A Masterpiece Gone

Chapter Twenty-five

"Jackson, you can't even tell you have arthritis!" Jessie shrilled as his eyes stared up her raised hand holding a squeaky newspaper toy.  Neil remained next to Jessie on the couch having grown tired of the game five throws back when he grew in favor of his neck being scruffed.

Jackson wagged his tail, though Jessie knew it was more for the anticipation of where the toy would go rather than concurring with his mother.  Laughing, Jessie threw the plastic newspaper in the direction of the front door.

"I'm done," a small voice called from the kitchen.  

Startled, Jessie jerked her head to the left.  Abandoning her post on the couch to a much disappointed Neil, Jackson watched her walk away with the toy hanging from one side of his mouth.  

Riley remained unsmiling at the table with her pencil laying on a heavily written page.  Jessie walked over and stood behind her.  "Do you want me to check it over?" she offered.

"If you want to," Riley replied nonchalantly.  

Jessie's eyes met Riley's rather extremely neat print first before scanning the directions prompting the student to write about a dream vacation much like some story character that she must have read in an accompanying textbook:

I went to Canada  last year.  It was for my mom's old job.  I took a passport photo for it and we saw some waterfalls there.  They lit up at night with different colors.  But that was not my dream.  I want to go to Disney World one day.   I would take a picture with Cinderella's castle.  I can get made into a princess.  I can get pretty my hair and make-up.  But I'll never get to go.  Lily went to London because of the magic dust.  That is make believe.  I wish there was lots of magic dust for real.

In spite of the choppy sentences typical for her grade level, the power of emotion of Riley's words seemed beyond her years.  "I also had to do this page," Riley stated before turning the page backwards to some reading comprehension questions.  

After double checking Riley's full, seemingly coherent answers if not accurate, Jessie closed the workbook.  "Really nice job," she commented sincerely, placing the pencil to the side.  "Why don't you go freshen up in the bathroom right outside here and you can pick whatever you want to eat for dinner?"

Jessie smiled before making her way to the kitchen sink to wash her own hands.  Just as she shut the water, the light tapping of her lower back made her jump.  "You really think so?" Riley asked the moment Jessie spun around, her eyes filled with wonder instead of darkness.

"About what, love?  What we should have for supper?" Jessie asked in confusion.

Riley patiently shook her head.  "No.  What you said about my homework," she softly elaborated.

"Of course.  You print beautifully and you write well.  In fact, my husband is a writer and if he were here I know he would agree," Jessie said, returning her grin.

For the first time, the corners of Riley's rosy thick lips turned up ever so slightly.  "Mrs. Lucy had lots of books.  They were her grandchildren's but they're big now," she declared.  "I used to read after I did my homework.  Maybe I can write one day too or become a vet or a ballerina.  I loved dance school.  Maybe Mom will let me go back one day."

Riley's face dropped at that last thought before she obediently headed out of the kitchen towards her backpack in the living room with her workbook and pencil tucked under her armpit.  As she waited for Riley to return from the bathroom, Jessie sorted through her cabinets and found a few take-out menus from the drawer by the silverware. 

"What are you hungry for tonight?" Jessie asked five minutes later as Riley reentered the kitchen seeming to have tried her best to even smooth out her hair with her own fingers.