River's End (River's End Series, #1)(66)

She was annoyed when she finished and had nothing to do. It meant she had to return her focus on them again. On Jack. Or on Charlie’s adoring gaze at the woman he, no doubt, was picturing as his next mother. Erin slid into the chair beside Ben. Jack was watching her. She hated the blush that warmed her cheeks and the awkwardness she felt.

Eventually, Charlie lost interest and got onto the floor to play with his Matchbox cars. Someone mentioned something, although Erin wasn’t following the conversation with any great interest. Whoever it was said that Allison did volunteer work at the local library, tutoring adults two nights a week. Great. Not only was she a teacher to young, impressionable kids, she volunteered her time too. Erin nearly rolled her eyes at the goody-two-shoes Charlie selected, and probably made a wise choice as his father’s date.

“Well, why couldn’t you tutor Erin?”

Erin’s head jerked up as she crashed-landed back into the moment after hearing Ben’s statement. He sat up straighter and suddenly grew animated as Allison waited to respond. “You could teach Erin to read, couldn’t you? If you teach other adults?”

Erin’s mouth dropped open and she felt all eyes turning towards her. She met the big, blue, caring eyes of Allison. “That’s right. I could. That is, if you had such an interest, Erin.”

She looked down. How dare they? “I don’t think so, Ms. Gray.”

The table went silent and Erin dared not look up until she heard Jack’s voice.

“Why not? Why couldn’t you?”

She jerked her face up. Jack was impatiently staring at her. “Because I can’t learn. I already told you that.”

“Are you dyslexic?”

Erin glared at Allison. “I’m not dyslexic. I’m perfectly normal. I just can’t read.”

Silence followed her outburst. Ben looked at her strangely, wondering why wouldn’t she want to learn? How could they understand what it was like to be as stupid as she was? She couldn’t learn. Many people had already tried and never succeeded. She didn’t see letters backwards, or upside-down, but neither could she seem to grasp the simple concept required to read a sentence.

“Maybe you never had the right teacher.”

“Sometimes, people are just stupid, Ms. Gray.”

Jack’s voice interrupted her. “Stop it. You’re not stupid. It’s only stupid if you don’t try. Give me one good reason why you couldn’t at least try?”

She looked up and found him staring directly at her with his brow furrowed. He couldn’t understand what it was like to be stupid. There was nothing Jack couldn’t do. Whatever he attempted to do, he merely invested some effort in, and voila. It was done. Like raising two kids alone, or taking care of his family’s business and making it thrive while he looked after his younger brothers. He could do anything or be anything he set out to be. He was strong, confident, and smart. He knew he could handle anything he encountered because he already handled it all. He could never understand what it was like being Erin. Being considered weak. And stupid. Or the joke of the classroom.

Allison spoke before Erin could answer. She looked uneasily at Jack, then said to Erin, “I apologize, Erin, if I made you feel uncomfortable. Charlie actually suggested I talk to you. He had a lot of questions about reading and wanted to know if I could teach kids younger than he, why couldn’t I teach you? I really thought it was you asking through Charlie.”

Erin glanced over to where Charlie played so sweetly on the floor. His lips moved as he made car “vrooming” sounds. He asked his teacher to help her? That’s the reason he invited her to dinner tonight?

“Charlie really asked you about teaching me?”

Allison nodded. “I figured you were dyslexic. But if you’re not, it won’t take you that long to learn. I swear to you, Erin, I won’t make you feel stupid. It’s won’t be like when you were in school. I can’t imagine it was easy for you.”

She didn’t like knowing that Allison could read her. Or what kind of girl Erin was in school.

“I didn’t graduate.”

“Neither did many of the adults I currently work with. You’d be surprised how many there are. You aren’t alone. And you aren’t stupid. Look, this is a lot of pressure. I really thought that Charlie’s request originally came from you. I definitely see now, however, that it didn’t. But that doesn’t change my willingness to help you. So I’ll leave you my number, and please call me, Erin, if you decide later that you’d like my help.”

“I don’t have any money,” Erin replied finally. It was as her last excuse for why she couldn’t possibly accept the woman’s offer.

“I don’t need your money. I would do it for free, pro bono.”

Erin crossed her arms over her chest. “Why? Why would you do it for free?”

She smiled. “For one, because it’s the decent thing to do. But also, it’s part of the volunteer work I do. Most people who can’t read don’t have good paying jobs, therefore they don’t have access to finding help out there. A vicious cycle, if you will. So you see, you really aren’t alone.”

She wasn’t? Allison’s words started a crack in the wall she kept around herself to shelter her from the ridicule of a literate world. The world of mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters who cared about you. She felt ridiculous tears building up in her eyes and gulped back the tightening in her throat. She stared down at her shoes in order to avoid crying in front of Allison. And Jack.