Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
PRESENT DAY
When the day ends and there’s a knock on my door, I’m half expecting it to be Banks again, but instead, it’s the gym teacher from before, George. He gives a wave through the glass.
“Hey, George.” I prop the door open with the plastic stopper when he passes through.
He turns to face me, standing in front of the students’ desks. “Well, how was your first week?” The wrinkles around his eyes deepen as he grins.
“Really good, actually.” It’s not a lie. Being home has been easier than I expected, and slipping into this role has felt like it’s where I’m meant to be. “The kids are great. And everyone on the staff has been wonderful.”
“I’ve kept an eye out for you in the lounge,” he says, eyes narrowing slightly like he’s trying to figure something out. “But you haven’t been there yet.”
I twist my lips. “It’s weird, I guess. I was never allowed in there before. Maybe I’m still working up the courage.”
He huffs out a laugh. “You want a tour?”
I think about it. “That would be nice, actually.”
George holds out an arm, gesturing for me to lead the way, and together we head down the mostly quiet hall toward the teachers’ lounge.
I can’t help myself—I watch for Banks. Looking expectantly around every corner, in every classroom.
He teaches fifth grade, so he’s in an entirely different part of the building, but that doesn’t stop the hope from swelling inside me.
George clasps his hands behind his back. “The grapevine says you’ve moved home from Atlanta.”
“The suburbs, yeah. Roswell area, if you’re familiar.”
He doesn’t say whether he is or not, just gives a small nod. “Your family must be glad to have you home. Your…parents? Siblings?”
“It’s just my mom. Well, there’s…” Then I decide it’s too complicated to explain Margie, Cory, and Will. “Yeah, mostly just my mom. And yes, she’s thrilled.”
“You’re close, then?” he muses.
I don’t always know how to answer that question.
I love my mom, and she loves me, but I’m not sure anyone except Margie and Ruth has ever been close to her.
We’re still firmly locked into our role as mother and daughter.
I haven’t yet crossed over the threshold of friend.
Still, that’s a lot to say to this man who’s practically a stranger, so I just say, “Yeah. We are. What about you? Did you grow up here?”
“Born and raised.” His smile is proud. “My dad was a teacher too. A real teacher, he’d say.” The smile falters. “But gym’s always been just fine for me. And I fill in where I can. I taught at Carlisle for years—enemy territory, I know.” He laughs to himself. “But it was nice to finally come home.”
We reach the teachers’ lounge, and he twists his key in the lock, pushing the door open with such playful gusto it makes me laugh.
He has father energy, the kind of person I wish my dad could’ve been. I’ll bet he spoils whatever grandchildren he might have positively rotten. It fills me with a sort of nostalgia I don’t quite understand and haven’t earned, for memories that were never mine.
People say I was lucky to lose my dad young, so I don’t remember enough to truly miss him. But that never really felt fair to me. I miss what could’ve been.
The teachers’ lounge is small, with two little, round tables—each surrounded by four chairs—and a green sofa against the wall.
There’s a coffee bar with an old coffee maker and several cups of stirrers and sugar packets that need to be refilled.
A refrigerator stands on one side of the room and a TV hangs on the other.
“Is it everything you hoped it would be?” George jokes.
I smile in spite of myself. “When I was a kid, I’m not sure what we thought. There were all sorts of rumors about what might be happening in here. It’s very…normal, sadly. It always felt so mysterious.”
His eyes travel the space, bouncing over every surface. “Life is rarely as good as what’s in your head, is it? But it’s still good. We’re lucky to have what we have.” He bumps my arm with his. “Lucky to have the fabulous Ms. Sullivan joining us.”
I’m overwhelmed in a good way as my cheeks heat, grateful to have had such a perfect first week. “I have a Nespresso,” I tell him. “I brought it with me, but I rarely drink coffee anyway. It was a gift from an ex. Maybe I could bring it here. Do you think it’d get used?”
He chuckles, leaning back and holding the door open. “Yeah. I think we might be able to find some use for it. But we’re going to have to work on that whole not-drinking-coffee thing. I’m afraid it’s a district-wide requirement.”
I pass through the doorway, shaking my head playfully at my new friend. “Well, I do want to keep my job.”
“We’ll get you into shape in no time. But first, let’s both get home, hmm?”
We walk slowly back toward my classroom so I can gather my things. “Rumor has it we’ll blink, and it’ll be Monday again.”
He nods with a look that tells me I’m right. “Would you look at that? Some rumors are true after all.”