Home to You (9 page)

“Oh, you poor dear!” Margaret stood up and tottered
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over to her. And then Margaret did something very un-usual for the sisters—she fell down next to Meghan and pulled her into a hug.

Carolyne watched, stunned.

“You must be devastated.” Mary pushed herself up, tottering over to the other side. “I remember your grandmother.”

Meghan burst into tears.

“Well, that’s nice, now, isn’t it, sister.” Margaret glared at her sister.

“What did I do?” Mary asked and started patting Meghan’s shoulder. “There there, dear. It’s going to be okay. God is in control.”

“Well, of course He is, sister. Don’t I always say that?” Margaret made soothing sounds.

She reached over to the table, pulled out some tissues from the floral box and pushed them into Meghan’s hand. “Now, here we go. This isn’t the end of the world—”

“Well, of course it’s not, sister,” Mary began. “The Bible says—”

“I was
speaking
metaphorically.” Margaret stared down her nose at her sister.

“She likes to think she’s smart.” Mary sniffed deli-cately.

Meghan wiped her eyes and then blew her nose.

“As I was saying,” Margaret continued, “it’s not the end of the world. You came here for help and help you are going to get.”

“I—excuse me?” Meghan asked. She glanced to Carolyne for help but Carolyne had no idea what in the world the sisters were up to.

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“Well…it’s obvious you need clothes. So, first business of the day is to go shopping.”

Meghan blushed and Carolyne was certain she knew why. Meghan had no money, she would bet, so she tried to intervene. “I have someone coming over later today.

Chase needs a babysitter and I promised him I’d be here to talk with him about watching his daughter.”

“Do you think that wise?” Margaret asked and glanced at Meghan.

“I see no problem,” Carolyne said, “but since I have to be here, Meghan and I won’t be able to go out and do any shopping today.”

Carolyne thought she’d solved that problem until Margaret, with her ways, replied, “Nonsense. We’ll take her.”

“Oh, my.” Mary clapped her hands together. “That would be delightful.”

Meghan flushed again. “I—well—I don’t have a job right now.” She fidgeted, confirming Carolyne’s fears.

Margaret studied her. “Spent your last penny on booze, did you?”

Meghan turned red to the roots of her hair and Carolyne nearly groaned.

“Don’t you worry,” Margaret reassured her. “We don’t get to help people often.”

“Oh, my, that’s true,” Mary added. “Why, the last time was in 1976, or was it 1986?”

Margaret frowned. “It was last February, dimwit.”

“You don’t have to name call,” Mary admonished.

“And that doesn’t count.”

“And why not?”

“Because the young person we helped ended up—”

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“Still it counts.” Margaret waved a blue-veined hand.

“And you don’t have to worry about paying us back,”

Margaret warned her. “Papa left us money.”

“We’re rich,” Mary affirmed.

“We don’t have anything else to spend the money on,” Margaret added.

“But you don’t know me,” Meghan argued, looking embarrassed and a bit flustered.

Carolyne thought to intervene and then simply sat back and waited. She’d known the women too long and knew it would be useless.

Margaret smiled. “You need help, and we can help.

What else is there to know?”

Mary patted Meghan’s hand. “And we really want to do this for you.”

“We need to put any rumors to rest about Pastor Cody and any bad morals going on here. The entire town knows about yesterday.”

“Margaret!” Carolyne had to admit Margaret had shocked her with that.

“Well, you know how a town can gossip. And Pastor Cody needs all the help he can get.”

A ghost of a smile crossed Meghan’s face. Carolyne wondered what it was that the sisters had said that amused Meghan enough to draw that look. She had to admit the way Margaret had made that last statement so melodramatically nearly drew a smile from her as well. The sisters were very protective of Dakota and it showed whenever they talked about him.

“Well, if it’s to protect Pastor Cody and his mother, then I guess I’ll go.”

“See! I knew you were a good girl. Didn’t I tell you,
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Carolyne? She’s a good girl and wants to make sure no one thinks anything else!”

