A Mother's Reflection. Elissa Ambrose

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СКАЧАТЬ those doors is the passageway that leads to the arena,” Megan said. “Isn’t that neat? You don’t even have to leave the building.”

      “Do you skate?” Rachel asked hopefully.

      “No, I don’t have much time for sports, with acting classes and rehearsals and helping out at home. Dad plays hockey, though. He says it helps him unwind. But I guess that kind of skating is different.”

      They passed through the main corridor and entered the theater. “This place is wonderful,” Rachel said. “I never figured on it being so large!”

      “It seats five hundred. Middlewood might be a small town, but we have a reputation for supporting the arts.” Megan motioned to the orchestra pit. “We even have our own symphony. They’ll be doing the music for Annie.”

      Rachel was touched by Megan’s obvious pride in her community. “When do they plan on finishing in here?” she asked as they made their way to the stage. She craned her neck and looked up. A big burly man was standing on the catwalk, hammering.

      “Sometime next week. At least that’s what Farley says.” Balancing herself with one arm, Megan swung onto a crate and sat down. “I suppose I’ll have to introduce you to Erika.” She rolled the name off her tongue as if it had a sour taste.

      “You don’t like her, do you?”

      “Let me put it this way. If we were putting on The Wizard of Oz, she’d be perfect in the role of the witch. I’m just hoping that someone will drop a house on her. Maybe then I won’t have to move away.”

      In her careful scheming Rachel hadn’t considered that Adam would ever leave Middlewood. She felt a cold knot form in her chest. “Your father just took on a new job. Why does he want to move?”

      “He’s not moving, just me,” Megan answered. “To some kind of finishing school. Did you ever hear of anything so stupid? A finishing school in this century! Erika calls it an art academy, but she can’t fool me. The Manhattan School for the Arts is just a place where East Coast parents can dump their kids.”

      “I take it you don’t want to go.” Rachel’s mind was whirling. She supposed she could always apply for a position at the school, but why would they hire her? The Manhattan School for the Arts was world renowned. It wasn’t a small private school in Hartford, and it certainly wasn’t Middlewood.

      Megan shrugged. “At least I won’t be living with Erika. She’s been chasing after my father ever since Mom died. Dad says they’re just good friends, but if I know Erika, she’ll have a ring on his finger before the end of the summer. She wants me out of the picture, except Dad doesn’t see it that way. He says she only wants the best for me.”

      Rachel had just been reunited with her daughter. She couldn’t lose her again. “Have you told your father how you feel?” she asked, hoping she didn’t sound desperate.

      “What do you think? But he only listens to Erika. He listens to practically everything she tells him, and these days she’s telling him that I need a mother. Puh-leeze! Just what I need, a mother who ships her kid off to boarding school. Look, I don’t mind if Dad gets married again. It would be kind of cool to have someone around, someone who could help me with my costumes. But not Erika.”

      Rachel didn’t miss the loneliness in her daughter’s voice. “I’d be happy to help you with your costumes,” she said softly.

      Megan looked at her thoughtfully, then flashed her a bright smile. “I remember. Handy with a needle, clueless about haystacks.” She lowered her voice. “Get out that needle, Rachel. You might need it as a weapon. Here comes the wicked witch of the West.” She gestured to a slim, petite woman coming up the aisle toward them.

      “Get down from there, Megan,” the woman said, approaching the stage. “What’s the matter with you? It’s dangerous in here with all this construction. It’s like a war zone. Where have you been? Your father’s been looking everywhere for you.”

      “Hey, don’t aim those fake nails at me,” Megan said, not moving from her perch. “I was only doing what he asked me to do, showing Rachel around. And it’s not dangerous in here. Farley’s way upstage. It’s not like he’s going to drop a hammer on anyone’s head.”

      The woman directed her attention to Rachel. “So you’re the new teacher,” she said coolly. “I’m Erika Johnson.”

      “Rachel Hartwell. I’m glad to meet you. I understand we’ll be working together. And please don’t be angry with Megan. She’s been so helpful. She’s been giving me a tour.”

      Rachel made a quick assessment of the woman standing next to her. Erika was poised and sophisticated in a raw silk jacket that closed in a deep vee, and a matching midlength skirt that was slit down the side. Definitely out of place in this dangerous war zone, Rachel thought.

      Two gray eyes bored through her. “You must have misunderstood,” Erika said. “We won’t be working together. You’ll be reporting to me.” She turned to face Megan. “Your father had a phone call. There was a minor crisis involving your grandmother, but it’s nothing you need to worry about. He had to go home, but he’ll be back later to pick you up.”

      “Nothing I need to worry about? She’s my grandmother!”

      “Don’t shout at me, Megan. Those were his words, not mine.”

      “Yeah, right. Hey, Ricky, I’ve got a great idea. Maybe you can send Grandma away to boarding school, too. Oops, I forgot. They don’t ship grandmothers off to boarding schools the way they do kids. They lock them away in homes.”

      “Watch that mouth of yours,” Erika retorted. Then, as though catching herself before she went too far, her voice took on a sugary tone. “That’s our Megan for you,” she said to Rachel, “always the drama queen. She’s one talented little girl.”

      “Little snot, you mean. Admit it, Ricky, you can’t wait to get rid of me.”

      Erika blew out an exasperated breath. “I refuse to get into this again, especially in front of a stranger. In any case, rehearsal is about to start. They’re all waiting for you in the cafeteria.”

      Megan hopped off the crate. “See what I mean? Even now she’s trying to get rid of me. You coming, Rachel?”

      “You go on ahead. I have to fill out some papers for Doreen, and then later, when your father returns, I have to meet with him to discuss the costume budget.”

      Megan set off down the aisle. “If you’ll excuse me,” Rachel said to Erika, “I’d better get started on that paperwork.”

      “Just one minute.”

      What now? Rachel thought.

      “I realize that Megan can be a handful, but I don’t want you giving her extra attention. For one thing, it wouldn’t be fair to the other children, and as a friend of the family, I can tell you that extra attention is precisely what that child doesn’t need.”

      Who did this woman think she was, talking to her this way? This was the woman who had Adam’s undivided attention? This was the woman who presumed to take on the role of Megan’s mother? “Is there anything else?”

      “Yes, as a СКАЧАТЬ