Need You Now (10 page)

The next morning, she hardly budged when the alarm went off until Brad got up, came around the bed, and nudged her. “Work today, baby.”

“Oh yeah.” She stepped out of the bed, and with her eyes barely open, she grabbed her robe. “I'll go start breakfast.”

“Dar . . .” Brad gently grabbed her arm. “Let the kids fend for themselves. There's cereal, muffins, and other stuff they can eat. They don't have to have something cooked.”

She yawned. “I guess not.”

Forty-five minutes later, she was dressed and downstairs. Chad asked if they'd ever have eggs for breakfast again, and Ansley said she hoped not.

“What's the point of just saving those eggs in the refrigerator?” Chad chuckled. “Unless we're going to save them to egg someone's house.”

“Uh—no,” Darlene said as she moved toward the coffee. “That's not happening.”

“This is weird, you working, Mom. I mean, seriously.” Chad talked with his mouth full. “What if one of your poor children needs something during the day?”

Darlene turned around and grinned at Chad's exaggerated frown. “Well, I guess my poor little darlings will just have to figure it out.”

“I'll cook eggs one morning,” Grace said as she buttered a muffin.

Ansley's eyes widened, but she didn't say anything.

Chad pointed to Grace. “I knew you'd come through for us, Grace.”

Darlene pulled her purse onto her shoulder, feeling a bit naked without any jewelry. It had taken effort, but she'd gotten her wedding ring off last night by rubbing lotion on her finger and pulling until she'd thought she might cry. “Lock everything up. And remember to clean up after yourselves, and clothes go—”

“We know, Mom,” they all chimed in together.

Darlene picked up her cup of coffee. “Then I'll see you all tonight. Love you!”

Darlene mostly listened the first hour of group session that morning. She sat in the circle, facing Rachel, the teacher Darlene's age with multiple degrees who also led the group. The two younger teachers—Christie and Beverly—chimed in occasionally, as did Myrna. All seven students had come to school that day—Myrna's granddaughter, Theresa, was the youngest at seven, and Mindy was the oldest at fifteen.

Each child had special needs, and Darlene was impressed that the teachers were able to maintain order. And they did it with kindness and compassion. Darlene liked all of the teachers, but into the second hour, she grew particularly fond of Beverly, one of the recent college graduates. A heavyset woman, Beverly had one of those mouths that always seemed to be set in a smile, and three of the children had fought for the chairs on either side of her. Beverly spoke with a slight lisp and often held her hands in a prayer position as she spoke. Not that she was praying—or maybe she was—but her voice was soft, and her comments seemed mature beyond her age. She didn't talk a lot, but when she did, she held the children's attention.

“Mindy, that's a beautiful yellow dress you have on today.” Beverly nodded toward the fifteen-year-old to her left. “That color makes me feel cheerful and happy. What does it remind you of?”

Darlene listened as the other children responded with words like
bananas
and
sunshine
. Ten-year-old Tina said yellow reminded her of a driving car.

“They used to live in New York, and her father drove a taxi,” Myrna whispered to Darlene.

It was all interesting, but Darlene wasn't feeling like she had much to contribute. She'd noticed that Mindy had begun to twirl her hair between her fingers so hard that it hurt Darlene to watch. Instinctively, Darlene's eyes darted around the room until she saw a small stuffed animal in a nearby crate filled with other toys. She waited until Rachel led everyone in a clapping game that was meant to improve hand and eye coordination. Then she slipped away.

She returned with a furry orange cat, and she put it in Mindy's lap. “I think he needs someone to pet him,” she whispered to Mindy, now wondering if she should have just stayed in her seat. But right away, Mindy pulled her hand from around the crumpled mass of her knotted hair and began to stroke the stuffed animal. Darlene remembered when Ansley used to twirl her hair, though not as hard as Mindy. It was something she'd done until she was about nine. Darlene had learned to distract her with something else.

During the last hour of the session, Darlene interacted more with the children and joined in on the discussion. Cara didn't have much to add, but Darlene had caught Cara staring at her a lot. She wondered what was going through the girl's mind, and she was anxious for the one-on-one session with Cara after lunch.

The teachers left for lunch in two shifts, and Darlene took the early shift with Rachel and Beverly.

“That was a great idea to occupy Mindy's mind with a stuffed animal. She didn't twist her hair the rest of the session,” Rachel said as she took a bite of her sandwich in the break room.

“My daughter used to do that,” Darlene said and felt a flush in her cheeks. She wasn't used to talking about her family with people she didn't know very well. But she missed having other women to talk to. As she ate, she listened to Rachel and Beverly chat and soon realized she didn't have much in common with these women—except their jobs at the school. Rachel was divorced and seemed to have a huge chip on her shoulder about men. Beverly, while sweet as she could be, was at least fifteen years Darlene's junior and newly dating a doctor in town. Christie, who was with the children, along with Myrna and Lindsey, was also young. And of course, Myrna had decades on all of them. But they were lovely women.

