Chapter 4
By the time Amanda got up the next day, Connor had already left for the fire station.
She pushed back the bedroom curtain. The snow had stopped and gray clouds weighted the sky.
Even a quick peek at the mural in the nursery couldn’t lift her spirits.
Maybe Connor was right. Maybe she should call in sick.
But the students were usually off the wall before a long break.
Her sophomores were the worst of all. How would a substitute ever handle them?
Shivering after a brisk shower, she pulled on her green sweater. But while she sipped her coffee, an idea bloomed. Plowing through their shelves, Amanda finally found the large red book. Her personal Christmas favorite might make the day bearable.
Her stomach wouldn’t allow oatmeal. The coffee had been more than enough. Elbows on the kitchen counter, she played Angie’s message multiple times. Her ears strained to pick up meaning in the girl’s words or the inflection of her voice.
Crazy making. And she did not need more crazy right now.
Grabbing her briefcase, she headed out to her car.
Her boots crunched on the packed snow and she sucked in a frigid breath that did nothing to warm her heart.
She’d learned to deal with disappointment by approaching it head on.
Didn’t matter how they buffered the news, it still hurt. Over the years, she’d heard it all.
Always another chance.
Maybe next time.
Caught in traffic on the Eisenhower, Amanda was tempted to keep driving. Go right downtown and spend the day looking at the Christmas lights, not ride herd on her students. Store windows would be full of Santa’s workshop, smiling elves and trains that tooted as they rounded the track.
Sometimes being responsible sucked. She exited the Eisenhower and headed toward school. At least she was armed with the book.
That morning students slunk into her classroom, dragging their heels.
They didn’t want to be here and neither did she.
Good kids, they were rough around the edges and most weren’t college bound.
For some, Christmas might just be another day.
On the near west side of Chicago where she taught, parents were often out of work.
Many homes were anchored by a single mother or grandmother barely making ends meet with government aid. The bell rang and class began.
“I have a surprise for you today.” She dragged over the stool and perched. Then she opened the book.
“Oh, man. A book? That is so lame,” Tyrone Gilby groaned. The others seemed to agree.
“Shut up.” Clarice whipped around from her front row seat and gave them the eye. “It’s a story, you dumbass. I like to listen to stories.”
They settled down. She turned to page one.
The Best Christmas Pageant Ever had been one of Amanda’s favorite Christmas stories growing up. The reading level was grade school, which was just about right for most of this group. If anyone recognized the cover, no one said anything.
Amanda began, spinning the story of a family of children far worse than anything her own students could dream up. The class fell silent. Then they laughed. Tyrone lounged back, hands behind his head. “Man, do you believe this? This family’s bad. Worse than mine.”
Amanda let him grandstand. Helped stretch the book until the end of class. They had a few minutes for discussion.
“Those kids were bad ass,” Tyrone said, eyes glowing. “My kind of peeps.”
“What did they know? They doing the best they can.” Clarice tossed her dark braids.
“You gonna bring another story tomorrow and read to us again?” Westin asked from the back.
“You bet.” She had a copy of The Charlie Brown Christmas somewhere.
The bell rang.
“See you tomorrow,” Amanda called out as they filed from the room.
One more day. Sissy Hendricks was going to take over her class during the maternity leave.
Amanda already had everything ready, her lesson plan book in the top drawer.
For just a second, things seemed right with the world.
The doubts lurking in the corners of her mind lifted.
Maybe she’s just jumped to conclusions about Angie’s call.
Clarice approached her desk. “Got a present for you, Miss Amanda. For your baby.” She pulled a wrapped present from her book bag. “Can’t wait ‘til tomorrow.”
“Oh, Clarice, that’s so sweet. You shouldn’t have.” These kids needed every penny.
“Aren’t you gonna open it?” She bobbed on her toes.
The green tissue rustled as Amanda unwrapped the blue booties made from a thick yarn.
“My grandma made ‘em,” Clarice said proudly. “She took an old hat and ripped out all the yarn.”
“They’re beautiful. Thank you and please thank your grandmother for me.” She would bring in a thank you note with her tomorrow. This handmade gift seemed more precious than any box she’d opened the day before.
“Glad you like them. See you tomorrow.” Blushing, Clarice backed toward the door.
