“I want to see what a song looks like when it’s just starting out.”
The kid hesitated. “I don’t even let my mom read it.”
Gerrit made a show of looking around, then held out his hand. “I don’t see your mom anywhere.”
Morgan’s mouth hung open a little as he placed the notebook in Gerrit’s hand as though he were surrendering his firstborn child. Gerrit opened it with the gentle reverence he felt was expected. Daisy inched closer, tongue lolling, as if to get a better look, and he shooed her away.
“Go bug someone else.”
As the indomitable corgi trotted off to visit with other students, Gerrit flipped through Morgan’s book. Some pages were filled with words from top to bottom, while others only had a few brief notes scratched out in blue pen. And some pages had rough drawings and doodles. The ones that caught his eye the most had capital letters squeezed in above the words Morgan had written.
He pointed at one of the letters. “What’re these?”
“Those are the chords. For the music.”
It was foreign to him but strangely beautiful. Morgan’s handwriting was awful, like his. The only songs Gerrit knew were from decades ago—John Denver, Willie Nelson, and Creedence Clearwater Revival. He couldn’t abide what passed for music on the radio these days. But the snatches of lyrics in this book felt like music. A page with the words Anyone, Anywhere across the top caught his eye. He squinted at the writing.
An eager face
A run-down place
Back door slamming, echoing through the night
A couple tears
Nobody hears
Swearing this time everything’ll be all right
Could be anyone, anywhere
It was no CCR song, but Gerrit couldn’t stop staring at it.
RAE GASPED AS Daisy whimpered and ran away. She hadn’t said anything when Taylor deliberately screwed up her homework and refused to try again. Hadn’t made an issue of it when Taylor yelled at anyone who tried to sit at their table, or when she called Rae that word that rhymes with stitch.
But kicking Daisy in the stomach was going too far.
“You apologize right now.” Rae stood and pointed to where Daisy cowered behind Gerrit. “Or I’ll let Mark know you won’t be coming back.”
Mark had made it clear at the beginning of the program that any student who was disrespectful or disruptive would be asked not to return. No one had been kicked out so far, but Rae meant what she said. And one glance at Gerrit told her if she didn’t do something about Taylor, he would.
Taylor’s eyes widened as she stared at Rae. Her face scrunched up.
Rae pointed again. “Now.”
Taylor burst into tears. “I’m sorry.” She ran to Daisy and threw her arms around the dog. “I didn’t mean it.”
Though Gerrit glared at Taylor, ready to toss her out on her behind if she hurt his dog again, Daisy was quick to forgive. She licked Taylor’s ear as the girl cried into her neck. The hard looks on Gerrit’s and Morgan’s faces at Taylor’s abuse gradually softened as her tears soaked Daisy’s fur.
Rae knelt beside Taylor and put an arm around her shoulder. “Okay, it’s okay.” Her tone was soothing and gentle. “Why don’t you come back to the table so we can talk about it.”
Rae didn’t know what “it” was, but it must be something big to make Taylor lash out at an innocent animal like that. Taylor allowed Rae to help her to her feet and guide her back to her chair. The waif of a girl dropped into the seat, folded her bare arms on the table, and laid her forehead on her arms.
“What’s going on today, Taylor?” Rae pulled the other chair up close and spoke quietly. “You can tell me.”
“I don’t want to move again.” Taylor’s voice sounded muffled as she spoke into the table. “I like it here. We’ve lived here longer than anyplace else. But Mom says we’re leaving the day after school gets out. She doesn’t care.”
“Where are you going?”
Taylor sniffled. “I don’t know. To my aunt’s, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“That’s where we usually go when Mom runs out of money.”
“Did she lose her job?”
“She doesn’t have a job.”
Rae waited, but Taylor offered no further information. Rae wanted to ask about her mom’s boyfriend—Steve?—yet she was reluctant to pry. It hit her like a brick, however, that she hadn’t caught so much as a glimpse of Taylor’s iPhone all week. Her heart sank.
“Is your aunt’s house far away?”
“Yes.” The misery in Taylor’s tone was amplified by her voice bouncing off the white plastic table. “Idaho.”
Might as well be a world away to a seventh-grade girl who finally had a place she wanted to be.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Rae rubbed Taylor’s back the way Hannie had rubbed hers the other night. “Is there any chance things might change?”
“When Mom says it’s time to go, we go.” Taylor sighed. “At least she’s letting me finish school first.”
Rae was proud of what Taylor had accomplished in just a few short weeks. Every grade that had been a D or F was now a C. She’d aced her last math test. What would happen to her in Idaho? Without a program like Community Hope, would there be anyone to keep a kid like Taylor from failing out of school?
“When I grow up, I’m going to buy my own house.” Taylor lifted her head and looked at Rae. “And I’ll never move again.”
“If you want to buy a house, you’ll have to get a good job.”
“So?”
“So if you want a good job, you’ll have to finish school.”
Taylor hung her head. “I hate school.”
“I know. But promise me you’ll finish school and buy that house so I can come visit you.”
Taylor groaned.
“Promise me.”
“Fine.” Taylor sighed. “I promise.”
Mark called out the end of the session, and Rae helped Taylor pack up her things, keeping one eye out for David. She couldn’t let him leave without her.
As Taylor scooted out the door, Rae called after her, “See you next week.”
Taylor waved.
Mark stood by the door and smiled at Rae. “You’re good
