Bring Me Home for Christmas (Virgin River #16)(51)

Becca would never put a little girl who was waiting for the bathroom at the end of the line if she was wiggling! That’s just asking for it! “Can’t you excuse yourself to the bathroom whenever you need to?” Becca asked. “Raise your hand? Ask permission?”

Maron shrugged again. “Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

She sighed. “We have bathroom breaks every hour. If you don’t take the break when it’s time to, you can color or paint or talk quietly, but then you have to wait for the next time. And then there’s no talking, playing, pushing or laughing in line…or else. Megan kept saying she really had to go.”

Becca raised her eyebrows. Nothing wrong with some rules; it was a good idea to help these little ones establish their own limits and boundaries. But dangling “playtime” if they pass on the bathroom break was too tempting.

“I bet Mrs. Anderson felt really bad about the accident.”

“I think the whole class always makes her feel bad,” Maron said. She shook her head, then went back to copying her spelling words.

Can’t get much by kids, Becca thought. It seemed pretty obvious that this particular teacher was not a happy person.

After the children had gone home for the day, Becca made her way down to Denny’s efficiency. Inside, she heard the shower running. She picked up the phone and called her mother.

“Remember that teacher I had in fifth grade?” she asked. “Was her name Mrs. Anderson?”

“No,” Beverly said, laughing. “Johnson, I think. I’m not sure I remember, but I’ll never forget her face.”

“Me, either. One of my little girls has a teacher who sounds so much like that. Very punishing, very unhappy, thrilled when you screw up. Her teacher kept pushing her to the back of the bathroom line because she was wiggling too much and she had an accident.”

Beverly gasped.

“This little girl has had such a hard year. Her dad was injured in a logging accident, lost his arm and his job, and the family is struggling. You’d think she could cut her a little slack.”

“Is the little girl awfully upset?”

“She didn’t come to our homework session so I guess the answer is probably yes. And you know what came to mind? I was in tears most of fifth grade, believing the teacher hated me, believing I’d never make it to sixth grade. I was miserable, and I didn’t even have a troubled home life! I had every advantage, and I was destroyed.”

“But here’s what you did have, Becca—the best sixth-grade teacher in the world, Mrs. Dallas. We met with her before school started and explained how hard your fifth grade was. By the very look in her eyes, she wasn’t surprised. Everyone knew that teacher was hard to survive, but there was nothing they could do. I think Mrs. Dallas made an extra effort for you. It was not the difficult teacher that made you want to teach, it was the wonderful teacher who inspired you!”

Denny came out of the bathroom, holding a towel around his waist. He blew her a kiss then proceeded to quietly dress.

“I think she saved me,” Becca said. “You know, I’ve had some monumental brats in the past couple of years, but I wouldn’t treat the worst kid so meanly!”

Beverly laughed. “You better not, Becca. A young teacher like you—it’s so important that you focus on what you have, not on what you don’t have.”

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“You had a couple of crappy teachers, but you had way more wonderful, inspiring teachers. And if you look at your teaching career, young though it is, you’ll see that it’s been shaped by the excellent teachers. You’ve learned so much from them. You’ve become like them in so many ways. You haven’t chosen teaching out of retaliation—you chose it to be as positive an influence as you can!”

“Oh, Mom,” she said. “Thank you for saying that.”

Beverly laughed. “Just because we’ve been known to disagree, doesn’t mean I’m not proud of you, Becca. And I’m really starting to miss you, too.”

“I’ll see you soon,” Becca promised. “I’ll let you know when I’m headed that way.”

“Be careful on the snow and ice!” Beverly said.

When she hung up the phone, she found that Denny was dressed and sitting in the chair, waiting for her.

“I wasn’t eavesdropping,” he said. “Not on purpose, anyway. But I’m sorry if you’re missing your mom. If you need to go home, just tell me when. I can drive you.”

“And then I’ll miss you,” she said. “It’s no-win.”

“We have to face it, honey,” he said. “We’ve talked about everything but where we go from here.”

She straightened and paid attention.

“I don’t know what comes next for us, but whatever it is, it’s got to be me and you. Together. Forever. I want to marry you, Becca. If you want that, too, we have some things to work out. We have a geographic situation. And I think we’ve both been putting off talking about it.”

“I know,” she said very softly.

“I have two jobs and a good opportunity here, Becca. Maybe you could give it a try, since you don’t have a job to go back to in San Diego. You could probably find a good teaching job somewhere around here if you want to, but if not, I can support you. And since good jobs are real hard to find in this economy, I shouldn’t give up two paychecks. Remember, I don’t have a degree.”