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An Abundance of Blessings Page 7
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“You didn’t give me a chance to pray,” Jennifer poked her sister in the side.
“You can pray quietly.”
“I want to pray out loud.” Jennifer closed her eyes again and began to do just that. “Help Mommy and Daddy have fun and not be grumpy when they come back. And help Mommy not to make the trip too ’spensive like Daddy is worried about. Amen.”
Charlotte coughed to cover up the snicker that escaped.
“Are you okay, Grandma?” Madison asked.
Charlotte cleared her throat, then gave both girls a smile. “I’m fine. And I hope you have a good sleep.”
“And tomorrow we have to do schoolwork?” Madison said. This netted her another poke from Jennifer.
“Why did you have to say that?”
“I don’t think I would have forgotten, dears,” Charlotte said. She knew it would be the first question Anna would ask when she phoned. She had looked over the assignments and had wondered if they needed to do so much. Then she wondered if she would have enough time to do a proper job.
Well, she would just have to make time.
Charlotte bent over and kissed each girl on the forehead. “Now sleep tight and we’ll see you in the morning.”
“Good night, Grandma,” both girls chimed in.
Charlotte got up, looking down at her granddaughters, a wave of love washing over her.
They were such a blessing, she thought as she turned off the light. She had seen them grow up from tiny babies into these adorable little girls. She had experienced so many stages of their lives and would, Lord willing, experience so many more.
And as she walked down the hall toward Christopher’s room, the thought created a hitch of regret and loss. She had missed out on so many stages of Christopher, Emily, and Sam’s lives. Stages she would never be able to recapture.
She stopped herself. She had them now, and though the circumstances weren’t what she had envisioned, she knew that God was giving her another chance.
Christopher wasn’t in his room, nor was his cat, but Charlotte could hear the sound of water running in the bathroom.
On impulse she stopped at Emily’s room. The door was half open, but just to be on the safe side Charlotte knocked.
When she heard a muttered “Come in,” she did.
Emily slouched on her bed, her back curved in an awkward angle against the wall.
She was doing something with her cell phone, frowning at the screen, her mouth pinched as beeps emanated from the handset. Charlotte guessed she was trying to text message. Though Emily was making new friends here, she occasionally tried to keep up her contact with her old friends in San Diego.
Charlotte was about to say something when she caught sight of a pile of clothes on the floor.
The clothes Emily had been wearing to church.
“Did you change your mind about your outfit?” Charlotte asked.
This netted her a vague shrug.
“I thought it looked nice on you.”
Emily sighed and snapped her phone shut. “I looked stupid.”
Her sudden vehemence surprised Charlotte.
Emily tossed the phone aside, crossing her arms over her chest in a defensive gesture. “You could have told me that those clothes belonged to Nicole’s mom.”
“I didn’t know where they came from,” Charlotte said, still baffled about Emily’s anger.
“Nicole has had it in for me ever since the Christmas pageant,” Emily said, pushing away from the wall. “When she saw me wearing her mom’s old hand-me-downs she had a real good laugh. She’s going to tell her best friend, Lily Cunningham. Then it’s going to be all over the school tomorrow.” This was followed by a heavy sigh. “I can’t face her and her snooty friends.”
“Oh honey, I’m sorry. I truly didn’t know where they came from,” Charlotte said, feeling contrite. “We got so many boxes of clothes after you kids came that I couldn’t remember who had given me what. I just thanked them and put the boxes up in the attic. And then you kids were having such fun with them, I didn’t think it mattered who had them before.”
Emily picked up her cell phone and opened it, then snapped it closed again, then opened it. “If you weren’t going to use them, then why did you keep them? Why didn’t you throw them out? Bring them to the dump?”
“It’s not that easy in a place like Bedford.” As she had with her younger granddaughters, Charlotte perched on the edge of the bed. “I was so thankful for the support I received from the community I didn’t have the heart. I didn’t want to offend anyone by throwing them out.”
