Wisdom Tree (6 page)

“You said God doesn’t make mistakes.” Corey’s lower lip trembled, and suddenly he looked a whole lot younger than twelve. He rubbed his eyes, fought back a sniffle and turned his face away from Jake. “But He took Mom and Dad, and that has to be a mistake, doesn’t it?”

“Sometimes we don’t understand right away why things happen.” Hadn’t Jake asked himself the same question a hundred times over? The answer was always the same. “Sometimes we never understand. But that doesn’t mean those things are mistakes.”

“So you think it was right for Mom and Dad to…to die?”

“I didn’t say that. I just said—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Corey pushed back from the table. “I’m going to bed.”

“Corey, wait.” Jake reached for him. “We should talk this out.”

“I’m tired, Jake. And I’m not hungry anymore.” Corey wiggled from Jake’s grasp and looked at him with damp, wounded eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but clamped it shut before uttering a word. Instead, he grabbed the bag of cookies and the mac-and-cheese and tossed them back into the pantry. “See you in the morning.”

“Goodnight.” Filled with a sense of helplessness, Jake watched him lope through the doorway and into the hall.

“Whatever.” Corey’s voice drifted back.

Jake pressed a hand to his throbbing forehead and wished he could banish the offensive word from the English language, forever. A door slammed, and the springs on Corey’s bed squeaked in protest beneath his weight. Then oppressive silence blanketed the house.

How will I ever reach him? I miss my brother…the happy-go-lucky kid he used to be.
Jake stood and stretched his legs. He refilled his glass with sweet tea and wandered out to the back porch to collapse into a padded rattan chair. The night was unseasonably warm—an Indian summer—but the musky scent of fall clung to the air. The sky was a swatch of black velvet dotted by sparkling sequins, and in the distance, cicadas sang a melancholy tune. Jake sipped tea and allowed his mind to wander to thoughts of Carin O’Malley.

After their meeting, he’d walked her to her car while Corey sulked over the journal. The breeze was warm beneath a brilliant sun, and the lot was deserted except for his Jeep, her powder-blue sedan, and the van Patrick and Julie used to haul their brood.

“Thanks for taking the time to come today.” Jake paused as they reached the car. He leaned against the bumper and turned his face to the sun. “I’m sorry Corey’s been so much trouble.”

“It will be better now.” Carin’s voice soothed his worry. She smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind one ear as the breeze freed it from a silver clip.

“I sure hope so.” Jake cleared his throat, trying to focus on Corey instead of the sandalwood scent that clung to Carin’s skin.

“I
know
so. I have a sixth sense about these things.”

Jake shifted his weight against the rear fender. “So, you’ve done this before?”

“I…” She paused, bit her lower lip, and then seemed to shift gears. “What middle school teacher hasn’t?”

“Hmm…” He thought for a moment. “Most of them?”

She shrugged. “The ones I know go the extra mile.”

“Well, I’m thankful for you. As you can guess, Corey needs something that, so far, I haven’t been able to give him.”

“What happened to Corey?”

“Not just Corey…us.” Jake lowered his voice. “My folks—our folks—died last January.”

“I’m so sorry, Jake.” Her eyes flashed with shock, then narrowed. Jake caught a glimpse of tears as she dipped her head and turned slightly. “But that…explains things.”

“We’re just trying to get our bearings. It’s taking longer than I expected.”

He watched her swipe a tear from one eye with the tip of her finger.

“Well, I’ll help as much as I can from my end.” Her voice was thick, the southern lilt more defined.

“I appreciate it.” Jake jammed his hands into his pockets. “And I’m sorry about the…confusion.”

“You mean the caretaker thing?” She shrugged slightly.

“Yeah, that.”

“No harm done.” She turned back to him and wiggled one foot, clad in a strappy sandal. “I still have all my toes.”

Jake laughed and opened the car door for her. “I guess I’ll be seeing you?”

“I’ll keep you posted…on Corey’s progress, I mean.” She slipped into the driver’s seat and reached for a tissue from a box on the console. “It was nice to meet you, Jake.”

“I’m here every Sunday and plenty in between.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She dabbed her eyes, then offered a slight smile as she slipped a key into the ignition. “See you soon.”

