Chapter 7

When Justine had gone back to bed he sat in the kitchen for a long time thinking. She was right. He was still mad at God. Patrick didn't know what to do with that knowledge, and finally decided there was nothing he could do. He washed the glass and the plate and went to bed.

He woke to the sound of the smoke alarm and was out of bed and down to Justine's room before he was even properly awake. She wasn't there.

"Dad, Dad?" He heard her calling from downstairs. "I'm sorry, I was trying to bake cookies and they got all burnt."

Patrick went down the stairs and looked into the kitchen.

"We'd better open some windows and turn on the fan. Maybe you should ask Ms. Palenz to teach you how to bake cookies."

"Really?" Justine ran to the phone. "I'll call her right now."

"I'd better go upstairs and get dressed then."

By the time he was dressed and downstairs again the smoke had cleared and he could hear voices in the kitchen.

"Some ovens are hotter than others. It can make a big difference with cookies. Also, some kinds burn very easily."

"Good morning," Patrick said. "Thanks for coming over." He poured himself a cup of coffee and waved the pot in her direction.

"Thanks. Justine made me a cup, but I wouldn't mind a refill."

Patrick poured her more coffee then sat and watched them work. Lee was much younger than he'd thought. He had imagined some grandmotherly soul. His sister had recommended her and since she lived just a couple of blocks away it was convenient for Justine to go there after school until he got home. He couldn't believe that he had talked to her on the phone barely a half dozen times in two years and had never met her.

She was good with Justine, showing her how to do each step of baking cookies. By the time they were done they had what looked like hundreds of cookies.

"I can't believe we had this much baking stuff in our house."

"Oh, I brought stuff from my place. This is my weekly baking for the kids," Lee said.

"I hope you leave a few cookies behind."

Justine and Lee looked at each other and laughed.

"You were right," Lee said.

"I told her you would like the cookies," Justine said. "Mom was a great cook, but she didn't like baking, so Dad was always starved for cookies and pies and stuff."

Lee grinned at him.

"Ah, so I know what to do to get on your good side."

Lee ended up staying for supper and Justine cooked her meatballs and rice.

He and Justine were doing dishes after Lee had gone home to make up with Michael for leaving him all day.

"That was a pretty good day, for a day that started with a fire alarm."

"I'm sorry about that. The recipe looked so simple."

"Not everything that's simple is easy. It turned out well, but maybe next time wake me up before you start experimenting in the kitchen."

"OK, Dad."

***

On Monday Patrick called the school and made an appointment to meet with Justine's teacher. Ms. Hall had some time after school that day, so he left work early to go to the school.

The classroom was bright and cheerful with the same smell of chalk dust that he remembered.

"Thank you, Kelly." The young girl who was cleaning the blackboards smiled and left. Patrick looked at her curiously. She didn't look like a monster.

"Now, Mr. Constance, what can I do for you?" Ms. Hall said.

Now that he was here Patrick was at a loss for words. He took a second to organize his thinking and he was sure that Ms. Hall's lips were trying to bend into a frown.

"Justine came home very upset on Friday," he said, "something about Kelly saying that she shouldn't bring cookies since she had no mom to bake them."

"We are having a bake sale to raise money for a class project. Some of the kids were adamant that everything should be fresh baked and not store bought. Kelly was just trying to be thoughtful."

"That's not how Justine took it. She heard it as her lack of a mother being rubbed in her face."

"I assure you. I was in the room and that is not how it was said." She dusted her hands together as if that were the final statement on the matter. "I am glad that you came in. I do have some concerns about Justine."

"I see. She seems to be getting her homework done."

"Oh, it's not about her work. She's an exemplary student, but she doesn't seem to be very emotionally stable. We are reading Trumpet of the Swan because Justine can't read Charlotte's Web without crying. It's been two years. I think you might want to consider getting her counselling to help her move on."

Patrick felt a spike of rage rush from his gut into his head.

"Is your mother still alive?" he asked.

"Yes, thank goodness."

"Then you have no idea what Justine is going through. You don't just 'move on' after losing someone as important as a mother."

"Goodness, I'm just trying to do what's best for Justine."

Patrick stood up and tried to slow his breathing. Tried to find the right words to explain but the depth of his emotion was beyond words.

"Stop trying, and just teach," he finally said, and walked out of the room. He passed Kelly and some other girls in the hall. He thought Kelly was whispering to the others, but it was hard to tell through the tears that were clawing their way out of his eyes.