A Storybook Finish (4 page)

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brand-new, thousand-page textbooks? Or loads of paper to

print up all those quizzes and tests? Maybe even a new

video system to watch endless movies on the signing of the

Declaration of Independence.”

Smiles decorated every face. Lindsay loved the students’

reactions to her comments. In many ways she felt like an

actress in a stage production, only this was more enjoyable.

She entered the next phase of the presentation, the prize program.

There she showed off radios, mugs, banks and stuffed

animals they could earn. “And I’m sure you football players

would just love to cuddle up with a little bear.”

Groans met her ears.

“Oh, and I can’t forget my furry friends who have something

special to say about every subject.” Lindsay held up several

fur-covered Silly Slammers that shouted humorous

sayings when they came in contact with a solid object. I hear

that when you get back to your history class Mr. Wheeler is

going to give you that surprise quiz. So what do you think of

that, Slammie?”

She threw one of the furry slammers to the ground. An

exclamation of”Oh, no!” echoed throughout the auditorium.

Lindsay then tossed another Slammer with huge red lips to a

muscular boy. The loud noise of a kiss erupted. The students

roared with laughter.

Finally, may I introduce you to my friend Goofy. When

you are waiting for a call from that long lost love—Troy and

Jewel know what I mean—and the phone rings to announce

your dream come true, guess whom you hear instead?” She

pressed the start button, and Goofy’s voice echoed throughout

the auditorium, to the laughter of the student body.

“There you have it, gang! So let’s do our share for the senior

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class and make this the best prom ever in the history of

Western High.”

A round of applause completed the presentation. Lindsay

handed out the brochures to the students who filed past her

display, looking over the different prizes they could earn.

When the assembly concluded and the students left for their

classes, Lindsay busied herself with packing up the prizes.

She was pleased with the positive response to the program,

despite the rocky beginning.

Jewel strode up to Lindsay after the assembly, a frown

etched on her once cheerful face. Lindsay thanked her for her

support and offered her a class key chain as a gift, all the

while wondering about her sadness.

“Thanks,” she said. “I just wish what you said would come

true.”

Lindsay stepped back, caught off guard by the remark.

“What do you mean? I know I joked around a little, but—”

“I mean about Troy calling me and telling me I’m his dream

come true. I wish he would.”

“Jewel, you’re young. There’s plenty of time for a relationship.

Don’t take it too fast.”

“We’ve been friends since grade school. I’ve loved him for

years.” She bent her head. Golden-brown ringlets cascaded

around her shoulders. “He only thinks of me as a playmate.”

Lindsay stood for a moment, still holding a Silly Slammer

in one hand, before turning to stuff the item into the duffel

bag. “Tell you what? Are you doing anything after school?”

“Just homework. Why?”

“Well, there’s that greasy spoon–er, that diner–down on

Hickory Street. The one with the big neon sign. Why don’t

you meet me there after school lets out, and we can talk?”

33

Jewel lifted her face and stared at Lindsay with her flaming

green eyes. “Really? Wow, thanks.”

“Sure, no problem. And give this to Troy.” Lindsay handed

her another key chain before Jewel scurried up the aisle. She

watched Troy and Jewel examine their key chains, speaking

words she could not hear. Jewel then turned and gave her a

smile. Lindsay sighed. There was much more to this job than

acting up in front of the student body. Many of these young

people needed some single-minded attention. She nodded,

excited that God might be able to use her in Jewel’s life.

Suddenly, a loud “Ahem” echoed in her ear. Lindsay whirled

to find Jeff Wheeler staring down at her with his piercing

blue eyes.

“I guess you find it effective to abuse the teacher in your.

presentation?”

Lindsay sucked in her breath, preparing for an onslaught of

harsh words. Instead, she caught a twinkle in his eye. Could

the day’s start have put a crack in that rock solid heart of his?

“I must say, your presentation was quite unusual. Where do

you come up with the punch lines—like selling the can of

Spam or the mug shot of me on a T-shirt?” He appeared

ready to chuckle out loud but pressed his lips together.

“They teach you different techniques in sales school for

getting the students’ attention,” she said, fumbling to place a

leftover packet of team charts back in the crate.

“You seemed to have them eating out of your hand. If I

could get that kind of response during my classes, everyone

would get A’s. Then again history isn’t exactly a good time to

be a stand-up comedian.”