“How would they know if you did?”
“Honey, this is a small town, with a small dump. If I had taken those boxes, marked with our names on them, to the dump, whoever gave them to me would have seen. And they would have known what I did.”
Emily pulled in one corner of her lip as if considering this.
Charlotte put her hand on Emily’s arm. “I’m sorry, honey, if I caused you problems—”
“I thought I had found something different. Something no one else had,” Emily muttered, still toying with her cell phone. “Instead I was wearing something someone else threw out. Lousy hand-me-downs.”
The way she said the words, as if the very concept of wearing someone else’s clothes was distasteful to her, created a feeling of unease in Charlotte.
“I grew up wearing hand-me-downs,” Charlotte said, fingering a pleat in the quilt, feeling as if she had to defend her own childhood. And to find a way to gently remind Emily not to be too proud. “Not only hand-me-downs, but homemade clothes. Your mother did too.”
Emily didn’t reply, but the mention of her mother softened the harsh expression on her face.
“I sewed a lot of your mother’s clothes as well,” Charlotte continued. “It was a way of saving money at the time.”
“I thought you just made quilts on your sewing machine.”
Charlotte shook her head. “I made a lot of things. Shirts, dresses, skirts. I even used to sew Pete’s blue jeans until he could afford to buy his own.”
“You know how to make blue jeans? I thought they only came from a store.”
“Even those blue jeans were sewn by someone,” Charlotte said, giving her granddaughter a quick smile.
“I suppose.” Emily snapped her phone open, glanced at it, then closed it again. Her eyes shifted to the pile of clothes lying on the floor of her bedroom. “How do you start sewing clothes?”
“With patterns. Material. Thread. A sewing machine.”
“Is it hard to learn? Could you teach me?”
Charlotte paused to think a moment. “You know, I had thought about this awhile back but wasn’t sure you’d be interested. I’m game if you are.”
“If I knew how to sew, maybe I could make my own clothes. Could I like, design them and stuff?” Emily pushed herself away from the wall.
“I don’t know about that, but I’ve learned how to alter basic patterns. I suppose you could.”
The animated look on Emily’s face made Charlotte smile.
“I could make something no one else has. Something really different,” Emily said, her expression lighting up.
Charlotte thought Emily’s current wardrobe fit that description already.
“So, when can we start? Where can we get material? Do we have to get it at Aunt Rosemary’s shop? What kind of patterns are there? Do you still have your sewing machine?”
As Emily’s questions flew out, Charlotte’s mind flitted around, trying to keep up with Emily’s sudden enthusiasm.
“I can look at Aunt Rosemary’s shop and see what she has.”
“But I want to come along. I don’t want you to pick out—” Emily’s sentence petered out, as if she was hearing herself. “I’m sorry, Grandma. It’s just—”
“You want to pick out your own patterns. I understand. But you have never sewn before. We need to start with something simple.”
“Like what?”
“A skirt. Or
an apron.”
Emily laughed. “Sure, Grandma. Like I’m going to wear an apron.”
“You could make one for me.”
“I suppose that would be okay.” Emily settled back on the bed, and Charlotte was gratified to see that her granddaughter looked much happier now than she had a few minutes ago.
“We could check out Aunt Rosemary’s shop one day after school.”
“Sounds good.”
“Okay. We’ll make some more plans tomorrow.”
Emily’s despondent expression returned. “Are you sure I have to go to school tomorrow? I really don’t want to see Nicole. She’s a nasty piece of work. She’ll tell everyone in the school what I did today.”
“You’ll have to face her sooner or later. And it shouldn’t matter what she says. You just have to act confident, like her opinion doesn’t matter.”
“I just wish I could be more like Ashley sometimes,” Emily said, putting her cell phone on the nightstand beside her bed.
Charlotte was pleased to hear that. Ashley was a good influence and Charlotte was encouraged that her granddaughter wanted to emulate her friend.
