Better Than This
Page 23
“It was her blue bird?” Lizzy said eagerly.
“It was. And when he finished singing he flew away again. But every morning he would come back and sing for her.”
“So he still loved her?”
Sarah nodded. “He did. He just needed to be outside flying around. He wasn’t meant to live in a cage.”
“And Daddy didn’t leave because of me?”
“Not at all. He loves you very much and he will always be your daddy.”
Lizzy lay quietly for a moment before looking up at Sarah. “Mommy, can we get a dog?”
Sarah smiled. “You’ve been wanting a dog for a long time, haven’t you?”
“Yeah!” Lizzy sat up and bounced up and down. “Can we get one?”
“You know . . . I think that might be a good idea. Why don’t we talk about it some more tomorrow?”
“Okay!” Lizzy threw her arms around Sarah, then snuggled under the covers. Sarah crawled out of the bed, leaned over, and kissed Lizzy on the forehead.
“Good night, sweetie.”
“Night, Mommy.”
Sarah turned out the light and started to close the door.
“Mommy?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, honey. Sleep tight.” Sarah felt a rush of love and relief as she closed the door. She smiled as she thought about how quickly Lizzy had let go of her fear and moved on to the idea of getting a dog. All she’d needed was a little reassurance.
That’s all I need too. A little reassurance. And confidence. Like I said to Monica: it’s time to create my own happy ending. I don’t have to answer to Robert anymore. We can get a dog. I can take a writing class. And I think I’ll try that jazz class.
Plans continued to percolate in Sarah’s head, and she grew increasingly excited. She would talk to Robert about selling the house and getting something smaller. She’d always wanted something in the older part of town. Something with character and high-quality craftsmanship. A cozy cottage or a bungalow, maybe. And she would go back to work. It was time. It had been long enough.
Sarah leaned back on her desk and looked out at the sea of faces in her classroom as she discussed the use of symbolism. Some of her students were attentive and engaged. Others seemed bored and indifferent. She didn’t take it personally. English was a required subject for all four years of high school, but she knew it wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea. She’d accepted long ago that her job was about encouraging those kids who enjoyed it or knew it was their passion and maybe inspiring some of the others along the way.
“So, think about the symbolism as you read those chapters tonight, and we’ll talk about it more in class tomorrow,” she said, wrapping up the day’s lesson. She stood up and began to walk around her desk, and the volume in the room went up several notches as her students started packing up to leave. “Oh, and don’t forget that I need your short stories by Wednesday if you want to be entered in the state writing contest!” she called out over the noise.
She’d barely finished her sentence when the bell rang and her students rushed to leave. Sarah made her way over to one of her quieter students. “Amanda. Could I talk to you for a second?”
Amanda followed her back to her desk. “Yes?” she asked, looking a little worried.
“I just wanted to check in about the writing contest. I thought you were going to enter.”
Amanda was looking down slightly, avoiding eye contact. “I-I don’t know,” she stammered. “I really don’t think I have a chance.”
“I wouldn’t have encouraged you to enter if I didn’t think you had a chance. You’re one of the best writers I’ve had in all of my years of teaching.”
Amanda looked up at Sarah, her eyes wide. “Really?”
“Really. You have a distinctive voice; your characterization is rich and your dialogue authentic. So I’d really like you to seriously think about it, okay?”
Amanda’s face brightened. “Okay.” She was almost out the door when she stopped and leaned back into the room. “Mrs. Jenkins . . .”
Sarah looked up. “Yes?”
“It’s good to have you back.”
Sarah smiled. “Thanks, Amanda. It’s good to be back.”
Amanda walked out of the room, and Sarah sat down at her desk. Little did she know. Yes, it was good to be back. And she didn’t only mean at school—
“Hallelujah . . .” Maggie sang out, bouncing through the door.
Sarah looked up and smiled. “Hey there.”
“You’re a sight for sore eyes! It’s been dreadful around here without you.”
