Playing by Heart (19 page)

My students entered the room with their usual clatter, bringing me back to life as Miss Bowman instead of Fruity Lu. The first thing I noticed was Nannie. She slouched into a desk near the back, arms crossed over her chest. The other girls glanced her way, but none spoke to her. Nannie didn't look at them. Her stare was fixed on something far beyond the classroom walls.

Had there been a rift between the girls? Over what? My stomach churned as we walked through the mathematical concepts, Bess and Foxy breaking into smiles of comprehension, Gracie and Rowena wrinkling their noses when they didn't understand. When I dismissed them, Nannie bolted for the door like one of Don's unbroken colts.

I pulled Rowena back from the others. “What's wrong with Nannie?”

Rowena rolled her eyes. “Blaze. He says he's quitting school and enlisting.”

I shot a glance to the doorway where she'd disappeared. No wonder the girl was upset. Chet would be, too, when he found out. I lowered my voice. “Who else knows about this?”

Rowena shrugged. “No one, I don't think. We only know because Bill overheard Nannie and Blaze arguing about it. Can I go now?”

“Yes. Thank you, Rowena.”

She scurried away, then turned back, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “You won't tell anyone, will you? Nannie doesn't even know we heard.”

I couldn't promise her that. This was too important. I had to do what I deemed best for both Nannie and Blaze. “You can trust me.”

I held my breath, hoping that would satisfy.

It did. Rowena grinned and flounced away.

Blaze, quitting school? I shoved my papers into my satchel. Chet might live and breathe basketball, but I knew Blaze's graduation held just as high a place in his heart.

C
HET

Rubbing the back of my neck, I paced my empty classroom. I had things to do before basketball practice, but I couldn't seem to settle into any of them. Lula continued to distract me, to haunt my dreams, even after I'd caught her in another man's arms. I needed to put her out of my mind, but my heart refused to cooperate.

The door clicked open. I spun around.

Lula.

My palms turned slick. I stumbled over my own feet trying to get to her, welcome her in.

She clasped her hands at her waist, her eyes stretching wide. “It's Blaze.”

I tensed, suddenly rooted to the ground. “What about him?”

She wet her lips, took a deep breath. “He's quitting school to enlist. I thought you should know.”

Enlist? Surely she was wrong. Surely—

She turned as if to leave. In a rush of adrenaline, I charged ahead, barricaded my body between her and the door.

She pulled up, stepped backward. I stopped close enough to her to speak quietly, far enough away to keep her from diverting my attention from Blaze. “How do you know this?”

Her gaze slid to the floor. “Nannie was upset during our tutoring today. One of the other girls told me they overhead Nannie and Blaze arguing about his decision.”

I dropped into the closest desk, holding my head in my hands. “I told him not to. I asked him to be patient.”

“I'm sorry.” The gentle touch of her hand on my shoulder drew my head up. She no longer stood stiff and aloof. More like uncertain and tremulous. Over being here with me or the news about Blaze?

I groaned. “I want him to graduate. To know that he isn't stupid or worthless like his father tells him. When he has that diploma, he'll have a foundation no one can ever take away from him. He'll have a shot at a better life.”

Lula pressed a hand to her mouth, lines appearing on her forehead and around her eyes as if I'd said something that upset her. But I had no idea what.

I stood, shoved my hands into the deep pockets of my trousers. “Thank you for letting me know. I'll . . . figure something out.”

“You're welcome,” she whispered. Then she gave me one of her rare smiles. I reached for the desk, dizzy at the sight. “I thought you should know.” She stepped toward the door again.

“Wait,” I said.

She bit her lip. I closed the gap between us.

“Will you help me? With Blaze?”

“Help you? How?”

“If you and I and Nannie all talk to Blaze together, maybe we can make him see reason.”

A tiny frown tugged at the corner of her mouth, but she nodded.

“You get Nannie and meet Blaze and me after the boys' practice. In the gym. Will you do that?”

“All right.” Her frown deepened. “But we'll need to give him another option to consider, not just ‘Don't do it.'”

I grinned. A smart girl, and not just in the classroom. I glanced at my wristwatch. “I'll think of something.”

By the time the boys' practice ended this evening, I needed a foolproof plan to keep Blaze in school.

“Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!” My voice bounced off the gym walls as the boys sprinted up and down the court. Even if Lula hadn't warned me about Blaze, I would have suspected a problem. He missed four shots I knew he could make in his sleep. He didn't get after the other boys to hustle. He refused to look me in the eye.

I walked the length of the court, praying with every step, as the boys ran again, up and back. Up and back. I'd settled on an idea. One I believed came straight from God. But would Blaze go along with the plan?

