Read Online Drummer Boy by Toni Sheridan - Free Book Online

‘a drum for all seasons’?”
    “No, but that’d be a good one.” He unzipped his jacket and looked down at his stomach, keeping the picture hidden from view. “Try again?”
    “Parum pum.”
    He laughed and a petite red-haired woman looked at him censoriously. He lowered his volume a tad. “No, but I actually do have one like that. It says ‘Little Drummer Boy’ really small across the top and has a cartoon guy waving his sticks madly. Am I that predictable?”
    “Nah, you just wear your obsessions on your chest, so everybody and their dog knows what to get you for Christmas and birthdays.”
    “You got that right,” said Tim. “It’s an off year if I don’t score at least two new shirts. Now lean in.”
    Jane peeked into his jacket as bidden. Tim’s army green shirt featured a tough-looking cowboy yelling at a little bow-legged guy who stood shamefaced in front of a set of red drums. A speech bubble above the angry cowboy’s head read, “I said it was time to pull out the big guns. Big guns. ”
    “Heh!” Jane said.
    “You may be the only woman who’s ever appreciated my t-shirts properly.”
    Jane smirked. “What can I say? You work so hard to drum up compliments.”
    Tim groaned, and then they were inside, being ushered to the fireside room—a large meeting room on a separate floor from the sanctuary, used for special events.
     
    ****
     
    The tea was very polished and went off smoothly, but that was the best thing Jane could say about it. Something about the event felt contrived and when the guest speaker got all choked up, and waved her hand over her face, stuttering, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—I’m just so moved by these young people,” before she started her speech, Jane felt like a bad person, but all she could think was that the woman seemed fake. Like she was making a show of how much she cared. Jane also resented the plug for various local businesses. This was supposed to be about a group of nine kids who’d been clean for a year—not about coupons to buy junk at a discount.
    Seeing Sarah at the end made the whole thing worth it, however. She was radiant in an old-fashioned dress and striped leggings, eyes huge beneath her raven-wing hair, cheeks flushed a deep rosy pink, when she stepped up to accept a big bouquet of mixed flowers. She dipped her head in small curtsey. “I’d like to say a special thank you to my mom, to my Uncle Tim, and to my friend, Jane. Mom, for not giving up on me. Tim, for being whatever I need him to be, whenever I need him and Jane, for being the kind of person I want to be.”
    Jane was touched and gave a little wave.
    “So what could you possibly do to gain such undying gratitude and respect from our Miss Sarah?” Tim whispered, leaning in close to her.
    Jane shrugged and tried not to feel stung.
    His eyes were warm and friendly, so what kind of comment was that?
    “I don’t have the foggiest.”
    “That’s what I thought,” he said and then went quiet as each of the other eight kids said a few words.
    Ouch.
    “So you think she’s doing all right?” Jane asked on their way out of the building after they’d said good-bye to Sarah and congratulated her once more.
    “Who? Sarah?”
    “Who else?”
    Tim started the car and let it idle. “I think,” he started. “I think…she’s doing well, yeah. Maybe better than most of us, but life’s a forest. You can be on a good path, but you’re never fully out of the woods, and you’re safer when you don’t forget it.”
    “I’m worried that she’s too sunshine and roses. I want to believe God’s healed her as miraculously as He’s seemed to, but—
    “It seems too good to be true, maybe? Like she’s still putting on a persona instead of facing the things that eat at her?”
    “Yeah.”
    Tim drummed his steering wheel with both hands.
    Jane was sure the movement was unconscious and it made her smile.
    The guy fidgeted almost as much as she did.
    Finally, he turned to look at her.