“How long have you been teaching?” Sam asked.
“Since I got out of college. About ten years. What about you?”
“I’ve got a couple of years on you.” He peered down at Abby, who was perfectly content to get to know that hydrant for another half hour or so. “Sheesh, Abby! You think we could move on?”
Abby glowered at him as if she were insulted, then trotted ahead.
“I think you kind of ticked her off.” Sophie laughed.
“I think you’re right, although it wouldn’t be the first time she’s given me the cold shoulder. That’s a woman for you.”
He was so laid back. So opposite her. She could see why he would have a good rapport with kids. She couldn’t imagine anything getting under his skin. Was that the reason she had this strange need to seek counsel from him? There was something about Sam that gave her the idea he had a few things figured out that she didn’t.
The few last cicadas of the season buzzed in the trees as they strolled along. Allured by his repose, Sophie felt compelled to watch him. He was not the least bit bothered by their silence, completely relaxed and at ease. Most people would feel the need to keep the conversation moving, unless they had known each other for a really long time, like an old married couple. Sophie would fall under the category of most people, for she tried to think of something to talk about that didn’t involve picking his brain.
“Yes, Sophie?” He grinned without turning her way.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“I can feel your eyes boring a hole into . . . I think it’s my earlobe,” he said, pulling on his ear.
“If you don’t want to talk about work, just say so.”
“We can talk about anything you want.”
They were now approaching the neighborhood shopping center that was right across the street from a baseball park. Sam was going to find it hard to believe she’d been teaching as long as she had, since the things she wanted to discuss were matters she should have figured out by now, which again, was why she wondered if she belonged in a classroom.
“Well, do you ever question if your interactions with your students are . . . appropriate?” she asked.
The confusion and alarm in his face made her realize her words hadn’t come out right.
“No, no, no!” She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut. “That’s not what I meant. What I meant was, I constantly question my expectations of them.”
Sam’s shoulders dropped with relief. “Oh!”
“You know what I’m saying, though? Sometimes I think, ah, they’re just kids. No real harm in what they’re saying, doing, whatever. ‘Cause you know how they are. They do things to get a reaction, and if you make a big deal out of it, it only encourages them.”
“Oh, yeah. They like to do that.”
“But then other times, I’m like—no. That is just unacceptable. And then I wonder if I’m making a big deal out of nothing. And I ask myself, if another teacher were in my room, would they think I’m being too uptight, other times too easy? Those kids have always got me so tangled up inside my head.”
Sam stopped and put his hand on her shoulder, before giving her a gentle shake. “You worry too much!”
“I know,” she replied sheepishly, folding her arms across her chest. “My sister says that all the time.”
His hand wandered to the back of her neck, and goose bumps prickled her arms at his unexpected touch.
“She’s right,” he said softly. “Stop worrying so much, and stop worrying about what other people would think. Everyone’s got their own tolerances, their own style, and the way I hear kids talk about your class, I think you’re doing just fine.”
She felt kind of ridiculous, and hoped he didn’t think she had been fishing for compliments. “Thanks.”
“So,” he continued. “I’m going to kiss you now. Just thought I’d warn you. I don’t want you to get freaked out like the last time.”
Sophie’s eyes widened. “Okay.”
“You have pretty blue eyes, you know that?” The brush of his thumb tickled the skin just below her ear.
When she emptied her mind of all else, it was as if they shared a secret, except Sophie wasn’t sure what the secret was. The moon cast its brilliance, giving Sam’s crisp white shirt a kind of glow as Sophie mindlessly fooled with his pocket. Abby whimpered softly and tried to nudge her way in between them as Sam leaned in. His lips were warm on hers, his kiss more amorous than the first. No visions this time, no daydreams. Just the simple bliss of being the object of his affection.
Nine
“I am so looking forward to relaxing this weekend,” Evelyn said as she carried her shopping bags. “Even if we are staying in town.”
“Christian will be beside himself when he sees you in that dress,” Sophie raved.
Evie lifted her shoulders in girlish excitement, grinning with anticipation. It had been quite some time since she and Christian shared a romantic weekend. They would celebrate their anniversary at the Paris Hotel.
“I have to hand it to you two.” Sophie sipped her frappuccino. “Thirteen years is definitely an accomplishment these days.” They strolled through the mall; they had planned the day so Sophie could help her shop for the occasion.
“Tell me all about your new man,” Evie prompted.
Sophie’s face brightened. “I like him. A lot.”
“Really! So when do I get to meet this lucky guy?”
“I don’t know.” Sophie sighed. “New boyfriends are almost always great in the beginning. I’m kinda waiting to find out if he’s going to stay that way. God, I hope so. ‘Cause it’s really gonna suck if it doesn’t work out and I have to see him at work every day.”
Evie glanced into the entrance of an art gallery then slowed to a stop when something caught her attention. Sophie must not have noticed that she’d come to a halt because she ran into Evie, jabbing herself in the face with her straw.
