into her soul. God had sent him to quench her thirst, and the realization of that sent another tear rolling down her face.

  He wiped it away, too, then pulled her closer. His kiss was sweet, undemanding, unhurried. His rough, work-worn hand stroked gently across her cheekbone, and lingered there when the kiss broke. Looking up at him, Cathy felt as vulnerable as she’d ever felt in her life. She knew he could see right into her.

  “Well, I’d better get you home,” he whispered.

  She smiled. “Yeah, it’s almost noon. The kids are probably almost awake by now, and if I don’t hurry home, they’ll all scurry out before I can get them to do anything.”

  “The birthday party is probably almost over,” he said, looking down at his watch. “I’ll need to be picking Tracy up pretty soon.”

  But he didn’t hurry to get off the tailgate. “I enjoyed sitting up here with you.”

  She smiled. “Without an agenda. So you think you and I really do have something in common, even when we’re not working for a cause?”

  “Is that what you thought?”

  She shrugged. “Tory mentioned it.”

  “You tell Tory that what we have in common is a real intense affection for each other.”

  Intense affection. It said so much, yet she longed to hear—to say—a little bit more. Still, she basked in that “intense affection” as he took her back to Cedar Circle.

  CHAPTER Thirty-Four

  Tory didn’t know why she had chosen to do her grocery shopping on Saturday, when it was so crowded. She wished she had waited until Barry got home so she could have left the kids at home. The grocery store was like Toys-R-Us to them, for they could find the desires of their hearts�
�or stomachs—on every aisle, in every section, on every shelf.

  At the moment, Spencer was begging for a pack of bean sprouts, which he’d never tasted in his life. He didn’t know what they were for, but he liked them because they looked like worms. He was willing to fight for them.

  “Spencer, I want you to quit asking me for things. I told you, we just came here to get things we need. We don’t need bean sprouts.”

  “But look at them, Mommy. Please, can’t I have them? I promise I won’t scare Britty with them.”

  “Shut up, Spencer,” Brittany said from the bottom of the basket. “You’re gonna get her all mad before we even get to the candy aisle.”

  “She’s got a point,” Tory said.

  Sighing miserably, Spencer put the bean sprouts back. That was when Tory spotted the boy with Down’s Syndrome, bending over the produce and picking up the carrots, feeling the stalks, then moving to the cucumbers and the kiwi. He picked up each one there, ran his fingers over it, then grabbed a ball of lettuce and spread both hands around it.

  His mother must have seen her staring. “Phillip? Come on, honey, let’s go.”

  He didn’t turn around and come right away. Instead, he pushed his high-magnification glasses up on his nose and moved faster down the produce aisle, feeling things more quickly.

  “How old is your son?” Tory asked the woman.

  She looked surprised at Tory’s interest. “He’s fifteen.”

  Tory’s eyes followed him. “What’s he doing? Stroking the vegetables?”

  The mother grinned. “I can never come through the grocery store without him feeling every single one. We have a garden in the backyard, and he likes to help tend it. There’s something about the texture and shape of all the different things that interests him.”

  A sweet smile fell across Tory’s lips, but at the same time, her eyes misted over.

  “Excuse me,” the boy’s mother said. “Is something wrong?”

  Tory shook her head. “Uh, no.” She looked from Spencer to Brittany to see if they were listening. They were both preoccupied with scanning the shelves for anything they might have missed. She turned back to the woman. “It’s just that, I’m carrying…” She didn’t want to say the word “baby” yet because she hadn’t told the children, but she patted the little paunch below her waist. “Down’s Syndrome,” she said.

  The woman’s eyes filled with compassion. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  Tory looked at the boy again, unable to say more.

  The woman followed Tory’s gaze. “My little vegetable-feeler over there is about the best thing that ever happened to our family,” she said. She reached into her purse and pulled out a piece of paper, jotted a phone number down. “Look, my name’s Marlene. If you ever need to talk to anyone about this, or if you have questions…please give me a call.”

  Tory took the phone number gratefully. “Thank you. I appreciate that.” She watched the boy as he felt the zucchini and the squash. “Does he go to school or anything?”

  “Oh, sure he does,” she said. “He goes part of the day to the public school and the rest of the day he goes to a school for kids with Down’s Syndrome. He absolutely loves it. You know, you really ought to stop by there sometime. It might put some of your fears to rest.”

  “I’d like that,” she said. “Where is it?”

  “Down on Brandon Street, behind the old post office. Listen, why don’t you call me this afternoon? There’s a lot I can tell you to make you feel better.”

  “Thank you,” Tory said. “I will, as soon as I get my kids down for a nap.”

  The woman patiently waited until the boy had gotten to the end of the produce aisle, then she took his hand and pulled him along beside her. He went willingly, babbling in words Tory couldn’t understand about the produce that he had just examined. She couldn’t wait to finish shopping so she could get home and talk to that mother.

  That afternoon, when she’d gotten the kids down for their nap, Marlene gave her the name of the school Phillip attended, as well as the number to several other resources that Tory could call on for help and answers. With great trepidation, she waited for Monday morning, so that she could visit the school and see if there was any hope for her child.

