Holly Jacobs - Homecoming Day

Seth couldn’t help but think of his mom. He knew exactly what she’d say if she were here. “My mom had this option speech. She’d say, you should always do your best in every class, no matter how much work it takes because each of those grades represents your future options. Maybe your future job won’t depend on your grade in biology, but maybe you’ll decide you want to be a doctor. Maybe you’ll have this burning desire that eats at you—a feeling that your life won’t be complete unless you become a doctor. Well, if you flunked out of your science classes, you won’t have that option.”

He’d heard the speech so many times growing up, it was like he was channeling Deborah Keller. “If she said that to me once, she said it a thousand times. For her, it wasn’t about the grades, or the teachers, it was about me. About giving me the world. So, maybe you should give yourself as much of a chance as possible.”

“Maybe I’m dumb enough that all the chances and all the trying in the world won’t give me many choices, so what does it matter?”

Before he could come up with a response, JT pulled out some earbuds, stuck them in her ears and turned on an iPod, effectively tuning him out and his obviously unwanted advice.

He went back to the boxes and pulled out the pieces of a highchair. It was much easier to put together than the crib. Twenty minutes later, he carried it to the kitchen. “Where should this go?”

Laura smiled. “It’s great, isn’t it? How about we put it here.” She gestured to the side of the table. “I normally use this chair, so it will be close. I bought a little cloth cushion for it. It’s somewhere in all those boxes and bags.”

“I’ll find it. JT will holler at both of us if you try going into that room while she’s painting.” He paused. “She thinks she’s dumb.”

“Pardon?”

“I was talking to JT about leaving her options open by getting good grades, and it was easy to tell from her response that she doesn’t think she could get good grades, even if she tried. So her philosophy seems to be, why bother?”

Laura chewed on her lip. “I’ll talk to some of her other teachers next week. She still has detention with me. I’m pretty sure she’ll be serving it until Thanksgiving, or after. I thought her teachers could tell me areas she needs help in and we could work on them while she’s my captive.”

Laura looked fierce. Determined to help JT, even if JT didn’t want the help. She reminded him of Allie. His wife had gone into social work, filled with ideals, ready to save the world.

Seeing that same sense of commitment in Laura made him feel closer to her. “I hate to see any kid this lost. When they feel that it’s hopeless…well, that’s when we see them at the station. I don’t want to find JT down there again.”

Laura tore some lettuce and put it into a huge wooden bowl. “There’s something about her, isn’t there?”

“She reminds me of me,” he admitted.

“Really?” She seemed surprised at the comparison.

Seth remembered what it felt like to think no one cared, to believe he had no future. “She’s in pain. I’m no psychiatrist, and I don’t know why, but I can see it. And I understand it, too. Every day since Allie died, I’ve hurt. It’s like this gaping wound that scabs over, but the scab keeps getting ripped off. It’s stupid things. Like holidays.” Christmas was less than a month away. That was one of the most excruciating holidays. But all of them were hard.

“A certain song,” Laura added. “The smell of his cologne as you walk through a store.”

Seth nodded. “Going out on a starlit night…Allie loved the stars. She could name all kinds of constellations and would point them out to me and tell me their stories. I’ve never been able to see them like she could. When the scab comes off, it leaves me bleeding again. Makes me feel so alone. I see that in JT.”

“Jay and I used to fight about the remote. Not really fight. It was one of those couple’s mock-battles. We’d laugh as we jockeyed for control. Now, every time I pick it up, I wish he was here. I’d…”

She didn’t need to finish the sentence because Seth got it. “Both of us understand pain and loneliness. Maybe that’s why we’re so drawn to JT and her problems.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way.” Laura looked thoughtful.

“I know why we hurt…we’ve both lost people we love. I’m not sure why she maybe feels this way. But I think when we figure that out, we’ll be able to figure out how to reach her.”

“So, we’re allies?”

Seth liked the term. “That’s a perfect way to describe us. Allies. For JT’s sake.”

“I’ll talk to her teachers on Monday and maybe we’ll have some clue.”

“Maybe the school’s counselor?” he suggested.

“I can give it a try.” She paused. “Thanks for this.” She waved her hands between them. “Defining us as allies. It makes me feel better.”

He must have looked confused, because Laura continued, “I’ll confess, I haven’t let myself really think about it, but in the back of my mind, I thought maybe you were here because of Jay’s dad.”

“He’s not the reason. He did ask me to let him know if you needed anything, but was actually very specific about not wanting me to feel like I was in the middle. He didn’t want me spying on you. We’re allies. He’s my boss. They’re two different and distinct relationships.”

Laura seemed relieved. “Good. Thanks. You can tell him that I don’t need anything from him or his wife. You can assure him of that.”

Whatever was between the chief and Laura, it was clear that it ran deep. “Pain and anger. You, me and JT—the three of us seem to have it in spades. Hopefully, we’ll figure out what caused JT’s and help her get past it.”

Was there hope for them, as well?

THE BABY’S ROOM WASN’T completely done, but, with Seth and JT’s help, it was close. Laura went into school on Monday with some of her old optimism. She would find a way to help JT. She got a copy of JT’s schedule in the office, and one-by-one, tracked down her teachers.

JT’s science teacher handed her a stack of worksheets that JT could do for extra credit. JT’s math teacher, while not offering up glowing comments did say that she did well with the pre-algebra questions in class, but she struggled with word problems.

Her French teacher said her spoken vocabulary was above average, but her written knowledge of the language was almost nonexistent and she gave Laura some flashcards to work with.

Laura found JT’s English teacher at her desk during the her lunch break. She didn’t know Debbie Lutz well. Debbie was older and had a different clique of teacher friends than Laura did, but they’d always been on good terms. She knocked softly on the open door to draw her colleague’s attention. “Hey, Deb.”

Debbie set her sandwich down and motioned Laura in. “Laura. Did you need something?”

Laura took the chair next to Debbie’s desk, grateful to be off her feet. “I’m here to talk to you about JT Thomas.”

Debbie grimaced. “What did she do now?”

“Nothing. She’s serving detention with me and I wanted to get a feel for her schoolwork, and thought we could sort through a few of her problem areas.”

“Well, I’m glad you only intend to work on a few of them, because if you intended to work on all of them, it would be a full-time job. The girl is one of the most uninspired students I’ve ever had—she’s belligerent, insufferable, rude…”

Laura felt herself bristle at Debbie’s obvious dislike of JT. “Fine. You don’t like her. But my question is, what can I do to help her succeed in English?”

Debbie shrugged. “Nothing. She’s hopeless.”