Christian was inside, speaking with an extremely attractive woman with long red hair and porcelain skin. Evie stared, trying to make sense out of what she was seeing. Maybe it was some sort of professional exchange relating to Christian’s work, but it certainly didn’t seem that way. The woman was laughing flirtatiously, and Christian was standing very, very close to her as they spoke. Evie felt sick. She shifted her eyes toward Sophie to see if she witnessed it, too. Sophie was gazing into the gallery, her attention locked on them. Evie peeked back in time to see Christian put his hand on the woman’s elbow, then lean in and say something in her ear.
Evie started walking at a wicked pace, escaping the scene as quickly as she could.
“Evie!” Sophie called.
She ignored her sister and marched in the direction of the parking garage, when Sophie caught up to her.
“Evie, go talk to him!”
“And what exactly am I supposed to say?”
“Maybe you’re jumping to conclusions. That may have been something completely innocent.”
“Sophie, don’t patronize me. Please.” She knew Sophie was only defending him for her sake, because she didn’t want to see her hurt. The only reason Sophie was doing an about-face where Christian was concerned was because of the disagreement they’d had weeks before. Evie knew there was something wrong with what they saw. They both did.
Evelyn was silent as she drove the two of them home, while Sophie continued to play with the straw in her cup, jiggling it to try to loosen the last bit of ice on the bottom, making an annoying squeaking sound. Evie shot her a look.
“Sorry.” Sophie eyed the high rises as they drove the I-15. “This town is unrecognizable from when we grew up, huh? I don’t even know what half these buildings are anymore.”
Evie stared straight ahead, keeping her eyes on the road.
“Evie,” Sophie began. “Has Christian said anything to you about trying to get his work into a gallery?”
“No.”
“That could be all it was. Maybe he hasn’t said anything
because he didn’t want you to be disappointed if it didn’t work out.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Except for the fact that he was looking at that woman the same way he looks at me. She appreciated the fact that Sophie tried to paint the whole thing in a positive light, but it wasn’t working. “Sophie, I know you’re trying to help, but I can’t talk about it right now. I’m just trying to figure out what I’m going to say to him.”
***
Evie would likely pay for the three glasses of wine she had once she got home, but she would deal with the lupus flare if and when it happened. Now that she had some time to calm down and sit with her thoughts, she wasn’t entirely convinced he was up to something. Then again, it could simply be that she didn’t want to accept the possibility. Between her illness and his, these last five years had been rough. How often she wished she no longer had feelings for him, for as much as she hated to admit it, the relationship was taking its toll on her.
She lay on the couch holding her wine glass, her other arm stretched above her, when Christian came through the front door.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he said before noticing the glass in her hand. When he made his way over, he sat on the coffee table across from her and frowned. “What’s up?”
She said nothing as she rubbed her head.
He took the glass and set it on the table. “Babe?”
Evie breathed in deeply, hoping that her voice wouldn’t quiver when she spoke. “I was at the mall shopping with Sophie today, and we saw you in that gallery, talking with . . . someone.”
His forehead scrunched a few seconds. “Tall redhead?”
She pressed her lips together and covered her eyes.
“Evie.” He gently pulled her hand from her face and took it in his. “I don’t know what you thought you saw, but that’s what’s called schmoozing. I didn’t want to say anything. Tara, the person you saw, is the director of the gallery and an acquaintance of Mom’s. Mom convinced her to agree to meet with me so I could show her my work, and possibly get it in the gallery.”
Evie needed to believe him, but didn’t want to be taken for a fool. “If that was schmoozing, then what were the terms?”
“Seriously?”
She sat up on the sofa. “You’ve told me that I need to leave, so maybe you’re just trying to make it easier.”
“I can’t believe this.” Exasperated, Christian stood and began pacing. “I thought you would be happy that I’ve actually taken some steps to do something.”
“It didn’t look right.”
Christian shook his head as if she were out of her mind, making her all the more apprehensive. “Evie, I wouldn’t do that,” he said, looking her in the eye. “I already bring you enough grief.”
“Stop saying that! If you’re the one who wants to leave, then leave.” She picked up her glass and leaned sideways against the back of the sofa, drawing her knees to her chest.
Christian sighed. He sat down behind her, rested his chin on her shoulder and wrapped his arm around her waist. “Do you honestly think anyone else is going to be crazy enough to put up with me?”
“It seemed like you were doing all right.”
“C’mon,” he whispered. He gave her a squeeze, before pushing her hair behind her ear. “It’s always been you. Since high school. How can you not know that?”
She remembered. He had such a huge crush on her back then, so awkward and adorable. She fondly envisioned the rail-thin boy with braces, carrying around that sketchbook everywhere he went.
One day after class, he had handed her a folded piece of spiral notebook paper. Assuming it was a note, she opened it to find a masterful sketch he had done of her while sitting at his desk. He’d already slipped away before she could say anything.
But he had succeeded in leaving his imprint on her heart.
Evelyn released a breath and turned her face toward him. “I’m sorry.” She suddenly felt as if she had blown this whole thing out of proportion.
“For what?” He kissed her ear. “Now, let’s get rid of this,” he said, taking her wine to the kitchen.
