Ask Mariah Read Online Free
Author: Barbara Freethy
goals. Her thesis on the structure of family throughout American history no longer held any interest for her. She had several hundred pages and tons of photographs, but she just couldn't find the heart to finish it, especially since her own family had been shattered.
"What do you say?" Nora asked. "It's only six weeks, and you'll love the summer program. We do a unit on gardening, and the children plant their own vegetable garden. We also cook. You love to cook."
"It does sound like fun," she admitted. "And not that long either."
"But what about that trip to Hawaii we were planning," her mother asked. "And the line dancing class? You said you'd sign up with me."
She didn't want to learn line dancing or go to Hawaii. She also didn't want to hurt her mother's feelings. "You can do those things without me," she said.
"It wouldn't be the same without you."
She hesitated. Her mother was still grieving. Was it fair to leave her alone every day? But it had been two months, and she simply could not continue to spend every second with her mother. She needed time for herself -- a chance to figure out what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. One thing she'd learned from watching her father die was that life was far too short, and she'd already wasted too much of it.
"I'm sorry, maybe I shouldn't have brought this up," Nora said apologetically.
"No, I'm glad you did," she said. "I've been feeling restless. Maybe this job will help me figure things out."
"I don't understand," her mother interrupted. "Why take a preschool job now? What about your Ph.D.? You've worked so hard, and you're so close. How can you even consider taking a part-time job when you could be working on your thesis?"
"I can't do it right now. My mind is blank. Sometimes I don't know why I started it in the first place." She rested her palms against the wall, taking pleasure in the feel of the cool plaster beneath her fingertips. "The last time I spoke to Dad, he told me he didn't regret anything he had done in his life, only the things he hadn't done, because he was too afraid to take a risk or too busy to take the time. He told me not to make the same mistake, to dream, to reach for the stars, to grab on to something and make it mine."
Her mother looked at her as if she'd lost her mind, but then Caroline was not a dreamer. She was a doer. She got up in the morning, looked at her calendar, and followed her schedule. At night she sat down and planned the next day. Her life was a series of little things, and they seemed to keep her happy.
"Joanna, it's only natural that you feel empty, but you'll get back in the swing of things."
"Mom, please, at least let me think about it."
"Fine, I'm going to cool down." Caroline returned to the aerobics class, her shoulders stiff, her head erect.
"Sorry," Nora said with a sympathetic glance. "I didn't realize your mom had so many plans."
"My mother always has plans."
"They sound fun. Hawaii would be great."
"I've been to Hawaii. I'd rather spend time looking for an apartment."
"You're tired of the luxurious Bellarmine Towers?"
"I'm tired of living on the eighteenth floor. I want a garden and a deck. I want to look up at the trees and the sky instead of down at traffic jams."
"But you're so close to everything, the theater, great restaurants, shopping."
"I want dirt under my feet, land, trees, a view of something that isn't concrete. I want to walk out my front door and not look at an elevator panel." She shook her head, feeling her frustration boil to the surface.
"Then come and work at the school, Joanna. I can guarantee you a ground floor classroom, lots of sunshine, and plenty of dirt. It's only for six weeks. Just think, you can fill their little minds with history."
"I'll do it," she said impulsively.
"Good. You'll love the kids. First grade is an adorable age."
* * *
Bloodcurdling screams did not sound adorable, Joanna decided as she walked out of the teachers' lounge on
"What do you say?" Nora asked. "It's only six weeks, and you'll love the summer program. We do a unit on gardening, and the children plant their own vegetable garden. We also cook. You love to cook."
"It does sound like fun," she admitted. "And not that long either."
"But what about that trip to Hawaii we were planning," her mother asked. "And the line dancing class? You said you'd sign up with me."
She didn't want to learn line dancing or go to Hawaii. She also didn't want to hurt her mother's feelings. "You can do those things without me," she said.
"It wouldn't be the same without you."
She hesitated. Her mother was still grieving. Was it fair to leave her alone every day? But it had been two months, and she simply could not continue to spend every second with her mother. She needed time for herself -- a chance to figure out what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. One thing she'd learned from watching her father die was that life was far too short, and she'd already wasted too much of it.
"I'm sorry, maybe I shouldn't have brought this up," Nora said apologetically.
"No, I'm glad you did," she said. "I've been feeling restless. Maybe this job will help me figure things out."
"I don't understand," her mother interrupted. "Why take a preschool job now? What about your Ph.D.? You've worked so hard, and you're so close. How can you even consider taking a part-time job when you could be working on your thesis?"
"I can't do it right now. My mind is blank. Sometimes I don't know why I started it in the first place." She rested her palms against the wall, taking pleasure in the feel of the cool plaster beneath her fingertips. "The last time I spoke to Dad, he told me he didn't regret anything he had done in his life, only the things he hadn't done, because he was too afraid to take a risk or too busy to take the time. He told me not to make the same mistake, to dream, to reach for the stars, to grab on to something and make it mine."
Her mother looked at her as if she'd lost her mind, but then Caroline was not a dreamer. She was a doer. She got up in the morning, looked at her calendar, and followed her schedule. At night she sat down and planned the next day. Her life was a series of little things, and they seemed to keep her happy.
"Joanna, it's only natural that you feel empty, but you'll get back in the swing of things."
"Mom, please, at least let me think about it."
"Fine, I'm going to cool down." Caroline returned to the aerobics class, her shoulders stiff, her head erect.
"Sorry," Nora said with a sympathetic glance. "I didn't realize your mom had so many plans."
"My mother always has plans."
"They sound fun. Hawaii would be great."
"I've been to Hawaii. I'd rather spend time looking for an apartment."
"You're tired of the luxurious Bellarmine Towers?"
"I'm tired of living on the eighteenth floor. I want a garden and a deck. I want to look up at the trees and the sky instead of down at traffic jams."
"But you're so close to everything, the theater, great restaurants, shopping."
"I want dirt under my feet, land, trees, a view of something that isn't concrete. I want to walk out my front door and not look at an elevator panel." She shook her head, feeling her frustration boil to the surface.
"Then come and work at the school, Joanna. I can guarantee you a ground floor classroom, lots of sunshine, and plenty of dirt. It's only for six weeks. Just think, you can fill their little minds with history."
"I'll do it," she said impulsively.
"Good. You'll love the kids. First grade is an adorable age."
* * *
Bloodcurdling screams did not sound adorable, Joanna decided as she walked out of the teachers' lounge on
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