A Sister's Promise (Promises) (4 page)

Kate breathed deeply, stressed and relieved from simply being a witness.

Normal playground chatter returned with a slow crescendo. Kate noticed that the blond mother had left the bench and now lingered near her daughter as if she needed reassurance that her own child was OK. Kate decided to place the portrait under the woman’s cooler so it wouldn’t blow away. As Kate walked toward her car, she kept looking back, hoping to see her reaction.

Finally, the woman discovered the picture. She glanced up with a questioning look, made eye contact with Kate and waved. Staring affectionately at the sketch, the mother grinned. Kate couldn’t help but wonder:
 
Was it Kate’s creation she admired or her own?

Kate continued toward the parking lot, marveling at the woman who forgot about her purse when she heard her son cry. Shaking her head, Kate crumpled her list and threw it in a wide-mouthed trashcan.

She climbed into her car. Then she thought of one more con. Mitch didn’t want kids. Ever.

CHAPTER FOUR

I can’t believe I told Joely I’d have a baby, Kate thought as she drove to work the next morning. Given their background, she wasn’t sure either one of them should’ve ever considered having kids. Of course, Joely always had been more optimistic about life than Kate.

So what had compelled Kate to say such an absurd thing? Was there some part of her that
did
want a child? She needed to figure that out before she said anything to Mitch that might threaten their marriage—the marriage they agreed would remain childless.

Maybe she had just felt so distraught over her sister’s illness that she had been willing to say anything.

Did Joely really have the same thing that Mom did? Because whatever Mom had, killed her. The doctor said the treatment of lupus had come a long way in the past twenty years, but that didn’t mean Joely wouldn’t. . . . Kate squeezed the steering wheel, leaving nail marks on the leather.

Minutes later she parked outside Foxworth High School, constructed decades ago of red brick. A necessary addition, laid with mismatched maroon bricks, was attached to the building, as if it were Cinderella’s ugly stepsister. As always, once Kate saw the history and character inside, she forgot about the unfortunate exterior.

Grabbing the massive oak banister of the main staircase, she headed toward Trish’s classroom. She hoped her friend could help her sort things out.

“Welcome back,” Rhonda, the director of guidance, said as Kate passed her on the landing. “There are several students waiting to talk to you downstairs.”

Kate paused. Since she had been gone for a week, she felt obligated to take care of business. She turned around and walked to her office. Five students from the lobby followed her, crowding the small room as they vied for her attention. Her voicemail light blinked and she noticed several notes from students taped to her computer screen. Overwhelmed, she listened to the students as best she could until the first bell rang and they left for class.

Knowing Trish wouldn’t be free to talk until lunch, Kate sighed. She gathered the notes into one pile and rubbed her forehead. How would she deal with all of these student requests when all she could think about was Joely?

Squeak
. She looked up. Rhonda stood in the doorway, her silver hair in a bun, making her look more like a librarian than a counselor. She closed the door behind her and sat down.

“How is she?” Rhonda asked in her soft voice.

“OK, I guess. I talked to her this morning—that’s why I was late.” Kate omitted the fact that she kept hitting the snooze button because she had been compulsively reading lupus websites until two a.m. She found out a sibling of a lupus patient was twenty-five times more likely to develop the disease than the general population. She shook away the thought. “Thanks for understanding about my taking time off.”

“You take all the time you need.”

Kate remembered when Rhonda regularly missed work last year to take her own father to chemotherapy. No doubt she understood the need to sit by someone’s side even when there was nothing you could do.

“I appreciate your offer,” Kate said. “I hate to be gone. . .but she doesn’t have anyone else.”

Reaching across the desk, Rhonda placed her hand on top of Kate’s. “I understand. Family comes first. You know I feel that way.”

Kate hadn’t thought it possible, but her dreariness lifted a little. That was the benefit of having a counselor for her supervisor. But Rhonda meant so much more than that to her. At times like this, Kate sensed Rhonda slipping into a maternal role and Kate was more than willing to benefit from her need to nurture.

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do,” Rhonda said, still holding her hand.

