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“Honestly, yes. When I was in fifth grade I had this abominable teacher named Mrs. Craddock. She was hateful. She didn’t like me, thought I was as dumb as a rock and basically ruined my life for that year. Sad thing is, it stayed with me past that year.” He coughed to clear his throat. “It’s kind of pitiful, but I still feel that sting of rejection.”
Faith made a tutting sound. “How terrible it must have been for you. No teacher should ever make a student feel like that. It’s our sacred duty to make children feel nurtured and enriched by our presence in their lives. Not to mention it’s the Christian thing to do.”
Micah snorted. “I’m not sure if she was a woman of faith, but she sure didn’t act like one. I overheard her once talking about me and how stupid I was.” He shuddered. “At the time I was struggling a bit and no one really knew it at the time but I’m dyslexic.”
Faith didn’t react to his disclosure about being dyslexic. Her expression was shutter
ed. “I teach many dyslexic students and they’re all very bright, Micah. They just learn differently so I have to be aware of that and allow them to learn in a way that allows them to perform at their best. I’m so sorry you didn’t have the type of teacher who lifted you up.”
“It’s all water under the bridge. I wasn’t diagnosed until years later. They thought I had attention deficit disorder so I went down a few rabbit trails for a while. It was such a blessing to finally get a diagnosis. It felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders.”
Faith’s nodded her head enthusiastically. “Of course! I’m sure it was as if a veil had been lifted from your face.”
“Thanks for understanding. It’s been a long road. It’s kind of rare when people get it.”
“I get it, Micah. Believe me, I do. And from what I’ve seen from working with dyslexic kids, I know you’ve worked very hard to achieve your success.”
“I appreciate you saying so. Getting diagnosed was a relief, to be honest. It anchored me to something. I didn’t feel dumb anymore. One of the first things I did was research famous people with dyslexia. Tom Cruise. Whoopi Goldberg. Walt Disney. Knowing that gave me a sense of power. I knew I could achieve things despite my dyslexia.”
“Shayla told me you’ve done commercials and parts in television shows and movies. It takes a lot to memorize scripts.”
“I’ve developed quite a few tricks for learning dialogue. Not the easiest thing for someone with a language based learning disability. I’ve also learned to lean on the Lord in those moments when I’m truly feeling challenged.”
“God carries us through the storms.” Faith held up her lemonade glass. “Cheers to pushing past adversity.”
Micah clinked glasses with her. “For both of us.”
Micah couldn’t help but notice Faith’s sweater. He didn’t want to push anything, but he was worried about her comfort. It was eighty-five degrees today in Pelican Bay. Spring weather in Florida tended to be hot and hazy.
At this point it was only the two of them sitting by the screened in porch. Everyone else had scattered around the yard. His brothers and Rafferty had started an impromptu football game which Shayla was begging to join in on as Penelope reminded her of how she’d sustained a broken ankle the last time they’d all played. His father had fired up the grill and was putting food on.
Micah couldn’t keep quiet a second longer. “I hope you don’t mind my asking, but aren’t you hot in the sweater?”
Faith looked at him as if his question had startled her. She stiffened. “No, I’m fine.”
Micah knew he might be crashing into delicate territory, but he cared about Faith and he didn’t want to ignore the obvious. She was hiding her scars. “Faith, it’s okay to take the sweater off. It’s sweltering out here.”
She let out a sigh. “Micah, if you want to know the truth, I don’t wear short sleeves out in public. The only time I wear them is when I’m at my house or out back in my yard. Or when I’m with Lanie.”
“So you trust Lanie?”
She shrugged. “It’s not really a matter of trust.” She let out a huff of air. “Okay, I guess maybe it is. I know she’s not going to stare or be freaked out.”
Micah frowned. It bothered him deeply to hear Faith talk like this. “Have people treated you poorly in the past because of your scars?”
“In the beginning I didn’t know any better than to show them. But once other teenagers saw them and started whispering and pointing and staring I realized my mistake.” He could hear the raw pain in her voice. “It was painful.”
He let out a ragged sigh. Guilt threatened to swallow him up whole. At sixteen years old Micah might have been one of those teens who stared. He wouldn’t have meant it in a cruel way, but it would have hurt Faith nonetheless. “Oh Faith, it wasn’t a mistake. I know you were only sixteen, but some kids at that age are cruel and insensitive while others just don’t know how to handle the situation, so they stare. But you’re an adult now and you’re letting old wounds get in the way of your own comfort and well-being.”
“Old habits die hard.”
“I promise you that you’re in a safe place. No one here is going to whisper about you or make you feel less than.”
“It’s scary.” She let out a deep breath. “Wow. It kind of feels good to put it into words. It’s not something I admit to very often, but it’s scary to just let go.”
“I know,” he said, reaching out to pat her hand. “But I bet it will feel liberating.”
Faith cast a nervous glance around her. He watched as she slowly unbuttoned the sweater. He looked away, not wanting her to feel overly scrutinized. He waited a few seconds until he looked over again. She was now wearing a white sleeveless top. The burns on her left arm were a lot more evident than the scars on her right arm. They were raised and almost resembled a vine pattern. Micah sucked in a deep breath. The scars were pretty noticeable, but in his opinion it didn’t dim Faith’s light in the slightest. She was still gorgeous in his eyes.
