Love and Sorrow (Small Town Secrets Book 5), стр. 6
I had no idea what else to say—but, until Sarah started talking, silence wasn’t an option for me.
So I forced more words out. “I remember bringing you home from the hospital. You were so tiny, so delicate. So fragile. I knew then that you were the biggest responsibility I’d ever have in my life. And somehow I’ve messed up. Whatever’s going on, honey, we can face it together. We’re a team here.” When Sarah looked up, her eyes felt like they were burning through mine—as if she had nothing to say yet had passed severe judgment on me. In response, my throat clenched—but then the stare from her that I’d grown used to changed. Softened. “I love you, Sarah.” It was then that a small tear formed in the corner of her eye, so I drew her close, holding her in a warm embrace as that tiny tear turned into a full-on crying jag.
For the longest time, I stroked her hair while she buried her head in my chest. As her sobs died down, I asked, “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” Without hesitation, she shook her head—but I wasn’t ready to give up. This was the most emotion I’d seen from my child in months. We were making progress. “Sweetheart, I can’t help you if I don’t know what the problem is.” Thinking back to my stint in middle school, I asked, “Are you getting teased by other kids?”
At first, she shook her head as she had moments earlier, but then she began to nod ever so slightly. “A little.”
“Is that what’s bothering you?”
“Not really.”
At last, I had her talking—and while I was nervous about her potential answers, I felt the need to brave into darker territory. I needed to know and she seemed ready to spill. “I’m not going to be angry with you, no matter what your answer, but…are you experimenting? Maybe trying drugs or alcohol?”
“No.”
Her answer didn’t make me feel any better. “Were you playing with cigarettes?”
“No.”
“Sex?”
She didn’t respond right away. Finally, though, she said, “No.”
It wasn’t reassuring.
“Honey, do you know you can tell me anything? Anything?” I paused, looking down at my child’s face, but her eyes were glued to her jeans. “What happened today that made you light the fire?”
At first, Sarah shrugged, pulling away from me before wiping her nose on the sleeve of her sweatshirt, but she looked at me before she began talking. “I don’t know. Some eighth graders were looking at me funny when they were walking down the hall, and they were laughing. It made me mad. They’re snotty girls who think they own the school, and that’s their bathroom. I thought it might teach them a lesson.”
Ah, finally. Confirmation. Not that I wanted it, but it felt like we were getting somewhere. “Are you sure they were laughing at you?” Sarah nodded emphatically. “I get why you would be upset, but that’s not the way to deal with things, honey. You could have burned the whole school down.” Up to that point, Sarah had been maintaining eye contact, but now she looked back down at her jeans. Before speaking again, I made sure my voice was soft and gentle. “You could have even been in trouble with the law. Fortunately, Mr. Cooper thought three days’ suspension would be enough punishment.”
That was a lie. While he hadn’t said anything, I didn’t know for certain that they weren’t going to do more—that was merely a hope. More than that, though, how a suspension was a punishment for Sarah I couldn’t quite understand. As near as I could tell, she didn’t want to be at school, so she was getting what she wanted—meaning this was actually turning out to be a punishment for me.
I grew angry with myself for even thinking that. After all, my child was suffering. Now was not the time to feel sorry for myself. I could work out the details of her not attending school later, so I cleared my head once more while I waited for my child’s response.
“I didn’t think about that.”
“Mr. Cooper thinks that maybe we need some counseling.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like a therapist. Someone you, or all of us together, can talk to. Someone who can help us with our problems, tell us ways we can handle them.”
“No one can help me.”
Oh, God. I touched Sarah’s chin. “That’s not true, sweetheart.” Pulling her back into my arms, I struggled with what I wanted to say, because I wasn’t sure how to say it. “We’re going to do it for a while. If you don’t think it’s helping after you give it a fair shot, then we’ll stop. Deal?”
“I guess.”
After holding her in silence for a while, I said, “Sweetheart, it’s time to pick up Devon, okay?” When I stood, she did as well, and I felt a little relief. While I really hadn’t done or learned anything, I felt like we’d made it over a hurdle.
My next task would be to call her dad—but that would have to wait.
Soon, we were in the van waiting for Devon. When my son bounded out of the elementary school, he smiled, making his dimples pop out. Unlike Sarah and me, Devon had light hair, a dirty-blond color that was changing to light brown the older he grew—but his eyes were green like his dad’s, and he had a smattering of freckles on his cheeks like I had at his age. He was looking around, trying to spot Sarah, no doubt, so I got out of the van and waved, calling his name.
Before we got in the van, he asked, “Why are you here, mom?” Then he hugged me around the waist, reminding me I still had one kid willing