Kate didn’t want her to let go. She looked away, resisting the stinging in her eyes. No time for that now. In fact, she saw Lily, one of her students in foster care, peering in the glass inset on her door. Kate took a deep breath, allowing herself to be soothed by Rhonda’s subtle vanilla scent. “Thanks.”

Rhonda stood up. “Oh, I almost forgot. Mr. Mohr wants to see you. He stopped by yesterday.”

The tidal wave of stress started building again. Rhonda may have been Kate’s direct supervisor, but Mr. Mohr, the militant principal, was the one who evaluated her.

Rhonda left and in walked one of Kate’s greatest challenges.

“My English teacher sent me,” Lily said. She plopped down in the chair across from Kate, replacing Rhonda’s sweet smell with the rankness of day-old sweat. Trying to be discreet, Kate started breathing only through her mouth. Lily’s red hair hung in her face, wild and matted. Kate could see the edges of what she knew was the word “Hate” tattooed across the back of Lily’s neck. Most of the teachers and all of the students kept their distance from her, which Kate suspected was exactly how Lily liked it.

“Now, why would she do that?” Kate asked, even though she already had a pretty good idea.

“I don’t know.” She popped her gum while staring down a paper clip on Kate’s desk.

Kate knew Lily was taking the easy way out with this answer. If creative writing was like any of her other classes, she probably wasn’t doing her homework. “Why don’t you take a guess?”

Lily narrowed her mud-colored eyes at her as if she were trying to decide if Kate was playing with her. Kate was fortunate because unlike the teachers, she had access to Lily’s confidential file. She knew about the abuse—no, that wasn’t the right word—the torture Lily had endured as a young child. Kate knew how Lily was locked in the closet for days without food while her mom went on drinking binges. She knew Lily’s mom poured water over her to wake her up in the morning, and she knew about the cigarette burns on her genitalia—probably from her mom’s boyfriend, according to the Child Protective Services report. Kate knew these things and she understood Lily’s antisocial behavior, as much as someone with a “normal” childhood could. She knew these things and they made her want to reach across the giant abyss to connect with her. After three years of failed attempts, she was still trying.

Lily sat mute, challenge and defiance all around her.

Part of Kate wanted to take Lily home and wash her hair, clip her dirty fingernails and put her in some cute Gap clothes. She would be beautiful. But Kate thought that was what Lily feared.

“How many assignments have you turned in this semester?” Kate asked.

Lily grunted and shrugged her shoulders.

This was how she used to communicate with Kate. In fact, Lily used to turn the other way when she saw her in the hallway because Kate would always make a point to talk with her. Last spring, though, Lily stopped avoiding her and would tolerate brief hallway conversations. Even though it was only primitive communication, Kate felt that they had reached a huge milestone in their relationship.

“I’m guessing not very many.” Kate sighed, unsure of what to say. “Lily, you are so smart. I wish you wouldn’t hide it.”

She saw surprise and—what? Was that a flash of pride in her eyes? It was already gone before Lily looked down at the floor. Kate had never seen her smile. But she suspected, just for a minute, that Lily felt something. It was enough for Kate.

“The truth is you could go to college if you would just start trying.”

Lily stopped chewing her gum, raising Kate’s hopes that she was listening.

“Well, I’ll tell your creative writing teacher that I raked you over the coals and you have agreed to turn in every assignment from now on,” Kate teased.

Nothing.

Kate sent her back to class.

When the next student walked in, he picked up a paperback novel off the floor. “Someone left this.”

She looked at the tattered cover. It was
Dreamcatcher
by Stephen King. Now she had a topic of conversation the next time she saw Lily in the hall. Kate smiled.

Her day progressed without any breaks as she saw student after student. When the lunch bell rang, she stood up, anxious to talk to Trish. Unfortunately, two freshmen walked in, begging her to let them drop a class they were failing. The discussion lasted the whole period.

When the final bell rang, Kate’s neglected belly rumbled. Although no students had stayed after to talk to her, she felt the pressure of her workload. A plethora of e-mails still waited for her response and her desk was a mess. She slid open her center drawer. Rubber bands, tacks, pens from the Navy recruiter and yes, four quarters and a dime. After a visit to the vending machine, she decided to track down Trish and tell her about her no-win situation.

