by Ali Parker
“Thanks for an interesting class,” I told her.
“You’re welcome,” she answered, still not looking at me.
“See you around.”
“Yep.”
I shook my head, a little irritated with the way things had worked out but figuring it was best to let it go. I walked out of the classroom and headed down the hall. Instead of going back to my truck, I headed to the building where her office was.
I checked the door handle, found it unlocked and walked inside. I glanced around the room and then left, closing the door behind me and heading towards the parking lot. I sat in my truck for a few seconds, looking around.
I wasn’t sure I would be back. I hadn’t yet decided if I wanted to pursue another degree. The one class had showed me I could do it if I wanted to. I wasn’t too old to learn something new. I just wasn’t sure I wanted to commit to something like that.
I had Olin to think of. If he did decide to play ball, I wanted to be available to be at every single one of his games. I wanted to be there for him if he needed me. If I was busy pursuing my own life, I would be stretched thin. I didn’t want Olin to think he was taking a backseat. He was my sole focus. He needed me.
I could go back to school in a couple of years, once Olin graduated. If I wanted to. I wasn’t sure I was up for the drama that seemed to accompany college life. I had heard the gossip as I moved through the halls. It was hard to miss. I really did feel too old for that nonsense.
If I was being honest with myself, I didn’t want to see Leila again. Not because I didn’t want to see her, but because I didn’t want to be reminded of something I couldn’t have. She was a good woman, pretty, young, and deserving of a man who could devote all his time to her.
I drove home and got busy packing. We weren’t going to be taking much, considering we had left the majority of our winter clothes at the house in Minnesota. We flew out first thing in the morning. I was looking forward to the idea of home, but it hadn’t really felt like home for a long time.
I had ordered a few gifts for Olin and had them sent to the house in Minnesota. I wanted to make it a special holiday and had probably splurged a bit on him. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to do it this one time. Carlie and I had always been very careful about making Olin earn what he got. We didn’t want to spoil him. Our wealth made it very easy to do that.
Chapter 22
Leila
I had finished my last class for the year. I was officially on break. It was freeing and alienating at the same time. I liked teaching. I liked the interactions. I liked having somewhere to be. If I was smart, I would take advantage of the break and get some of those little projects done around the house. Unfortunately, I had been saying that with every break, and usually very little actually got done.
I shut the door to the class and headed for my office. I would spend the night grading tests, which might not sound exciting to some people, but I was thrilled with the idea. I liked the quiet nights at home when I could burn a fire in the fireplace and sip wine while wearing my pajamas. Grading papers could be cathartic at times.
Other times it could be a serious headache, but mostly, I liked to see the fruits of my labor. I liked to see how much or how little of an impression I made on my students. I needed to pick up a couple of things from my office, swing by the grocery store to get supplies for my mini-hibernation, and then home I went.
The second I walked in I saw the gift sitting on my desk. It was wrapped with shiny gold paper and had a huge red bow on it. My initial thought was it had to be from the dean. I put down my briefcase, staring at the gift like it was a dangerous viper sitting on my desk.
I didn’t get gifts. Kami gave me things on occasion, but I didn’t know anyone who would leave me a prettily wrapped gift on my desk. It made me nervous.
I crept forward and picked up the flat box, gently shaking it and listening for sounds that would indicate it was something dangerous. I heard nothing. I decided to throw caution to the wind and removed the lid, staring down at the framed picture of my class.
I smiled, staring at the smiling faces and silly gestures some of the students were making in the picture. My eyes immediately went to Christopher’s face. He looked happy, but he had that familiar expression on his face that said his mind was elsewhere. He was always thinking about something or someone else.
I put the picture down and picked up the folded paper that had accompanied the gift.
“Everyone should have a picture in their office,” the note read.
I recognized the handwriting. It was Christopher’s. I smiled, appreciating the gesture. I put the note down and saw a separate paper that had been folded and stuck inside the tissue paper wrapped around the frame.
I picked it up, recognizing the same handwriting. It was a personal note to me.
“The picture is from all of us, not just me,” I read aloud. “Please don’t toss it. It was a joint idea. We all appreciated the class and tossed around ideas. I hope you will hang it in your office.”
I smiled, thinking back to the day we had talked about my lack of personal items. He’d remembered.
“Thank you for being a really great teacher. I thoroughly enjoyed the class. You made a subject that I imagine could have easily been very boring, exciting and interesting. You have a skill and I hope you will continue to do what you love. I am sorry for everything. Truly sorry. I never meant for things to go where they did. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Good luck to you in your future endeavors. Maybe I’ll see you around the lake this summer. Take care of yourself, Christopher.”
I held the note in my hands, rereading it several times over. “Shit,” I mumbled, shoving the note into the pocket of my cardigan sweater. I grabbed the few things I needed, picked up my briefcase and headed out, locking the door behind me.
