Once in a Lifetime (19 page)

Mrs. Curtis's apartment in the school was tidy and small, like the woman herself. It was filled with attractive Early American antiques she had bought herself, and there were paintings of the landscape of New Hampshire. There was a vase of fresh flowers on a low table, and a hooked rug she had bought in an antique shop in Boston. It looked like a schoolteacher's house somehow, but it had an added warmth and some of her things were lovely. Most of all it was inviting. Daphne looked around, like everything else about the school, this was familiar to her. Helen Curtis looked around too this time, almost with nostalgia, but Daphne didn't notice.

She poured them each a cup of tea in her tiny separate kitchen, and she handed Daphne a delicate flowered Spode cup with a little lace napkin. "Well, what's on your mind, my dear? Something about Andrew?"

"Yes, indirectly." She decided to get right to the point. "I've had an offer to do a movie. Comstock Studios want to buy Apache, which is very nice. It would mean my being in Los Angeles for about a year. And I just don't think I can do it."

"Why not?" The older woman looked both pleased and surprised.

"What about Andrew?"

"What about him? Would you want to put him in a school there?" At this, Mrs. Curtis looked troubled. She knew that for the moment, change would still be difficult for him. Howarth had been his home for a long time, and he would suffer.

"I think a school out there would be too much of a change for him. No, if I went, I'd leave him here. But he'd feel so deserted."

"Not if you explained it to him properly. No more than any child his age. You could tell him that it's for your work, and that it's only for a while. He could fly out to see you, we could put him on the plane, or would you be coming back here?"

"Probably not very often. From what I understand, once a movie gets going it's almost impossible to get away. But do you really think he could come out?"

"I don't see why not." She looked gentle and kind as she set down her cup of tea. "He's getting older, Daphne, he's not a baby anymore, and he's acquired a great many skills that will help him. Has he ever been on a plane before?" Daphne shook her head. "He'd probably love it."

"You don't think the whole experience would be too hard for him? He wouldn't see me as often as he does now."

"You know, most of the other parents don't visit as often as you do. You're fortunate that you can come up, most of the other parents can't, they have husbands and other children, jobs that tie them down ... you and Andrew are very lucky."

"And if I go?"

"He'll adjust. He'll have to."

It would be so damn hard leaving Andrew. She felt so terribly guilty. "I know it won't be easy at first, but it might do you both good. It could be a marvelous experience for you. How soon would you leave?"

"Very soon. Within the month."

"That still gives you plenty of time to prepare him." And then she sighed and looked at her young friend. She had grown very fond of Daphne over the years, the girl had such guts and such a gentle way about her. Both of those qualities showed up in her books, it was a most appealing combination. "I'm afraid I haven't had as much of a chance to prepare you."

"Prepare me for what?" Daphne looked blank, her mind still full of the decision of whether or not to leave Andrew and go to Los Angeles.

"I'm leaving the school, Daphne. I'm retiring."

"You are?" Daphne felt a rock fall through her heart. She had a hard time with change herself, and losing people she cared for. "But why?" The silver-haired woman laughed softly.

"Thank you for asking. I would think the reason showed. I'm getting old, Daphne. It's time for me to go home, and leave Howarth to someone younger, more dynamic."

"But how awful!"

"It won't be awful at all. It'll be better for the school. Daphne, I'm an old lady."

"You are not!" She looked incensed.

"I am. I'm sixty-two. That's old enough. And I don't want to wait until I'm so old that you all have to shove me out of here in a wheelchair. Trust me, it's time."

"But you haven't been sick...." Daphne looked like a child about to lose her mother ... the way Andrew would feel when she told him. And how could she leave him now with Mrs. Curtis leaving too? He would feel as though everyone he knew were deserting him. Daphne looked at her almost in despair. "Who will take your place? As though anyone could."