“Maybe that’s why I never liked history much.” Lindsay felt

the heat rise in her cheeks. How could she have made such a

35 comment to a history teacher, and having just kicked off his

program too? “That is to say, I didn’t have a very good

teacher,” she added quickly. “He would just stand there in

front of the class and read out loud from a textbook. There

were no visuals, no guest speakers, no field trips, nothing.”

She turned and packed up the rest of the crates, feeling

warmer by the second. For all she knew, Jeff Wheeler might

have a similar teaching style. Two insults in two minutes did

not bode well for an already strained customer relationship.

“I like visuals and field trips,” he answered, to her relief.

“That’s why I need this fundraiser. There’s a lot more at

stake than just the junior prom, you know. Everything I have

planned rests on it.” He whistled a sigh that illustrated his

desperation.

For the first time, Lindsay could see beyond the hardened

image of Jeff Wheeler to a man who had a load of responsibility

resting on his shoulders. “Just encourage the students

every day in your class, Mr. Wheeler,” she said earnestly. “Run

the prize program. Phone in your first day’s totals, and we’ll

see if we need to boost the prizes. Keep a thermometer chart

as I showed you, and remind them of the project each day.”

Without a word, he headed up the aisle and toward the exit.

Lindsay stood there, staring at her mountain of stuff, wondering

if any of this was worth the effort. Only time would tell.

36 From the dingy exterior to the overgrown bushes, the

Hickory Diner was nothing to write home about. Lindsay

parked the car across the street from the place and stared at

the flashing neon sign that blinked the word Food. She

chuckled to herself, wondering what else the place would

serve if it didn’t serve food. She rose out of her car and stuffed

the keys inside her purse. Several people shuffled into the

establishment where she used to hang out with Ron so long

ago. She could still feel the strength of his arms curled around

her, cradling her close, as they walked into a place where the

smell of oil assaulted their nostrils.

Lindsay walked inside. Little had changed since her high

school years. The booths were still the same red plastic, the

linoleum floors milky and the countertops even more so.

Waitresses, clad in their pressed blue uniforms, shuffled

among the customers, carrying trays loaded with food that

would turn anyone’s thighs into barrels. Lindsay knew she

shouldn’t order anything, but the large chocolate shake in a

frosted glass and the heaping plate of French fries that spilled

over onto the tray looked very tempting. She slid into a seat

and waited for Jewel.

Along the counter on revolving stools sat customers of various

ages, eating their food. One held a huge burger in his

hands. Another dipped French fries methodically into a puddle

of ketchup on his plate. At the far end, a young woman

37 slurped down a soda while talking furiously to a guy holding

another of the diner’s famous greasy hamburgers. They all

seemed so young to her. Either that or she was getting old.

Lindsay shook her head. She was young too. Never been married

and, right now, no real love relationship. She had her

whole life ahead of her. A mere eight years ago, she would

have been the young woman at the counter, talking to the guy

holding the hamburger. Ron would turn to her, lower the

burger to his plate, and tell her that all her questions would be

answered at Lovers’ Lane.

“Excuse me? Hello?”

Lindsay looked up from her daydreaming to find a familiar

face. His eyes were blue, his face rigid, and his lips pressed

together as if in disgust. Oh, no. It can’t be.

“I can’t believe I ran into you. I guess this is my lucky day.”

Lindsay gaped at him, unable to believe her ears. She was

grateful not to have eaten anything, or it would have lodged

in her throat and caused a fit. “Mr. Wheeler!”

“I need more brochures. I ran out of them soon after you

left. Most of the students took several.”

“I have more in my car.” Lindsay rose and headed for the

car with JeffWheeler trailing behind.

“How long have you been doing this fundraising bit anyway?”

he asked.

“Five years. My car’s parked right over there.”

“Five years? I never would’ve guessed it. You seem pretty

new at this.”

Lindsay fought to keep a retort buried within. Only yesterday

she’d received a comment card from a sponsor, praising

her abilities as a fundraiser. This guy has no idea what he’s

talking about. “Actually many of the teachers I work with are quite

“To be honest, I’m pretty skeptical about this whole fundraising

deal.” He sunk his hands into the pockets of his

trousers. “It didn’t help that I dy appointed to be the role of

sponsor for the junior kids, without prior approve. I

into school on opening day to my

up on the wall, next to a list of duties. “They’ll love you,

Wheeler,” teacher said to me. you have to do is

finance the class prom, which is the gh point of the ye.

