MRS. BENJAMIN CELEBRATES 10-YEAR ANNIVERSARY THIS WEEK
English teacher Sonia Benjamin will celebrate her 10-year anniversary this Friday. Benjamin attended Belmont Academy (class of 2001) and went on to attend Brown University. She received her master’s from St. John’s University and then went overseas as a volunteer for Teachers Without Borders. When she returned to the States, she came back to Belmont, which she considers her “home away from home.”
During her time here, she has been active in the Belmont community, serving on a number of committees throughout the years. She is currently a liaison to the Collaborative and faculty advisor to the Belmont Bugle.
On Friday, the school will have a day-long celebration in her honor in the Stafford Room, next to the dining hall. At noon, the anniversary ceremony will commence, and it is open to all.
Overall, Sonia is satisfied with the article, though she does wish it introduced her as “Beloved English teacher Sonia Benjamin.” It would have been more accurate.
19
EARLY WEDNESDAY EVENING, Teddy maneuvers his way around the back of his house. It’s dusk, making everything look grey. He can’t decide if that makes the garden look better or not.
Using his phone, he takes pictures of every plant, weed, bush, and tree. Back inside, at his computer, he runs each picture through a search to identify it and double-checks the information in a real book. No one knows better than he does how fake everything can be on the internet.
What a lucky state of affairs that he’d never cleaned up that garden. It’s filled with so many good things.
He stares at the pictures and taxonomic names until he gets a headache. The pain is right above his eyes, beneath the brows, and it feels like his nerves are exploding.
Closing his eyes, he sits back in the chair. Not his chair—it’s Allison’s. He has moved into her office to work, only recently realizing that she had the better space. A better chair, too. It belongs to him now.
But he’s not thinking about Allison for long. In his mind, he sees the Bugle.
The issue came out today at noon, as always, so everyone could read it at lunchtime. Teddy did. He sat in his classroom, first reading Zach’s article about the memorial. He read it three times, searching for similarities to the essays Zach had turned in.
If he were 100 percent honest, he’d have to say the styles were similar. Thankfully, though, no one was putting him under oath, so he didn’t have to be honest. Not even to himself.
And Zach did mention Teddy’s name, because he’ll be speaking at the memorial.
Sucking up again.
He’s always been an ass-kisser—that’s how he gets away with being so cocky. Like the way he gives all of his teachers a Christmas gift. Teddy hasn’t received one yet, because this is his first semester with Zach, but one will be coming his way in December. Last year, Zach gave each one of his teachers a Montblanc pen engraved with their name.
Teddy saw them in the lounge. He specifically remembers Sonia mentioning that it was the nicest, most thoughtful gift she had received from a student. And that was saying something. Belmont students aren’t cheap.
Unlike Sonia, he isn’t moved by this kind of thing. Whatever Zach gives this year won’t improve Teddy’s opinion of him.
There’s also an article in the Bugle about Sonia. Her ten-year anniversary party has become so elaborate, a special committee has been set up just to organize everything.
With his eyes still closed, Teddy scoffs out loud.
It wasn’t that long ago that he had his own ten-year anniversary at Belmont. The only party they’d had for him was in the teachers’ lounge, where someone had hung up a cheap congratulations banner and set out a plastic container of cupcakes from the grocery store. Teddy’s ten-year pin showed up in his department mailbox.
But Sonia is different. As a former Belmont student, she’s part of the family.
And she’s rich, too. She doesn’t even have to work, but she does, which makes it even worse.
Teddy opens his eyes, massaging his temples to try and get rid of the pain. He goes back to work identifying the plants in his yard. Earlier in the week, he’d used the sap from creeping juniper, which is what made Sonia so sick.
But there are so many other possibilities.
* * *
THE DRESS FITS.
Sonia doesn’t try it on until Friday, just in case the extra day makes a difference in her size. But when she slips it on first thing in the morning, it fits almost like it did when she first bought it. Sure, it’s a little tight around the hips and it rides up a little on her legs, but it fits.
“You look nice.”
Mark has just come out of the bathroom. He’s wearing no shirt with his pajama bottoms. They’re pulled down low because of his tummy. She’s not the only one who has gained weight over the years.
“Thank you,” she says, slipping into a pair of spiky heels. Not shoes she would normally wear to school, but today isn’t a normal day.
“Ready for the big party?” he says.
“Absolutely.”
“You sure you don’t want me there?”
No. No, she does not. This day belongs to her, and her alone. Not to Dr. Mark Benjamin, PhD and professor at Stanhope University. The same Dr. Benjamin who publishes an academic paper once a year. Yes, she loves him and, yes, she is proud of him, but in a roomful of educators, he is always the star.
Not today.
“Oh, spouses don’t usually come to these things,” she says. “It’s a school thing.”
“All right.” He leans forward to kiss her, but she moves, not wanting him to mess up her lipstick. He kisses her on the top of her head. “Congratulations. You deserve this party after all your hard work.”
Yes. Yes, she does.