I got in my car, not even thinking about where I was going, and drove straight to Kami’s house. It was where I always went when I was stressed out. I saw her car in the driveway and headed up the front walk. I knocked once and let myself in.
Kami popped her head out of the kitchen, flour covering the apron she was wearing. “One of these days you are going to get shot.”
“You wouldn’t shoot me.”
“I don’t know if you’re an intruder. I’m a single woman living alone. I’m vulnerable.”
“You’re about as vulnerable as a rabid porcupine,” I shot back.
She raised an eyebrow. “What has gotten into you?”
I reached into my pocket and waved the paper. “This.”
She wiped her hands on her apron and took it from me. “What is it? A signed confession? A pink slip?”
“Worse,” I groaned, flopping down in one of the wooden chairs at the old farm table.
She stood, reading the note and slowly shaking her head. “Dang. I don’t think he’s such a bad guy after all.”
“I know,” I groaned. “That’s the problem.”
“Today was your last day of classes, right?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Then he is no longer your student. You need to talk to him.”
I shook my head. “I can’t. He might still be a student at the university. I don’t want to blur the lines.”
“Screw the lines. This is your happiness we are talking about. He sounds like a good man. You enjoyed the little time you got with him. Don’t you think you owe yourself the chance to get to know him better?”
“No. I almost died from the guilt of what we did. I couldn’t think about going down that road again.”
She sat down across from me. “Maybe your first idea was the right thing to do.”
“What idea was that?”
“To talk with the dean. Let him know you met Christopher in class, and you would like to see him outside of the university on your off time.”
“No!” I shrieked. “Are you crazy!”
“You were the one who wanted to tell him what had happened.”
I shook my head.
“I got over it. The class is done. I want to keep it my little secret.”
“Keep your secret,” she said easily. “Tell the dean you are interested in dating Christopher. Don’t tell him you banged the guy in the library. Sheesh. You know you don’t have to tell everyone every little detail.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not telling everyone. I told you.”
“Talk to him.”
“I don’t have his number.”
“I’m sure you could get it.”
“He has my number,” I told her.
She looked surprised. “He does? You gave it to him even though you told him you could never see him?”
I grinned. “It’s on my email. I emailed him a couple of weeks ago. If he was smart, which I know he is, he would look for it there.”
“But why should he look for it? You are the one who should be calling him and apologizing for being a fruitcake.”
I scowled at her. “I’m not a fruitcake.”
“He was trying to talk to you after the incident in the library and you pushed him away. You just told me about how cold you had been towards him the other night at dinner.”
“I wasn’t being mean, and it was for the best,” I insisted.
“And now you know it wasn’t for the best. He was never going to blackmail you or go to the dean. You knew that then and you know it for sure now. You’re just doing what you always do.”
“What do I always do?”
“You run in the opposite direction of love,” she stated softly.
I opened my mouth to deny it and then snapped it shut. “This wasn’t love.”
“But it could have been. You haven’t clicked with a man in a long time. You got scared. You turned tail and ran.”
She was right. We both knew it, but I would never admit it. “Love is a strong word. I did like him and you’re right about one part. I ran because I know I like my job and I didn’t want to risk it on a dalliance. If I thought there could be something real between us, then maybe I would do the talk to the dean thing, but I don’t think he’s interested. Not anymore.”
“You won’t know until you ask.”
“No way. I’m not going to call him. What am I supposed to say?”
She smiled. “You’re thinking about it.”
“No, I’m not. It would be like eating crow. No thanks.”
“I’d eat crow if I could have a shot at love with a hunky dude who made me burn.”
I rolled my eyes. “You would eat anything in the first place. I can’t. I burned the bridge. You know when I ice someone out, I really ice them out.”
“You can be a cold bitch,” she agreed.
“Thanks.”
“You said it, not me. I can’t force you to do the right thing, but I can tell you over and over to do the right thing. Take a day, but then call him.”
I let out a long sigh. “Any other place. Why couldn’t I have met him somewhere else?”
“Because you never go anywhere.”
“Not helping.”
“Stating the facts.”
“I’m going home,” I muttered. “I’m going to put on my pajamas and drink a bottle of wine and watch something really juicy on TV.”
“It’s like noon,” she said.
I shrugged. “So? I’m officially on vacation.”
“I guess that’s good. You deserve a little rest and relaxation.”
“What are you making in there?” I asked, getting up and going into the kitchen.
“You can’t have any.”
“Yes, I can. What is it? Donuts? Something sweet?”
“It’s croissants.”
I scowled at her. “You’re a terrible liar.”
She groaned. “Fine. They are strawberry turnovers.”
My mouth dropped open. “You bitch! You were trying to hide them. Cream cheese?”
“Yes, cream cheese. I was hiding them because last time you told me they made you sick. I was only trying to help you out.”
“I don’t care. I’ll get sick. It was worth it. Where are they?”
She opened a cupboard where she had very obviously stashed the turnovers. I grinned and moved to grab one of the pastry boxes she always had on hand. I popped it open and gently stacked several of the sweet treats inside.
