Chapter Ten

Rikki

I came home from work, exhausted from the mind-numbing tedium of data entry and worried about what I’d find. Kyle was acting strange. For the past two nights, she’d come into my bed at night, sobbing. When I asked her what was wrong, she shook her head and clung to me.

She couldn’t know. Not yet. Something else had to be wrong.

I found her in the kitchen heating up a pan of packaged noodles. Not exactly nourishing, but I felt too beaten to care. James was at the table drinking a glass of milk, a bowl and spoon in front of him.

“How was your day?” I asked them.

James was full of stories. He loved his teacher. He loved his class. The only thing he didn’t love was going to a different class to read. “We’re all kind of dumb, I think,” he said.

I sat down beside him. “No, honey. You aren’t. Never. For some reason reading’s just harder for you, that’s all. You’re good at so many other things.” But I knew reading affected all his classes. How could you learn history, science, and math if you couldn’t read? I’d known about his problem for the past six months, but those had been difficult months for me, and I hadn’t been able to figure out how to help him. Now it was time to do something.

“You should talk to Allia’s mother,” Kyle said, opening the package of flavoring to pour into the boiling noodles. “Allia told me she’s homeschooling her brother. Not Travis. The other one. Can’t remember his name.”

“Cory,” James said.

“Yeah, him. He was having problems or something, so she took him out to catch him up. I think she went to school to be a teacher but didn’t finish. Maybe.”

That didn’t go with the garden design dreams I’d heard from her, but I didn’t know enough to say. After my last conversation with Becca, I didn’t think she’d be overjoyed to hear from me, but it would be a good thing for James if she could help or even point us in the right direction. James needed her or someone like her, and I didn’t know where to begin. “I’ll talk to her,” I promised. “So, Kyle, what about your day?” I blinked to push off a sudden wave of dizziness. Had I taken my seizure medication? I thought so.

She shrugged. “The same.”

I hadn’t received any text messages about her missing classes, so she’d at least been there. “Is there anything you need for school?” Was it wrong to hope she said no? I was down to the last sixty bucks in my account and two weeks from a paycheck that would include only a week of work. I wondered if it was true about Mormon bishops being able to get people food. Well, I’d see how it went. We still had a few leftovers from what the ladies had brought on Monday.

“I don’t need anything.” Kyle managed a smile.

“Tell me what’s wrong, honey. You’ve always been able to talk to me.”

Kyle jumped up from the table. “Stop it already! There’s nothing wrong! Besides, I can’t talk to you anymore. You’ve changed.” Turning on her heel, she fled down the stairs.

“Oops.” In less than a second my nagging headache had gone from its familiar pounding to sharp daggers and blurred vision.

“She’s probably on her period,” James offered.

I blinked at him twice before laughing. “Maybe that’s it. How’s Fred the Fish doing?”

“He’s okay. I’m not giving him too much food.”

“I’m sure that makes him happy.”

“I saw Lauren at school,” James said. “She’s in the third grade, not the second. I wish she was in my class. We played together at recess. She’s my bestest friend.”

“Isn’t she a little bossy?”

He shrugged. “I’m used to Kyle bossing me.”

“That you are.” I rumpled his hair, the swelling in my heart reminding me how much I loved being his mother.

James touched my hand. “Mom, what’s wrong? You’re looking at me funny.”

That’s because there were two of him. “Just a headache.”

“Better take your pills.”

“Yeah. I’d better.” Not a good sign to have to take them so early.

I wrestled a bit with the bottle before I got it open and swallowed a pill. My hands didn’t want to obey—another reason I was better off not working at a restaurant. I’d dropped too many trays the past couple months. I told myself it was because of the headaches, but I knew better.

I need to lie down.

A few minutes later James found me in bed and climbed up beside me. “Mom? I have to read this, but I don’t know how. Can you help me?”

I couldn’t even see the paper because of the headache, but in ten more minutes the pills should kick in. “Let’s rest a minute and then I will. Tell me some more stories about your day. I love hearing about it.” I wished I didn’t have to work. I’d stay with him every second, watch as he grew before my eyes.

“Okay. The best thing was at recess when Lauren told Junior to let me go first down the slide . . .”

I dozed as he talked, and it was a long time before I could help him with his homework.