She walks down the stairs, taking her time so as not to twist her ankle wearing those high heels, and goes straight to her car. No breakfast this morning—there will be plenty of food at the party. No, the soiree.
On the way to school, Sonia smiles as she thinks about that word. Sure, it’s a daytime party and not an evening affair, but it’s still a soiree. And she’s the guest of honor.
She parks and gets right out of her car, not bothering to repeat her mantra. Of course today will be a good day.
20
IT’S VERY EARLY, at least thirty minutes before Sonia usually arrives. Frank, the math teacher, walks toward the front door. He’s always here before everyone else, because it’s quiet and he can get his work done. Since he has a toddler at home, she can understand why.
Ingrid Ross’s SUV is parked by the side door, the back of it still open. Ingrid comes out of the building wearing her usual yoga pants, and Sonia feels a pang of jealousy. Ingrid gave birth to a child and still looks better than Sonia ever has.
She takes a deep breath, reminding herself that Ingrid is setting up a party for her.
Her intention is to go straight to her classroom. The official pin ceremony isn’t until lunch. She walks down the hall, pausing just briefly outside the dining hall. The Stafford Room is on the other side of it.
No. She’s not going to check on things. It’s not her place.
Sonia continues to her classroom, puts all her things down, and heads for the teachers’ lounge to get her coffee.
Instead, she ends up at the door to the dining hall. Maybe it would be okay to take a quick peek, since it’s so early.
As soon as she walks into the Stafford Room, Ingrid sees her.
“Sonia! Congratulations on your big day.” She walks over and gives Sonia a brief hug. Their bodies barely touch. “We’re still setting up.”
Sonia nods, smiling as she looks around. A long table has been covered with a linen cloth and topped with a series of tiny roses inside glass bowls. Two of the other moms are hanging a large congratulations banner above it. Although
the room is only half-decorated, it already looks amazing. Sonia should have known it would; Ingrid never does anything halfway. “This is lovely. Really, thank you so much,” she says.
“Oh, of course. It’s our pleasure.”
“I just wanted to stop by and thank you,” she says. “I’ll leave you to it and get ready for class.”
“Absolutely. We’ll see you soon.”
Sonia takes one more look around before turning to the door. She opens it and finds a woman standing there with her arms full.
The woman looks startled at first and then says, “Sonia! Congratulations!”
Sonia recognizes her as Connor’s mother. “Thank you so much. I’ll see you later.” She holds the door open for her to enter. She has a coffee machine in one hand and a jumbled box of coffee pods in the other.
* * *
ZACH TAKES HIS time after fourth period. He doesn’t rush to put away his things or grab his phone, and he stops in the hallway to scroll through his messages. While everyone else heads to the dining hall for lunch, he lags behind, waiting for the hallways to clear.
On a normal day, the teachers would still be around, working in their classrooms or heading up to the lounge. Today, they’re all going to Mrs. B’s anniversary party. All Zach has to do is wait for everyone to clear out.
Once they have, he heads straight to Crutcher’s classroom.
The desk has been cleared off, and there’s no sign of his laptop. Zach knew it wouldn’t be here, because Crutcher is the type who would lock it up. Like anyone would steal that ancient computer.
He’s more interested in what Crutcher keeps in his desk.
Between the Bleak House paper and the letter he sent with it, he should’ve been removed from Crutcher’s shit list. Any other teacher would’ve done it, but not this one. Zach didn’t even get a thank-you email. Nothing, just nothing.
Which pissed Zach off. If he couldn’t get Crutcher to like him by working hard, he’d find another way.
Even if it meant a little snooping. Some might call it an invasion of privacy. His dad wouldn’t.
Know your enemy better than he knows himself.
Zach shuts the door to the classroom and sits down at Crutcher’s desk, pulling open the center drawer. First impression: It’s a lot messier than he’d expected. Pens, Post-its, and scraps of paper are all jumbled together. He has a collection of odd erasers, including a pink butterfly and a bumblebee, which were probably left behind by students. Zach rummages around, finding two calculators, three pencil sharpeners, and highlighters in every color. Nothing of interest.
He moves to the drawer on the right. This one is filled with books—Moby Dick, The Outsiders, The Scarlet Letter. Zach flips through them, looking for notes, and finds nothing. Underneath the books, copies of the syllabuses for all of Crutcher’s classes. Nothing good in those.
Zach isn’t looking for something specific. He’s looking for anything he can use to get on Crutcher’s good side.
He moves to the drawer on the left. A stack of takeout menus—mostly Chinese food and delis. Underneath those, he finds another book:
Local Flora & Fauna: A Field Guide
Gardening.
Zach wouldn’t have guessed Crutcher was the gardening type, but at least it’s something. The first thing he’s learned about Crutcher’s personal life.
A business card is stuck in the book, maybe as a bookmark. Zach reads the name on the front:
Dr. Leo Tobin
Fertility Specialist
And that’s the second thing he has learned about Crutcher: He and his wife are trying to have a baby.
21
THE STAFFORD ROOM looks ridiculous.
Teddy hadn’t gone down there all day, on purpose, because he was already tired of hearing Sonia’s name. But he wouldn’t miss the lunchtime ceremony for anything.
