Catching Fireflies

He frowned at that. “The way I heard it straight from her lips, she’s not really interested in moving here.”

“Oh, I think she would if the right opportunity came along,” she responded confidently.

“And you think working in a small town medical practice would be the right opportunity?”

She shrugged. “Maybe not, but I know working with you would be.”

“Debra!”

She laughed at his discomfort. “I’m just saying, you could both do worse.” Then she gave him a look that was all too knowing. “Something tells me you already have.”

And that, J.C. thought, was the sad truth of things.

* * *

Laura was thoroughly frustrated by her inability to figure out what was going on with Misty. She’d been AWOL from class again today, and Cal had had nothing to report that might give her any insight beyond mentioning that Misty’s pediatrician shared her concern. Time was running out. If she couldn’t solve the mystery and get Misty back into class by Monday morning, she’d have no choice but to bring it to the principal’s attention. Then it would be out of her hands. She’d take enough heat for having been silent for this long.

She’d just finished recording the grades from the last assignment when she looked up and saw Misty standing in the doorway to the classroom. She looked as if she might bolt at any second.

“There you are,” Laura said, unable to keep a note of relief out of her voice. “I’ve missed you in class. I’ve asked your other teachers to let you know I wanted to see you, but you’ve been ignoring my messages.”

“I’m sorry,” Misty said, making her way into the room with unmistakable reluctance.

The poor child looked as if the weight of the world were on her shoulders.

“Do you have a minute now?” Misty asked hesitantly. “Or some other time?”

“Now’s good,” Laura assured her.

Misty sat down and looked everywhere but directly at her.

“Want to tell me what’s been going on?” Laura asked eventually.

Misty shook her head. “Not really.”

Laura bit back a smile. “Then why are you here?”

“I made a promise to somebody and I have to keep it or I’ll be in big trouble.”

“You’re already in big trouble,” Laura reminded her. “Skipping class is grounds for suspension.”

Misty sighed, her expression oddly resigned. “Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. I could just study at home and turn in my assignments.”

Laura frowned at her. “What’s wrong with school, Misty? You’ve always been an excellent student. The first papers you turned in for me were A-plus tests and essays, so I know you’re not struggling with the material. Now you’re skipping my class.”

“And Mr. Jamison’s,” the teen admitted.

Laura wasn’t all that surprised that he hadn’t noticed. Dave knew his subjects—algebra and geometry—but beyond that he wasn’t exactly a teacher who stayed on top of things. She wondered, though, what the common denominator was between those two classes.

“So it’s not just my teaching style you don’t like,” she said, hoping to lighten the mood a little.

Misty looked appalled by the suggestion. “No, you’re great! I love English. Math, too, for that matter. I just can’t come to class.”

“You need to explain that to me,” Laura said firmly. “I can’t help unless you do.”

Misty shook her head. “It’ll only get worse if I talk about it. Please, you’ve got to believe me. It’s better if I’m not in class.” Her expression brightened. “Maybe I could transfer back into the regular English and math classes or at least to the other section of AP math, the one Katie Townsend’s in. That would be okay, wouldn’t it?”

Laura immediately shook her head. “Not a good idea. Of course, it would be up to Mr. Jamison if he allowed you to change to his other AP class, but this English class is the only choice and you need to stay in it. I could understand you wanting to do that if you were having a hard time with the material, but you’re not. These classes will be important on your transcripts for college, Misty. I thought you were determined to try for a scholarship to an Ivy League school.”

“That’s probably just a pipe dream, anyway,” Misty said, though there was an unmistakable hint of regret in her voice. “I’ll ace the other classes, and it’ll be okay if I only get into a state school or even community college.”

“That doesn’t sound like you,” Laura said, more worried than ever by the regretful, defeated tone in the girl’s voice. Years ago, she’d probably sounded much the same way to Vicki Kincaid. She’d been lost and overwhelmed by a situation that had gotten out of control. Only Mrs. Kincaid’s kindness and guidance had gotten her through that terrible time. She prayed she could provide the same for Misty.

“I’m just facing reality,” Misty told her earnestly. “Please, Ms. Reed, let me transfer back. It’s not such a big deal, really.”

Laura was not about to authorize a transfer without a better reason than Misty was providing. Once more, she shook her head. “Sorry, no. You might see it as a quick and easy solution to whatever’s going on, but there are more important things at stake. This could change your entire future.”

Misty looked totally deflated. “If you won’t okay that, will you at least do one other thing for me?”

“What’s that?”

“I went to see someone yesterday to try to get an excuse to get out of school. He said he wouldn’t tell my mom, but only if I talked to another adult. That’s you. All you’d need to do is call him and tell him I made good on my promise.” She regarded Laura hopefully. “Can you do that?”

Laura suddenly had some inkling who had extracted such a promise from her. It had been rather cleverly done, though she doubted that she was one bit more enlightened about what was really going on with Misty than J. C. Fullerton had apparently been.

“Give me the name and phone number,” she said just to be sure she had it right.

Misty handed her a business card for the pediatrician. Laura had seen J.C. around town, of course, but they’d never met, despite several well-meaning friends who’d offered to fix them up a couple of years ago. Apparently he hadn’t been interested.

“I’ll talk to him,” Laura said, resolving to stop by his office, rather than phoning. She might learn more if they were face-to-face. In the meantime, she held Misty’s gaze and said, “But you and I are going to keep talking about this, and I expect you in class next week. Understood? No more second chances.”

Misty ignored her edict and said only, “Can you call him right now? He kind of gave me a deadline, and it’s only an hour from now.”

“A deadline? And then what?”

“He said he’d have to stop by the house to see my mom.”

Laura’s respect for the doctor climbed a notch. Clever and responsible. It was a good combination.

“I’ll make the deadline,” she promised Misty. “And I’ll see you in here on Monday.”

“Whatever,” Misty said, which wasn’t especially reassuring.

At least she’d finally made contact, Laura thought. And that was due to J. C. Fullerton. For that alone, she owed the man a debt of gratitude.

* * *

J.C.’s gaze kept straying to the clock on the wall in his office. If his phone didn’t ring in the next fifteen minutes, then he had an uncomfortable visit to pay to Misty Dawson’s parents. When his phone buzzed, though, the medical records clerk who’d stayed to finish updating patient files advised him that Laura Reed was here to see him. It took him a second to recall that she was the teacher Cal had mentioned to him the night before.