“Yeah, I was feeling terribly guilty leaving you here all by yourself.”
“Well, you should!” Maggie said. “You think you were suicidal. I was about ready to ask for your shrink’s phone number.”
Sarah smiled and shook her head.
Maggie dropped the comedy act and became more serious. “Teasing aside, how is it being back?”
“Okay,” Sarah said tentatively—and then, more confidently, “Good, actually.”
“Well, you look great. More relaxed or something.”
Sarah smiled. “Yeah, something like that.”
“They posted the summer school list,” Maggie said, her tone more animated again. “I see you’re abandoning me!”
Sarah scrunched up her face and lifted her shoulders slightly. “Sorry. I want time to hang out with Lizzy and hopefully get moved before school starts up again. And I want to get back to doing some writing, so—I joined a summer writing group.”
“That sounds great,” Maggie said. “It’s about time you did some writing! What have I been telling you forever?”
“I know. I should have listened to you a long time ago.”
“You remember that the next time I give you some advice!”
Sarah smiled. “I will. And if I don’t, I’m sure you’ll remind me!”
“You know it!” Maggie glanced at the clock. “Well, duty calls.” She reached out to give Sarah a hug. “It’s great to have you back.”
“Thanks,” Sarah said, returning the hug. “It feels good to be back.”
Maggie started for the door.
“Hey, Mags?” Sarah called out to her.
Maggie swung around to face her. “Yeah?”
“Thanks again. For everything.”
Maggie cocked her head, raised her eyebrows, and bowed slightly. “Cheer-bully at your service.”
Sarah laughed. “Don’t think I need the bully part anymore.”
Maggie smiled. “You know, I think you’re right.”
Sarah watched her leave and a wave of gratitude flowed over her. She was very lucky to have Maggie in her life. And Kate. They had been so amazing to her through everything. She vowed to try to be the best friend she could be to both of them.
She looked down at the stack of papers on her desk and continued reading. Grading was always a mixed bag. It could be a tedious task at times, but then the occasional exciting breakthrough or piece of writing by a student would make it all worthwhile. This paper was one of those times. The student had struggled with structure all year, but this time it had clicked.
Grade: A. Great job, Michael.
Sarah began to sign off on the top of the paper—Mrs. Jenk—then paused, looking at her signature. No. It’s time for a change. She scratched it out and re-wrote, “Ms. Reynolds.”
Acknowledgements
Acknowledgements, whether in books, awards ceremonies, or in the course of day to day living, have always been important to me. They represent our connection, appreciation, and reliance on one another. Much as it takes a village to raise a child, so too does it take a team to publish a book.
So there are many, far too numerous to name individually, that I would like to thank. First, I want to acknowledge the wonderful She Writes community. I have felt welcomed, supported and encouraged by an amazing group of women writers. To Brooke Warner, Crystal Patriache, and everyone at SheWrites Press
and Booksparks: Thank you for your patience, encouragement, and gentle challenge as I made my way along a very steep learning curve.
To the many friends and family members who offered moral support, brainstormed titles, gave feedback, and tolerated all the time I was MIA because I needed to write, thank you. Each and every one of you played a part in the birthing of this book. A special shout out to my first writing partner, Carolina. This all started with those weekly writing dates many years ago at that wonderful but long departed coffee shop in Sausalito.
To David, Kate, and Steven: Thank you for all your help with editing, technical glitches, creative ideas, social media, and most of all moral support when I needed it most. I couldn’t have done this without you.
About the Author
© Gina Logan Photography
Cathy Zane is a writer, psychotherapist, and former nurse who draws on her many years of working with women and families to create narratives of growth and empowerment. As a lifelong reader, she believes in the power of story to not only entertain but inspire, connect us to our common humanity, and instill hope. Visit her at www.cathyzane.com.
SELECTED TITLES FROM SHE WRITES PRESS
She Writes Press is an independent publishing company founded to serve women writers everywhere.
Visit us at www.shewritespress.com.
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