Charlotte bent over and brushed a light kiss over her forehead. “You’ll be fine. Just don’t let Nicole get to you. Maybe you could pray for her. Sometimes that helps you see a person in a new light.”
Emily’s skeptical look was more eloquent than anything she could have said.
Charlotte gave her granddaughter another smile, then got up from the bed.
“Have a good sleep, Emily. Don’t forget to say your prayers.”
But Emily’s vague nod told Charlotte this might not happen.
Guess it’s up to me, Lord, Charlotte thought as she closed the door. As she walked down the stairs she prayed for her granddaughter. Prayed that some day the spiritual lessons she and Bob tried to instill in them would sink in.
Chapter Eight
Sam, Sam. Do you have a few minutes?” Sam cringed as Miss Grienke’s nasal voice carried across the school parking lot.
He’d been surprised to see her and Adam in church yesterday. That was a first, because he’d never seen Miss Grienke come before.
But she had found him this morning and this time she had her brother with her.
His friends turned at the sound and Jake elbowed him. “Hey, man, what does Miss G want you for?”
Sam deflected the question with a shrug, though he knew exactly what she wanted.
“Who’s the dude with her?” Paul asked, shoving his hands farther into the pockets of his leather coat.
“I think that’s her brother. The new guy that’s starting in our school today.”
“Miss G has a family?” Jake sounded surprised.
“Guess so,” Sam said, wishing he could relax.
“Sam, I’m so glad I caught you and your friends.” Miss Grienke was actually smiling, something she didn’t usually do. She gestured to her brother. “I wanted to introduce you to Adam.”
Sam felt an all too familiar tension grab him around his stomach as he glanced from his friends to Adam. What was he supposed to do? He could see his friends looking this guy over, measuring and weighing him and he wanted to do the same. Wanted to be standing back, waiting to see if he should let this guy into his space.
But Miss Grienke stared at him like he was supposed to do something.
“Hey, Adam,” Sam said, though he figured the other guys should have said something first. This was their school and their place and he was still trying to settle into it.
And if he shifted too far over to Adam, the new guy’s side, well, he stood to lose the little bit of connection he’d gained with the guys.
“Hey.” Adam jerked his chin in a gesture that could be either hello or I don’t care.
“This is Jake,” Sam said, gesturing to the tall, lanky fellow on his right, then to the shorter, stockier guy. “And Paul.”
They both gave Adam a slow nod and Sam could see they were eyeing him over much as they had done to him when he first came.
“How’s your Uncle Pete?” Miss Grienke asked Sam, her voice sounding hopeful.
“He’s okay.”
“Tell him I said hello.”
Sam felt like groaning. He could just imagine what Paul and Jake would do with that. But he couldn’t very well ignore her. “Sure. I’ll do that.”
Miss Grienke gave him another smile. “Well, I’ll be going. You’re going to be okay?” she asked Adam.
He nodded and Miss Grienke turned around and walked away.
“So, what do you guys do around here for fun?” Adam asked, twisting the toe of his sneaker in the snow as he looked around.
His shoes were Vans. Was he a skateboarder or did he just like to dress like one?
But no one replied to Adam’s question.
“Skateboard in the summer, try to stay warm in the winter,” Sam put in, his concern over the situation growing. The guys weren’t saying anything.
“Any of you snowboard?”
Jake lifted his head just a bit, as if surprised that someone like Adam even knew anything about the sport. Paul didn’t even reply. Sam knew they both enjoyed snowboarding, but weren’t playing along.
“How about soccer?” Adam asked.
Paul gave Sam a sideways glance. “Sam’s the guy who’s wanting soccer in the school. He wants to be the next Beckham.” He poked Jake. “Let’s go.”
They started to walk away and Sam glanced from Adam to his friends, feeling torn. For a split second he felt bad for Adam. He knew what it was like to start over in a new school. How hard it was.
But he was still working on finding his place in this school himself. He couldn’t afford to lose his friends. Sam knew he had to take care of himself. And taking care of himself meant spending as much time with Paul and Jake as he could.
