Page 41 of A Twist of Faith
Heat drained from Dee’s face and she turned to open the jeep door. “I don’t take elevators.”
“I mean, if you were in one and—”
“No, I mean I don’tever.”
Dee slammed the door on Rainey’s next question, a chill of terror pinpricked up her spine. Rainey met her around the front of the jeep.
“Never?”
Dee shook her head and started walking toward their office building.
“Oh, so there’s something else I know about you. You’re claustrophobic.”
Let her think what she will. “I like classical music. I think it’s soothing.”
“I would have guessed that.” Rainey slapped her hands together. “Are you a tennis player?”
Dee’s jaw slacked and she stopped on the sidewalk to stare at her colleague. “How did you know?”
“It fits you. Isolated sport.” Rainey winked. “I bet you were a dancer when you were younger too.”
“Okay, now you’re scaring me.” Dee waved a hand in the air, resuming her walk. “Am I that obvious?”
“I just have to pay attention with you. You don’t talk about much else besides your job.” Rainey held the building door open, her sobered gaze pulling Dee’s attention. “You know, Dee, you can always come to my house or Mom’s if you want company. It’s not good for people to be all alone—not when you don’t have to be. Youdohave friends here.”
The old caution rose with icy fingers around her heart. Trusting someone? Believing in them? Opening oneself up to them? Rainey offered a new type of friendship, exquisite and rare like holding a masterpiece. The Mitchells meant their friendships to the core of who they were.
“Thank you, Rainey.”
Rainey hitched a half smile, but her gaze stayed intense, adding potency to her words. “You got it. Any time.” She followed Dee through the door and toward their offices. “Now, let’s talk about giving kids therapy.”
Dee groaned and reached for her office keys. “I know, I’m horrible.”
Rainey laughed. “No, you’re just very well-planned. For adults. Your lesson plans were impeccable. I’ve never seen reports so detailed, let alone lesson plans.”
“I have a PhD for heaven sake. I should be able to do this.” Dee sighed and opened her office door. Total helplessness lodged like a giant pill in her throat. “I’ve always known I wasn’t meant to work with children.”
“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed that.”
“Even after today?” She hadn’t pegged Rainey as a bold-faced liar.
“I’ve seen you with Lou and Brandon. You’re great. It’s just with therapy you’re trying to force things to happen, to make kids fit into some sort of plan without taking their learning style or age into consideration.” Her smile held an apology. “Great intentions, poor follow-through.”
“I just can’t manage that sort of behavior. The bouncing-around, the lack of attention.” She slumped into her office chair and placed her face in her palms. “The crying.”
Hands rested on her shoulders and Dee looked up in to Rainey’s compassionate face. “This may be hard for you to hear, but sometimes, you just have togo with the flow.”
Dee peeked through her fingers. “You sound like your brother.”
“I will try not get be offended by such slander.”
Dee grinned and dropped her palms down to her desk. Go with the flow? Her throat grew bone-dry. “I don’t think I can do that.”
“Sure you can. Mind you, there are some times and some kids that you toss everything into the air and start from scratch—but not the ones you have. You’ve just got to get inside their heads. Think … play.”
“Play?” Ten times easier said than done.
“Right.” Rainey sat down on the chair across from Dee, eyes narrowed. “You did used to play at one point in your life, didn’t you?”
