A Mother For His Twins. Jill Weatherholt
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to thank you for agreeing to teach Jordan. He’s really excited.”
A smile parted her lips. “He’s a sweet boy, Nick. He’ll do well with lessons. He’s the perfect student—eager to learn.”
“The piano is special to him for many reasons, so thanks.” He started to get up from the table, but then slid back into the chair. “For what it’s worth, I wanted to call you after my family left. You might not believe me, but it’s the truth. My father didn’t want me to have any contact with friends from Whispering Slopes. It’s a long story and one I hope to share with you, but he did it to protect my mother. I wrote to you. But when you didn’t answer, I assumed you were too upset with me and had moved on. Years later, I learned from my father that he’d intercepted all of my letters from the mailbox, so they were never delivered to you.”
Joy slid her notebook into her bag. “I can’t talk about this here, Nick. Please, let’s forget everything that happened in the past. It will make things much easier.”
The pain in her eyes was more than he could bear. “Will it? Do you really think pretending we don’t have a history will make things right again?” He ran his hand down the side of his cleanly shaven face.
“No, but if we’re going to maintain our professionalism, I don’t think we have a choice.” She stood from her chair and reached for her bag. “Oh, I almost forgot. Rehearsal will begin tomorrow afternoon. We’ll practice on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”
His left brow arched. “What are we rehearsing?”
“Didn’t Mr. Jacobson talk with you earlier?”
Nick shook his head. “I haven’t seen him this morning.”
“He wants the first-and second-grade classes to perform a play together for the school’s talent week—Little Red Riding Hood.” She turned on her heel and glided out the door as a soft floral fragrance trailed behind her.
Nick took note of the time and headed to his table to grab his things. A play—with her class? Unbelievable. It was as though God was doing everything in His power to throw them together. Had He orchestrated this second chance for Nick and Joy?
Tuesday afternoon, Joy sat in the third row of the school’s auditorium. The students had been released from school and those participating in the play were outside enjoying a brief recess with the teaching assistants before rehearsal. Earlier in the day, she’d received an email from Nick requesting they meet privately before the first rehearsal. Her stomach fluttered as she wondered what he wanted to talk about. Of course, in her heart she knew. The past. Something she’d like to bury deep inside the earth’s core. Until his return to Whispering Slopes, she’d done a pretty good job at covering up her secret, but that hadn’t kept it from festering like a cut that wouldn’t heal.
Decisions have consequences. Growing up, that was what her grandmother always told her. Her decision the night she waited for Nick by the pond had forever changed her as a person. How could she ever share this with Nick?
The squeak of the door from the back of the room announced his arrival. She swallowed hard and turned. He strolled down the aisle of the auditorium dressed in khaki relaxed-fit pants and a red pullover sweater. That was always his color. It looked great with his close-cut dark hair. She pushed out of the wooden chair and braced herself.
“Thanks for meeting me.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Since we’re going to be working so closely together on the play, I thought it would be a good idea to clear the air.”
“That’s an interesting metaphor. From what I recall of the night, you didn’t show up. There’s no misunderstanding in that.”
“You’re right.” He motioned toward the chairs. “Can we sit down and talk?”
She sounded defensive—she knew that—but what choice did she have? If she let down her guard, he’d find out everything. She couldn’t allow that to happen. “I’m listening.”
Nick leaned back in the chair and crossed his right leg over his left knee. “Do you remember when my mother fell down the stairs and injured her back?” he asked with his hands clasped together.
Joy’s thoughts drifted to that late autumn afternoon. The two of them had been studying at the dining room table when they heard a thumping sound and then cries for help. They’d raced into the foyer and had discovered his mother at the bottom of the stairs, the contents of the laundry basket strewn all over the pinewood floor. She couldn’t move.
“Yes, I remember. She went to the hospital for several weeks. Didn’t she have two or three surgeries?”
“Yes, three.” He nodded. “Unfortunately, the surgeries didn’t give her any relief from the excruciating pain she lived with on a daily basis.”
Last year, while lifting some heavy boxes in her classroom, Joy had strained her back. The pain she’d experienced lasted for several days. She couldn’t imagine the ongoing pain Mrs. Capello must have dealt with. “That’s terrible... I had no idea.”
“No one really did. She stayed isolated in her room for months. Although she was the one in tremendous pain, it also took a heavy toll on my father and their marriage.”
“I’m sure it was hard on everyone...including yourself.”
Nick nodded. “Her doctor kept prescribing higher doses of pain medications. The more she took, the more she needed. One night, I was in bed and I heard her crying through the wall. My father had been out of town on business, so I got up to check on her. I’ll never forget the look of despair blanketing her face.” He paused and raked his hand across the back of his neck. “When I asked her if she needed anything she told me she wanted it all to end.”
Her stomach twisted. Mrs. Capello was such a sweet and loving woman. She’d opened her home to Joy and treated her like a daughter. Joy had grown up without a mother of her own, and the woman’s kindness had always meant so much to her.
“I’m so sorry, Nick. I wish you’d told me how bad things were.”
“I almost did—a couple of times. But in a way, spending time with you was an escape from the trouble at home. I wanted to keep it that way and not bring my problems into our relationship.”
“Yes, but healthy relationships involve sharing problems with each other.” Of course, she could never reveal the events that occurred after he’d left.
He leaned forward and turned toward her. “Believe me, that’s a lesson I’ve learned much too late in life.”
Joy’s eyebrows arched. It sounded as though there was more about his past she didn’t know—just like he didn’t know about her own. Perhaps that was all for the best.
“Anyway, that’s the reason why he moved us—to protect my mother. The abuse of painkillers got more out of control and she’d threatened to hurt herself several times. My father reached out to a friend of his from college who worked as an addiction specialist practicing in Chicago. He offered to accept my mother into a new study program. It started the following week. We left on a Friday night and she was admitted on Monday. She stayed at the facility for six months.”
How could she be upset? His father had loved his mother and had no other options. Still, Nick never came back for her—the wound was still raw.
He reached for her hand. “Once I found out the letters had never been sent, it was too late. My circumstances had changed.”
All she could do was nod and pull her hand away. Let him talk, but keep your distance. She couldn’t allow herself to get close to him again. He was back to steal her dream. Besides, everything had changed and she’d never want him to know that she wasn’t like most women.
“My