Save My Soul

Jefferson High's New Student [7]

7.

The next morning, Lillian calls just as I’m shrugging into my coat, rubbing blearily at my sleep-creased eyes.

“Lizzie? How are you this morning, love?” she asks, and I can’t help but smile.

Last night, Lillian and I talked for what felt like hours. I kept dropping off to sleep but she never hung up on me. Every time I woke with a jerk, saying, “Lillian?” she would say “I’m still here, honey.” I finally told her that I was going to go, but only because I felt bad and I knew her kids needed her. Before I went, Lillian asked if she could pray with me. I said yes.

She prayed that I would be comforted, that peace would overwhelm me so that I would be able to get rest. She prayed that God would protect and keep me, and that He would reach me in my dark hour. When she said amen, I opened my eyes and the darkness of my empty house seemed softer somehow. As if, for the first time, I wasn’t totally alone; as if there was somebody there watching over me. I didn’t say anything though because I was afraid I was imagining it – and besides, I didn’t think I believed in that sort of stuff.

Before saying goodbye, Lillian said that she wanted to call me in the morning because she wanted to talk about Jamie and school stuff. I went up to bed and fell asleep within minutes – something that never happens. I usually have to paint or listen to music in order to tire myself out.

Strangely, I haven’t actually touched my paints since Thursday night… another bit of weirdness.

“I’m okay. I was on my way out to school.”

“Okay, so I’ll keep this quick. I talked to Jamie, and I think we’re going to enroll him in your school.”

I pause, my eyebrows lifting with surprise. “Really?”

“Yes. I told you how he’s shy, he always has such a hard time on the first day of school and –”

I hear a shout in the background, which cuts Lillian off.

“What was that?” I say.

“Well, honey, I was just being honest,” I hear Lillian call away from the phone, and then she’s quiet as whoever – it must be Jamie – continues ranting. She sighs. “No, you’re right. Okay, okay. I won’t.” Then her voice returns. “Who is this boy?!” she whispers into my ear, a note of exasperation in her tone and I giggle. She blows out a breath. “I’m not allowed to talk about him; apparently, I make him sound like a child, which is just silly since he still is one.”

I purse my lips to keep from laughing at the girlish bewilderment in her voice; she briskly changes the subject.

“Alright. Moving on. So I was thinking about driving you both to school today – then I can do the paperwork and get him situated and you can show him around. He’s going to need a friend,” she adds in a whisper. “How does that sound?”

“Uh, fine,” I say slowly, as I remember the phone debacle the night before and how he heard me freak out afterwards and it doesn’t feel completely fine, but there’s nothing I can do about it now. Lillian is talking a mile to the minute, and every other sentence is punctuated by her simultaneous conversations with her kids as she tries to get them all fed and dressed for the day. She is full of ideas, ecstatic about the prospect of carpooling, mulling over the differences in the army’s academic program compared to the typical school, and altogether too excited to allow for failure. She says she and Jim have talked about it and they both think it’s the right thing to do for Jamie, and I’m somewhat horrified (but also, strangely touched) that their decision hinged on the budding friendship between us.