Ten
Sophie arrived in the private courtyard of the school a few minutes early to start setting up drinks for the pizza lunch, which rewarded a handful of students each month. Students could earn citizenship stamps, and a certain number of stamps would buy them various rewards, the lunch being one of them. She lined up the plastic red cups, each row having a different flavored soda.
Her head was all over the place. She’d purposely refrained from calling Evie, allowing her to initiate any conversation regarding Christian, and it was killing her. Killing her! Then there was Sam, and that blissful but indescribable first kiss she couldn’t discard. Though nothing out of the ordinary had happened since, her thoughts often returned to that night. There was no making sense of it. And guessing his middle name? What was that about?
Giving herself a headache, she decided to shift her attention to the daily grind, and tried to come up with an effective way to get her loud-mouthed eighth graders to come in after lunch at a reasonable volume, without having to bellow at them. Over the years, she had discovered that the louder she was, the louder they got. After a while they were immune to the yelling. Besides, all that carrying on made Sophie feel worse. These days, she kept her shouting to a minimum. When she did have to resort to it, her students were usually stunned into silence because it was such a rare occurrence.
What happened to kids anyway? Or was it the adults who had changed? At the end of each year, some of her students would tease her about how relieved she would be once they were gone. Her response was always that she would miss them as individuals. But as a group? Not so much. That didn’t apply to all her classes, of course. The truth of the matter was that the majority of the kids were positively delightful when relating with them on a one-to-one basis.
On the other hand, the manner in which many of them interacted with each other was often obnoxious. Rude, gossipy, and mean, no matter how much Sophie preached to them. These were the times in which Sophie wondered if she took them too seriously, because they always argued it was just their way of playing with each other. Sophie didn’t care, or buy it, for that matter. Why did playing around have to involve cutting to the bone?
Sophie was just thankful she was at a school whose students were relatively well-behaved, for she’d heard horror stories from those who had come from truly awful places. Like their principal once said, at worst, the students here were rambunctious.
One by one, students began filtering into the courtyard, where they took seats at one of the tables and waited to be called to get their pizza. It was always a small group, about thirty kids.
Sophie responded to the occasional “thank you” as the students picked up their food, and she proceeded to stack the empty pizza boxes underneath the table. After the students were all seated and eating, Sophie leaned on the outer window sill and sat quietly.
She watched one boy in particular, who was seated with a table of girls, but didn’t really speak with any of them. He was quiet, not terribly big. There were three boys sitting at the next table, joking about something amongst themselves. Sophie couldn’t be sure, but she got the distinct impression that they were talking about the other boy. One student from the small group, wearing a red jacket, got up to get more pizza and stopped along the way, saying something to the boy. She didn’t like Red Jacket’s menacing expression.
The boy who was seated remained unexpressive, then stood and took his plate and cup to the garbage. He was actually taller than she realized, but quite skinny. Clearly not wanting to return to his seat, the dishwater blond whose hoodie was two sizes too big for him approached Sophie.
“How are you today?” he asked.
“I’m good.” She smiled. “And how are you?”
“Just wonderful! My name is Ian.” He held his hand out to her.
“Nice to meet you, Ian. I’m Miss Cook.” She was completely taken off guard by the politeness and maturity of
this boy.
“It’s pretty hot out today.” He was wearing black, and it was unusually warm for fall. “Do you mind if I stand over here by you in the shade?”
“Not at all.” It didn’t take long to notice the somewhat feminine quality to his speech, and Sophie was quickly beginning to understand the scene she had witnessed.
“So what do you teach, Miss Cook?” he asked, genuinely interested.
“Computers. I’m the room right next to the library.”
“Oh, yes. I know where that is. Do you like teaching computers?” On and on he continued this conversation with her, asking how long she’d been teaching, how long she’d been at the school, and whether she enjoyed it. He was absolutely charming; students this age rarely took the initiative to express interest in an adult. She hated being so cynical by wondering if there was some ulterior motive. However, he was not a student of hers, so there couldn’t have been a kissing-up factor involved, at least, none that she was aware of. Although she understood he was escaping the company of his peers, he could have as easily droned on about video games or some T.V. show. Instead, he graciously focused the conversation on her.
A little bit of a breeze kicked up, blowing some of the empty cups into a planter.
“Excuse me,” Sophie said as she went to pick them up.
“I’ll get them.” Ian eagerly jumped into the planter to start collecting them.
Wherever did this little dude come from? He is an angel! He stayed behind to assist her with cleaning up after most of the students had gone, helping her fold table cloths and take left over supplies into the teachers’ lounge.
“Ian, it was a pleasure to meet you, and it was great talking with you today,” Sophie said, shaking his hand again before heading back to her class.
“It was nice talking with you, too, Miss Cook. Have a good day!” He threw the last couple of paper plates into the garbage, then waved before disappearing through the door.
Those are the kids you need to focus on when you think you’ve had it. It was kind of ironic, for she and Sam had a conversation about this very thing. She had gone in Sam’s class once to watch him in action, and she wondered how he stayed so patient and calm. Not that the kids were doing anything horrible, but his composure definitely had a rippling effect.
Somewhere Between Black and White Page 5
