Showers in Season Page 15

  Brenda nodded this time, as if she could relate to that. “I wasn’t thrilled about my kids’ report cards, either. Their grades weren’t bad—they just weren’t great. I think it’s because they’re bored.”

  “Yeah, that’s it,” Cathy spouted in a sarcastic voice. “Mark’s bored. Fat chance. He just isn’t studying, isn’t doing homework…”

  “But maybe that really is because he’s bored. Maybe if they made it more fun…”

  “That’s a little easier for a homeschooling mom than an overworked, underpaid teacher with thirty kids in each of seven class periods. Besides, life isn’t always going to be fun. They have to learn to sweat their way through hard things.” She lowered herself to Brenda’s porch steps. “Sylvia’s idea was a good one, Brenda. I can’t homeschool Mark myself. It would be disastrous for me. My kids won’t even listen to me about putting their napkins in their laps. I could just see me trying to teach calculus. They’d grow up to be a bunch of ignorant, illiterate adults who hated me because I didn’t make them go to school.”

  Brenda laughed at her image. “Like you could undo everything they’ve already learned?”

  “Well, yeah. I know it sounds stupid, but they’d unlearn it just for spite. I know they would.”

  Brenda laughed and sat down beside her. “Well, I’d like nothing better than to go back to homeschooling,” she said.

  “You see?” Cathy asked. “That’s why Sylvia’s idea is genius. You start homeschooling again, and I pay you everything I would have paid a private school…or I’d match what you’re making in your job. Whichever is more. You’d get to do what you really want to do. I know taking on Mark would make things a little different, but you could do wonders with him, Brenda, and I think he would behave for you. He wouldn’t want to be the only kid acting up.”

  She could see that Brenda was warming to the thought. “Are you sure you’d want to pay me that much?”

  “Yes,” she said. “It would solve so many problems for me, and it just might save my son’s life. Brenda, please say yes.”

  “What about Mark?” Brenda asked. “How will he feel about all this?”

  “I’m not sure,” Cathy said. “But he doesn’t have a choice. Something has to be done right away. And as far as I’m concerned, it’s either you or private school. And he can refuse to do homework in private school just as easily as he can in public school. Besides, I hate to make him the new kid halfway through the year. If he was with you, he wouldn’t be.”

  The smile inching across Brenda’s face spoke volumes. “I’d be willing to try it, Cathy.”

  Cathy restrained herself from shouting and turning a cartwheel. She didn’t want to frighten Brenda off. “Brenda, if you can’t handle him, then you can quit. No hard feelings.”

  “Oh, I can handle Mark. He’s a good kid,” Brenda said. “Maybe he’s got some bad influences, but once we remove those, he’ll be fine. He’s smart as a whip.”

  Cathy got tears in her eyes and threw her arms around Brenda. “That’s what I love about you, Brenda. Your optimism. And I would just love to have someone like you influencing my son.”

  “All right, you’ve buttered me up,” Brenda said, jumping up and doing a little jig. “I’ll quit my job tonight! We can tell the kids today when they get home.”

  “Yahoo!” They both turned and saw that Joseph had been listening from the side of the house, and he was jumping up and down in celebration. “Now things can get back to normal again!”

  “Honey,” Cathy said with a laugh, “with one of my kids around, normal is the last thing it will be.”

  CHAPTER Thirty

  “Mom, don’t you think you’re overreacting?” Mark yelled when Cathy broke the news to him. “I get in trouble one time and get one bad report card, and the next thing I know you’re jerking me out of school? You worked me like a dog at the clinic. Haven’t I been punished enough?”

  “This isn’t punishment, Mark. This is help. I’m trying to put you into a situation where you’ll learn, and where you aren’t influenced by kids who are headed the wrong direction.”

  “Maybe I am one of them, Mom, d’you ever think of that? Maybe they’re the ones following me.”

