Letters in Time, Reiss Susan [read me a book TXT] 📗

I laid my head back and watched the passing countryside, planning my next move with Daniel.

Chapter Twelve

“The first use of a form of the word witch was in c. 890 in the Laws of Alfred and referred to a man who practices witchcraft or magic.”

—The Oxford English Dictionary

Riding along in comfortable silence, we drove past sun-kissed fields of corn and dark green soybeans. The beginning of an idea—about the Civil War, the divided state of Maryland, and life on the plantation—started forming. It was no wonder that after so much enforced rest, my brain was ready, eager to tackle any kind of problem. I snatched a pen sitting in the center console and started making notes. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught TJ trying to steal a look at what I was writing. Not ready to share any information about Daniel, I tucked the paper into a book.

“Yes?” I asked, sounding like the teacher who’d caught a boy with his hand in the cookie jar.

“I was wondering what you’re scribbling. Something for your book?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, it is.”

“That’s good,” he said with a look of pride on his face. “I guess it helped that we went to the library. Research must be important when you’re new to novel writing.”

I bristled a little. It had been years since anyone had said I was new at something. No, that wasn’t exactly right. It had been years since I started doing something so new that I didn’t feel qualified to tackle it. Words didn’t scare me. My minor in college was English because I’d always dreamed of writing a book for children. And now was the time.

“You’re doing that thing again. Does your neck or throat hurt?”

"What?" I looked down and saw that my fingers were touching the hollow of my neck right where my necklace should have been. "No, I feel fine. It's just…" A sigh bubbled up from my toes. "Six years ago, I taught my first kindergarten class. Some of the mothers knew it was a dream come true for me. At the end of the year, the children—and their mothers—gave me a necklace with the initial "C" pendant for my last name to commemorate the event. I wore it every day." My breath caught at the memory. "Sometime between the accident, flight to shock trauma, ICU, and surgeries, the necklace disappeared and I miss it." I took a deep breath. "I guess you think it's a little childish. After all, it's only a piece of jewelry."

“No way,” TJ declared. “It celebrated a major accomplishment in your life. Knowing it was there must have reminded you of your strength and determination. That’s what has gotten you to this point.”

“And where am I? At Square One with both my writing and my walking.”  How pathetic.

He shook his head thoughtfully. “No, I wouldn't say that. You’re probably at Square Two or Three with your walking. Getting set up with the new therapists was a big step… ah, no pun intended.”

I laughed and felt grateful. Since the accident, I’d lost my sense of humor and fun. Almost constant pain and the difficulty of getting around could do that to a person.

“And what I said about being new to writing, I didn’t mean to insult you. The fact that you’ve started the work, well, you should be proud of yourself. For what it’s worth, I’m happy to support you.”

“Is that why you told Catherine to invite me to her writing group?” I conjured up an evil smile.

He winced. “I was only trying to help. There are a lot of talented and experienced people here who had amazing careers before they moved to the Shore. Some of them are still doing surprising things.”

“Do they have internet access?”

“Well, it’s funny you should mention the internet,” he said, eager to change the subject. “I checked with the telephone company and the installer may show up tomorrow afternoon.”

“That’s wonderful.” I sat up at hearing the good news. The sudden movement tweaked my leg and sent pain shooting through my body.

“Are you okay?” Worried, he pulled to the shoulder and stopped. “What can I do?”

“Nothing, nothing at all. I’ll take a pill when I get home. It’s a good thing Maria had me take one this morning before we left. I have to be more diligent about the pill schedule.”

“You’re starting a lot of new things. Don’t let it get you down. You’re on the right track.”

I covered my eyes, hoping I could hold back the tears. Then I remembered a conflict with the schedule.  “I have another P.T. appointment tomorrow.  We didn’t do a full workout session today because they needed to do evaluations. How am I going to be there for the telephone installer?” Things were getting complicated again.

“No problem. That’s why you have Maria. I’ll let her know after I take you back to the Cottage.”

“Thank you,” I whispered as I leaned my head back and considered this farmer/ handyman/philosopher. “Do you think you might be able to take me tomorrow again?” One of the hardest things for me to do was to ask for help.

"Sure, I have to check out a few things, but I can do that on the way back if you don't mind a detour?"

“It’s an early appointment.” I decided to push my luck. “Think we could go by the library again, please?”

He looked over at me. His eyes crinkled as he smiled. "Is this what it's like spending time with a budding writer?"

I gave him a shrug with one shoulder. “I guess.”

“It depends how early this early appointment is.