Her Sister's Child. Cynthia Thomason

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СКАЧАТЬ she didn’t need to go to school. I hope you can find a way to change her mind, Julia. Your idea with the bubble bath seemed to work well the other day.”

      Julia sighed. “I’ll think of something, Mama.”

      AT NINE O ’CLOCK Thursday morning, while she waited for Katie to get dressed, Julia called the Vickers County Medical Center to get an update on Cameron’s condition. The operator switched her to the second floor station where a nurse reported that Cameron was currently in surgery. She suggested that Julia call back in an hour or so.

      Julia tried to put her concern for Cameron out of her mind as she and Katie drove down Whisper Mountain and headed for Glen Springs Elementary. Katie hadn’t spoken a word, so Julia attempted to break the ice. “I’m excited to see the school,” she said. “I was very happy there as a student.”

      Katie stared out the window.

      “Did you enjoy school in Tennessee?” she asked.

      “It was okay.”

      “Were your teachers nice?”

      “I guess.”

      Julia drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. “You know, one thing about living behind the store is that you don’t get the opportunity to meet other kids. We’re kind of isolated on the mountain. I suppose that’s why I always looked forward to school.”

      Katie knotted her hands together.

      “I’ll bet you miss your friends in Tennessee.”

      Katie turned her head, stared out the side window. “I have you and Grandma.”

      Julia gripped the wheel tighter. Oh, baby. But I’m not always going to be here.

      The principal of Glen Springs Elementary was a staid though seemingly competent individual who said he’d spoken to Cora and he understood the circumstances that made Katie’s enrollment unique. While Katie waited in the outer office, he assured Julia that the staff would do everything in their power to make her niece’s assimilation stress-free. Then he instructed his secretary to send Katie into his office.

      Her eyes downcast and her hands fisted at her sides, Katie walked stiffly to the wooden chair on the other side of the principal’s desk.

      Mr. Dickson interlaced his fingers on top of his desk, smiled and said, “So, you’re Katie.”

      She didn’t respond. Julia wasn’t surprised. It was a rhetorical question.

      “We’re very happy to welcome you as a Glen Springs Chipmunk,” he said.

      Katie stared at her hands. Her feet, a clear six inches above the floor, began to swing.

      “You can start tomorrow.” The principal waited for a reaction, predictably received none, and prompted, “How does that sound, young lady?”

      Katie turned to Julia. “I don’t need to go to school,” she insisted.

      “I was hoping that perhaps you’d want to, honey,” Julia said.

      “I don’t. I want to stay with you and Grandma.”

      Julia smiled. “We’re okay for a lot of things, but we can’t help you learn everything you need to know. You have to have a real teacher for that.”

      Mr. Dickson added his sensible argument. “And the government requires that you attend school. You wouldn’t want your aunt and grandmother to get in trouble for keeping you out, would you?”

      Katie stared up at him, her eyes crinkling in determination. “I can homeschool. Lots of kids do.”

      Julia couldn’t help admiring Katie’s quick wits. Unfortunately homeschooling wasn’t possible for her niece. Once Julia returned to Manhattan, Cora wouldn’t have time to oversee lessons with her responsibilities at the store. “There are always options, Katie,” she said. “But I think we should try this one first.”

      When Katie started to protest, she said, “And tomorrow will be just right. It’s Friday. You can attend one day and have the whole weekend to tell us about your class and the kids you met. What do you think of that idea?”

      Katie didn’t appear to think much of it at all, so Julia tossed in one more selling point. “And after school, we can stay late, visit the library and take out some books.”

      Baby steps, Julia. One inch at a time and eventually a foot is gained.

      “We could do that, I guess,” Katie said.

      Julia stood, extending her hand to Mr. Dickson. “We’ll be back tomorrow. In the meantime, if you would consult the school’s guidance counselor about Katie as we discussed, I’d be grateful.”

      “Certainly. We’ll see you ladies in the morning.”

      When they left the school five minutes later, Katie took Julia’s hand. “What are we going to do now?” she asked.

      Julia paused, considering the answer. “Excellent question. I’m thinking we should go to the mall, have a snack at the food court and buy you some new clothes, maybe some especially sparkly things.” She smiled down at Katie. “Just in case Friday goes well, we have to be prepared for Monday.”

      And then I’ll pick up Cameron at the hospital and see if he’s come up with a better option for his situation, she thought. Before starting her car, Julia called the hospital on her cell phone. The second floor nurse assured her that Cameron had come through the surgery just fine and was resting in the recovery room.

      WITH SEVERAL shopping bags in the backseat of her rented Toyota and ice cream still sticky on their fingers, Julia and Katie headed up Whisper Mountain. Julia pulled into the gravel lot of Cora’s General Store and parked next to the cube van belonging to Sunny Vale Bakery. “Have you ever met Oscar?” she asked Katie.

      “No.”

      “Then you’re in for a treat, maybe literally, although you’ll have to save it for after dinner now.”

      The store was crowded for a weekday afternoon. Cora had a line at the cash register, and Rosalie was helping customers pick out native-made jewelry from the glass showcase. A couple sat at one of the booths in the snack bar chowing down on Cora’s famous hot dogs, “the best on Whisper Mountain,” according to the sign on the store’s front porch. Of course, nowhere could the customers read that Cora’s hot dogs were the only ones offered, since the store was the only stop between the town of Glen Springs and the top of the mountain.

      A middle-aged man with thick salt-and-pepper hair looked up from a display shelf where he was stocking prepackaged goodies labeled with the Sunny Vale trademark, a bright sun rising over a meadow. “Hey, Julia,” he called. “Good to see you.”

      “Same here, Oscar.” She walked over, gave him a quick hug and stepped back so he could see Katie. “I’d like you to meet my niece.”

      The man smiled at Katie. “I heard there was another golden-haired Sommerville lady here,” he said, his old-country accent as charming as always. Oscar Sobriato was proud of his Italian heritage. He rubbed his thumb over his chin СКАЧАТЬ