More Than This: Contemporary Christian Romance Novel (28 page)

“Please, have a seat.”

Sitting with her nerves so on-edge was not easy, but she managed to accomplish it.

“Now, what can I do for you?”

It was strange how scared and shaky she suddenly felt, how embarrassed by the need to ask for help. She breathed all of that down. Nothing upon nothing was going to stop her now. “Well, I found out something rather interesting over the weekend.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. See there’s this guy. He’s...” She’d never actually put it into out-loud words before. “Well, he’s my boyfriend.”

Mrs. McLaughlin nodded but said nothing.

“We’ve known each other for a while now, and I always knew he wanted to be a writer. He comes up with all these amazing stories, and he knows history like I wish I did. But last night was the first time... Well, he showed me his book, on the computer, and it’s just... Well, it’s a mess to be honest with you. Not grammar-wise. Well, I don’t even know about that because it’s completely unreadable. The whole thing is just covered in red and green lines.”

“From an editor?”

“No, from the computer. It’s like every other word is misspelled.”

Comprehension began to dawn on Mrs. McLaughlin’s face. “How old is your friend?”

“Um, about 30 I think. We talked about it later, and he never finished high school. He dropped out when he was a junior and went to work out on the docks. I want to help him, but I don’t even know where to start. He thinks it’s hopeless, not that I blame him, looking at that screen, it looks kind of impossible to be honest with you. But I can’t help but think maybe God has a hand in all of this. I mean, maybe He, I don’t know, set this up or something so I could get Jake hooked up with someone who can help him, or maybe I’m supposed to help him. I don’t know. I’m really confused right now and trying to figure out what to do next.” She caught the woman’s look. “Sorry. I’m rambling.”

“No. No. That’s quite all right.” A moment and Mrs. McLaughlin stood. She stepped over to the window and turned to lean there. “I remember those days very well.”

Puzzled, Liz tilted her head. “What? What days?”

A moment and Mrs. McLaughlin’s gaze fell to the tiles at her feet. “My son was also dyslexic. I was a teacher at the time. An English teacher. I would read the wallpaper on the wall if someone would let me. When he got into kindergarten and we first started seeing the signs, I was bound and determined this kid was going to read. And he did... to begin with. Okay, so I found out later he was memorizing everything, but he could tell me every word on the page, so I thought he was reading.

“First grade it got a little worse. Second grade was worse still. I was teaching on the high school level, but I could tell Michael just wasn’t getting it. He would spend hours on his homework. He never wanted me to help him. And his grades just kept getting worse and worse and worse and worse. I’ve never felt so helpless in my life.” She smiled a smile meant to stop the tears, and Liz knew that feeling very, very well.

“So when he was in third grade and a year and a half behind the other kids, I finally pulled him out and decided I would teach him on my own.” She laughed softly. “That proved to be harder than I ever would have guessed. We spent a lot of hours at that kitchen table, him trying to read, me trying to be patient with him trying to read. I was at a complete loss as to what to do, so I started researching it— what would cause a kid who was obviously intelligent to not be able to read. I asked my colleagues. I asked anyone and everyone I could think of.

“And then one day a friend of mine said her child was having the same problems, and a teacher had mentioned that it might be dyslexia. Now that was back in the day when no one had ever heard of dyslexia, but I latched onto that word like a hungry dog on the last bone. I went to the library, got every book— all two of them. I went to every meeting I could find, and then I stumbled upon the decoding system we use here. I started working with Michael just like you saw Charlie do the other day, and lights came on. Not a lot and not real fast, but finally, this was the answer we’d been looking for. Michael owns his own computer business now. He loves those things. We call him the computer whisperer.” She laughed again. “But I think back now and wonder where he would’ve ended up if we hadn’t gotten him the help he needed.”

“How hard is it to learn to do this, to teach it?”

“It’s not hard, but it does take some time.”

“And how long does it take to help someone?” She may have asked all the questions before, but now they were personal.

“It depends on the person— how open they are, how severe the dyslexia is, and how much they are willing to work.”

“If... if someone was going to come in to the Literacy Center, how much would it cost them?”

“Our center is free. It’s something the college does as an outreach to the community.”

“And how... how long would a person who comes in work? An hour? Two hours? Like a couple times a week?”

“We try to work around a person’s schedule as long as their schedule allows them to be here during our office hours.”

Liz nodded, taking it all in, and then her thoughts turned from him to herself. “And if someone wanted to train, to learn how to do what you do, how does that work?”

“Well, we train on an on-going basis. We team you up with one of our team-teachers for a full program. Then you teach for a full-program with a mentor. Then you are tested, and if you pass, you become a full teacher in the program.”

“How long does that take?”

“Anywhere from three months to a year.”

“And the teachers are... paid?”

“We have some volunteers and some parents who come in to learn the methods, but yes, the others are paid.”

Suddenly waiting until January didn’t sound like such a great idea. She wanted to start now. As in this minute. Or yesterday if possible. “Can I... watch someone again? I really think I’d like to sign up.”

“Go watch again today, and if you’re still interested, tomorrow we’ll talk.”

“And then I went and I watched, and it’s so cool what they do.” Liz couldn’t talk fast enough to get it all out during her break at The Grind. Why did it have to be so short? “I watched two of them today, and they were doing closed and open syllables. I mean, I never knew there were such a thing. I never thought about it, you know. But there it was. This is how Mr. Webster designed our spelling system and how and why. All of it. Right there.”

Jake sat, watching her and listening. “So, you’re going to start working there then?”

