The moment Maud arrived, however, Mrs. Rochester, the new reverend’s wife, pulled her aside. She was a stout woman who always had a cheery disposition, but today she looked worried. “Oh, Maud. Kate McGregor didn’t show up to teach the girls’ Sunday School,” she said. “Would you please take her class?”
Maud was surprised she was even being asked, and she felt a bit cheated, too; she had so wanted to share her good news with her friends—and with Will. She suppressed a smile as she remembered she would soon see him since Will worked in the church library, which was in the same room that was used for the girls’ Sunday School classroom. She turned her attention back to Mrs. Rochester. “I’ve never taught before,” she said.
“It’s easy.” Mrs. Rochester squeezed Maud’s arm. “This week’s lesson is Noah’s ark.”
Although Maud certainly knew the story, that didn’t mean she could teach it. But Mrs. Rochester looked so desperate, and Maud knew what her grandmother would say: “A good Presbyterian doesn’t shrink from her duty.”
“All right,” Maud said.
After many exclamations of gratitude, Mrs. Rochester introduced Maud to the group of little girls dressed in their Sunday best and then left her alone.
Six pairs of eyes gazed up at her. Maud told them to open their Sunday School readers and asked them a series of questions she herself had been asked a hundred times about the Lord telling Noah to build an ark that would save only his family and each and every animal, two by two. But none of the girls had done their homework, and instead of answering her questions, they had a few confounding ones of their own:
“Was Jesus on the ark?”
“Did everyone go to heaven or hell?”
“How did Noah know the voice came from God and not Satan?”
She was saved when Will entered with a pile of books. “Noah knew that it was God because Satan’s voice is deeper,” he said, placing the books on the shelf.
The girls listened, entranced, as he began a long explanation as to how Noah would know the difference, and then they peppered him with questions. Eventually, Mrs. Rochester came to take them to their parents, and Maud and Will were left alone in the room.
Maud leaned against the wall and started laughing with deep relief. Thank goodness that was over.
“Got caught today?” he said, shelving a book.
“Yes,” Maud said, collecting the readers. “I’ve found myself transformed from pupil to teacher.”
He took the books from her and placed them on the shelf. “Did you enjoy it?”
“I enjoyed it well enough. One thing I can say is that I’m certainly better at it than Mr. Mustard.”
Will laughed.
“Thank you for your help,” she said. “They definitely know how to put someone on the spot.”
“And you wouldn’t know anything about that,” he said in a way that made her cheeks warm. She turned her face to the picture window so he wouldn’t see.
“How about being the librarian here?” she said, after she regained her composure. “I mean, do you enjoy your time here?”
“Yes,” he said.
“That’s good, if I’m going to be a teacher.”
“Me being a librarian?” He chuckled.
Maud laughed nervously, and she helped him put away the rest of the books. “Actually,” she said, “I have some interesting news today.”
“Really?” he said. “A teacher and a holder of secrets?”
She handed him the Charlottetown Patriot, and he smiled widely when he saw her name. He had the most agreeable smile. “Congratulations! I know you always have a pen in your hand, but I had no idea you had real aspirations. This is excellent, Maud. We’ll have to find a way to celebrate your good fortune.”
“Father said the same thing,” Maud said. “But nothing is as wonderful as seeing one’s name in print.” She breathed deeply. “Will, this proves to me that my greatest dream will come true. I am going to be a writer.”
“It is good to know who you really are,” he said. They stared at each other for a few moments, and Maud found herself suddenly anxious to fill the silence with words. But before she could do so, Annie burst into the room.
“Those boys are such terrors!” Annie taught the third-grade boys.
“They need you to show them the way, Annie,” Maud said, turning toward her.
Annie placed the books on the table next to Will. “Hello, Will.”
“Hello, Annie,” he said, picking up the pile. “I’d better finish this so I can get to my aunt’s in time for lunch. My mother, father, and all of my brothers and sisters are coming too, and it promises to be quite a feast.”
Maud pictured Will and Laura gathered around a table with their family, and then remembered the tension and arguments that awaited her at home. She felt a sudden stab of jealousy.
“Goodbye, Will,” Maud said.
“Goodbye, Maud,” he said in a way that made her feel as though he was saying “hello.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
After weeks of preparation and rehearsal, the day of the Christmas concert arrived. Mid-December brought with it terribly cold weather, with the kitchen thermometer reading forty below.
“Could the Lord have picked a colder day?” Mrs. Montgomery said, wrapping a red wool scarf around Katie’s head. She glared at Maud as though she had somehow conspired with the Almighty to inconvenience her stepmother with the inclement weather.
“Maud and her friends have worked so diligently on the Christmas concert,” Father said, straightening his gloves. “Besides, your niece Mrs. Stovel has directed it, so you might want to show your support.”
“At least it is only across the street.” She flounced out, leaving Maud to carry Katie—and part of her costume.
When they got to the church, Maud handed Katie to Father and went to the makeshift dressing room, which was much too tiny for anyone to get around in. No one could find their costumes, Alexena kept tripping on her skirt, and Lottie was sure she’d forgotten “everything she’d ever learned.”
But once on stage, the performers played with near perfection. Only one of the tableaux was a complete disaster: when Lottie almost fell into Alexena because Frank accidentally stepped on the sheet she was wearing as a cape. But Maud’s recitation of “The Child Martyr” was so excellent, she received a standing ovation. The audience even demanded an encore, so she recited part of her own work about Cape LeForce and spun it as well as her grandfather had.
The ladies had baked their finest for the tea that followed the performances, and the room smelled of sugar and pine. Many people came up to Maud to congratulate her.
“I knew you were scribbling something,” Mrs. McTaggart said, “but I had no idea you were such a talent.”
“I was so impressed by your elocution.” Aunt Kennedy hugged her. “Laura told me she helped you practice and knew you would be a success.”