The Path To Love. Jane Myers Perrine

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СКАЧАТЬ while I was incarcerated.”

      He looked up at her, his eyebrow lifted. “You did? Congratulations. I’ll get that information from TDC and put it in your record.” He wrote on a sticky note and attached it to her folder. “Did you bring me your pay stubs?”

      She put her hand over her mouth. “Oh, no! I had them all ready to go, then I got worried because I had forgotten if Elizabeth Bennett had—well, you probably don’t care about what I had to check, but I thought it might be on the test. Anyway, I left them on the table when I ran out. Can I…may I bring them next time?”

      “Of course.” He studied her for a moment before he asked. “How is the great metamorphosis going? I mean, have you moved along with your change?”

      “Yes, my metamorphosis is moving along just fine.” She studied him for a moment before she nodded and said, “I do know what the word means.”

      “Of course you do. I had no doubt—”

      “You know, criminal doesn’t mean stupid, except on certain topics, like hard work and honesty and common sense. Truly, I’m working hard not to fall into that trap again. Self-control is high on the list of fruit of the spirit, one I’m concentrating very hard on.”

      “Of course, Miss Calhoun. Please forgive my rudeness. I have to say that I’m very pleased you have found out what the fruit of the spirit is.”

      “Thank you.” She felt surprisingly delighted at the compliment. “Okay. About the metamorphosis, I’m still looking for a church.” She held her hand up before he could ask. “The Sunday after I saw you, I went to the first one I visited, the one where I decided I wanted to change. The people there didn’t seem happy to see me. Guess they don’t mind if I come to the revival service but not Sunday morning.” She shrugged. “That evening, I visited another church, but it was a little, well, a little too loud for me. Last Sunday, I tried another but that was…ummm…slightly boring and the people seemed a little cold. So I’m still looking for one that will be right.”

      “If you’re sincere, I’m sure you’ll find a place.” He picked up his pen again. “Why don’t you tell me about your plans for the future? Why did you decide to go to college?” He wrote the date and looked up expectantly.

      She didn’t speak for almost a minute. She bit her lower lip before saying, “I don’t know what I’m going to do with that education,” she said finally. “I just knew, when I went to prison, that I couldn’t live like that anymore, like I always had, like my family always has. Stealing from people and hiding from the police and being locked up. I knew I had to prepare for a better life.”

      He nodded his encouragement.

      “My family hasn’t been much for looking ahead. I mean, past the next job or casing the convenience store or bank they wanted to knock over or setting up their next scam. Planning is new for me, too, but I have to change. I know education is the place to start.”

      She looked at him for a second, then she gave him a tiny, uncertain smile which grew into a grin.

      His expression changed from concentration to—it looked like interest. Oh, she knew she had to be wrong, but maybe a spark of attraction was there, for just a second. Then he blinked, cleared his throat and assumed an unsmiling professional demeanor.

      “Education seems like, for my mind, what those fruit of the spirit are for my soul, you know?” she continued. “I’d like to use my education to help people, to become a teacher, maybe.”

      He didn’t say anything for a minute, just kept his eyes on her face until he realized she was watching him while he studied her. “I’m sorry, Miss Calhoun. An idea about another client distracted me. If you would please repeat your comment?”

      It didn’t seem to her he’d been thinking about another client. He’d been looking at her, sort of inspecting her face, as if he found her attractive. She wasn’t going to call him on it. How dumb would it be to contradict her parole officer? How dumb was it to think he could find Francie Calhoun attractive?

      Instead she said, “I said I thought once about maybe being a teacher, although I don’t think a school would hire anyone with my record.”

      “That’s probably right.” He used a cold, professional tone.

      She shivered at the unexpected chill in his words. Why had he changed so much? And he seemed to be meditating again, looking down as his pen before pulling his attention back to her.

      “I’m sorry,” he said. “There’s an enormous problem with the other client. Please continue, Miss Calhoun.” He didn’t meet her eyes.

      “How nice of you to be so concerned about all your clients. I don’t think Mr. Gentry thought about us at all.”

      “Nevertheless, I should not be taking time from your appointment.”

      “I figure nursing is out, too, and probably accounting, so I don’t know what I want to do, what’s open to me. I’m just picking up the basic hours.”

      “I’ll arrange for you to see a vocational counselor.” He wrote another note on her file.

      “Thank you.” She blinked in surprise at his suggestion. Mr. Gentry would never have thought of that. “That’s a wonderful idea. They could give me some direction.”

      “I appreciate your gratitude, but it’s nothing. Gentry should have done this months ago.”

      “It’s something I could certainly use.”

      “Miss Calhoun,” he began but his voice seemed to go all funny, alternating between friendly interest and that chilling note. She wondered why. If she hadn’t known better, she’d think maybe he did find her attractive and was trying to ignore it, but that was crazy. She was, she reminded herself, an ex-con. He was, after all, her parole officer.

      Did he have to keep reminding himself, too? She wondered for a moment before stuffing that thought back in the far depths of her brain. Of course not. He was her parole officer and would never find a woman with her criminal tendencies interesting.

      “Miss Calhoun,” he said after clearing his throat, “how many hours do you have in college?”

      “Oh, only fifteen so far. Nine when I was incarcerated and six since—but I’ll have twenty-one when I get my credit for this course and the intro to psych course I’m taking. I wish it could go faster but it’s hard to work and go to school. I work breakfast, from five-thirty to nine or so, and lunch. Julie lets me work in a morning class between nine and ten when I need to, and in the fall, I’ll take two in the afternoon. And, of course, the cost—”

      “Have you checked into scholarship help or grants?”

      “What?” She considered for a moment. “No, I haven’t. Would I be eligible? I didn’t think people like me—”

      “There are some government funds that are closed to anyone with a record, but I believe there are others you could apply for. I’ll write a note to get in touch with your school. What school are you attending?”

      “Texas Community College, the downtown branch.”

      He nodded again. “I know someone in the financial aid office. I’ll СКАЧАТЬ