He was missing her badly, and though Cody had called Elle Dalton to inform her of the family’s decision to remove Carl Joseph, so far Daisy hadn’t been able to come for a visit. Too soon, Elle told Cody. Daisy needed more time to get used to the idea that Carl Joseph wasn’t coming back. A visit now would confuse her.
And so these days Mary Gunner didn’t stand at the kitchen sink looking out the window admiring the view. She spent her time doing something she’d learned from Carl Joseph.
She prayed.
For healing and hope and love. And most of all she prayed that God would allow the sunshine to break through the clouds that had gathered around their home. Before the sad changes in her sons became little more than a way of life.
AS MUCH AS Elle wanted to believe Cody and his parents would change their minds, by Monday there was no denying the obvious. Carl Joseph wasn’t coming back to the center.
Elle had asked for a week to convince Cody Gunner, but she’d failed. She could see that when her eyes met Cody’s as he sat in the back of the ambulance moments before it pulled away with Carl Joseph inside. Cody had probably convinced his parents before sundown that Carl Joseph couldn’t return to the center.
Carl Joseph’s accident had been deeply traumatic for Elle’s students. She was still trying to reassure them that Carl Joseph was okay, that the accident hadn’t done serious damage. The questions about his condition came every hour at first, but by Friday—a week since they’d seen Carl Joseph—the questions had stopped. Even so, nothing was the way it had been. The students entered the classroom more slowly, and the first thing they did was look around and take stock. When they saw that once again Carl Joseph wasn’t there, they frowned, wrinkling their brows and muttering his name under their breath.
Of course the one most affected was Daisy.
It was Monday morning and Elle was in the break room, waiting for the students to arrive. Her sister was sitting at the art table, coloring a picture. For a week she’d done almost no talking. She didn’t volunteer information when Elle asked a question, and she wasn’t enthused about their latest field trip to the bowling alley.
The coffeemaker needed cleaning, so Elle took it to the sink and began rinsing it out. She could remember every detail of her conversation with Cody Gunner, the one that had taken place the day Carl Joseph got out of the hospital.
“We’ve made a family decision,” he told her.
At first she’d been distracted, trying to hide the effect his voice had on her. But then she realized what he was saying. His tone didn’t sound harsh or judgmental, the way he’d come across at times before. If she hadn’t known better, she’d have thought she heard regret. “Carl Joseph won’t be coming back to the center.”
And that was that. It served her right, because there was no denying the feelings she’d developed for Cody Gunner. What sort of woman was she? Looking forward to the company of a guy whose wife was sitting at home waiting for him? Elle was disgusted with herself because after a week with Cody, she was doing it again, letting herself fall for the wrong man. Now he would no longer be a temptation. He wasn’t coming back, and neither was Carl Joseph.
But where did that leave Daisy?
Her sister still looked at the door every fifteen minutes, longing for Carl Joseph. When the music played, Daisy sat in her seat staring at her hands or looking at a blank part of the wall. All the while Elle allowed her sister to believe that maybe her friend would return.
But it was time to tell her the truth. No matter how much she hoped the Gunners would change their minds, they clearly weren’t budging. Carl Joseph wasn’t coming back.
Elle studied her sister. She would tell her today, after class.
The students were arriving, and Elle went to meet them. But as the day progressed, an undeniable cloud of sadness hung in the air. Even bad-tempered Sid was concerned about Carl Joseph. Sid raised his hand in the middle of an explanation on the new bus route. He didn’t wait to be called on. “Has anyone seen Carl Joseph?”
Elle didn’t give the others a chance to answer. “He’s getting better, remember? He had an accident.”
“So . . .” Sid held up his hands. He squinted, the confusion written across his face. “Is he still on the orange bus?”
“No, Sid. He’s home getting better.”
“He could get better here.” Gus looked around for approval. Several of the students nodded and started a chorus of voices agreeing that yes, certainly he could get better just as easily at the center as he could at home.