I blew my whistle. The slap of shoes on hardwood stopped, but the heavy breathing didn't. I called them into a huddle as they gulped air.

“Four more games. We have to win every single one to beat the school board's challenge, so we need to focus. Here.” I tapped a finger on my temple and stared right at Blaze. He studied the ground. “Y'all get on home now.”

The boys headed for the locker room.

“Blaze, I'd like you to stay behind for a few minutes, after you get dressed.”

His head shot up, eyes wary. “Why?”

“Just some things we need to discuss.”

He shuffled away. The other boys trickled out the door a few at a time until only Blaze remained. I paced in front of the small spectator area. The gymnasium door squealed open. Lula nudged a sullen-faced Nannie in ahead of her.

Nannie wrenched herself from Lula's grasp, rolled her eyes toward the sky, and plopped down on the bottom bench. Had she quarreled with Lula? We needed Nannie on our side, not working against us.

Lula motioned for me to walk with her to the opposite side of the gym. She glanced back at Nannie, keeping her voice low. “It's worse than we thought. Seems that now they've concocted a plan to get married before he leaves—for
both
of them to quit school!”

I itched to throttle the boy. It was one thing to compromise his own future. Quite another to involve a girl.

“We have to do something!” Lula's whisper rose in pitch.

“Obviously.”

She glared.

“Look, I have an idea. But only one. If we go into this together, maybe we can persuade them to put off their plans until June.”

She crossed her arms. “What are you thinking?”

Blaze sauntered out of the locker room, saw Nannie, and stopped. He turned toward Lula and me, his eyes accusing.

“Trust me,” I whispered to Lula.

We met Blaze at center court. “I thought it would be good for us all to talk.” With one hand on his shoulder, I steered him toward Nannie and pressed him to sit beside her. Lula stood next to me.

I cleared my throat and clasped my hands behind my back. “It has come to my attention—”

A tug on my sleeve. I tried to pull away. Lula stepped in front of me, facing Nannie and Blaze. “Why don't we all go to my house. I'll make us some cocoa and coffee.” She turned and slid a pleading look in my direction.

My neck lit on fire. Who did she think she was, taking over? I had this under control.

But then Nannie and Blaze glanced at each other. Nannie gave a slight nod. Blaze stood, fixed his gaze on Lula, and cut me out of the conversation altogether. “All right, Miss Bowman. We'll hear you out.”

L
ULA

While Nannie and Blaze figured out how to squeeze into Chet's two-seater car, I charged down the street, over two blocks, up another three. Breathless, I ran into the house, gasping Jewel's name. As quickly as I could, I explained the situation.

Jewel nodded, her mouth tight. “I'll bundle up the little ones and we'll pay a visit next door.”

“Thank you.”

“I'll be praying, too. For all of you.” The matchmaking shine I expected to appear in her eyes didn't. I pressed a kiss to her cheek before she waddled away, the children following like ducks behind her. Then I welcomed Nannie, Blaze, and Chet into the warm kitchen.

Fixing the coffee and cocoa gave me something to do—something besides congratulating myself that Nannie and Blaze looked less defensive sitting at the kitchen table than they did in the cavernous gymnasium. If only Chet didn't look so inflexible and authoritative. So much like my brother Don that I shuddered. Couldn't he see that a lecture would only stiffen
their resolve to do as they'd determined? If he wasn't careful, his manner would drive them straight to the justice of the peace and the army recruitment office.

I situated the drinks around the table, my heart pounding in my ears. I wished for a mathematical formula, some assurance of a correct resolution to this problem. But there wasn't one. So I prayed for calm, for wisdom.

Nannie's hands sought the warmth of her cup and lifted it to her mouth. Blaze didn't touch his. I waited in silence, knowing I'd tried Chet's patience when I'd suggested this change of venue.

Chet didn't speak first. Blaze did.

“I know you won't like it, Coach, but I'm eighteen now. I can go where I please, make my own decisions. And I've decided I can't stay with him anymore.” Blaze's fist connected with the table, punctuating the words. But his eyes had a fearful look, as if he expected retribution for even that small act of defiance.

Ignoring Blaze's outburst, Chet sipped his coffee. The tightness at the corners of his mouth gentled. My breath released, the thudding in my chest calming a bit. But my silent prayers became more fervent.
Please, God, let Blaze listen
to reason. Let him not rush out and get killed
and leave Nannie a teenaged widow.

Nannie covered Blaze's hand with her smaller one, her jaw set firm, her eyes challenging mine, almost as if she'd read my thoughts. “I love him, Miss Bowman. And he loves me.”

