Francine Rivers - Leotas Garden

Leotas Garden

Francine Rivers

Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.

Wheaton, Illinois

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Copyright 1999 by Francine Rivers. All rights reserved.

Cover photo copyright 1999 by Tony Stone Images / Claude Caroly. All rights reserved.

Authors photo copyright 1999 by John Teague. All rights reserved.

Edited by Karen M. Ball

Designed by Julie Chen and Beth Sparkman

Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright 1996. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, Illinois 60189. All rights reserved.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Rivers, Francine, date

Leotas garden / Francine Rivers.

p. cm. ISBN 0-8423-3572-2 (hardcover). ISBN 0-8423-3498-X (softcover) I. Title. PS3568.I83165L46 1999 813.54dc21 99

Printed in the United States of America

To my grandmothers,

women of strength and faith

MARTHA WULFF

MARGARET ELEANOR KING

ANNA TORESIA JOHNSON

No book is ever written without the help of many people. I would like to thank:

May Sandine for sharing her memories;

Jim Ruppert and Cyndi Perez of Exchange Bank in Windsor, for patiently answering my questions regarding banking;

Tim Moore and his assistant, Dianne Moore, at Edward D. Jones in Sebas-topol for information about the stock market;

Rosie Sanchez Wagner at Fred Young and Company Funeral Directors for answering some delicate questions;

Patricia Rushford for sharing her expertise on home care for the elderly. Her book, Caring for Your Elderly Parents, was invaluable; and Karen Ball for encouraging while editing.

Corban Solseks heart dropped and his stomach clenched tight when he saw the B on his sociology proposal. The shock of it made heat pour into his face and then recede in the wake of cold anger. Hed worked hard on this outline for his term project! Hed checked his information and sources, reviewed the methods by which he planned to present his ideas, and proposed a program. He shouldve received an A! What gives? Opening the folder, he glanced through the perfectly typed pages, looking for corrections, comments, anything that might give an indication of why he hadnt received what he knew he deserved.

Not one red check anywhere. No comment. Nothing.

Stewing, Corban flipped open his notebook, wrote the date, and tried to concentrate on the lecture. Several times Professor Webster looked straight at him as he spoke, singling him out from the other hundred and twenty students inhabiting the tiers of desks. Each time Corban stared back for a few seconds before looking down and scribbling some more notes. He had great respect for Professor Webster, which made the grade even harder to take.

Ill challenge him. I dont have to accept this without a fight. It wasnt a good proposal. It was excellent. He wasnt a mediocre student. He poured his heart and soul into his work, and he intended to make sure he was treated fairly. Hadnt his father instilled that in him?

You have to fight for yourself, Cory. Dont let anybody kick you around. They kick you, kick em back harder. Knock em down and make sure they dont get up again. I didnt bring up my son to take any guff from anybody.

His father had worked his way to the top of a trucking company through hard labor and fierce determination. Hed done it all, from truck driver to mechanic to sales to administration to CEO, and finally to part owner of the company. He was proud of his accomplishments while at the same time embarrassed by his lack of formal education. Hed never gotten further than the sophomore year of high school. Hed quit to help support his mother and younger siblings after his father died of a massive heart attack.

The same kind of heart attack that killed him the year after he retired, leaving a wealthy widow and two sons and a daughter with healthy trust funds.

Focus on where youre going, his father had always said. Get into a good college. The best, if possible. Stick it out. Dont let anything or anyone get in your way. Get yourself a sheepskin from a big-name college and youre halfway up the ladder before you have your first job.

No way was Corban going to accept this grade. Hed worked too hard. It wasnt fair.

Did you have something to say, Mr. Solsek? Professor Webster stood staring at him from his podium.

Corban heard several students laugh softly. There was the rustle of papers and the creak of seats as others turned and looked back at him where he sat in the center middle row.

Sir?

Your pencil, Mr. Solsek, the professor said with an arched brow. This isnt a percussion instrument class.

Corbans face flooded with heat as he realized hed been tapping his pencil while his mind raced in agitation. Sorry. He flipped it into the proper position for writing and aimed a quelling glance at two twittering coeds. How did those airheads make it into Berkeley anyway?

Are we ready to proceed then, Mr. Solsek? Professor Webster looked back at him with a faint smile.

Embarrassment melted into anger. The jerks enjoying this. Now Corban had two reasons to feel indignant: the unfair grade and public humiliation. Yes, sir, any time you are. He forced a dry smile and a pretense of calm disdain.

By the end of the lecture, the muscle in Corbans jaw ached from tension. He felt as though he had a two-ton elephant sitting on his chest. He took his time stuffing his notebook into the backpack already crammed with books and two small binders. Thankfully, the other students cleared out of the lecture hall in quick fashion. Only two or three paused to make any remarks to Professor Webster, who was now erasing the board. Corban kept the report folder in his hand as he walked down the steps toward the podium.

Professor Webster stacked his notes and tucked them into a file folder. Did you have a question, Mr. Solsek? he said, putting the folder into his briefcase and snapping it shut. He looked at Corban with those dark, shrewd eyes.

Yes, sir. He held out his report. I worked very hard on this.

It showed.

There wasnt a single correction.

No need. What you had there was very well presented.

Then why a B and not an A?

Professor Webster rested his hand on the briefcase. You have the makings of an excellent term paper from that proposal, Mr. Solsek, but you lacked one major ingredient.

How could that be? He and Ruth had both gone over the paper before he turned it in. He had covered everything. Sir?

The human element.

I beg your pardon?

The human element, Mr. Solsek.

I heard you, sir. I just dont understand what you mean. The entire paper is focused on the human element.

Is that so?

Corban stifled his anger at Websters sardonic tone. He forced himself to speak more calmly. How would you suggest I make it more apparent, sir? He wanted an A in this course; he wasnt going to accept less. Sociology was his major. He had maintained a 4.0 for three years. He wasnt going to break that perfect record now.

A case study would help.

Corban flushed with anger. Obviously the professor hadnt read his paper carefully enough. I incorporated case studies. Here. On page 5. And more here. Page 8. He had backed up everything he had proposed with case studies. What was Professor Webster talking about?

Collected from various volumes. Yes, I know. I read your documentation, Mr. Solsek. What you lack is any personal contact with those who might be most affected by your proposed programs.