"Don't be so sure. The woman I succeeded thought she couldn't be replaced, and fifteen years later no one even remembers her. That's only right. The school is only as strong as the people who lead it, and you want those people to be young and strong and filled with new ideas. There's a wonderful man taking over for this year. He runs the New York School for the Deaf now, and he's taking leave for a year to see how we do things here. He's been running the New York School for eight years and feels he needs some fresh ideas so he doesn't get stale. In fact, you'll meet him. He'll be here tomorrow. He's been coming up during the week to get acquainted."

"Won't that make too many changes for the children?"

"I don't think so. Our board of directors was comfortable with him. His tenure is for one year. Matthew Dane is extremely well thought of in our field. In fact, last year I gave you a book written by him. He's written three. So you'll have that in common." Daphne remembered the book, and she had thought it made a great deal of sense. But still ... "I'll introduce you to him tomorrow." And then with a gentle smile she stood up. "And if you'll forgive me for being overly maternal, I think you need a good night's sleep. You're looking awfully tired."

With that Daphne walked toward her and did something she had never done before, she put her arms around her and hugged her. "Weil miss you, Mrs. Curtis."

There were tears in her eyes as she stood back from Daphne's arms. "I'll miss you too. But I'll come to visit often."

Daphne left her then and drove to the familiar little inn, where Mrs. Obermeier showed her her room and left her with a thermos of hot chocolate and a plate of cookies. People liked Daphne in the town, she was a celebrity they knew, and a woman they respected. There were those who remembered John, and they liked seeing her strolling along with Andrew. To them, she was extremely human.

She climbed into bed with a yawn, poured herself a cup of chocolate, and finished it with a dreamy look on her face. Suddenly so much was changing. She turned off the light and put her head down on the large fluffy pillow, and five minutes later she was asleep. She didn't even move in the bed until the sun streamed in the windows in the morning.

On Saturday morning, after breakfast at the inn, Daphne arrived at the school in time to watch the children play tag in the garden. Andrew was laughing and playing with his friends and he hardly noticed her arrive as she watched him. There was none of the clinging and desperation she had always envisioned there would be If she left him. He understood their lives now, as well as she did, sometimes better. She almost wondered sometimes what it would be like for him when he finally left the school. He would be so lonely without the constant companionship of other children. It was something that worried her at times, when she thought of the far-off day when he would be ready to come home. But by then he would be older, and life would be different. He would have his studies and new friends, hearing children, not just children like him.

She stood looking around for a while then, unconsciously waiting for Mrs. Curtis, to continue their conversation of the night before. But when she saw her again, she was deeply engrossed in a conversation with a tall, lanky, good-looking man with a boyish smile, and she found herself staring at him. He looked vaguely familiar. Mrs. Curtis turned then and caught her eye and motioned her toward them.

"Daphne, I'd like you to meet our new director, Matthew Dane. Matthew, this is Andrew's mother, Miss Fields." In the years of her success, the Mrs. had somehow become Miss, even here.

Daphne held out a hand to meet him, but the look in her eyes changed slightly, from welcome to questioning glance. "It's nice to meet you. I enjoyed your last book."

He smiled at the compliment, a broad boyish grin that made him seem younger than his forty years. "I've enjoyed all of yours."

"You've read them?" She looked both pleased and surprised and he was amused.

"Along with about ten million other people, I imagine." Somehow she always wondered who read her books, she sat at her desk for hours on end, creating characters and plots and outlines and working endless hours, and yet it was always difficult to imagine that out there somewhere were real people who read them. It always surprised her when people said they read her books. And most surprising of all was to see a stranger hurrying along the street with one of her books tucked under his or her arm. "Hey ... wait ... I wrote that ... do you like it? ... Who are you? ..." She smiled at him again, their eyes meeting, filled with questions.

"Mrs. Curtis tells me that you're coming to Howarth for a year. That's going to be a big change for the children." There was concern in her eyes as she said it.