The rest of the day Elle had trouble keeping them focused. Finally when the last student was gone, she looked around and found Daisy back at the art table. God . . . how am I going to say this? Sadness filled her heart and stung at the corners of her eyes. Dear sweet Daisy. She would be devastated by the news.
Her sister didn’t seem to notice her approaching, and Elle had a moment to stand behind Daisy before beginning the conversation. Her sister was drawing a picture of Mickey Mouse, each line meticulous, the colors exactly the ones used in the real Mickey.
“Nice, Daisy.” She took the seat beside her sister. “I like it.”
“Thank you.” Daisy didn’t look up. She switched the black crayon for a red one and kept coloring. “It’s for CJ.”
“Oh.” The pain in Elle’s heart doubled. “I’m sure he’ll like it.”
“When he comes back.” She paused and looked straight at Elle. “For when he comes back.”
“Yes.” Elle turned her chair so she was facing her sister. “Daisy, I have to tell you something. It’s not something I want to say.”
Daisy didn’t answer, but her head began to bob ever so slightly. When Daisy was frightened, this was always the first sign, long before she was able to articulate what she was feeling. Elle put her hand over Daisy’s. “Stop for a minute, okay? I need you to look at me.”
Daisy put down her crayon. She turned to Elle, but she didn’t lift her eyes. She was still rocking, and now a soft humming came from her throat. Everything about her mannerisms told Elle that she wanted to shut out whatever was about to be said.
Elle wanted to tell her to look up, but instead she took her sister’s hands and held them softly. “Carl Joseph is going to stay at home for a while.” She had decided this was the best way of putting it, better than to say that her friend was gone for good. She leaned down so she could see her sister’s face better. “His brother told me we can visit him.”
“CJ wanted to entertain me.” Finally she lifted her head. Tears left a shiny layer over her eyes. “He wanted to entertain me at Disneyland. With shortcake.” She sniffed. “And dancing at Disneyland.”
“I’m sorry, Daisy. Maybe you can still go to Disneyland one day.” Elle wanted to hold her close, but she needed to be clear at the same time. “Do you understand? About Carl Joseph?”
Daisy looked around and nervously twirled a piece of her blonde hair. “CJ isn’t here. He’s at home.”
“Yes. Right.” Elle felt her own tears gathering. “He needs this time.”
Daisy cast her eyes back at the picture she was coloring. As she did, a single tear landed with a splash on Mickey’s nose. Daisy tried to rub it, but it only smeared the black, leaving a smudge at the center of her artwork. Daisy put her hands to her face and pushed her chair back.
“Honey.” Elle put her hands on her sister’s shoulders. “It’s okay. Everything’s going to be fine. Your Goal Day is coming, and then you can go visit Carl Joseph any time you want.”
Daisy shook her head. Anger was clearly throwing itself into her hodgepodge of emotions. She stood and went to the window, wobbling more than usual as she walked. When she reached the sill, she braced herself and stared out at the overcast sky. “Why, God?” she whispered in a voice that was loud and slurred. “Why?”
The moment was too heartbreaking. Elle made her way next to her sister and slipped her arm around her shoulders. “What, Daisy? Talk to me.”
She was crying harder
now. She pointed at the sky. “Sunshine . . . just beyond the clouds.” Her eyes found Elle’s. “That’s what CJ says.”
“He’s right.” Elle put her fingers to her throat. The lump there made it almost impossible to talk. “In a rainstorm and in life.”
Daisy hung her head then and cried like a little child. The sort of gut-wrenching tears that only time could comfort. After five long minutes, Daisy wiped her eyes and pulled away from Elle. She went to the desk, took a tissue, and blew her nose.
Then she moved across the room to the CD player and pushed a few buttons. Glenn Miller’s “In the Mood” broke the silence, its rhythmic horns and strings filling the room. Daisy held out her hand the way she’d done when she danced with Carl Joseph on a number of occasions.
This time, though, she kept her eyes on a vacant spot just in front of her. She smiled and took a step forward. Her feet began to move in time to the music, and with both hands up around her pretend partner, she danced across the floor.