Remember that each junior class is responsible for rfising the

mon You won’t have any problem, d it be .’”

I have heard all this before, Lindsay thought, rummaging

around for the brochures. Her face began to ow when

she did not find any in crate.

Jeff continued. “So I went ead d held a meeg th

e class ocers, asng em for ide about rfising money.

Of course, I ew absolutely noing. Teaching American

history is what I do best. recommended I coect dues

from eve sdent. He paused.

When Ldsay lood up, he stng offinto space.

“I ced assembly of the entire class, as you d today. I

don’t md teaching sdents at a time, but tng to

keep the attention of two hundred is pure insanity. I told

them why we needed the money and asked them for dues.

Guess what happened?”

I can’t begin to imagine. Lindsay oed sently. “Yes, Mr.

Wheeler?” She moved to e re of e c, hoping she had

cked oer paget ofbroches benea e pri b.

“een showed up e class dues. een out of

38 two hundred students. I knew right then I needed help raising

the money. There you have it.” He walked to the rear of

the car and peered inside. “Did you find those brochures?”

“I’m sure I have them somewhere.” She winced, wishing

she had not made the comment audible. She didn’t need to

display ineptness. She opened the prize bag and tossed toys

around, when a loud kissing sound erupted from the Silly

Slammer with the huge red lips.

JeffWheeler leapt back as if he were struck. Lindsay bit her

lip in dismay. If things were not embarrassing enough. …

At last she found a packet and turned to give it to him, only

to find he had retreated down the sidewalk. He shook his

head. His fingers dug into his pockets as if he were trying to

crawl away inside them.

Oh, no! Lindsay groaned. Does he honestly think I made the

sound?

“I guess Lady Silly Slammer is up to her old tricks again,”

she said hastily. She handed him the brochure packet.

“Was that one of your prizes?”

“Yes,” she said, adding silently, You didn’t really think I would

be making lip noises at you, toad of Western High.

He took the packet without a word and spun around on his

heel. Lindsay watched him go, amazed by his sudden silence

after all the tongue flapping he had done. Why had the sound

of kissing from a Silly Slammer caused such a reaction?

Surely he didn’t think that— Oh, get it out of your head,

Lindsay, ol’ girl.

After she locked the car and headed for the diner, she

found Jewel striding up to the restaurant, accompanied by

a brawny guy. A large tattoo was prominently displayed on

his arm, which he had planted firmly around her. Lindsay

39 squinted, quite certain the boy wasn’t Troy. Either that

Troy had eaten spinach for lunch and now spoked hue muscles

th anchor taboos, he Pope2 the Sorman.

“H, ewd,” ndsy sd th

“He.” Sh2 cked a strand of hair behind on˘ ˘ar and

slowly sfipped out of the y’s asp. “Robbie, I goa go.”

“See you later, Jewel.” He gave her a and sauntered

off, long a notebook in e r. e paper fluered as it

saed back into his hands. Out of e notebook flew one of

the brochures handed out that morning in Lindsay’s nd

rsing presentation. It came to rest in e street.

Lindsay blew out a sigh. ere was one less student seng.

She must have ibited a sge expression on her face,

for Jewel shook her head and sd, “It not what you thi

Robbie and I e oy iends. His morn d my mom work

in e same facto so we ow each oer.”

“Sure, no problem.” But I can tell you r a ct, that y is

eyeing you the way Bms did Olive

“Hey, was that Mr. Wheeler I saw standing by your car?”

Jewel asked, stepping through the door Lindsay held open.

The aroma of fried onions wafted ough e . A wtress

hurried by with a huge basket of onion rings like large,

golden, eing hoops and a mug of soda.

Lindsay was amazed Jewel could see from that distance,

especiy whBe being manhandled by Robbie, a.Ea. Brains.

“He needed more brochures for the se, which is a good

thing. That means the students e enthusiastic.” Except for

Brains, who let s broe f into e street.

“I’m gonna se ‘ I get at Goo phone you mentioned.

I’m gonna get it, pk it right by my bed, and wt for Troy to

c d te me he loves me.” Jewel sat down in the seat across