Actually, Carolyne thought, Margaret was the very one who had called her and suggested that Meghan was a lady of the evening.

“I believe that was me that said she was a good girl, sister,” Mary argued.

“No. You told Carolyne she was drinking,” Margaret corrected. “I’m the one who didn’t call the police.”

“Well, I didn’t either. Did you see any police out here?” Mary waved her arthritic hand toward the front door, agitated.

“That’s not the point.” Margaret turned to Meghan and patted her hand, smiling as if she’d scored a point with her sister. “We’ll go get ready. Come over to our house in fifteen minutes and we’ll leave.”

“You can drive?” Meghan asked, surprised.

“Well, of course.” Margaret actually looked offended.

“But I’m the better driver,” Mary added.

“No, you’re not,” Margaret disagreed, clearly exasperated with her sister. “You drove up on that curb last week. Remember?”

“I’ve never been in a wreck,” Mary informed them superiorly, a smile curving her lips and changing the wrinkles on her face to lines of happiness.

“That was back during the war, sister,” Margaret argued. “One wreck. One wreck and you think that means my driving is worse than yours. Well, what about that tree you nearly hit?” Margaret asked as she slowly pulled herself to a standing position and started toward the door.

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Mary stood and creakily walked out after her, tottering along as fast as she could go. “That wasn’t my fault.

If you hadn’t distracted me…”

Their voices faded as they teetered on down the stairs and toward their yard.

“Wow.” Meghan shook her head in bewilderment.

Carolyne smiled. “They haven’t changed a bit, have they?”

Meghan chuckled. Then her expression went from amazement to trepidation. “What if they were right and everyone knows about yesterday? I don’t remember much. I just remember a bottle and laughing and…”

Meghan bit her lower lip, her brow creasing with worry.

Carolyne was glad she didn’t remember. And she wasn’t going to admit the sisters were probably right about the entire town knowing. Instead, she asked,

“Does it really matter what others think?”

Of course it did, Carolyne silently answered herself, knowing that they could give Meghan no end of grief.

So she added, “Besides, do you really think anyone is going to notice you there, with Mary and Margaret in the same room?”

That ghost of a smile returned and Carolyne thought perhaps God had sent those two old women over just for Meghan. They had gotten her to cry and relieve the stress of her confession and had reassured her that they accepted her, and then when Mary had patted her hand in such a loving maternal way just before the sisters had left, she had seen Meghan melt.

They had accomplished more than Carolyne had been able to all morning.

Carolyne sighed, thinking perhaps she wasn’t as
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good with people as she had hoped, but certainly glad God had sent someone who could break the ice around the heart of the hurting lonely woman.

She had to wonder just what was going to happen in town. Seeing that Meghan was staring at her questioningly, Carolyne smiled. “I bet you’ll have a great time in town.”

Chapter Seven

Chase walked into the old-fashioned middle school, memories flooding back of years gone by. Tall narrow doors, no longer brown, but painted red and blue, with yellow and green full-length lockers, filled the hall.

The old ceramic tile had been replaced with new, light-tan tiles that shone with a recent waxing. But the smells were the same: cleaning fluid and chalk dust.

His feet echoed as he walked down the hall toward the office. Pictures of past classes hung along the left side of the hall as he approached the room he’d seen only occasionally as a child—the office.

Grabbing the handle, he pushed the door open and stepped up to the long counter where one man and two women were working.

He spotted Sarah in the corner, just outside of the principal’s door. Sitting on the sofa, arms crossed mutinously, she watched him with a glare, though he could see through it and catch the fear behind it. Her blue eyes shouted that fear even as they tried to convey loathing.

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Her fisted hands were a sure sign that his mousy-haired little girl knew whatever she’d done was going to see punishment.

Oh, yes, he knew that look well and she was braced for a fight.

“May I help you—Oh! Mr. Sandoval.” The older woman that he’d met the first day he’d enrolled Sarah nodded gravely. “Mr. Zimmerman is in his office. You can go on in.”

