Page 27 of A Twist of Faith
Or while sliding some leftover scraps to Haus when it was still dark outside so none of the neighbors could see. Or just now, when reading Alex’s recent email and wishing she’d never made the stupid wager.
And though she’d never admit it out loud, something close to sparks ignited in more than the fireplace when he stopped by. Lighting her fire?
She caught her laugh and then looked up at the beautiful degree hanging on the wall as she took another bite of Mrs. Mitchell’s strawberry crepe. Dee’s parents must have been attracted to each other at some point, even if their marriage didn’t turn out with a happy ending—especially with an alcoholic mother bringing the entire family down. The constant example of how mountain people couldn’t change their ways, so her father said. Narrow-minded and simple, right?
She took another bite of the crepe and sighed. For the first time since her father died, the prejudice failed to settle. Reese and Rainey didn’t fit that preconception.
Her Calvin and Hobbes calendar’s quote for the day nudged her not to lose sight of the joy in the moment, the day. Hope spun a thread around her heart and gave it a little tug, but the image of her father’s lifeless face snipped the string.
No! She tossed the remaining crepe into the trash and pushed the thoughts of Reese Mitchell from her mind. This type of irresponsible thinking led to poor, impulsive decisions. Even if the Mitchells proved an exception to the rule, she belonged somewhere besides Ransom.
Reese’s visit caught her tired and off guard after a horrible day, but she wouldn’t allow it to happen again. From this point on, it was strictly professional.
She stared at her to-do list and slumped forward from the weight of her responsibilities.
None of the contacts on her client list returned any calls, which left her with no clinic. None. The meeting with Dr. Russell only reiterated her loss. What would she do if she failed at this position?
Andshestillneeded to apologize to Rainey. Even if Rainey forgave her arrogance, it was highly unlikely she’d want someone like her working with kids. Besides, Deeneverworked with children, but her choices were limited—even if Rainey showed mercy.
She left her office and turned toward Rainey’s, the walk down the endless hallway bringing up the exhausting memories of making apologies to her father. His usual reaction included a long diatribe recounting Dee’s past, similar disappointments, and a reminder of how deceit only mirrored her mother’s sins…and she never wanted to be like her mother. After a half hour of reviewing her guilt, her father would finally put her out of her misery with a pat to her shoulder and a nudge out the door. The end.
But it never felt like an ending, merely a long succession of unhealed wounds.
How long would Rainey make her pay for her mistake? Dee’s pace slowed as she braced herself for the inevitable. Rainey’s office waited at the end of the corridor, tucked near a large play area with mural-covered walls known as the Language Room.
The open door emboldened her with needed courage. Rainey sat at her desk, face bent low over a book, absorbed. Her long golden hair tied back in a low ponytail, and she pushed the limits of “professional casual” with her khakis and long-sleeved blue t-shirt. Half of a strawberry crepe nestled at the corner of her desk.
Mrs. Mitchell made her rounds.
Unlike the barren cavern of Dee’s office, unruly colored art and various posters littered Rainey’s walls. A sign for Autism Awareness hug on one wall and nearby, a picture of Albert Einstein with the captionThink Differently. Kid-art took up some space, brightening the olive walls with pastel rainbows, neon cats, and misspelled words.
The sweetness of it carved a deeper ache in Dee’s heart. Not everyone’s life fit into the perfect little world the Mitchells knew—rainbows, neon cats, and all, but the simplicity of it must be the secret of the Mitchell’s kindness. People who’ve known hardship kept more somber attitudes, at least in Dee’s experience.
Rainey’s desk pointed to the right toward the large window in the room giving Dee a full view of her paper and picture-strewn work area. Three framed photos graced Rainey’s desk. One held the picture of a grinning, golden-haired girl and the other appeared to be a family photo. Reese stood on one side of Rainey, a lady who must have been Mrs. Mitchell hugged Rainey’s other side, Emma stood beside her, another young, dark-haired man came next, and then an older man closed off the other end. Family.
“Hey, Dee, I didn’t see you standing there.”
Dee looked up and gestured toward the desk. “Yes, well, um, I see you have strawberry crepes too.”
Rainey’s grin unfurled as she swiveled her office chair around to face Dee. “Mom’s notorious for spoiling people with food.” She patted her stomach. “It’s a good thing I have farm work to do, a four-year-old to chase, and like to run.”
“What are you reading?” Dee nodded toward the book, procrastinating a little until she worked up the courage and the words to apologize.
Rainey flipped her book over to show the cover.You’re Gonna Love This Kid. “It’s an older book about teaching kids with autism,” Rainey explained. “But the author does a fantastic job of laying the groundwork for more positive perspectives. I love her thoughts.” Rainey’s expression darkened. “But I doubt you’d be interested. The author only has her master’s degree.”
Dee cleared her throat and touched the corner of one of the photos on Rainey’s desk. “About that … I wanted to apologize for making such generalized assumptions, for my…arrogance.” She looked up. “It was wrong of me.”
Rainey remained silent, but didn’t look away. Her direct blue gaze searched Dee’s in a way similar to Reese’s. Uncomfortable. Honest.
“I’m not usually … well, there’s really no excuse for it and I’m sorry.”
Rainey tilted her head, as if clarifying Dee’s sincerity, and then without another pause, she stood and offered an outstretched hand. “Apology accepted. Let’s start over. What do you say?”
Dee hesitated out of sheer astonishment. No emotional manipulation? No groveling? Clearly, Rainey Mitchell didn’t follow in Dee’s father’s footsteps. Was there a hidden agenda behind her ready forgiveness?
“That sounds … good.” The usual edge of caution rose its ugly head. Was there a hidden agenda behind her ready forgiveness? Dee took Rainey’s hand and quickly released her hold, looking back at Rainey’s cluttered desk to give her stinging eyes another place to settle. “Your pictures are nice.”
“That’s my daughter, Sarah. She’s four and a sweetheart. Like her Mama, of course.” Rainey sat and leaned forward, lowering her voice. “Just don’t clarify that last statement with either of my brothers, okay? They’ll give you false information.”