They needed to get home, and Elle couldn’t take much more. The day was sad enough without watching Daisy dance by herself. She went to her sister and touched her elbow. “Daisy . . . it’s time to go.”
“But”—she was out of breath—“I’m finding something.”
“What, honey?” Elle was about to turn the music off. “What are you finding?”
Daisy stopped, her chest heaving. “Sunshine.” She pointed toward the window. “I’m finding sunshine.”
Chapter Seventeen
Nothing about his parents’ plan was working, but after only two weeks, Cody wasn’t ready to give up. Carl Joseph was sulking, missing his friends at the ILC. That was to be expected. Cody missed the routine, too. But maybe if he realized the joy of working outdoors, helping with Ace and checking the fence around their ranch, the pain of missing the center would ease a little.
Working so hard with Carl Joseph had brought about only one benefit so far.
Cody was thinking of Ali less.
Not that she wasn’t still there in his heart. She was. But now when he found himself missing someone, more often it was Elle. Her sweet and subtle sarcasm, the way she held her own with him. And her eyes—the way he could get lost in them without meaning to.
It was Monday, start of the third week. Cody walked from his house to his parents’, and as he reached the back door he dug down deep for another dose of patience.
Inside, Carl Joseph was sitting at the dining room table. His face almost touched his plate of scrambled eggs.
“Hi, Buddy.”
Carl Joseph mumbled something, but he didn’t look up.
Maybe it was Cody’s imagination, but it seemed that Carl Joseph was regressing on purpose. As if he were smart enough to know that if he acted disengaged, maybe someone would decide to take him back to the center where he’d been doing so well.
Cody sucked at the inside of his cheek and studied his brother. “I’m going to teach you how to stack hay today, Buddy.”
“It might rain.” Carl Joseph poked at his eggs. “It might.”
“That’s okay. Guys who work on ranches have raincoats.” Cody had wished more than once that the weather would go ahead and clear up. It was one of the rainiest late springs the area had ever experienced. And every drop reminded Carl Joseph of Daisy and his friends back at the center.
They headed out to the barn, where a neighbor had dropped off twenty bundles of hay. All of it lay in a heap near the entrance to the arena. “Okay, first I’ll teach you how to pick up a bale of hay.”
Cody positioned himself in front of one of the bales. “Always bend like this, Buddy. You don’t want to hurt your back.”
“Gus hurt his back one time in cooking class.” Carl Joseph turned toward the door, his back to the hay. “One time he did that.”
“I’m over here.” Cody held his breath. He didn’t want his frustration to show in his voice.
Slowly Carl Joseph turned toward him and moved behind a bale of hay. “ ’Cause not to hurt my back.” He pushed his glasses back into place, spread his legs wide, and bent at the knees. But as he did, he rose up on his toes and lost his balance. He toppled forward and didn’t get his hands out in front of himself in time. He hit the hay face-first and fell to the ground. He had hay sticking in his hair and small cuts across his cheeks—including along the newly healed section where he’d gotten hurt in the car accident.
Cody hurried to his side and helped him brush the hay off his shirt and out of his hair. “Not that wide, okay? You can’t spread your legs that wide.” He helped his brother to his feet. But by then, Carl Joseph was shaking from the fall.
“Fine, let’s try something else.”
CARL JOSEPH DIDN’T want to learn about the ranch. But he didn’t want to say that to Brother or Brother might get mad at him. Also, this was his home, and Brother said boys should help out at home. He would get paid if he could learn all the jobs.
But he didn’t want to.
Brother said it could be a break from the prickly hay, but Carl Joseph didn’t clap or smile or laugh. ’Cause what about Daisy? What about Gus and Tammy and Sid? What about Teacher and the bus routes and the field trips?
Brother said they were going to fix a fence. So Carl Joseph walked with Brother out across the dirt where Ace liked to run, to a fence at the far back. Brother pointed to a broken part. “See that, Buddy?”
“Yes.” He squinted through his glasses. They still had hay on them. He took them off and rubbed them with his shirt. Then he put them back on. There. “I see that now.”