She had to exhale that one down slowly because leaving The Grind was going to be hard. She had been here for three whole years, but yes, she was moving on now. And she was excited about it— all the way up until she thought about actually leaving. “Yeah. I gave Mia my two-week notice earlier tonight.”

“Ah. Is that why she’s been sending daggers my direction all night?” Jake laughed and sat back in the chair.

“She has not.”

He shot her a half-grin. “Don’t worry about it. I’m used to it by now.” The smile fell from his face as he straightened and then leaned forward on the table. “I think it’s great that you are so excited...”

She heard it without him even saying it. “But...?”

His gaze was soft and sad when it came up to meet hers. “Just do this for you, okay? Not for me. I mean, I’d love to think everything was going to work out, that they were going to just work a miracle on me, and life would be peaches. But I’ve been living with this my whole life, and I’ve tried a lot of things, and I know what it’s like to get your hopes up and have them crumble underneath you. I know what it’s like to think, ‘This is finally going to work this time’ and then it doesn’t. I just don’t want you to make a major life commitment like this and then realize in a month or two down the road that you did it to help me, and then hate me for it because it doesn’t work.”

Liz heard him. She really did. Slowly, carefully, she leaned toward him and put her hands on top of his. Her eyes captured his and held. “As much as I care about you, and I do, this is not about you. Yes, I’m excited that maybe because of what I’m learning I can help. But the truth is, I would be excited about this whether you were here or not. You being here is just a great bonus.”

“Liz!” Mia called from the register and tapped her watch.

Turning, Liz nodded at her friend and then looked back at him. “Will you stay to walk me home?”

“Hey, what else have I got to do, right?”

When the last customer left, Jake hung back in the shadows afraid of meeting Mia the She Demon as he waited for Liz. Seeing the joy in her eyes earlier had lifted his heart. At least things were working out for her. He on the other hand was tired of fighting with the hope that was trying to take up residence in his heart. It was hopeless for him. Even if what she said was true, this was a part of him. A defect. One that couldn’t be cured with some flashcards. If that had worked, his mother would have succeeded long before now.

“Ready?” She came out from the back in her street clothes with no apron.

“Guess so.”

She called her good-bye to Mia, and they stepped out into the brisk New-York-in-late- November air. They walked all the way to the corner and halfway down the next block before either of them spoke.

“So,” she finally said, “you’re awful quiet tonight.”

“Tired.” He fought off the yawn which wasn’t fake.

“Yeah. It’s been a long day.”

Wordlessly, they walked another half a block.

“Are you mad at me?” she asked, and his gaze swung to her in surprise.

“No. Why would I be mad at you?”

“It’s just this whole dyslexia thing. I mean I want to help, but I don’t want to push you into something you’re not ready for.”

Jake took three steps and exhaled hard. “You know, it’s like I said. I just don’t want you to get your hopes up, to think this is going to go away, that you’re going to save me and we’re going to ride off into the sunset and live all happily ever after.”

She nodded. “So you don’t want to ride off into the sunset with me?” Hurt screamed through her words, and he realized with a snap how she had taken that.

“What? No. Liz. No. Come on. That’s not what I meant. I mean, I’d love nothing more than to ride off into the sunset with you. Are you kidding me? I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I thank God every day for you, and I was thanking Him before I even really knew Who I was talking to.”

Her gaze jerked over to him suspiciously.

“Seriously. I was, and I still do. It’s just... It’s just I don’t want to let you down. Been there. Done that. Got 26 T-shirts wrinkled in the bottom of my closet to prove it.” He let out a long breath that smoked as it left him in the chilly night air. “Look, the truth is, I wanted to be the guy on the white horse that swooped in and swept you off your feet. I wanted to be the hero, you know. The one who can brave any disaster, conquer any foe, wrestle the world and win. But the truth of the matter is... I can’t do any of those things. I’m just a guy who lives paycheck-to-paycheck. I live in a two-room apartment and survive on Ramen noodles half the time.”

“But,” she broke in to protest.

Jake jerked his hands up. “No. Let me finish.”

A moment and she nodded. “Okay.”

“I don’t want to be your fix-it up property. I don’t want you to get into this thing thinking that with just a little more help, I could be something really great because maybe this is all I’m ever going to be. And you’re going to have to be okay with that whether any of this other stuff works or not.”

As she walked next to him, listening, Liz had to admit he was right. It wasn’t fair to him for her to have a relationship with his potential. It had to be a relationship with him— the real him— flaws and all. “Okay,” she finally said. “Can I talk now?”

He laughed softly and rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

She bit back the smile at his tone. “This is the way I see it. I didn’t fall in love with you because of the dyslexia or in spite of it. I fell in love with you because you’re an awesome guy. Sure there are some things I would change like the fact that you can’t climb stairs to save your life, and I’ll probably never get higher than three-feet off the ground when you’re around.”

“Two feet,” he corrected.

“Two feet,” she agreed. “But that’s not what I care about. What I care about is you. Jake McCoy. The guy who is quirky and fun to be around. The guy who wants to watch every, single line of the credits before he leaves the theatre. The guy who thinks tuna casserole and pumpkin pie is a good combination.” She shook her head. “I know this sounds crazy, but I love being with you. I do. I love who I am with you. I love going places, and seeing things that on my own I would never have had the guts to do. The truth is, flaws or not, I want to see the world with you. I want to come home every night and cook with you even if it is just grilled cheese sandwiches.

“I didn’t plan this. I didn’t even see it coming. And to tell you the truth, I think if I’d have seen it coming, I might have run the other way— not because of you but because of me. But then, all of a sudden, here you were, and now, I can’t imagine being in life without you being... well here. With me.”