  “Oh, well, that helps,” she quipped. “Then of course you can stay in school. I didn’t realize they were teaching you such leadership skills.”

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  She touched her forehead and told herself to calm down. “Mark, I choose to believe that you are a good kid, and that you would never have done any of the things you’ve done lately, including letting your grades fall, if it weren’t for some outside influences. Can you look me in the eye and tell me I’m wrong about that?”

  “My only other choice is to convince you I’m evil, which I’m not, Mom. Only my tongue is, according to James 3:6.”

  Cathy couldn’t help grinning. Maybe Brenda could do a better job with the Scripture lessons, too. She sat down with him, facing him across the table. “Mark, I know this all feels terrible to you, but believe it or not, I’m doing it to help you, not hurt you. I wouldn’t make this big a change in your life just to punish you. I really think it will be good for you.”

  He looked pained, and stared down at the table. “Can I still see my friends?”

  “Not the ones who were smoking dope in the bathroom with you. No way.”

  “Well, can I at least keep playing basketball and baseball?”

  “Yes,” she said. “We’ll get you on the church team since you can’t play at school anymore.”

  He propped his chin on his hand and stared at her miserably. She could see that he wanted to cry, but he wouldn’t let himself.

  “I want to go live with Dad,” he said.

  She had anticipated that. Whenever things got hot around here, the kids threw that up at her. “Well, I’m sorry, kiddo, but that’s not an option.”

  “Why not? He wouldn’t freak out every time my grades slipped.”

  “I think you’re wrong about that,” she said, though she knew he was absolutely right. “Neither one of your parents is willing to give up on you, Mark. I have high hopes for you. Big plans. You have so much potential. I’m not going to let you destroy it.”

  “Well, can I sleep late?”

  “Of course not. You know the Dodds always get up early to start school.”

  “But they have all those chores they have to do before they get started. I could just go after the chores are done, and then I could sleep an hour later.”

  “Come to think of it, I think we’ll have some chores for you to do around here. That way you won’t feel left out.”

  “Mom, why can’t I just sleep late?”

  “Because you’re going to become a disciplined young man, if it kills you!” Cathy said.

  “Great. I’ll be the only disciplined one in the whole house. How come Annie and Rick don’t have to do this?”

  “They aren’t flunking out, and they don’t take drugs.”

  “Not that you know of.”

  Beautiful, she thought. She loved it when her kids planted explosive seeds like that. “Mark, so help me, if you have something to say about Rick or Annie, say it.”

  “I’m just saying I’m not the only one in this house who messes up sometimes.”

  “No kidding. My angels?” Disgusted at her own sarcasm, she got up and went into the kitchen.

  “So when do I have to quit school?”

  “I think I’ll let you go a few more days, just to say good-bye to everybody and give you time to get used to the idea. That’s what Brenda’s doing with her kids. Then you can all start in a week or so.”

  When Mark looked as if she’d just ended his childhood, she came back to the table. Her heart was overcome with love for the boy who realized just how much his irresponsibility had cost him. She hoped it would be enough to change his behavior. “Mark, I do love you. I want what’s best for you. You know I do.”

  “It’s not best,” he said. “I’m not
gonna do better. I’m gonna hate it and do terrible.”

  “Don’t make up your mind to do that, Mark. Make up your mind to excel.”

  “I might as well just get a job, if I could find anybody who’d hire a twelve-year-old,” he muttered, getting up and heading for the stairs. “My education is over. So is my social life.”

  “It won’t be that bad, Mark.”

  But as he shuffled up the stairs, she knew he wasn’t buying it. It would be every bit as bad as he thought, until Brenda could prove differently.

  She just hoped Brenda had more success than the school system had.

  CHAPTER Thirty-One

  Barry had finished his work for the day, but he dreaded going home and facing Tory’s coldness. So he sat in his office, staring out the window as the sun went down and cast dark shadows on his walls.

  His door opened, and Linda Holland, the woman from marketing, stuck her head in. “Barry! I thought you’d gone home.”