I lifted the cup to my lips, blew away the steam, and sipped before I answered. “I won't argue that with you. You are the only ones who can judge how you feel about one another. But you don't need to quit school. Even if Blaze were to—” I glanced at Chet—“leave, it doesn't mean you have to marry right this minute.”

Her round face looked so young and vulnerable, yet she didn't yield. Her fingers gripped Blaze's hand more tightly. “If he's going off to fight, I'd rather be left behind as his wife than his girlfriend.”

Blaze's mouth lifted, and his eyes cleared. My heart sank. Of course he wanted to marry Nannie right away. The poor boy needed to know someone cared. But this wasn't the answer.

Chet stared into his coffee. I wanted to poke him, force him to join the conversation. He'd said he had a plan. The time had come to put it forth. My foot jabbed in the direction of his leg but caught only air. I drummed my fingers on the table until I couldn't stand his silence. “Let's say you do as you intend. Blaze leaves. First for training camp, then to France. How would you survive if something happened to him over there, Nannie? What would you do with no education and maybe even a baby on the way?” My face burned, but it had to be said.

Nannie's chin tilted upward. “My family would help. And even if they didn't, I'd figure something out.”

My teeth ground into one another as I fought the urge to shake some sense into the girl. I turned my fury on Blaze instead. “Blaze, can't you see—”

Chet's hand clamped around my forearm, manly fingers crushing the fabric of my sleeve. And for some reason, I turned almost giddy. At least until Chet's smooth voice sobered me again.

“Has your pa gone back on his agreement? The one you made in the presence of Principal Gray?”

Blaze's head tipped forward, but just barely. I ached for his pain, for the broken relationship with his father, for his shame in his father's lack of integrity.

“Tell me what happened, Blaze.”

The boy's eyes met Chet's. “He said we had to break up the back forty, even though it's near frozen solid now.” He cleared his throat, looked away. “I told him I'd do it Saturday, when I didn't have school. Or basketball. Then he—”

Blaze pulled his hand from Nannie's. Her eyes and mouth rounded. She blinked back tears. Blaze sucked in a long breath. “He swung at me. I put up an arm to shield my face, but before I knew it, I'd—” His eyes begged Chet not to make him continue.

Chet cleared his throat. “I understand your need to get away. I really do. But I don't think enlisting right now is the answer. I think you'll regret giving up on high school when you are so close to the end. Wait four more months. Get your diploma. Then if you still want to, you can sign up to fight.”

Blaze shoved his chair back and bolted to his feet. “I can't live one more day with that man. You don't know how he is. I'm afraid next time—” He looked down at his fist, clenching and releasing. We knew what he feared. He didn't have to speak it.

Chet rose. “Just hear me out, son.”

Blaze looked at Nannie. She bit her lip and nodded, eyes wide and frightened. Blaze corralled his chair and sat again, his expression as hard as the ground outside. I wished he could understand how much Chet cared—how much we both cared. We wanted good things for them.

Chet continued, “You can be stubborn about this—do it your way—or you can think about what's really best for you and for Nannie. Act on your convictions. Act like a man instead of imitating the mule you walk behind for your pa.”

My body went as rigid as a newly starched shirt. Had someone said those words to me, I'd have dug in like those boys in France, determined never to give ground. But Chet didn't stop.
He plowed ahead with a determination that would have made Blaze's father take note.

“If you just react to your father, he wins. Think about it. If we went into each game only responding to the other team's plays or to their defensive scheme, we wouldn't often succeed. Instead, we have a strategy. An offense. And we see it through no matter how the other team tries to stop us. Right?”

My eyes darted among Blaze and Nannie and Chet. Blaze nodded.

“I'm offering you a plan, Blaze. An offense. Finish school. Then enlist. Don't get flustered by the defense.” Chet glanced at Nannie. “I won't even pretend to know what to advise you about the other, except to wait until you are both graduated. I imagine that's what your family would advise, as well, right, Nannie?”

Pink splashed across the girl's cheeks. She stared at the table. Blaze still hadn't consented to Chet's plan, but I felt Nannie's resolve crumble. Maybe Chet did, too, for he rushed into the gap.

“What if you only had to deal with school and basketball, not your father? Then could you make it to graduation before enlisting?”

Blaze's eyes crinkled at the edges, and his jaw ticked. When he answered, his voice croaked with emotion. “How? How could I do that?”

Chet's hands clamped down on the back of his chair. “What about your uncle Sal? Could you stay with him? I'd be willing to talk to him—them, explain how things stand.”

Some amusement passed between them. Something neither Nannie nor I understood. But it lightened the mood. And gave me hope.