  CHAPTER Thirty-Five

  Monday morning, all four of Brenda’s children popped up earlier than usual, excited about resuming their homeschooling routine. She made French toast and scrambled eggs, and they all laughed and chattered as the family ate breakfast together.

  But when eight o’clock came, Mark wasn’t there. Cathy had warned Brenda that she had to get to the clinic at 7:30, so she wouldn’t be able to stay with Mark until he crossed the street. Brenda feared that Mark had gone back to bed after his mother left for work.

  She sent Daniel over at 8:20, and he banged on the door until Mark finally answered it. He confirmed her suspicions when he showed up in his wrinkled T-shirt and gym shorts. She suspected that was what he’d slept in. He hadn’t brushed his hair or his teeth, and his eyes were barely open. He carried his sneakers in his hand.

  Because she liked for her homeschool situation to be as structured as possible, she had divided up areas in the room they used for class. She showed Mark where he would be seated with Daniel, since they shared the same curriculum.

  Mark compliantly took his seat, then laid his head down on his desk. She got Joseph, Leah, and Rachel started on their assignments, then came back to Mark and Daniel.

  Mark’s head was still down.

  “He’s sound asleep, Mama,” Daniel whispered.

  Brenda stayed calm. She had known Mark would test her today. This was no surprise. “Mark!” She shook him, and he sat up and squinted sleepily at her. “Mark, this is school! I expect you to sit up with your feet on the floor and listen to what I say.”

  “You were talking to them,” he said.

  “Some of what I say applies to all of you.” She pulled her chair up to their table and took in a deep breath. “Now, we just got off to a bad start, but I know that things are going to turn around.” She smiled and patted his hand. “I’m so excited about teaching you, Mark. Daniel needed somebody to challenge him and you’re so bright, I knew you’d be the perfect person.”

  Mark rolled his eyes and propped his chin on his hand. “Give me a break. The only reason I’m here is because I was flunking out of school and my mom overreacted.”

  She wasn’t used to being spoken to that way by a child, but she quickly rallied. “Mark, the way we do things here is that we do a lot of reading on our own. I’m familiar with all the material because I’m a little bit ahead of you. But then we discuss it and we do activities around it. And sometimes we take field trips that have something to do with what we’re all studying. We try to be flexible. We try to be spontaneous if we can, but there are a few things I expect from you in return.”

  “Here it comes,” he said, looking at Daniel. Daniel began to snicker. Brenda shot her son a warning look.

  “Mark, I expect you to show respect for me and for Mr. David when you see him. We’re going to be spending a lot of time together and that’s not very much to ask. I also expect you to listen and do your assignments. My goal is to make learning fun for you and to make you learn even more than you would have if you were at school, so that at the end of the year when you take the test—”

  “Test?” Mark cut in, horrified. “We have tests?”

  “Of course we have tests,” she said. “I give tests all the time, don’t I, Daniel?”

  “All the time,” Daniel said with a groan, mirroring Mark’s bored posture.

  “That’s how I can tell your progress. I give grades just like every other teacher does, and I expect you to try as hard as you can.”

  Mark looked down at the circle between his arms. “I don’t want to be here.”

  She smiled, because she had no intentions of getting angry. Leaning forward, she got close to Mark’s face. “Mark, why do you think my kids are so excited about
doing this?”

  “Because they’re lazy and they don’t want to get up and go to school every day.”

  She only stared at him for a moment, as several different emotions clashed like competitors through her mind. “No,” she said, keeping her voice level. “It’s actually because we have a lot of fun doing this. They like learning. Even Joseph is going to be studying, and he has a good excuse not to. He’s studied all through his recovery, because he loves it. It can be the same for you, too, Mark.”

  “But I didn’t do anything wrong. I just had one bad report card. If I could go back to school, I know I could pull my grades up.”

  Leah, Rachel, and Joseph stopped working and waited for her reaction. This was a test, she thought. And she could pass it. “You don’t have that option, Mark. You’re here. Now why don’t you try to learn something?”

  Mark brooded, and finally, she got up and reached for the books she kept on the shelf. “Now, we’re starting with Bible study. That’s always our first subject of the day.” She knew he hadn’t brought a Bible, or anything else, so she got one of hers off of the shelf. She handed it to Mark. “We’ve been continuing to study the Bible even while they were in public school, and we’re up to the captivity in Babylon…”

  Mark came to attention. “You gotta be kidding,” he said. “Does that mean I have to read all of this?”

  “Not all at once,” she said. “But you’ll love this, Mark. You’ll just soak this up, like my kids do. You have the potential to learn a lot more than you’ve learned, Mark. And you’ll like it when you start doing word studies and cross-referencing. Daniel’s already been through the Bible once.”

  “Can’t I just watch the movie? Don’t they have The Ten Commandments on video?”

  Daniel snickered again, and she began to sense the possibility that Mark could have more influence on Daniel than Daniel had on him. The other children could adopt his bad habits as well. She made a decision to nip that in the bud.

  “You know what? I thought it would be nice if you and Daniel shared a table, since you’ll be doing similar material, but now I see that it’s probably better if you work alone. So Mark, let’s get your books and move you over to this table.” She began to move his things over to the table where she usually sat to check the children’s work.