felt silly. "Would you like to go for a walk?" They stood up after dinner, and he followed her outside the inn as Mrs. Obermeier watched with obvious pleasure. "You've made friends in this town, little one." He smiled down at her as they walked outside. "Mrs. Obermeier likes you."
"I like her too." They walked side by side in silence for some time, along the deserted streets, and then he tucked her gloved hand into his arm.
"When am I going to meet Andrew?" There seemed to be no question that he would, only when it would happen. It was as though in two days this man had become a part of her life, and she wasn't sure where they were going, but she knew that she liked it. She felt released suddenly from all the bonds that had chained her for years, and she felt a little bit adrift, but it was a pleasant feeling.
She turned her face up to his as they walked along and looked at the powerful profile beside her. She wasn't sure what he would be in her life, but she knew for certain that he would be her friend. "How about tomorrow? I was going to visit him in the afternoon. Would you like to come?"
"I'd love it."
They walked slowly back to his truck then, and he drove her home. He walked her to the door, and she didn't invite him in, and he didn't seem to expect it. She waved as she closed the door and he slipped into his truck and drove away, filled with his own thoughts of Daphne.
Andrew was waiting outside with two counselors and some of the other children when Daphne and John arrived at the school, and she was quick to recognize a look of suspicion in her son's eyes. He wasn't sure who the man was, and perhaps he was threatened by John's size. But Daphne had the feeling that he wasn't sure if he liked seeing someone with his mother. He had an instinctive sense of possession about her, which she had allowed to flourish.
She folded him quickly into her arms and kissed his cheek and his neck, nestling her face beside his, feeling the familiar warmth of the child who was so much a part of her, and then she pulled away and signed to him that this was her friend, just as he had friends at the school. And his name was John. And John knelt on the ground beside him. He didn't know any of the signs Daphne had already learned, but he seemed to communicate with the little boy with his eyes and his huge, gentle hands, and in a few minutes Andrew came to him hesitantly, like a cautious puppy. Without saying a word to him, John stretched forth a hand and took Andrew's small hand in his own. He began to talk to him then, in his deep, soft voice, as Andrew watched him. The boy's eyes stayed riveted to John's and once or twice he nodded, as though he understood him. There seemed to be total acceptance between them as Daphne watched in fascination. And then, without a word to her, Andrew led John away to sit beneath a tree, and "talk." The child signed, and the man spoke, and they seemed to understand each other as though they had always been friends. Daphne stood in the distance, watching in total fascination as she felt a surge of emotion within her, half sorrow to have lost another little piece of Andrew, half joy to see John reach out to this child she loved with her whole soul. And somewhere deep within there was resentment, too, to see the doors to Andrew's silent world swing open so easily for John, when she had struggled for so long to unlock them. But above all there was tenderness for both John and Andrew as they returned to her at last, hand in hand, and smiling. They began to play then, and a little while later all three of them were laughing. The hours until dinnertime flew like minutes, and Daphne showed John the school, suddenly proud that she had done the right thing for Andrew. And as they walked back downstairs from the room where Andrew slept, John looked at her with warmth that washed over her like a Mediterranean summer.
"Has anyone told you how terrific you are, little one?" She blushed and he put an arm around her
"I like her too." They walked side by side in silence for some time, along the deserted streets, and then he tucked her gloved hand into his arm.
"When am I going to meet Andrew?" There seemed to be no question that he would, only when it would happen. It was as though in two days this man had become a part of her life, and she wasn't sure where they were going, but she knew that she liked it. She felt released suddenly from all the bonds that had chained her for years, and she felt a little bit adrift, but it was a pleasant feeling.
She turned her face up to his as they walked along and looked at the powerful profile beside her. She wasn't sure what he would be in her life, but she knew for certain that he would be her friend. "How about tomorrow? I was going to visit him in the afternoon. Would you like to come?"
"I'd love it."
They walked slowly back to his truck then, and he drove her home. He walked her to the door, and she didn't invite him in, and he didn't seem to expect it. She waved as she closed the door and he slipped into his truck and drove away, filled with his own thoughts of Daphne.
Andrew was waiting outside with two counselors and some of the other children when Daphne and John arrived at the school, and she was quick to recognize a look of suspicion in her son's eyes. He wasn't sure who the man was, and perhaps he was threatened by John's size. But Daphne had the feeling that he wasn't sure if he liked seeing someone with his mother. He had an instinctive sense of possession about her, which she had allowed to flourish.
She folded him quickly into her arms and kissed his cheek and his neck, nestling her face beside his, feeling the familiar warmth of the child who was so much a part of her, and then she pulled away and signed to him that this was her friend, just as he had friends at the school. And his name was John. And John knelt on the ground beside him. He didn't know any of the signs Daphne had already learned, but he seemed to communicate with the little boy with his eyes and his huge, gentle hands, and in a few minutes Andrew came to him hesitantly, like a cautious puppy. Without saying a word to him, John stretched forth a hand and took Andrew's small hand in his own. He began to talk to him then, in his deep, soft voice, as Andrew watched him. The boy's eyes stayed riveted to John's and once or twice he nodded, as though he understood him. There seemed to be total acceptance between them as Daphne watched in fascination. And then, without a word to her, Andrew led John away to sit beneath a tree, and "talk." The child signed, and the man spoke, and they seemed to understand each other as though they had always been friends. Daphne stood in the distance, watching in total fascination as she felt a surge of emotion within her, half sorrow to have lost another little piece of Andrew, half joy to see John reach out to this child she loved with her whole soul. And somewhere deep within there was resentment, too, to see the doors to Andrew's silent world swing open so easily for John, when she had struggled for so long to unlock them. But above all there was tenderness for both John and Andrew as they returned to her at last, hand in hand, and smiling. They began to play then, and a little while later all three of them were laughing. The hours until dinnertime flew like minutes, and Daphne showed John the school, suddenly proud that she had done the right thing for Andrew. And as they walked back downstairs from the room where Andrew slept, John looked at her with warmth that washed over her like a Mediterranean summer.
"Has anyone told you how terrific you are, little one?" She blushed and he put an arm around her
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