“Come with me. We'll drive out to Sal's after supper. If for
some reason that option won't work, you can stay at my house. We'll talk to your pa together.”

Blaze looked at Nannie for a long moment. An entire conversation seemed to pass wordlessly between them. Then Blaze spoke, careful and slow. “I'm still not sayin' I'll stay until graduation, but I'll talk to Uncle Sal tonight. On one condition.”

Every muscle in my body tensed, but Chet seemed to relax. “What's that?”

A slow grin curved Blaze's lips. “That I can walk Nannie home first.”

Chet laughed. “Go on, then. But Ma'll have supper on the table at six thirty, so you best hurry.”

“Yes, sir.” Blaze pulled out Nannie's chair. She pressed her cheek to mine before clutching Blaze's outstretched hand and following along after him.

As the front door banged shut, Chet lowered slowly into the chair. He sat unmoving, elbows on the table, hands almost covering his face. I gathered the cups, rinsed them, then leaned back against the sink and studied this man who defied all my judgments of him. His heart understood people in a way mine never had. And the beauty of his compassion rendered his pleasing face even more handsome in my eyes.

“You handled that perfectly.”

“I don't know how. I was terrified the whole time. I'm still afraid he'll run away from his troubles instead of face them.”

I picked up a towel, wiped the water that dripped like tears down the side of a cup. Chet's chair scraped the floor. I felt him draw near, glimpsed the tips of his shoes through my downturned lashes. He took the mug and towel from my hand and began to dry it.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“Hello? Anyone home?” Bo stuck his head in the kitchen. Chet retreated to the opposite side of the room.

“Is she here?” Bo asked.

I pointed. “Next door.”

“Thanks.” He disappeared.

Chet looked from me to the empty doorway, his forehead scrunched in confusion.

“He came for Jewel.” I turned and began to stack the clean dishes in the cupboard.

“For Jewel?” Chet's hands landed on my shoulders. He turned me to face him. I couldn't look up for fear of what I'd read in his eyes. For fear of what he'd read in mine.

“Could we try this again, Lula?” His voice felt like a caress.

“Try what?” Did I breathe the words or actually speak them? My gaze crept from the floor to his chest to his face.

“The Red Cross dinner is a week from Saturday night. Sit with me. Ma's in charge of the tables. I'll arrange it with her.” A grin tipped his lips, and my stomach fluttered. “And you can be sure I won't let you forget this time.”

A second chance. I'd be a fool to refuse.

Chet jogged to his automobile. I stood on the front porch, wringing my hands, the conduct rules for a teacher—most of which had to do, in one form or another, with not courting—ringing in my head. But the Red Cross dinner and dance was a community event. And patriotic. Surely there would be no cause for alarm in that. Especially if we sat at a table with his mother.

I wanted to ask Jewel's advice but feared that would only embolden all her matchmaking plans.

“Lula! Where is your coat?” Jewel scolded, coming across the yard, the clamor of the children behind her.

JC peered past me. “Was that Mr. Vaughn?”

I nodded, clenching my teeth to keep them from chattering.

“Get inside. You can talk to Lula there.” Jewel gave JC's behind a playful swat. He bounded up the steps but stopped at the door and held it open for his mother and me. Inside, I poked at the waning fire, trying to stir it to life.

“He didn't even stay to say hello?” JC dumped a log on the grate, dousing the tiny flame I'd coaxed to burn. I squeezed my eyes shut.

I shoved the log aside, blew on the embers. Fire licked at the dry wood and caught. I brushed off my hands, faced my nephew. “I'm sorry, JC. He had a lot on his mind tonight. But I'm sure you'll see him soon. Why don't you help me fix some pancakes for supper?”

“I wanna help,” Trula called out, bounding up beside me.

JC turned away.

“Not this time, Trula.” I took JC's hand. “I think JC is all the help I'll need.”

JC grinned as he raced into the kitchen. He just needed a bit of undivided attention. The kind a boy like JC was used to getting from a father like Davy.

Jewel smiled. “Everything turn out all right with those kids?”

“We'll see. I think things are good for now. Where's Bo?”

Jewel's cheeks turned rosy, and her eyes wouldn't meet mine. “He was in the area on army business and just dropped by for a quick hello.”

“Oh?”

“Aunt Lula, how many eggs do we need?” JC shouted from the kitchen.

“You'd better go see to him,” Jewel said, bending to retrieve the coat and mittens that Russell had discarded on the floor.

I waited to make sure the weight of her belly didn't topple her over—and to see if she had anything else to say. But her silence lingered. If she could keep the secrets of her heart about Bo, I decided to keep mine about Chet. For now.