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Authors: Barbara Freethy

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BOOK: Ask Mariah
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"My muscles are still burning," Nora complained.

"I think that's the point."

"Your mom seems to be doing well these days," Nora commented as they glanced into the aerobics class, where the group was dancing to a new beat, "At least on the outside."

"She likes to stay busy. It keeps her mind off the fact that my dad is gone."

"You're lucky to have a mother like her. She's always been your best friend, one of the girls. You wouldn't catch my mother in an aerobics class to save her life."

"Your mother is wonderful, always baking cookies and pies and decorating your house for every holiday," Joanna said wistfully. "My mother hasn't cooked a Christmas turkey in twenty years."

"We always want what we don't have."

"I guess." As an only child Joanna hadn't wanted for much. She had been the focus of her mother's life. They had done everything together -- gone to the ballet, art museums, and the symphony. She had accompanied her parents on trips to Europe and the South Pacific. She'd been incredibly fortunate. The only thing she'd ever lacked was a little space for herself.

Since she'd given up her apartment and since her father had died, things had gotten worse. Her mother wanted to do everything with her. As if on cue, Caroline appeared in the doorway.

"Joanna, there you are," she scolded, shaking her finger, "You need to cool down or your muscles will tighten up. Come walk with me."

"Too late. My muscles are on a coffee break," she said, retreating against the wall. "I can't move until they come back."

"Really, Joanna." Caroline smiled at Nora. "I love your haircut. I'm thinking of doing something different with my hair, something more cool," she said with a self-conscious smile. "That is the right word, isn't it?"

Nora laughed. "You are the coolest, Mrs. Wingate. I go to Capelli's down on Union Street."

"Mm-mm, I may have to try them." Caroline patted her hair, which she had worn in the same style for the past twenty years. "Do they do manicures? I'd love to get one. And a pedicure would be heaven. I'll call them on Monday. We can make a day of it," Caroline said, gaining enthusiasm. "What do you think, Joanna?"

She smiled faintly. Her mother seemed to be on a quest to find something new to do each day. She never wanted to just be home. "I'm not sure what my plans are for Monday or next week for that matter." The summer was looming ahead of her and she needed to do more than just keep her mother company.

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about your summer plans," Nora interrupted. "One of the teachers at Happy Hollow School is having a difficult pregnancy, and her doctor wants her to go to bed for six weeks. The summer session starts Monday and, well, we're desperate for a first grade teacher.  I thought of you."

She looked at Nora in amazement. "Seriously?"

"Yes. You love kids, Joanna. And you're an experienced teacher."

"For eighteen-year-olds, not six-year-olds."

Nora waved a hand. "Oh, there's hardly any difference. The lesson plans are done. You just have to follow the schedule."

The offer was tempting. She needed to do something different for a few months.  Since her father's death, she'd lost interest in her life and her old goals.  Her thesis on the structure of family throughout American history no longer held any interest for her.  She had several hundred pages and tons of photographs, but she just couldn't find the heart to finish it, especially since her own family had been shattered.

"What do you say?" Nora asked. "It's only six weeks, and you'll love the summer program. We do a unit on gardening, and the children plant their own vegetable garden. We also cook. You love to cook."

"It does sound like fun," she admitted.  "And not that long either."

"But what about that trip to Hawaii we were planning," her mother asked. "And the line dancing class?  You said you'd sign up with me."

She didn't want to learn line dancing or go to Hawaii. She also didn't want to hurt her mother's feelings. "You can do those things without me," she said.

"It wouldn't be the same without you."

She hesitated. Her mother was still grieving. Was it fair to leave her alone every day? But it had been two months, and she simply could not continue to spend every second with her mother. She needed time for herself -- a chance to figure out what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. One thing she'd learned from watching her father die was that life was far too short, and she'd already wasted too much of it.

"I'm sorry, maybe I shouldn't have brought this up," Nora said apologetically.

"No, I'm glad you did," she said. "I've been feeling restless.  Maybe this job will help me figure things out."

"I don't understand," her mother interrupted. "Why take a preschool job now?  What about your Ph.D.? You've worked so hard, and you're so close. How can you even consider taking a part-time job when you could be working on your thesis?"

"I can't do it right now. My mind is blank. Sometimes I don't know why I started it in the first place." She rested her palms against the wall, taking pleasure in the feel of the cool plaster beneath her fingertips. "The last time I spoke to Dad, he told me he didn't regret anything he had done in his life, only the things he hadn't done, because he was too afraid to take a risk or too busy to take the time. He told me not to make the same mistake, to dream, to reach for the stars, to grab on to something and make it mine."

Her mother looked at her as if she'd lost her mind, but then Caroline was not a dreamer. She was a doer. She got up in the morning, looked at her calendar, and followed her schedule. At night she sat down and planned the next day. Her life was a series of little things, and they seemed to keep her happy.

"Joanna, it's only natural that you feel empty, but you'll get back in the swing of things."

"Mom, please, at least let me think about it."

"Fine, I'm going to cool down." Caroline returned to the aerobics class, her shoulders stiff, her head erect.

"Sorry," Nora said with a sympathetic glance. "I didn't realize your mom had so many plans."

"My mother always has plans."

"They sound fun. Hawaii would be great."

"I've been to Hawaii. I'd rather spend time looking for an apartment."

"You're tired of the luxurious Bellarmine Towers?"

"I'm tired of living on the eighteenth floor. I want a garden and a deck. I want to look up at the trees and the sky instead of down at traffic jams."

"But you're so close to everything, the theater, great restaurants, shopping."