A barking dog a few yards down drew Jake back. He sipped tea and pictured Carin sitting on her own back porch, grading papers with one of her infamous green pens, as she twirled a strand of sleek curls around a finger. Maybe between papers she paused to gaze up at the same starlit sky he admired.

Does it look the same to her…like an ocean of wishes just beyond reach?

Maybe he’d pay her a visit later this week…check up on Corey’s progress. Jake smiled at the thought and drained his glass. He leaned back in the chair, propped his hands behind his head, and sighed.

5

“So this is your battleground?” Jake leaned in the doorway to survey the seventh grade classroom. Oversized paperback dictionaries were stacked in neat piles along a bookshelf on the far wall, and workbook pages filled colorful file bins beneath a window that ushered in brilliant afternoon sun. Carin’s neat handwriting graced one side of the dry-erase board with a list of this week’s vocabulary words. The letters were printed with a flourish, and on the far side of the board, she’d outlined the steps to a well-constructed essay.

“Hello, Jake.” Carin looked up from a desk covered in a sea of essays, and Jake’s breath caught at the way sunlight danced across her eyes, bringing out a deeper shade of emerald. Her hair hung loose today—soft curls kissed the nape of her neck and brushed across her forehead. She clutched a green pen in one hand. Jake laughed, and she scrunched her nose at him. “What’s so funny?”

“I’m…um…just admiring your weapon of choice.”

She followed his gaze and then laughed softly, too, as she loosened her grip on the pen. “I just bought a new pack, wore the last one out. The writing’s improving by leaps and bounds, though, so all my efforts with the students seem to be paying off.”

“Does that include Corey?”

“Well, so far he’s turned in his journal this week, and he retook that chapter test—made an A, I might add—so he’s on the right track. And he did a better job on the essay I assigned yesterday. Would you like to see?”

“May I?”

“Of course. It was a free-write activity, and each student got to choose his or her topic of choice.” She thumbed through the pile and handed a dog-eared sheet of notebook paper to Jake. “Corey wrote about you.”

“He did?” Jake glanced at the title and frowned. “‘My Brother’s Most Annoying Habits.’ Wow, I’ll bet this was entertaining to read. Let’s see…‘Tells me not to drink out of the milk carton—who cares? Nobody else drinks out of it but me. Won’t let me go to the arcade on Friday nights—
everyone
goes to the arcade on Friday night. Makes me do my homework on Friday night instead of going to the arcade—do I really have to elaborate on this one?’” Jake grimaced. “I sound like a real dictator, don’t I?”

“Just your typical walk through parenthood.”

“But I’m
not
his parent. I’m just his brother. Sometimes I really miss just being his brother. It was a whole lot easier and definitely more fun.”

“I’m sorry, Jake.”

“But on the bright side, he only got, let’s see…” Jake smoothed his index finger across the paper, counting the green marks. “Four slashes and two comments. Not bad for a two-page essay.” He handed the paper back to Carin and eased over to a student desk. He pulled the chair back. “May I?”

“I’m not sure you’ll fit, but give it a try.”

“Funny thing”—Jake settled in, though his knees were seriously cramped in the minimal space beneath the desk—“but I don’t remember any of my teachers looking quite like…you.”

“What, no green pens?” Carin waggled the tip at him.

He laughed. “I mean…well…”

“Cat got your tongue?”

He grimaced, suddenly wondering what he was thinking here, stumbling around asking her for a date. After the debacle with Rachelle, he’d sworn off women, hadn’t he? Yet something drew him to Carin…something he couldn’t explain. He shifted his weight in the desk, bumped his knees against the wood and grimaced as a jolt of pain shot through him. “I’m with Corey. Those figures of speech…”

“A little extra homework can help with that.”

“Give me a minute here. I think I’m a bit oxygen deprived in…this…cramped…space.” He shifted again, freeing his legs. “That’s better.” He trained his gaze on her deep green eyes. “Now, what I’d really like is dinner with you—to say thank you for all you’re doing to help Corey, and, well…because I’d like to have dinner with you.”

“Oh. In that case…”

Jake plunged right in, no turning back now. “Do you like Chinese food?”

“Yes. Very much.”

“It’s short notice, but Corey’s over at Dillon’s working on a science project, and I know this little place just down the road…”

“Oh, tonight?” The smile melted from Carin’s face. “I’d love to, Jake, but I already have plans.”