Opening her side closet, Amanda tucked the booties into her purse. She was really going to miss her classes. Maybe tomorrow she’d bring cookies.
The next two classes had heard word of the story and came into the room ready to listen. The morning passed quickly. During her lunch hour, Amanda phoned McKenna.
“Connor’s already gotten a hold of me,” McKenna said.
So he was worried after all.
“Give me a little while to find out what’s happening okay?” her sister-in-law continued. “I’m trying to contact Cindy, to see if she’s had any contact with Angie.” A social worker at the hospital, Cindy Warren had been a tremendous help with the adoption.
“Fine. Sorry we’re pestering you like this.”
“Not a problem.”
Amanda put her phone away and took a seat at the circular table in the teachers lounge. Rita Gerencher, one of the other English teachers, looked up from the papers she was grading. “Everything okay?”
“Sure. Just cannot wait until break.” A plate of Christmas donuts sat in the center of the table, red and green jimmies on the frosting. Weird that she didn’t even feel like taking one.
Rita wasn’t having that problem. She picked out a donut, broke it into sections, and began to nibble. “If only they’d give us the whole two weeks off.”
“It’s all about the snow days. The winters have been so bad the last couple of years. The school year already drags into June. Administration doesn’t want to add two more days just so we can have a two week vacation.”
Rita dusted the jimmies from her fingers. “Must be so exciting to look forward to having your baby.”
“I can hardly believe it.” Amanda delivered the line people wanted to hear. The teachers had given her a huge shower in early December at Rita’s house. Clothes galore, a humidifier and a wireless baby monitor had all come from her co-workers.
Why did the gifts make her so nervous? Maybe they seemed to tempt fate.
Amanda was glad when the bell rang. “See you later, Rita.” She was off, her sensible brown loafers making a beeline for room 207 where she could engage her class and put a halt to the worries spinning in her mind like over-dry laundry.
Connor sent a text saying he’d called Angie but she didn’t pick up.
Amanda slammed into her classroom that smelled of chalk and old books and took her seat on the stool.
The last two classes of the day passed pretty quickly.
Her throat felt scratchy from all the reading.
Tonight, she’d have to see if she could find a video recording of Charlie Brown’s Christmas.
They must have a copy somewhere. When they were first married, they watched it together.
Midway through sixth period, Amanda took a peek at her phone to see if McKenna had called.
Only a message from her parents popped up, saying they’d arrived.
In between sixth and seventh periods, she called home.
“The Kirkpatrick residence.”
Her mother’s careful enunciation made Amanda smile. “Mom, it’s me. Did you and Dad get settled?”
“Certainly did, dear. Snug as a bug in your little guestroom. And, oh my. We took a peek at the baby’s room. Isn’t it beautiful?” Her mother’s voice vibrated with excitement. “Now what about dinner? Do you want me to run out with your dad and pick something up?”
“No, I can get it on the way home. How would a roasted hen be with some coleslaw?” The last thing Amanda wanted was her parents negotiating Harlem Avenue in the huge Lincoln Connor had dubbed “the boat.” The snow had started again and the temperature was below zero, so roads would be icy.
“Can’t wait to see you, sweetheart.”
“Is Dad doing all right?” Amanda pictured him pacing from the kitchen into the living room and back, grumbling about the weather.
“Just dandy. I sent him outside to shovel.”
Her heart clutched. ”Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Five years earlier, her father had open heart surgery. Since then, her parents both seemed intent on proving how healthy he was.
“Well, you know your father when he gets something in his head. Can’t have you or Connor slipping on that walkway, sweetheart.”
“Okay, well, I’ll be home soon.”
When the last bell rang, Amanda was already packed up.
After the last student left the room, she turned off the lights and darted for the parking lot.
Traffic was snarled by the time she got on the Eisenhower to drive west toward Oak Park.
She was beginning to wish she’d taken the side streets, although they’d only gotten her into trouble on Saturday.
Trying to see through the swish of her windshield wipers, Amanda jumped when the phone rang.
McKenna’s name popped up and Amanda skidded into the right hand lane, fumbling for her phone.
“Are you on the highway?”
Amanda’s sigh was pure exasperation. “You sound just like your brother. Did you find anything out about Angie?”
“Not yet. The holidays always slow things down. I’m sure that something just came up and she’ll get ahold of you. She probably didn’t want to drive to meet you in this weather.”