At the top of the stairs Kate saw Linda Cochran. The teacher had a gray streak through her black hair, which reminded Kate of Cruella De Vil. “Hi,” Kate offered. Linda looked her dead in the eyes, but did not respond. That was why Kate called her Mrs. B behind her back. The “B” stood for B-I-T-C-H. At least that was the way she acted around Kate. Kate had racked her brain trying to figure out why since she had always been nice to her. She was nice to everybody. Too nice sometimes.

Kate walked into her friend’s classroom. Trish’s auburn hair covered her cheek as she hunched over a student at a desk, explaining a math problem. What was that girl’s name? Kate knew they had talked last spring about her best friend blowing her off to be with her boyfriend. Kate could remember her face and their discussion, so why couldn’t she remember her name? Was it a sign?

Kate bit into her candy bar. A moment later, Trish told the student to keep working and led Kate to her adjoining office for more privacy. Stacks of papers and algebra textbooks rose up from the floor, teetering like Leaning Towers of Pisa. The desk was littered with graded tests and bridal magazines.

The gown on the cover of
June Bride
had a lacy off-the-shoulder neckline and a fitted mermaid skirt, similar to the one Kate wore to her own wedding. Unlike Trish who had been imagining a big wedding ever since she heard the phrase “and they lived happily ever after”, Kate had planned on eloping—probably because she didn’t have anyone to give her away. But apparently deep down inside of Kate lived a little girl who longed to be a princess for one day. Fortunately, Joely had helped her realize that.

As Kate’s maid of honor, Joely gracefully planned the wedding using the knowledge and resources she had gained from her own aborted ceremony. For her wedding and so many other things, Kate owed her sister. Kate’s eyes started to water.

Now that she finally had the opportunity to talk about Joely’s illness, Kate realized she didn’t want to. She certainly didn’t want to risk a pupil seeing her lose control.

The wedding magazines reminded Kate how desperately Trish wanted to be married. “How did your blind date go?”

“Perfect.” Like Kate, Trish’s petite frame precluded her from wearing jeans to chaperone field trips, unless she risk being mistaken for a student. Now that a smile reached her eyes, Trish looked even more like a teenager—a teenager in love. “He just graduated from law school and is studying to pass the bar.”

“Sounds good. But tell me what really matters—is he cute?”

“Oh, yeah. He has sandy-colored hair that I can’t wait to run my hands through and this perpetual look on his face like he’s discovered the secret to happiness.”

“Mmm.”

“He asked me all kinds of questions about where I grew up, how long I’ve been a teacher, what my ultimate vacation would be. Kate, he is everything I ever wanted.”

“That’s great. Mrs. B fixed you up, right?”

Trish sighed. Mrs. B had been Trish’s social studies teacher when she was a Foxworth High student. Kate wished she could vent to her friend about Mrs. B’s rudeness in the hallway just now, but Trish always felt compelled to defend her.

“Yes, he’s her nephew,” Trish said. “Speaking of nephews, did I show you the latest addition to the clan?” Kate shook her head as Trish opened her wallet and thrust an image of a sleeping infant at her. “My sister’s new baby.”

Kate wrestled with a smile. “And you already have two nieces, right?”

Trish nodded. “I need to hurry up and get married so the cousins will be close together in age.”

Sadness surged inside of Kate and her face crumpled.

Trish put her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Joely. . . just found out. . . she probably can’t ever have kids.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

After she filled Trish in on Joely’s condition, Kate closed her eyes, trying to smother the raw emotion inside her. Joely was younger, stronger, and should’ve been healthier than Kate. She was supposed to out-live Kate. Why did everyone she love die?

Overwhelming pain threatened to spill out of her. And then Trish’s arms were around her, providing comfort and signaling to her subconscious that it was safe to let go. She felt sobs coming and feared that once they started, they might never end.

She pulled away. As she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, she insisted she needed to get back to work. She took some deep breaths, trying to center herself, then hurried out of the room with her face down.

When Kate returned to her office, she was surprised to find a couple with a baby waiting for her.