  He shrugged. “No, too much work to do.” He shuffled some papers around on his desk, as if he’d been in the middle of something.

  “Barry, you were staring out the window.” She came in and dropped the files in her arms on his desk. “Are you all right? I know it’s none of my business, but this is the second time I’ve caught you like this. What’s wrong?”

  He leaned his head back in his chair. Again, her clothes looked rumpled, as if she’d overslept and had to grab something off the floor. He had seen her cubicle and knew she was sloppy and unorganized. But she did good work. “Nothing’s wrong,” he said. “Everything’s fine.”

  She plopped down on a chair, making it clear that she wasn’t going to take that for an answer. It wasn’t until she crossed her legs that he realized she wasn’t wearing shoes again. She had a slight run in the toe of her stockings. “Barry, come on. You can tell me.”

  He rubbed his lip with a finger. It irritated him that she thought they were good enough friends to be confidants. Sure, he bantered with her sometimes in the break room, laughed and teased her. But he didn’t go around spilling his guts to office acquaintances. “Actually, I don’t want to talk about it.”

  She seemed a little taken aback. “Well, if that’s not a conversation ender, I don’t know what is.” She got back to her stocking feet, and he could see that she was trying not to appear hurt. “Your loss, because I’m a great listener.”

  There was something little-girlish and vulnerable about her. She was entirely unself-conscious. He couldn’t imagine her taking the pains with her looks that Tory took, when she couldn’t even manage to keep shoes on her feet. And he was sure that any life-altering decision she made would be based on her heart alone, and not on what people thought.

  As she closed the door behind her, Barry leaned back in his chair again. Maybe he was being too hard on Tory. Maybe her desire to keep the baby really didn’t have anything to do with what people thought. Maybe it was truly a matter of conscience.

  But he had a conscience, too, and she wasn’t willing to listen to his. Yes, he had been pro-life, had written letters and even held an occasional picket sign. He had grieved for all the babies that were needlessly sacrificed in abortion clinics each year. But this was different. Why couldn’t she see that?

  He dropped his face into his hands at his desk, and wiped away the tears that had been sneaking up on him so often lately. He felt more alone than he’d ever felt in his life. Even more alone than he’d felt as an eleven-year-old boy, when Nathan had gotten pneumonia and had to be hospitalized for a week. His parents had spent every waking moment at the hospital, fighting for the life of the child that may not have even wanted to live. And he had stayed at home alone, eating TV dinners and watching television, until his father rolled in around ten and told him to go to bed. He had lain awake those nights, staring at the ceiling and knowing he should pray for Nathan. But somehow he couldn’t.

  Like now, there had been no one in the world to talk to, no one to whom he could confess the traitorous thoughts in his heart. Not even God.

  Now, like then, he found himself unable to pray. He knew he should be praying for the child Tory was carrying, but instead, he wanted to pray that God would take it from her, make the decision for them, end this suffering.

  But he knew in his heart the damage had been done. Even if Tory did have a natural miscarriage, the two of them might never be able to get over this difference of opinion.

  He got up and went to the window. He didn’t have a pretty view. No one in the building did, for there was too much machinery around the building, too many practical structures surrounding him. At night, the ugliness was not as apparent, so he gazed out through the glass, seeing his own reflection. The man standing there with the loosened tie and white dress shirt looked unfamiliar to him.

  He pressed his forehead against the glass and began to wish that he had confided in Linda. She was safe. Someone he could talk to without fear of condemnation. Linda didn’t seem to have any stringent standards that she expected those around her to uphold. She was human, and she accepted that others were as well.

  He was suddenly very sorry that he might have hurt her.

  When someone knocked, he swung around as if he had been caught in those thoughts. “Yeah?” he called.

  Linda stuck her head back in. “I finished one more file you might need.” She hesitated a moment, then crossed the office to put it on his desk.