So he gave Adam a quick wave and turned to catch up to Jake and Paul, and almost ran into Dale Kaffleck.
“Hey, Sam,” Dale said, pushing his ball cap back on his head. “How did you do on your English test? Must help that your uncle is kind of on the ins with Miss Simons?”
Dale was the kind of guy who was always losing friends and making new ones. Mostly because he could get a bit annoying. And lately Dale had been trying to latch onto Sam. As he looked at the guy, Sam had an idea of how to get rid of two obligations at once.
“Hey, Dale, did you meet Adam? Miss Grienke’s brother?” Sam grabbed Dale by the arm and almost pulled him over to where Adam still stood watching Sam with a half smile that wasn’t too friendly.
Dale glanced from Sam to Adam, as if thankful for the recognition. Sam felt a bit guilty, but pressed on. “Dale, this is Adam Grienke, Adam, Dale Kaffleck.”
Adam said hi, but the look he gave Sam told him that Adam knew exactly what he was doing.
“Gotta run,” Sam said, poking his thumb over his shoulder at Jake and Paul. “My friends are waiting for me.”
And just as he figured would happen, Dale was grinning at Adam, peppering him with questions about where he came from, what kind of interests he had.
Dale was a good enough guy. Not the coolest, but he’d be able to keep Adam busy. And maybe he’d latch onto Adam instead of him.
Sam pulled open the doors of the school and headed down the hallway to his first class. He was about to go inside when he heard someone call his name.
He turned. Well, well, wasn’t he Mr. Popular today. First Miss Grienke wanted to talk to him, now Miss Simons.
He tried to stifle his frustration, wondering what Miss Simons wanted from him this time. He’d been handing in all his assignments, even the lame ones on poetry.
“I’m so glad I caught you,” Miss Simons said, giving him a big smile. Her eyes crinkled at the corners, and as she spoke, she brushed her long, dark hair back from her face. “I wanted to let you know that you did a terrific job on your assignment.”
Sam shuffled his feet; his only reply a nod of his head as he felt first relief, then a feeling of suspic
ion. Miss Simons could have told him this after her class later on today.
She probably wanted something else and he had an idea it had something to do with Uncle Pete. She and his uncle were pretty cozy over Christmas but since then, Uncle Pete never talked about her. Whenever someone mentioned her name, like Emily did the other night, he got ticked.
And Miss Grienke had been asking after Pete.
Miss Simons fiddled with the zipper on her purse, trying to look casual. “So, how are things going with you and your family?”
“Yeah. It’s coming.”
“Pete said things are quiet on the farm these days.”
“Yeah.” This was a major hint and his chance to keep her up to speed on what Uncle Pete was doing.
But he didn’t think she wanted to know that his uncle headed out every night to spend time with his friend, Brad, and not her.
He fidgeted, glancing at the clock hanging out in the hallway. Five more minutes till class.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t keep you. I just wanted to let you know about your assignment.” As Miss Simons glanced away, Sam saw her blush a little.
Sam was about to thank her when Adam slouched past, Dale chattering away to him. Adam had his hands shoved deep into his pockets and when he passed he gave Sam a mocking grin.
“Thanks for introducing me to Dale,” he said.
Was he being sarcastic? Sam wasn’t sure, but he stifled his own guilt and replied with a vague shrug.
“Is that Miss Grienke’s brother?” Miss Simons was asking as Adam walked into the nearest classroom, Dale still trailing him.
“Yeah. Adam.” Sam didn’t want to talk to Miss Simons about Miss Grienke. He remembered how impressed Miss Grienke was with Uncle Pete when they pulled her out of the ditch. He was pretty sure the cake Pete brought to supper a couple nights later came from Miss Grienke.
“We’ll see you later, Sam.” Miss Simons was about to leave when, over her shoulder, Sam saw Miss Grienke coming down the hall, waving an envelope at him.