The man who had been filing glanced up, studied Chase and then shook his head slightly. Chase wondered what that meant as he followed the older woman with the gray hair to Zimmerman’s door. The young woman at the computer smiled a knowing smile and Chase relaxed. Evidently, it wasn’t as bad as he had feared.

Chase gave his daughter one of his displeased looks, and then walked into the office.

Principal Zimmerman was a short man, with a kind smile. He remembered that much from meeting him. In his mid-forties, he struck Chase as very interested in both the school and the children.

He came around his desk now with his hand out.

Chase accepted it. “I came as soon as I received word.

Can you tell me what’s happened?”

Old scenarios came to mind: talking back to a teacher, not turning in homework.

“Please, have a seat.” Zimmerman motioned to the two chairs in front of his paper-covered desk.

Chase sat down in one of the chairs and crossed his ankle upon his knee. He tried to appear relaxed, but inside he was a mass of jumbled nerves.

“Mr. Sandoval, I’m going to cut right to the point.

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Your daughter was caught smoking in the girls’ bathroom.”

Relief flooded him and then rage. Relief that she hadn’t been hurt, followed by rage that she would do something like that to her body. “She has never smoked before. And Jerry said something about fighting.”

The principal didn’t look as if he believed him regarding his first comment. “It was a verbal fight. The secretary, Mrs. Moriarty, should have said
verbal
. Between the teacher and the two students.”

He pulled out a manila folder and thumbed through it. “Sarah’s file shows a disposition to trouble at her last school.”

Chase scowled, his cheeks heating up. “Well, yes, but she was in with the wrong crowd there.” And he believed that. She’d been going through a hard time and had isolated herself. Others had come in to fill the emptiness and she had started acting out over her mother’s death at the encouragement of those kids.

The principal stopped thumbing. “Was it by her choice? one must ask.”

Heat crept up from the collar of Chase’s shirt—heat from rising ire. “One must also ask why my daughter isn’t in here to tell me what happened herself.” He had liked the principal at first but was quickly changing his mind.

The principal nodded. “That might be a good idea.

Before she comes in, though, I’d like to ask you if there are problems at home, something that might be causing her to act out.”

Chase’s jaw hurt and he realized he had it clenched tight. Forcing himself to relax, he replied, “She lost her mother to cancer.”

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“I’m sorry,” Zimmerman offered and Chase could tell he meant it.

Chase’s anger drained. The man was only doing his job, after all, and sometimes that job wasn’t pleasant.

“It’s an adjustment.”

“Have you sought counseling?” the principal asked, concern knitting his brows.

Chase shook his head. When he didn’t say anything else, Zimmerman took the hint and hit the intercom.

“Sandy, send in Miss Sandoval.”

In seconds the door opened and a rebellious Sarah strode in, arms at her sides, hands held tightly against her thighs.

Chase could see the guilt in the way she refused to meet his gaze. She stalked over to the chair and sat down, hands still by her sides, clenching into fists, a sign of fear for Sarah though it might look like anger to anyone else but her father.

“I hear you have something to tell me,” Chase said after the door closed, leaving only the three of them in the room.

Sarah’s chin went up. “It was only smoking. Everyone smokes at my old school.”

“You included?” Chase asked mildly.

She shrugged.

He took that as a no. If she had smoked, she would have acknowledged it. She had no trouble voicing her opinion when she was angry. And by not having the am-munition to back up this latest incident, she wouldn’t answer, hoping to prod him to anger as well. She was really good at that.

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“Miss Sandoval. I’d like to hear the answer to that, please,” the principal said in a fatherly tone.

She averted her gaze. “Well, it was offered. I mean, everyone did it but I just didn’t want to—at the time.

It’s no big deal.”

“I’m afraid it is at this school,” the principal rebuffed her. “We don’t allow smoking or drinking, profanity, in-timidation of other students, no chewing tobacco, though I doubt we’ll have a problem with that habit from you.” He smiled at Chase shortly and then returned a stern expression to Sarah.

“No, we won’t,” Chase added. “Nor will we have a problem with smoking again.” He stared hard at his daughter. “Will we?”