"I want dirt under my feet, land, trees, a view of something that isn't concrete. I want to walk out my front door and not look at an elevator panel." She shook her head, feeling her frustration boil to the surface.

"Then come and work at the school, Joanna. I can guarantee you a ground floor classroom, lots of sunshine, and plenty of dirt. It's only for six weeks. Just think, you can fill their little minds with history."

"I'll do it," she said impulsively.

"Good. You'll love the kids. First grade is an adorable age."

 

* * *

 

Bloodcurdling screams did not sound adorable, Joanna decided as she walked out of the teachers' lounge on Monday morning. The school was a long one-story building with the office in the center and two hallways leading to the classrooms in each wing.

Joanna spied Nora standing behind the reception desk, apparently oblivious to the racket.

"Is something wrong?" Joanna asked.

"What?" Nora looked up, her mind still focused on the papers in front of her. She was a veteran of eight years in the elementary school trenches and didn't exhibit any of the signs of nervousness that Joanna had experienced since she woke up that morning.

"The screaming," she said as a fresh burst of wailing rang through the open front door.

"Oh. That's just the sound of first day jitters."

"Really?" Joanna walked across the hall and looked out the front door.

Two identical twin girls were clinging to a tall dark-haired man. Their clothes were completely mismatched. One wore jeans, a T-shirt, and different colored socks; the other wore a long-sleeved dress that would have her sweating in the summer sunshine before noon. Their hair was falling out of rubber bands, made worse by the rapid shaking of their heads every time their father told them to go into the school.

"Looks like it was a tough morning," Joanna said.

Nora joined her at the front door. "Oh, my. Where did he come from -- the cover of GQ?"

"It looks like it." The man on the street wasn't just attractive, he was gorgeous.  Taller than average, he was athletically built, with dark curly hair a shade too long for his fine Italian suit. His tie was a daring shade of red, a contradiction to the conservative gray of his coat and pants.

This man would look good in a boardroom, surrounded by other power suits, but she doubted he could be more appealing than he was right now, with a crooked tie, a large wet spot on his jacket, and a doll poking out of his pocket. There was something about a man with his children that tugged at Joanna's heart.

"Those two are obviously running the show," Nora commented.

"Maybe we should help."

"Let's give him a chance.  It's better in the long run to have the parents and children separate on their own." Nora nudged Joanna with her arm. "But you know all about that, don't you -- Miss College Professor."

"We don't have to worry about separation anxiety with eighteen-year-olds." Joanna shook her head. "I must have been crazy to take this job.  I don't know how to teach little kids."

"It's not that hard. Besides, you're the most educated person I know."

"Educated in history, not six-year-olds." Joanna winced at a particularly shrill shriek. "They do eventually stop screaming, don't they?"

"If you're lucky. Relax. This job will be good for you. You said you were tired of your thesis, tired of spending all your time reading about dead people. This is real life, kiddo. If you can handle six-year-olds, you can handle anything."

"Right." Joanna moved closer to the door so she could hear the conversation going on outside.

"We talked about this," the man said, squatting in front of the girls. "You have to go to school today because you made Mrs. Polking leave, and I don't have anyone to watch you."

The two girls crossed their arms at the exact same moment and tilted their chins in the air like warriors going into battle. One girl shook her head so hard, her ponytail fell out. She looked down at the rubber band on the sidewalk and began to cry.

"It's okay, Rose," the man said. "I'll fix it." He grabbed the rubber band and roughly pulled her hair into it. The little girl cried louder.

"I wonder where their mother is," Joanna said quietly.

"Probably at work or home sick. I've never seen them before. They must have just signed up. I think they're in your class. I saw twins on the list. Their names are like flowers. Lily and Rose, I think."

"How sweet."

Nora laughed. "They look anything but sweet."

Joanna reluctantly had to agree as one of the girls took off running down the street.

"Come back here, Lily," the man said.

Lily stopped ten yards away from him and pointed in another direction.

"We're not going home," he said. "I told you, I have to go to work so I can make money to buy you clothes and toys and food. Okay? Now, listen, if you go to school, I'll buy you a big pizza at Grandpa's restaurant and we'll rent a movie tonight."

The girl standing next to him stopped crying. He turned to her in relief. "All right, Rose?"

Rose pointed toward home.

"How about a triple-fudge sundae after dinner?" the man tried again. "And we'll go to the zoo on Saturday. You love the zoo."

"He might end up giving them the house before he's through," Nora said with a chuckle.

"You are bad," she replied as Rose ran to join her sister. She felt sorry for their father. He looked like a nice guy who was completely at his wits' end. "It's strange," she said, watching him move from bribery to threats. "The girls haven't said anything to him. I wonder if they speak."

"They may not talk, but they can certainly scream." Nora winced as a loud, piercing shriek rang down the street.

Their father grabbed each girl by the hand and tried to drag them into the school. Joanna had seen enough. She walked down the steps with a welcoming smile.

The girls looked up at her and their screams stopped with such abruptness that the silence was deafening. Joanna smiled a little nervously, not sure what to do now that she was here. She was rewarded with two matching exuberant grins. She couldn't believe the instant turnaround.

"Mama!" they cried. "You came back."

Joanna's mouth dropped open as the two girls hurled themselves into her arms, laughing and crying and calling her Mama. She couldn't do anything but cuddle them. They wouldn't have settled for less.

Their father looked shocked. His light blue eyes widened in disbelief. "My God," he said. "You look just like her. The same dark hair, the same eyes, the same mouth."

BOOK: Ask Mariah
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