Nineteen

Cleo clutched the broom’s handle tightly as she moved the porch rocker and reached to sweep behind it. What was wrong with her this morning?

She should be the happiest girl in Latagnier. Why, then, did she feel as though she’d just heard the worst news of her life?

Uncle Joe had given in. She was going to college to become a teacher. In no time, she’d have a teaching certificate in her hand, and she would be officially able to impart all her knowledge to eager students.

This was her dream, her fervent prayer. Now that the Lord had granted it, why was she so tempted to go to Him and tell Him she’d changed her mind?

After all, Theo Breaux thought it was a good idea, too.

She struck the business end of the broom against the wall to dislodge a spot of dirt, then swept it off the edge of the porch. Watching it land in the bed of Easter lilies, she remembered the carpenter’s glee at her uncle’s news.

He was downright happy.

The thought irked her and worked irritation into her bones. Couldn’t the man have at least indicated he might miss her? After all, there were less than three months left before the fall term.

Three months.

If only Tante Flo were here to talk to. In anticipation of the Easter celebration, coming up in just over a week on April 3, her aunt and some of the other church ladies were busy quilting a new altarpiece. She’d likely spend the whole afternoon at the church.

Of course, Cleo knew she could join them, but sitting with a bunch of married ladies while fretting about a man and her future didn’t sound like her idea of a pleasant afternoon.

Not that she’d likely enjoy any activity today.

She swiped at a pebble that had somehow found its way onto the porch, sending it flying into the same bed of lilies. How she’d like to give Theo Breaux a swipe with this broom. Maybe it would knock some sense into him.

A man didn’t just kiss a girl, then act like it was a good idea that she leave town. Well, at least not an honorable man.

“My, but this floor does shine.”

Cleo jumped and dropped the broom. Rev. Broussard stood on the porch steps, hat in hand.

“Forgive me, dear. I thought you heard me.”

Placing her hand over her racing heart, she retrieved the broom. “No, sir, I didn’t.”

The pastor smiled. “Lost in thought?”

She nodded. “Actually, yes.”

“Anything I can help with?” He smiled. “I do have some measure of qualification in the area of giving advice.”

Pausing, she considered whether to speak her mind with the pastor and seek his counsel. Before she could decide, she heard her uncle’s heavy footsteps coming their way.

“That you, Reverend?” The screen door opened with a squeal, and Uncle Joe stepped out onto the porch. “You ready to go?”

“I am,” the pastor said.

“Well, give me just a minute to collect my things, and we can be off.” Her uncle turned to face Cleo. “Reverend and I are heading to town. I thought I might mail that letter to New Orleans.” He punctuated the statement with a grin, then transferred his attention to the pastor. “Looks like I’m going to have a real live certified, college-educated teacher in the family. Come the fall, Flo and I’ll be packing Cleo off to school. How do you feel about that?”

“Well now,” Rev. Broussard said. He crossed the distance between them to take Cleo’s hand in his. “I think that’s a fine honor, Cleo. A real fine honor. We should celebrate.”

“Now that is a good idea,” Uncle Joe said. “I’m going to tell Flo we need to put on a little party for our girl. The Lord blessed us with her and made her smart, and now she’s going off to college. I want all of Latagnier to know it.”

Cleo mustered a smile in hopes it would match the ones the men wore. Then a thought dawned, and her smile appeared for real. “They haven’t accepted me yet, you know. I think we should reserve our celebrations until then.”

Uncle Joe seemed surprised at her statement. Curiously, the reverend did not.

“Of course they’ll accept you, but I see your point.” Uncle Joe gestured toward the house. “Yes, well, I’ll go fetch my things and we can be off to town, Reverend.”

The pastor nodded. “Take your time, Joe. I’ll just sit a spell and visit with your niece.” He settled on the swing and patted the spot beside him. “Take a break from your sweeping, won’t you?”

Cleo looked at the broom handle in her hand and realized she’d forgotten she held it. Propping it against the wall, she sat beside the pastor and heaved a sigh.

“Quoi y’a? Something troubling you, child?”

“No, well, oui.” She curled her fingers around the chain holding the swing, then rested her forehead against the cool metal. “I’m confused, I suppose, and that does trouble me.”

“How so, if you don’t mind my asking, that is?”

“Oh, I don’t mind. I just don’t know if I can explain it.” She leaned back and listened to the chains clank against one another. “It is all so complicated. I don’t know where to begin.”

“I suppose this sounds like a cliché, but I always recommend a body begin at the beginning.” He patted her shoulder. “Or you don’t have to tell me anything. We could merely pray if that will help.”

She thought a moment before shaking her head. “Actually, I think it would do me good to talk to someone who could keep my confidence.”

He smiled. “Well then, you have the right man for the job. Keeping confidences is what I do best.”

