When Sam hired Christy, he’d thought she would solve all his problems
Instead, she’d added one more distraction to his life.
He thought about telling Christy that talking to the workmen was not a good example for Meggie. Weren’t they trying to teach the child to be cautious around strangers? He thought about telling her that he preferred she not accept dates while she was on duty. He thought about telling her a lot of childish things, but he didn’t. This wasn't Christy’s fault. It was the men who were coming on to Christy—that was plain to see. A couple of them had evidently worked up the nerve to ask her out.
The truth was, he wanted Christy Lane, with her soothing hands and musical voice and sunny smiles and homey cooking, to be waiting in the kitchen when he got home. Waiting for him. Not standing at the curb talking to some tanned gorilla of a construction worker, giggling up at him and twirling a blond curl around her index finger.
The truth was, he wanted to ask her out on a date himself. Which was precisely what he intended to do.
Dear Reader,
One of my favorite expressions is: “Plan like mad, but take it as it comes.”
Most of us have had an experience similar to that of my hero, Sam Solomon. Like Sam, we plan our lives (like mad), but then fate throws us an unexpected curve and we are forced to “take it as it comes.”
I like to think that when unexpected circumstances force us to adapt, our true character is revealed. I like to think that if we are made of the right stuff, we grow with each challenge, reaching new levels of clarity, wisdom and joy. I like to think that love, in all its forms, is the reward for such growth.
Architect Sam Solomon is a good man who is about to grow and learn some powerful lessons. When his mentally challenged daughter, Meggie, comes to live with him, Sam discovers the meaning of sacrifice. And as a result, he is rewarded with the unwavering love of Meggie’s invincible nanny, Christy Lane.
I want to thank my brother Rick, an architect, for his technical advice on this story. My mother, who delighted in all of my books, would have especially enjoyed this one because of Rick’s input. But she will never read this story, because less than twenty-four hours after I completed writing No Ordinary Child Mother died unexpectedly. We must take it as it comes. So I am counting on you to read this one for her.
My best,
Darlene Graham
I love to hear from my readers. Visit me at
www.superauthors.com/Graham or write to me at P.O. Box 720224, Norman, OK 73070.
No Ordinary Child
Darlene Graham
To Antonia Mae.
The sound of your voice reading Tennyson to me
will echo in my heart for as long as I live.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER ONE
BENEATH THE DARK, GLASSY surface of the still water, Sam Solomon imagined he could see his future, waiting.
He had studied the old photographs and maps long and hard and knew well the intricacies of the rock formations and antiquated stone structures of the old ghost town that had been put to rest under the lake. He could picture every twist and turn, every trailing meander of the rough stone pathways. The way they veered up and down, their many steps. He was familiar with the dimensions of the old concrete retaining walls. He knew the shape of the arched stone bridge, the semicircular pattern of the seats in the tiny amphitheater. All of it vanished under tons of water when the Greer Dam was erected in 1939, a temple to the god of electricity. But the resulting lake had ultimately grown too large, gobbling up stray fingers of property. And in the process, the tiny town of Moonlight Grove, an abandoned hamlet in a narrow valley, had been covered by the flooding water.
Back then, nobody cared.
But now Sam Solomon cared. He could hardly wait to see what actually remained of the stone ruins. Most of the structures in Moonlight Grove had been built of native sandstone and would withstand the test of time. The water, however, was a more treacherous foe. Sam could not be sure of what he would find.
Soon enough, this shallow branch of Broken Arrow Lake would be drained. Soon enough, the restoration Sam had long envisioned would begin.
Restore. Reclaim. Resurrect. Excitement coursed through his veins at the very words. Sam Solomon loved fixing things—big things—in a permanent way. Maybe that was because in his life, there had been so many things that he could not fix, so many things he could not reclaim, could not resurrect. Maybe that was the whole reason he’d become an architect in the first place. To create something that could not be torn away in one cruel instant, by one cruel twist of fate, one tiny aberration of nature.
He squinted out over the lake, determined not to relive the tragedies of his past now, when his dream was coming true at last. His overachieving family of doctors and lawyers had always made Sam feel he had to prove himself every step of the way. But this project wasn’t about them. Moonlight Grove was about him. Sam, the one who restored, resurrected.
“An architect?” his old man had chided in disbelief when Sam announced his plans to return to college after marrying and becoming a father, too young, too recklessly.
“What you need to do is get your law degree and go to work for the firm, like your brother David. You need security, liquidity. You have responsibilities, Sam. You have Meggie to think about now. And I shouldn’t have to remind you that Meggie is no ordinary child. Her needs are only going to become greater as she grows.”
Why had his father felt compelled to talk like that? No one needed to remind Sam that his Meggie wasn’t like other children. He had thought about that fact every single day of his life since the day she was born.
Sam closed his eyes, momentarily shutting out the lake and the sunset, remembering how his father had always made him doubt himself. An architect. The way his father had acted one would have thought Sam had chosen to become a park-bench bum. And when Sam had focused his energies on historic restoration instead of high-rise office construction his dad had mocked him all the more.
But now he had finally amassed the financial backing and the restoration experience to make his dream a reality. He opened his eyes again. Too bad his father had passed on before he could see Sam’s vision become a reality.
He braced his legs wide on the rock ledge where he stood, his stance bespeaking the boldness of his plans. He ran his fingers through his hair and raised his eyes to the blazing Oklahoma sun that seemed to touch the edge of the water. For Sam it wasn’t