“First thing we have to do is cut a piece of wire.” Brother had a roll of something and he knelt on the ground and took cutters from his pocket.
Carl Joseph didn’t care about the wire. He sat down on the ground while Brother worked, and he dragged his finger through the soft sandy dirt. Where was Daisy right now? He looked at the sky. It was darker than before. He studied the dirt again. He could write in the dirt. He’d done it before.
“Then you take the wire,” Brother was saying, “and you wrap it several times around the post and . . .”
The dirt felt good on his fingers. Better than the hay. Carl Joseph drew lines one way, and then another. Then he erased the lines with his whole hand. Then he had an idea. He began drawing letters in the sand. All the letters he knew how to spell.
“Buddy?” His brother was standing beside him. He sounded upset. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to be watching me fix the fence. So you can learn how to do it.”
Carl Joseph leaned back so Brother could see better. “I’m writing my favorite letters.”
“You are?” Brother moved around so he could see the letters better. “What’s it say?”
Carl Joseph felt sadness deep inside. “D-A-I-S-Y. . . . It spells D-A-I-S-Y.”
Brother tossed his cutters onto the ground and he dropped onto his behind. “I know you want to be back at the center, Buddy. I want that, too.” He took off his hat and wiped his forehead. “But the doctor says no, and Mom and Dad say no. You need to understand.”
“D-A-I-S-Y.”
His brother was going to say something, ’cause his eyes looked tired. But then the rain started hard and fast. Carl Joseph gasped and looked at the letters in the sand. He covered them with his body so they wouldn’t get wet. So they wouldn’t melt.
But then he felt sadder than ever before. ’Cause the rain fell on everything and Daisy might melt. She might get wet and melt. Even if she wasn’t the Wicked Witch of the West. Water fell onto his cheeks, but it wasn’t from the rain.
“Your teacher will take care of Daisy. She won’t get wet.”
“ ’Cause I’m not there.” He covered the whole word “Daisy” with his body. “She might get wet.”
“Buddy, what can I do?” His brother breathed out hard. He slid closer on the wet ground. “How can we get you excited about working at home?”
Carl Joseph wasn’t sure what Brother meant. He thought and thought, and then he k
new what to say. He kept his body over her name, but he looked at Brother’s eyes. “Remember Ali, the horse rider?”
Brother pulled up one knee and laid his forehead on it for a minute. “Yes.” He lifted his head. “I remember her.”
“You miss her, Brother. You said so.”
“I do.” His brother’s voice was quiet. “I miss her a lot.”
“That’s how I miss D-A-I-S-Y.”
Brother looked at him for a long time. Then he said, “I’m sorry, Buddy.”
And that’s when the rain stopped, and Carl Joseph had an idea. He could pray. So he prayed the rest of the day that maybe sometime soon Brother would take him back to see Teacher and the students and Daisy. Because praying was a life skill.
The most important of all.
ALL ALONG—FROM the start of his parents’ plan—Cody figured the club meeting at the park would be a highlight for Carl Joseph. The day dawned warm and sunny, but no amount of small talk about the weather on the ride to the park lifted Carl Joseph’s dark mood.
“Are you excited, Buddy?” Cody tried again as they reached the front door of the park building.
“I don’t know.” Carl Joseph kept his gaze straight ahead.
The two of them walked inside and saw an older man at the front desk. He was busy writing something, but when he noticed them he smiled and stuck his pencil behind his ear. “Can I help you?”
“Yes.” Cody wasn’t sure where to begin. He decided to keep the explanation simple. “My brother’s name is Carl Joseph Gunner. He’d like to take part in the club meeting today.”
Next to him, Carl Joseph folded his arms in front of his chest and scowled.
Cody managed a weak smile. “Are we on time?”
“Yes. The others are all here, but they always come a little early.” The man was kind; his expression and voice were warm and welcoming. He took a piece of paper from a stack on his desk and handed it to Cody. “Fill this out for him”—he pointed beyond his desk around a corner—“then take him in with the other adults.”