Cleo let out another long breath and plunged into her story. “Going to college is exciting. It’s amazing to think that an orphan girl from Latagnier could end up going off to college and being a teacher.” She turned her gaze to the pastor. “It’s what I’ve always wanted.”

“Well, then, why the confusion? Are you afraid, or is there something else bothering you?”

“Afraid? No, I don’t think so. I think I am more worried that I’ve been dreaming the wrong dreams.”

“What an interesting way of putting things.” He seemed to consider her statement. “I take it you thought you wanted to be a teacher but now you think you’re being called to some other occupation. Is that correct?”

Was it? No, not exactly, but how to explain to the reverend without embarrassing herself?

“Occupation isn’t quite the word I was thinking of, Rev. Broussard. I guess I’m trying to say I’m not sure if I am being called to an occupation at all.”

He looked perplexed. “Then what are you being called to do, child? What is there to do if not work?” Pausing, a smile grew. “Ah, I think I see the dilemma.”

“You do?”

The reverend nodded. “Indeed. You thought you were to teach children. Now—and perhaps I’m setting off in a direction you didn’t mean to send me—you feel as though the Lord intends you to raise children instead?”

Stunned, she diverted her gaze. She hadn’t thought of things quite that way. A house full of children to raise—and to teach.

Her mind reeled back to daydreams she’d had just days ago, images of dark-haired children with names like Ernest and Angeline. Was that what the Lord wanted of her?

Suddenly her heart lightened. Maybe God gave her the ability to teach so that she could be a better mother and not just so that she might be a better teacher. The idea was no less far-fetched than imagining herself among city folk at the college in New Orleans.

Both had their appeal. And their drawbacks.

Suddenly either one could be her future. Whichever God allowed, she knew she would be happy.

“Cleo?”

She turned her attention to the reverend, who stared at her with a quizzical look. “Yes?”

“That’s a nice smile. I haven’t seen it for some time. I rather like it.”

She broadened her grin. “I like it, too. Thank you, Rev. Broussard.”

He placed his hand over his heart and shook his head. “For what? I didn’t do a thing.” He paused, his face grave. “Cleo, promise me one thing.”

“What’s that?”

Shifting slightly, he faced her directly. “Promise me that you will wait on a clear direction from the Lord and not depend on your own understanding of what you think He would want for you.”

Cleo nodded. “I promise. Perhaps I should pray for patience then.”

The pastor chuckled. “Oh dear, now that’s a dangerous petition to make to the Lord. In my experience, He always seems to grant a request for patience by teaching it to you through experience. In other words, He tends to make you wait.”

“Oh my.” She joined him in his laughter. “So then, asking for patience is not a good idea. I’ll just ask Him to hurry. How’s that?”

Rev. Broussard affected a surprised look. “Funny, that’s not the first time I’ve heard that prayer today.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, curiously I prayed with a fellow parishioner just before I arrived here. He asked the Lord for the very same thing.” The pastor smiled and looked away. “Interesting indeed.”

The screen door squealed a warning as it flew open and Uncle Joe spilled out onto the porch. He wore his blue suit and his best hat, and he carried a satchel of papers under his arms. Inside that satchel, Cleo knew, was a letter to New Orleans begging on her behalf for a spot on the fall roster at the college.

He set the satchel on the porch rail and began fumbling through the items inside. “Ah, here it is. Cleo, take a look at this list and see if I’ve left off any supplies you need for the schoolhouse.”

As her gaze ran the length of the page, her mind ticked off the items required for the schoolroom. Each seemed to be present on the list.

“No, I can’t think of anything missing,” she said as she handed the paper back to her uncle. “It looks like you’ve thought of everything.”

He nodded. “Good. Theo tells me the school will be finished soon. I want everything in place to get started as soon as we can. What with Cleo leaving in a few months, I’d like to get our children into the schoolhouse and learning their lessons as soon as possible.”

“I’m not sure the children will be as excited as you, Uncle Joe,” Cleo said with a chuckle.

“I have to agree with Cleo,” Reverend Broussard said. “But I do think it will make for a much easier transition once the new teacher arrives if the children are already used to coming to school and tending to their lessons.”

Uncle Joe replaced the list in his satchel, then closed the latch. “Theo promised a progress report today. I told him you and I would stop by on our way back from town and see what he’s got to show us.”

“That sounds like a fine idea,” the reverend said as he fell into step beside Uncle Joe.

That sounds like a fine idea. The same words Theo Breaux had used to describe his reaction to Cleo going off to college.

Cleo reached for the broom. What the Lord did with her situation was anyone’s guess. What He intended to do with Theo Breaux was another mystery.

At least she knew the one who had the situation in hand. “You know I’d just mess it up if I tried to fix it.”