Darlene wondered if she'd ever find another friend like Gina, and she was curious about how Gina was doing in her new single life. She made a mental note to give her a call.

After her lunch break, Darlene went to the smaller classroom set up for Cara's one-on-one sessions. Myrna was already inside, sitting with Cara.

“All ready?” Myrna stood up. Cara was working a crossword puzzle. “I'm right in the next room if you need me. Just follow the schedule from yesterday. Consistency is essential.” Myrna looked at Cara. “Cara, remember Ms. Darlene?”

Cara didn't look up, but she nodded. Darlene took a deep breath as Myrna smiled, then left them alone together.

Darlene sat down beside Cara and watched her working the crossword puzzle. It wasn't an easy puzzle, and Darlene was surprised how many clues Cara had figured out. She waited, not wanting to interrupt and unsure exactly how to proceed. She glanced at the pile of notes she'd taken yesterday, then at the stack of books and papers between her and Cara. Just as she put a hand on the stack, Cara put her pencil down.

“Are you ready to work on some math problems?” Darlene fumbled through the pile until she found the workbook. She opened it to the page Myrna had marked, beginning where they'd left off the day before. She eased it toward Cara, who didn't look up. Darlene picked up the pencil and offered it to Cara. “Ready?”

Cara didn't move for a few moments, but eventually she took the pencil, did three of the six problems, and put the pencil back down. Darlene checked her answers. All correct. She asked her if she could finish the rest, but Cara shook her head.

The rest of the afternoon was uneventful as they worked their way through the pile. It was interesting that Cara would do some of the work, then would lift her chin and look around the room, as if she was trying to find someone or something. It always took a few minutes to get Cara's attention back on the work. During the communication segment of the class, Cara wouldn't say a word. She mostly just stared at Darlene, and although it was somewhat unsettling, by the end of the hour Darlene had gotten used to it.

Right at five o'clock, the door opened. Darlene was expecting Myrna, but it was Cara's father. Cara stood up and walked toward him. Darlene stacked the papers in a pile, then also stood and moved toward the two of them. “I think we had a good day,” she said to Mr. Schroeder.

He nodded, then leaned down and kissed Cara on the forehead. “Did you have a good day, sweetie?”

Cara shook her head. “No.”

Darlene's breath caught in her throat. She'd had no indication that things hadn't gone well.

“It was a bad day.” Cara spoke quickly and turned to glare at Darlene. Then she pointed a finger at her.

Dave Schroeder scowled at Darlene. “Anything in particular she's referring to?”

Darlene walked closer, glancing back and forth between Cara and her father. “No, I thought things went fine.” She locked eyes with Cara, but only for a second before Cara looked away. “Cara, you did a great job on your math problems, crossword puzzles, and the other work Ms. Myrna left for you today. I thought you did a fantastic job.” With the exception of the communication segment, Darlene really did think things had gone well. She smiled, hoping for a more positive reaction from Cara. Nothing. “I'm sorry, Mr. Schroeder. Maybe it's going to take Cara some time to get to know me.”

“She doesn't like change,” he said as he pushed a strand of auburn hair from Cara's cheek.

Darlene wanted to remind him that if consistency was so important for Cara, then he should try harder not to run off her teachers, but instead she nodded. “Tomorrow's a new day.”

“Tell Ms. Darlene bye, Cara.” Dave immediately moved her toward the door as if he didn't expect his daughter to respond.

“Bye, Cara. See you tomorrow.”

Darlene was pacing beside the table in the middle of the room when Myrna walked in. “Well, how did it go?”

“I thought it went fine, but Cara told her father that she had a bad day, so I don't think that went over very well.”

Myrna grinned. “Cara is a smart girl. Autistic, yes, but her thoughts are often more organized than you would think.”

Darlene tipped her head to one side. “What do you mean?”

“I mean this in the most loving, fondest of ways, Darlene, but if there were such a thing as selective autism, Cara would be the poster child for it. Just now, she told her father she had a bad day because she knows that Dad will take her for ice cream the minute they leave here. And that's all right, I suppose, but our job here is to try to teach Cara the skills necessary for her to function the best she can. Giving in to her every whim doesn't always help her.”

“But Mr. Schroeder seemed concerned that she'd had a bad day, and he didn't seem to think she was making it up. You should have seen the look he gave me.” Darlene sighed. “I'm not sure he's happy I'm here.”

“He's just an unhappy man in general. I didn't know him when his wife was alive, but I've been told that he was very different then. They ran a successful business together, and they were both completely dedicated to Cara.” Myrna paused, holding up a finger. “Dave is still very dedicated to Cara and has had a lot of success in real estate, but he's . . . how should I say . . . just rather empty inside, I think.”

Darlene cringed at the thought of anything happening to Brad. She was going to add Dave and Cara to her prayer list. “I understand.”

“Don't let him run you off, dear.” Myrna spoke firmly, then smiled. “Give it time. Like I said, I have a good feeling about you.”

“It's only my second day. I know it will take some time.”