Page 7 of Candy Cane Dreams
She wasn't making any money, which was another reason why she had to watch her pennies. Somehow she'd misjudged—she had thought her start date was going to be the beginning of December, but the school district had decided to do some renovations to the counselor's room, and the contract they had offered her began in January.
It was fine by Kate; it would be much better for the children and for her to get used to things.
"I can't believe how different things are here," she said. And it wasn't just the school.
"You spent the day at the school already?" Isadora asked, walking to the sink and washing her hands.
"Yes. There's so much to learn. But there aren't nearly as many kids in this school as there were at my old one, so I'm pretty confident that I'm going to be able to learn everyone's name."
"That's one of the very nice things about small schools," Nelly said.
She looked around and then said to Marjorie, who was mashing the potatoes, "What can I do to help?"
Isadora had started chopping tomatoes on the cutting board, with a bowl of greens sitting beside her, and Nelly had opened the oven door and was pulling out a delicious-smelling casserole.
"If you don't mind taking the baked chicken that I have there on the sheet and putting it in that bowl, I think everything will be ready."
Kate, happy to have a job, grabbed the tongs that were sitting beside the chicken and started lifting it in, listening as laughter and joking went on behind her.
Isadora had instructed the children to set the table, and Nelly had mentioned that another sibling was going to come for dessert. Apparently that family did therapy, and the mom had a client.
Everything seemed so happy and cozy, and while Kate felt right at home, there was also a little bit of sadness because this was the kind of family she'd missed out on growing up.
Both of her parents had been professionals, and most of their suppers had consisted of takeout, or for a while, her mom had hired a meal service.
But this camaraderie around the kitchen where everybody was helping was new and... compelling.
Somehow everything was ready at the same time, and Kate carried her chicken in and sat down beside Nelly and Marjorie, with Isadora across the table from her.
To her surprise, everyone bowed their heads and said grace before the meal. Normally, Kate said a quiet grace to herself, but how long had it been since she'd been in a home that took the time to thank the Lord out loud?
Even when she’d been growing up, her parents, although they had been regular church attendees—going two or three times a month—had not said grace before their meals.
Everyone said, "Amen," and then began to pass the food.
Kate made an extra effort to learn the names of the children and to use them in conversation. They were included at the table as naturally as breathing, and it was obvious all the adults adored them.
"So where did you grow up, Kate?" Marjorie said with a smile and genuine curiosity, spoken like someone who cared. "I remember you coming home with Nelly when she came home from college one year. I saw you at church a couple of times, I believe."
"Good memory," Kate said, impressed. She had a vague memory of an older woman who'd been especially nice, but she couldn't remember whether it was Marjorie or not.
"I grew up in Maryland, near the shore. The Baltimore area, although I didn't live in the city. We lived in the suburbs until I began teaching in the city after college."
"That's nice. Inner city school?" Marjorie asked, looking impressed.
Kate smiled to herself. She'd always wanted to give back to the community, and she'd thought teaching at an inner-city school for a lower salary would be a good way. It hadn't really turned out that way, though.
"Yes, it was. Those kids just need so much."
"It's great that they have people like you who are willing to make the sacrifice to help them."
"So many teachers are willing to make the sacrifice, but we're hamstrung by red tape and politics."
She didn't want to turn the conversation into a political discussion, although she had plenty to say about it. She was here with this family at this table enjoying their generosity and didn’t want to turn the dinner table conversation into an argument. "But it was very rewarding in a lot of different ways. I'll definitely miss the children there."
She wouldn't miss the administration at all, and walking into this town and this home felt so much different than the impersonal and almost clinical way the inner city school felt. Not to mention, while she was surrounded by people, she had never felt more alone.
Maybe that was her fault somehow, although she did go out with her friends.