“Should have figured that.” Jake felt an odd sense of disappointment. “Well, would you mind giving me your number so I can call you? My schedule’s kind of crazy, but I’m sure we can work something out…in this millennium.”

“I…” She hesitated, then shook her head and laughed nervously. “I guess it would be OK.”

“I’m not trying to force you into anything. No pressure, OK?” Jake leaned back in the chair. “Tell you what. Why don’t you come out to the church on Saturday morning with Hailey and help with the playground improvements and the garden area? She’s getting a group together, and I’m at the top of the list.”

“She mentioned that and asked me to help, too.”

“So, what’s the verdict?”

“I’ll think about it.” Carin shuffled the papers on her desk, and Jake wondered if she felt the same odd flutter in her belly that he did.

She looked up at him. “Now, you should unfold yourself from that desk before you suffer permanent damage, and I really need to finish these essays before I leave. I don’t want to take work home tonight.”

“I guess I’ll go, then.” Jake stood up, massaging a cramp from his right leg. He pushed the chair in. “Thanks again for helping Corey. I hope to see you again…soon.”

****

“Was that Pastor Jake I saw leaving your classroom?” Hailey asked as she paused at Carin’s classroom doorway with her purse slung over one shoulder and a paper-filled tote in hand.

“Yes. He stopped by to check on Corey.”

“How’s that situation going?”

“Better…so far.”

Hailey leaned one hip against the doorjamb. “Did I hear him ask you to dinner?”

“Were you eavesdropping?”

“Me?” Her hazel eyes widened and she shook her head. “No. I just happened to be passing by when he mentioned something about you, him, and a Chinese restaurant. So, are you going to go?”

“I told him I have plans.”

“You—what plans?”

“My usual Thursday evening plans…you know.” Carin checked her watch and gasped. “Oh, and I’m late. Gotta go.” She gathered the tote and her cotton sweater.

“Carin, wait.” Hailey followed as Carin pushed past her to rush down the hall. “If Jake asks again, you should go to dinner with him. He’s a nice guy.”

“He’s a pastor. If he knew what I’ve been through—the whole story—he wouldn’t have anything to do with me. Nothing at all.”

“You have to quit thinking like that. It’s not true.”

“It
is
true.”

“Have you gotten any more calls from you-know-who?”

The mention of Phillip caused Carin’s belly to tumble. “A few nights ago. But I can’t talk about it now. I don’t
want
to talk about it now. I’ll call you later.”

“You’d better. And I want to chat with you about helping with that grounds-keeping project at church. It would be good for you to get out and meet some new people…people under the age of eighty, at least.”

“Later, Hailey. I have to go. Lilly’s waiting for me. I promised her a special dinner tonight.”

Carin practically flew to her car. She made a quick stop at the Chuck’s Fried Chicken drive-thru on her way to the senior center. The brown-brick building flanked by a flowing creek at the edge of town was becoming more familiar with each passing week. Leaves on the maple trees that lined a concrete walkway were beginning to change to subtle hues of yellow and orange laced with magenta. Double glass doors swished open and the odor inside swirled around her—a mixture of disinfectant and age mingled with food from the cafeteria.

Carin had been visiting at the center for nearly three months, and she didn’t know who enjoyed the visits more—her or Lilly. She’d been hooked since she saw a news segment on the evening edition of Channel Ten News. The local nursing home was looking for volunteers to visit with their residents—kind of a reverse Big Brother/Big Sister program. So one day after school Carin went to inquire, and she was matched with Lilly. Now she visited for a few hours every Thursday evening.

She knocked on the door of a room farthest down the first-floor hall, and then entered without waiting for a response. The scent of spearmint greeted her—Lilly grew the aromatic plant in a box on the sill of her large picture window that overlooked an expansive, serene pond—and she enjoyed chewing the leaves in lieu of gum.

“Hello, Lilly.” Carin smiled at the slight woman with a shock of white hair pulled back into a neat chignon. She sat in a padded rocking chair beneath a tall floor lamp, reading a large-print paperback. “I brought you dinner.”

“Hello, dear.” Lilly glanced up and set the book aside. “How was school today?”

“An adventure, as usual.” Carin set the paper bag filled with Lilly’s favorite chicken on the small side table. “But I’m beginning to get the hang of the routine.”