Free Stand by Me by Neta Jackson Page B

honey.
    â€œYou’ll never guess what happened today,” he said after polishing off the first piece of cornbread. He pointed his fork at her. “Jack Griffin—remember him? He’s the guy in Indianapolis with a software business similar to Software Symphony, wanted us to merge our companies about three years ago as a partnership. I wasn’t interested at the time—but today, who shows up in person? Jack Griffin! Wants to make me an offer, buy me out! A nice offer, I have to admit.” Peter shook his head as he cut into his chicken. “Can’t believe it. Right out of the blue, just like that. Something to consider, don’t you think, honey?” He forked a man-size bite of chicken into his mouth.
    Avis just stared at him. “Why would you do that? Sell the business?”
    Peter chewed thoughtfully. “It’s just something to think about. The economy is still in big trouble—you know that. A lot of people aren’t able to make their mortgage payments. All those foreclosures. Gas keeps going up. Unemployment still high. I might be wise to sell before the economy bottoms out.”
    Avis’s mouth went dry. “But . . . what about your employees? They depend on you. Florida’s husband, Carl, for instance. What would happen to him if you sell?”
    Peter wiped his fingers on his napkin. “That’s a good point. Might make it a condition of the sale that current employees would keep their jobs. But . . . honey, don’t look so distressed. We don’t have to make a decision tonight. I want to think it over, talk to some people, pray with you . . . but I have to admit, when something like this drops into your lap, you wonder if God is telling you something.”
    Avis shook her head. It was almost too much. “Not sure it is the best time to sell. I need to show you something.” She got up and rummaged through the large canvas bag she carried to school each day and returned to the table with a letter. “Been meaning to show you this.”
    Peter took the envelope and frowned. “School board, eh?” He pulled out the letter and read it. She watched his face. A flicker of interest widened his eyes and smoothed out the frown. She could tell he was reading it a second time, just like she had—though she’d now read it a dozen times since she first opened it.
    Finally he looked up. “So they’ve put Bethune Elementary on the list of possible school closings for next year.”
    She nodded, her throat tightening. “They’ve come close a couple times, but praise God, we always squeaked through. Bethune is one of the best public schools in the Rogers Park area. I don’t see how they can even consider closing it!”
    He nodded. “Worried about your job, honey?”
    â€œNot just my job! My teachers . . . the kids . . . everything we’ve worked hard to develop at Bethune to give these kids a good preparation for middle school and high school. I’m proud of what we’ve accomplished!” Avis threw out her hands, the food on her plate mostly untouched. “What kind of screwed-up system would shut down a high-performing school rather than shake every tree possible to keep it open? And I find out through a form letter?”
    Peter reached across the table and took her hand, holding it quietly for a few moments. Finally he spoke. “Honey, I hear you. I know it would be very hard for you. And tough for everyone—your staff, the kids, the parents. You’ve done a fantastic job at that school. You have a right to be proud. But . . .” A light seemed to turn on in his eyes. “. . . maybe God’s saying something to us through everything that’s happening. Nony’s letter. A prospective buyer for Software Symphony. The possibility that Bethune Elementary might be closed next year . . . Maybe God’s showing us this is the time to consider taking that mission trip