“I don’t want you calling me crying tomorrow when you have a tummy ache,” she warned.
“Not a chance. I’m going to pick up some strawberry wine to go with these.”
She grimaced. “Gross.”
“Oh, I don’t think so. Thank you. You’ve made my day all better.”
“I do what I can. Call him.”
“Talk to you later,” I said, ignoring her words as I headed out the door with my bounty.
I liked food. I wasn’t a skinny Minnie because I liked food. I could be skinny and hungry or fat and happy. I didn’t necessarily believe I was fat. I was healthy and I had some extra curves. I wasn’t at risk of a heart attack. I glanced over at the box of pastries as I headed back down the driveway. The pastries were well worth the extra pounds.
Life was too short not to enjoy cakes and brownies and bacon. If I died tomorrow, I would safely be able to say I had enjoyed my last meal. I doubted the women eating lettuce would be able to say the same. I needed something to take my mind off the mess I had made with Christopher. Wine and food were the perfect solution.
Chapter 23
Christopher
I woke up early. The feeling of being back home in my own bed I had not been as inviting as one would think. It felt wrong. I had just finally gotten used to the new mattress in Texas. The bed in Minnesota was the same bed I had shared with my wife.
It felt strange to be in the house. We’d only been gone a short time, but it already felt different. Like we were visiting a rental and not truly home. At least that was how I felt. Olin had settled right in. He’d spent the last couple days with his friends. I had worried he would get into trouble, but he promised me that was behind him.
I hoped so.
I sipped my coffee, staring out the window at the white landscape. I missed my view in the mornings. I missed seeing the sun coming up. It was snowing again, which I supposed was okay given the day, but I had about enough snow in my lifetime.
I headed into the main living room where Olin and I had set up the huge live tree we had picked out together. We’d decorated it with the ornaments from the attic. Despite our best attempts, it paled in comparison to the way Carlie had decorated in the years past.
“I’m up,” Olin said coming into the room.
“I thought we were going to be opening presents tonight,” I told him with a laugh.
He shrugged, flopping onto the couch. “I’m not a little kid. I’m not going to get up at the buttcrack of dawn to open presents.”
I smiled, remembering the days when he did. “Dawn would have been sleeping in. You got up at three one year.”
He grinned, the first real grin I had seen in a while. “I remember how tired you were. I found out later you’d been up until one putting out the stuff Santa brought me.”
I nodded. “That bike was ridiculous. I had no idea I had to put the stupid thing together.”
“You’re lucky my presents don’t require assembly anymore,” he quipped.
“I think it’s you who is lucky. All that techno crap you always want is way over my head.”
“I’d be answering my headphones instead of my phone,” he joked.
I nodded at the gifts under the tree for him. “Go for it. Dinner is supposed to be delivered at eleven.”
He shook his head. “I can’t believe you had a Christmas dinner catered.”
“Would you have preferred I cooked?” I asked dryly.
“No, definitely not.”
“It was a thing they do every year. I offered to buy the dinner before, but your mom said no way. I was hoping to give her a break.”
“But she liked cooking the big dinner,” he reminded me.
“I kn
ow.”
I watched as he opened the first gift. “Are you going to take pictures of me opening every gift like mom did?” he asked when the flash of my camera phone went off.
I laughed. “Should I?”
“Not necessary.”
“She has about a million pictures of you on her cloud account. And, because she was worried, she would somehow lose access to the pictures, she stored them on a thumb drives as back up. I have an entire box of those things.”
“She did?” he asked with surprise.
I nodded. “Yep. Every newspaper clipping that mentioned your name she saved. Every time you made the Honor Roll and it was mentioned in the school paper, she saved it. I cannot tell you how much stuff she saved. I’m still finding boxes.”
“In the attic?”
“Some in the attic, some in her closet.”
“Are you going to give away her clothes?” he asked in a soft voice.
I blew out a breath. “Do you want me to?”
“I think I’m ready if you are.”
I had been ready for a while, but I didn’t want to rush him in the grief process. “Her friends offered to come by and do it for us. Would you like to do it?”
He shook his head. “No. I don’t want to go through her things. It feels wrong.”
“I agree. I’ll peek in the thousands of shoeboxes she has in there and make sure there aren’t any more special things she had saved.”
“Good idea.”
“You’re sure you’re okay with it? It isn’t hurting anything to leave her clothes where they are.”
He reached for another gift. “No, it’s time. She would have wanted it to go to that women’s shelter she was always volunteering at.”
“Yes, she would. I’ll make the arrangements for it to happen Monday.”
He opened the new pair of headphones I got him, looking aptly surprised and happy. I watched as he opened the remaining gifts. “Are you going to start dating?” he asked.
I blinked. “What?”
“Are you going to start dating? It’s been a year. Don’t you think it’s time you started to look for someone else?”