  She wasn’t fooling anyone, Barry thought. There was no reason he was going to need that file tonight. She could have easily waited until morning. But it was obvious she was worried about him, and something about that warmed him.

  “Linda, do you have a minute?”

  She shrugged. “Sure.”

  He went back to his chair, and she plopped into the one across from his desk and pulled her feet under her.

  Barry dropped his hands on his desk and leaned forward. “I’m sorry I was rude to you before. I lied. I really do need to talk.”

  She nodded, as if she had known that all along. “It’s okay. What is it, Barry?”

  “My wife…she’s pregnant.”

  She looked a little disappointed. “Oh, how nice. You don’t seem very happy about it.”

  “Well, I was. Ecstatic, really. I love kids.”

  “So you were ecstatic, until…”

  She was prompting him, trying to get it out of him. “Until we found out…the baby has Down’s Syndrome.”

  “Oh, Barry!” She dropped her feet and leaned forward. “Oh, how awful. You must be devastated.”

  He studied his hands. “Linda, are you a Christian?”

  She looked startled and slightly offended by the question. “Of course I am. What do I look like? A heathen?”

  Her answer didn’t sound like a testimony to God’s grace, but he accepted it, nonetheless. “I just wondered because…Christians sometimes have strong ideas about…abortion in cases like this.”

  “Oh. Well, I would think that all that pro-life stuff doesn’t apply to medical abortions, does it?”

  “What’s a medical abortion?”

  “One that’s done for medical reasons. The health of the baby or the health of the mother.”

  “Medical abortion,” he repeated, testing the word in his mouth. “Sounds like it could cure the baby. At least make it better.”

  “Well, in a way it does. It’s all in how you think about it.”

  “No matter how my wife thinks about it, it’s just plain murder to her.”

  “Oh, I see,” she said, bringing her fingertips to her mouth again. Her polish was chipped. “Is that it? Tory doesn’t want to do anything about the baby?”

  Again, her choice of words surprised him. “She wants to have it. Down’s Syndrome and all.”

  “But it won’t be normal! It’ll have a terrible life, and be miserable, and your family will never be the same…if you even keep it. Putting it in an institution seems so cruel…”

  Vindicated, he leaned back in his chair. “I know
. I’ve told her all that. She won’t listen.”

  “I hope you don’t mind my saying so, Barry, but those prolifers always just blow my mind.” Quickly, she held up her hands to stem any protest. “I’m sorry if you’re one of them. I mean, I know some of them mean well and all. But they’re so sure they’re right, and that they stand for God’s side, but when it’s them or their kids who are pregnant, they take the easy way out, just like everybody else. And that’s okay. Nothing is black or white, Barry. There’s a lot that’s gray in this life.”

  He felt his heart sinking, for he wasn’t sure he agreed with her. He’d always thought that certain things really were black or white. Sin was sin. Wrong was wrong.

  Still, she made sense, and he had been thinking the same things often over the last few days. “I just know that God is a God of mercy. That he loves that baby, too, and that he loves me and my kids and my wife…Would he really hold it against us if we did this for the sake of our family?”

  “Of course he wouldn’t.” She leaned up on the desk. “Barry, if you don’t mind my saying so, maybe Tory is too hormonal to think clearly Maybe this is just a decision that you’re gonna have to make.”

  “I’ve thought of that,” he said. “She is hormonal. She’s upset and moody, and wants very little to do with me, mainly because of what I want her to do.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Linda said. “Barry, this could all be over in just a few hours.” She waved an arm dramatically, as if wiping the slate clean. “And then you could all go on with your lives. Have another baby, if you want. But not this one.”

  He stared down at his desk. “She won’t listen to reason. She’s a mother protecting her cub. She’s made me feel like Hitler. Like I’m condoning some kind of ethnic cleansing.”

  “Barry, sometimes there’s a cost for doing the right thing. When her body is back to normal, and the stress is gone, and she’s thinking clearly again, she’ll thank you.”