John?”
“She said to give him time,” Rachel said softly. “I insisted I wanted to speak with you because I’m worried about him. I care about the kinner in my class.”
“I’m worried about him too,” Mike said. “But like Malinda said, it’s going to take time. You can’t expect him to be the perfect scholar when it’s his first week in a new school. If the kinner irritate you, then maybe you need to find another job.” He started toward the door. “I don’t have time for this. I’d like to actually get home before seven tonight.”
Mike wrenched open the shop door, and the sounds of hammers banging and saw blades whirling filled the hallway. The heaviness of sawdust, the pungent odor of stain, and the sweet aroma of wood washed over her.
“Wait!” Rachel called. “We need to discuss how to help John.”
Mike let the door shut with a loud bang. When he faced her, his face twisted with a grimace. “I really don’t have time for a lecture, Rachel. I’ve already told you. I’m busy.”
He stepped over to her and stood so close that she could smell his scent—soap mixed with sawdust. He seemed larger than life as he glared down at her, and she suddenly felt like a small child gazing up at an angry parent.
“You seem to think I’ve been deliberately ignoring your notes and voice mail messages because I don’t care about my bruder or his bad behavior,” Mike began, pointing at her. “The truth is, I’m working myself to death, trying to support my dat and my bruder . I work long hours here, building wishing wells and lighthouses for English customers. I’m doing my best to keep the business mei dat and his bruder built running and thriving along with my cousin. I’m thankful two of my cousins help take care of the haus and cook the meals while I’m at work. When I get home, my cousins leave, and I take care of my dat, who can’t even walk to the bathroom alone because he’s so ill and frail. He has fallen so many times that I have taken to sleeping on the sofa so I can be close-by if he needs me. And when I say I sleep on the sofa, I mean I toss and turn all night long and wake up with back pain.
“When I’m not caring for my dat , I’m trying to be a mamm and a dat to mei bruder . I read stories to him at night and try to come up with answers when he asks me why he doesn’t have a dat who can walk or why his mamm died.”
Rachel gasped as tears pricked her eyes. “Mike, I—”
“Wait.” Mike held up his hand to quiet her. “I’m not done. You want to know if John gets enough attention at home?” He nearly spat the bitter words at her. “Well, maybe he doesn’t get enough attention. Maybe I should spend more time with him, asking him how he feels about not having a mamm and living with a dat who can’t play games outside and help us with our chores. All I can tell you is I do the best I can. I try to show him I love him and that our dat loves him. Maybe I’m distracted, and maybe I’m too busy, but I am only one person trying to carry the load for three of us.” He held up three fingers. “I’m under a whole lot of pressure, more than most men my age.”
Rachel cleared her throat in hopes of alleviating the lump that swelled there. She longed to take back her accusations and heated words, but her shame stole her speech as she stared up at him.
“So when you ask me why I haven’t responded to your notes,” Mike continued, his expression impassive, “the truth is I’ve forgotten to because I’ve been busy.” He snatched the journal from her hand and held it up in front of her. “The reason why my one note was so short was because I was so exhausted I couldn’t think of what to say. My cousin said the note would upset you, but I was honestly too worn out to be concerned about it.”
Rachel wiped away a tear with her trembling hand. “I had no idea you had so much to deal with.” Her voice was soft and shaky. “I didn’t realize how difficult your
“She said to give him time,” Rachel said softly. “I insisted I wanted to speak with you because I’m worried about him. I care about the kinner in my class.”
“I’m worried about him too,” Mike said. “But like Malinda said, it’s going to take time. You can’t expect him to be the perfect scholar when it’s his first week in a new school. If the kinner irritate you, then maybe you need to find another job.” He started toward the door. “I don’t have time for this. I’d like to actually get home before seven tonight.”
Mike wrenched open the shop door, and the sounds of hammers banging and saw blades whirling filled the hallway. The heaviness of sawdust, the pungent odor of stain, and the sweet aroma of wood washed over her.
“Wait!” Rachel called. “We need to discuss how to help John.”
Mike let the door shut with a loud bang. When he faced her, his face twisted with a grimace. “I really don’t have time for a lecture, Rachel. I’ve already told you. I’m busy.”
He stepped over to her and stood so close that she could smell his scent—soap mixed with sawdust. He seemed larger than life as he glared down at her, and she suddenly felt like a small child gazing up at an angry parent.
“You seem to think I’ve been deliberately ignoring your notes and voice mail messages because I don’t care about my bruder or his bad behavior,” Mike began, pointing at her. “The truth is, I’m working myself to death, trying to support my dat and my bruder . I work long hours here, building wishing wells and lighthouses for English customers. I’m doing my best to keep the business mei dat and his bruder built running and thriving along with my cousin. I’m thankful two of my cousins help take care of the haus and cook the meals while I’m at work. When I get home, my cousins leave, and I take care of my dat, who can’t even walk to the bathroom alone because he’s so ill and frail. He has fallen so many times that I have taken to sleeping on the sofa so I can be close-by if he needs me. And when I say I sleep on the sofa, I mean I toss and turn all night long and wake up with back pain.
“When I’m not caring for my dat , I’m trying to be a mamm and a dat to mei bruder . I read stories to him at night and try to come up with answers when he asks me why he doesn’t have a dat who can walk or why his mamm died.”
Rachel gasped as tears pricked her eyes. “Mike, I—”
“Wait.” Mike held up his hand to quiet her. “I’m not done. You want to know if John gets enough attention at home?” He nearly spat the bitter words at her. “Well, maybe he doesn’t get enough attention. Maybe I should spend more time with him, asking him how he feels about not having a mamm and living with a dat who can’t play games outside and help us with our chores. All I can tell you is I do the best I can. I try to show him I love him and that our dat loves him. Maybe I’m distracted, and maybe I’m too busy, but I am only one person trying to carry the load for three of us.” He held up three fingers. “I’m under a whole lot of pressure, more than most men my age.”
Rachel cleared her throat in hopes of alleviating the lump that swelled there. She longed to take back her accusations and heated words, but her shame stole her speech as she stared up at him.
“So when you ask me why I haven’t responded to your notes,” Mike continued, his expression impassive, “the truth is I’ve forgotten to because I’ve been busy.” He snatched the journal from her hand and held it up in front of her. “The reason why my one note was so short was because I was so exhausted I couldn’t think of what to say. My cousin said the note would upset you, but I was honestly too worn out to be concerned about it.”
Rachel wiped away a tear with her trembling hand. “I had no idea you had so much to deal with.” Her voice was soft and shaky. “I didn’t realize how difficult your
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