"It will be a big change for me, too." There was something very reassuring about the man as he stood looking down at her from his long, lanky height. There was a boyish quality about him, yet at the same time, an aura of quiet strength. "I imagine many of the parents will be concerned that my tenure here is only temporary, but Mrs. Curtis will be around to help us"--he glanced at her briefly, smiling at her and then Daphne--"and I think we'll all benefit from this experience. We have a lot to learn from each other"--Daphne nodded--"and there are some new programs we want to try out, some exchanges with the New York School." It was the first Daphne had heard of it and she was intrigued.

"An exchange program?"

"Of sorts. As you know, most of our children are older, and there are more younger ones here. But Mrs. Curtis and I have been talking, and I think it might be very useful to some of the students from the New York School to come up for a week or two, to see what it's like living in the country, maybe to establish some kind of a big brother/big sister arrangement with the children here, and then bring some of the little ones down there for a week or two. They get very isolated up here, and that might make an interesting breakthrough for them, while still in an environment that's relatively familiar. We'll have to see how the idea develops." And then the boyish smile appeared again. "I have a few tricks up my sleeve, Miss Fields. The main thing is to keep our eye on our goals for the children, to get them back into the hearing world again. At the New York School we put a lot of emphasis on lipreading for that reason, more so than on signing, because if they're going to get out into the hearing world eventually, they have to be able to understand what's going on around them, and despite new awareness in recent years, the fact is that very few hearing people know anything about signing. We don't want to condemn these kids to living only among themselves." It was something Daphne had thought of often and she looked at him now almost with relief. The quicker he taught Andrew the skills he needed, the quicker he could come home to her.

"I like your thinking, Mr. Dane. That's why I liked your book so much. It made sense in terms of the realities, it wasn't filled with crazy dreams."

"Oh"--his eyes sparkled--"I have a few crazy dreams too. Like starting a boarding school one day for the hearing and nonhearing. But that's a long way off."

"Maybe not." They stood looking at each other for a moment, a kind of respect dawning between them, and then something softened in his eyes as he looked at her, almost forgetting Helen Curtis standing beside them.

He had seen Daphne two days before on The Conroy Show in Chicago and it explained a lot of things about her that he had sensed but hadn't known. The knowledge he had gained through the show seemed somehow a violation, and he didn't want to admit to her that he had seen it. But she saw it all in his eyes as he hesitated, and her eyes were honest with him.

"Did you see me on The Conroy Show the other night, Mr. Dane?" Her voice was soft and sad, her eyes wide open, and he nodded.

"Yes, I did. I thought you handled it very well."

She sighed and shook her head. "It was a nightmare."

"They shouldn't have the right to do that."

"But they do. That's why I won't do it again, as I told Mrs. Curtis last night."

"They're not all like that, are they?"

"Most are. They don't want to hear about your writing. They want to push themselves into something very private, your heart, your guts, your soul. And if they can get a little dirt in the bargain, they love it."

"That wasn't dirt. That was pain, and life, and sorrow." His voice was almost a warm embrace in the chill air. "You know, in reading your books, one comes to know more than anything they could pull out of you, anyway. That's what I was going to tell you. I've learned something about you through your books, but more than that I've learned something about myself. I haven't had the kind of losses you have"--and he marveled silently at how she had survived them and was still so whole--"but we all suffer losses of our own, losses that matter to us, that seem the worst tragedies on earth to us. I read your first book when I got divorced a few years back, and it did something very special for me. It got me through it." He looked embarrassed then. "I read it twice and then I sent a copy to my wife." His words touched her deeply. It was extraordinary to realize that her books mattered to anyone so much. And at that moment Andrew ran over to them, and she looked down at him happily and then at Matthew Dane, switching from spoken words to signing.

"Mr. Dane, I'd like you to meet my son. Andrew, this is Mr. Dane."

But when Matthew Dane signed to him, he spoke in a normal voice at the same time, moving his lips very distinctly, and making normal sounds. "It's nice to meet you, Andrew. I like your school."

"Are you a friend of my Mommy's?" Andrew signed to him with a look of open curiosity, and Matthew smiled, glancing quickly at her.