He stands just inside the door, taking it all in.
The room has been decorated from corner to corner, from the huge congratulations banner to the roses on the tables. Not to mention the toy bobcats. Those little creatures are everywhere.
Most of the teachers are already here, along with a number of parents from the Collaborative. Ingrid Ross is front and center, right where she should be.
A number of students are also in attendance, mostly those who work on the paper, including Courtney. She and her mother are on opposite sides of the room.
“This is quite a shindig,” Frank says, walking up next to Teddy. The math teacher looks both wired and pumped, like he was just doing push-ups out in the hall.
“Yes, everything looks nice,” Teddy says.
“Try the sandwiches.” He holds one up. “Salmon, I think.”
“Salmon? Really?”
“Tastes like it.”
Salmon. Teddy wants to scoff, but he holds it in. He certainly didn’t get salmon at his party.
From where he stands, he can see the giant cake. Three tiers, almost like a wedding cake, and personalized just for Sonia. It’s as over-the-top as everything else in the room, and Teddy feels a strong urge to run his finger through the icing.
When Ms. Marsha enters the room, the room quiets down. She is the gatekeeper, the one who controls who sees—or doesn’t see—the headmaster. Her appearance means he is on his way.
Even Teddy straightens up when he walks in the door. A few others do the same. He’s not a tall man, but he is imposing. It’s the posture, no doubt. Ex-military.
After greeting Sonia, the headmaster turns to the group. “First, let me thank the Collaborative for organizing this fine event.” The headmaster’s voice is deep. Commanding. When he speaks, there’s no doubt he is in charge.
Or so he thinks. Teddy smiles. This really might be his favorite day ever at Belmont.
“Now to the reason we are all here,” says the headmaster. He turns to Sonia, who looks so excited, she might spin off into another galaxy. “As you all know, Sonia Benjamin attended Belmont—”
Bang! The table of food shakes, and people rush to steady it. Everyone turns to see what happened.
Ingrid.
She is standing at one end of the table, looking a bit embarrassed. Her face is red, her eyes wide. She bends over and picks up a plastic bottle filled with something green. Tea, probably. All the yoga moms drink green tea.
“Sorry,” she whispers. “I dropped it.”
Courtney is on the other side of the room, and she looks like she wants to die.
Teddy isn’t sure whom he pities more, Courtney or her mother, but it sure as hell isn’t Sonia. She looks a bit angry.
The headmaster starts up again. “As I was saying, Sonia Benjamin attended Belmont Academy and then went on to . . .”
He drones on, listing her whole résumé, and Teddy tunes it all out. Instead, he watches Sonia, looking for signs of his latest experiment. So far, she looks happy and fine—and not sick at all.
Disappointing. Very disappointing. Perhaps he shouldn’t have tried something new today of all days. Maybe it takes too long to work. Or perhaps he didn’t use enough.
With a sigh, he looks over at Ingrid. Her face is still pink with embarrassment, and it makes Teddy smile. He looks down at her hands, which are gripping the table.
The table.
For the first time, he notices the coffee cup. No, the coffee cups.
They’re everywhere.
One is right in front of Ingrid. It’s almost empty.
The others are scattered about: on the table, in people’s hands, on the counter. Right next to a one-cup coffee maker. A box of coffee pods is next to it.
Must be a new box. It’s not as if these mothers would take pods from upstairs. They certainly can afford to buy them.
Teddy turns his attention back to the headmaster, who is still going on and on.
“And after earni
ng her master’s degree, she went on to work with . . .”
He can’t help but look back over at the counter. That box of coffee pods is calling to him, because it isn’t right. Boxes are stacked tight with pods, all fitted in to maximize the space. This one looks different.
The pods appear to be thrown in, all jumbled and disorganized. As if someone threw them in after gathering them from . . . somewhere else.
No. No, no, it’s not possible. Teddy shakes his head, telling himself not to be ridiculous. He’s just making things up because the headmaster’s speech is so boring.
But he can’t shake that sick feeling in his stomach, and it’s not from coffee.
“And I am very proud and honored to congratulate Sonia on her ten-year anniversary. It is an incredible achievement.” The headmaster turns toward Ms. Marsha, who hands him a small velvet box. The pin. The all-important pin.
Teddy is wearing his.
The headmaster opens the box, revealing the pin, and Teddy checks his watch. This is taking so—
A scream interrupts that thought.
It comes from over on the right, where Ingrid is standing. Was standing.
She has collapsed on the floor.
22
TEDDY CAN’T MOVE. Everything in front of him is still moving, but he has frozen. Almost like he’s watching a thriller on a life-size screen:
Ingrid, completely unconscious, a trickle of blood on her forehead from the fall. Surrounded by people, none of whom know what to do.
Ms. Marsha, calling 911.
Sonia, in that too-tight red dress. She looks thunderstruck.
All because of Teddy. He isn’t sure if he should laugh or cry, so he does neither as it all plays out in front of him.
For Your Own Good Page 7
