Chapter Thirteen
Julia didn’t touch the mailbox the next morning, or the morning after that. Just to be sure it had left her sight entirely, she pretended that little chilled box didn’t exist–magazines, newsletters, and bills piling within. That’s why businesses have grace periods.
Even though she signed those papers and took down all the photos, she couldn’t bring herself to see Erin. For days that stretched into weeks, she avoided her at work like the plague. When she saw her coming down a hall or heard her voice echo from a classroom, she swiftly turned and disappeared down another.
She didn’t know how to apologize to her for her rude dismissal. She didn’t know what to say to her when her gaze lingered too long. She didn’t know how to be firm with her, keep the distance they painstakingly built, while wanting to fall back into her touch. And so, Keegan played defense and allowed her the time to catch up on the meetings and appointments. Julia was conveniently indisposed to anyone who asked.
It was the last day of the week and Julia spent the entire day in a conference room with Keegan, Jonathan, and the rest of the English Department. They scoured over schedules and bus routes to organize the school-wide Broadway show just days away. Tickets were purchased; students were ready. The only thing that wasn’t was the chaperone and student distribution. You know, just a little piece of the puzzle.
It would be the largest school sponsored field trip Kleinton students took in years. Julia couldn’t wait, but at the same time every possible scenario of what could go wrong flickered through the mind on a creaking 1940s film reel.
The Phantom of the Opera was the production chosen by the teachers. It began on Broadway in the 1980s, and this was the last year to experience its brilliance on the big stage. When she first saw The Phantom of the Opera on screen in grade school, she knew she was judged by her cover her entire life up to that point. She realized that, just like her favorite theme in the musical, she was never given the benefit of the doubt. It was one of the best moments of her life–to recognize that she wasn’t as alone as she thought, and getting to relive that gave her something to truly look forward to.
They were finalizing the last group of students for each chaperone when they came up two short. They sat around the list of student names, the volunteers and teachers who were assigned to each. There was a group of 16 students who would have one parent volunteer and no school official.
“We could just disperse those students throughout the other groups,” Keegan suggested again.
“But we’re already pushing numbers as it is,” Jonathan explained, his voice a little irritated. “We’re over two to five students in most groups compared to our last trip, which was half as complicated.”
“What if we put another all-call out to parents and see if we can manage a few more volunteers?” another teacher suggested.
“We tried that yesterday and haven’t received one taker,” Keegan sighed.
Just then, there was a knock at the door. Erin opened it slowly and stepped in with a pile of her department folders in her hands. What was it that flickered on her face? Surprise? It could’ve been relief, but the narrowing of her eyes looked almost like an apologetic pain.
Her hair was down again, beachy waves highlighting the gold in her strands. It was a dress-down day due to half-day teacher conferences, but she still wore a tucked-in, blue pin-striped blouse. Of course, she had on her signature heels, the height always bringing her eye level with Julia.
“I heard you needed another hand at the show?” Erin asked, her voice faltering at the last word as she locked eyes with Julia.
Julia opened her mouth to respond, to try to get out at least one syllable when she’d been mute for weeks, but Jonathan jumped in first.
“Absolutely!” he said with that award-winning smile. Keegan leaned over the table with him to review the current list of chaperones as she adjusted groups.
“If we move Julia here,” she said, pushing Julia and Erin’s names together, “we’ll have one school official in each group.”
Julia gave a momentary scowl towards Keegan.
“That sounds like a great plan.” Julia smiled sincerely, holding back the stab for Keegan later. She didn’t expect the rush of relief she felt after hearing Erin’s voice after so long without it. “Thank you, Erin.”
“Mrs. Jenner, I actually was just popping in to ask for a moment of your time for some paperwork,” Erin explained cautiously.
Julia nodded, reminded Jonathan of what still had to be done, then picked up her things and followed Erin to the office they once shared.
“Thank you,” Julia said as Erin opened the door.
“I know you’re busy, Mrs. Jenner.” Erin didn’t take a seat, her body straight as a board in the doorway. The formality of her stance spread out like octopus’ arms within the room, sucking the oxygen out. “I’ll be brief and then get out of your hair. I just need a quic–”
“Erin,” Julia’s voice was a plea, “please have a seat.” Julia motioned towards the chair next to her desk. “I’m happy to help with anything you need.”
Erin walked over and began pulling out her papers without looking up. Julia needed to get everything back on track. She needed to squash what bloomed in her chest before it could take any more root than it already had. But… But? But there was something about being in the same room with her, something about her presence that sent a wave of heat through her entire body–a feeling of calm, a feeling of everything crashing into her at once.
Erin’s voice still hummed in her ears. It was like being wrapped in satin from the inside out. If only life could be as easy as it was to forget everything when looking at her. If only life could be like that.
“I just need a signature on these department evaluations I’ve started.” She placed four highlighted documents before Julia, a large yellow X identifying where she had to sign.
“Would you like me to read them now and sign, or would you prefer I get them back to you later?” She lifted the papers to review them, trying to avoid looking Erin in the eyes.
“Later is fine,” Erin quickly answered, too quickly, as if she was counting down the seconds that she had to endure sharing the same air with her. “I know you probably want to look at them alone.”
Erin didn’t add anything else to her statement, but Julia should have. She should have told her she would sit there and look at those papers all day, rereading each line three times just to extend the seconds, if it meant she never left that chair. But it’s too messy. It became all too messy.
“Great,” Julia said, setting them back down slowly. “I will be happy to return these to you by the end of the day.”
“Take your time,” she said without expression, her voice a wooden plank.
The sun invigorated the room, covering Erin’s complexion in a luminous sheen. Julia smiled at her. It was so hard not to smile around her, to not smile at her, to not beg for that flash of teeth back. They both sat looking at each other, completely tantalized even though Erin’s lips didn’t curve upwards.
“I’m sorry if I stepped on toes by volunteering for the field trip.” Erin looked down at her papers, pretending to neatly align them. “I didn’t know they were going to pair us up.”
“You didn’t at all,” Julia jumped in before Erin even finished speaking. “We could use the help, and that was a very kind offer when you could use the time to catch up on all this paperwork.”
Julia smiled at her, but Erin still didn’t smile back. It wasn’t the smile, the one that fluttered into her mind when she was lost in thought.
“I know you’ve been avoiding me,” she confessed. “After day two of seeing you turn around after seeing me in the hallway, I got the idea. I’m happy to rescind my offer, if that’s what you want. You could have just talked to me.”
Julia’s stomach sank. She had no idea. Hearing it said back to her made her feel childish, and she was. Why couldn’t she just tell her? Why couldn’t she just explain that this was how it had to be and pretending it could be anything else was just torture to her already spent body?
“Ms. Jenner,” a knock sounded from behind the door as it opened to the assistant principal, “we’ll be heading into our budget meeting in a moment, if you want to join.”
“Thank you, Mr. Waylon. I’ll be just a few minutes late.”
Julia nodded towards him and then gave her full attention back to Erin when the door latch clicked close in the distance. Erin’s expression changed for a brief moment but Julia couldn’t place it.
Her next words should’ve been that she had it all wrong. Her next words should’ve been an apology for her immature behavior. Her next words should’ve been anything other than the diplomatic crap she actually said.
“I think you would really enjoy getting to know more of the students,” Julia spoke softly. Her stomach descended just a little lower at her cowardice. “The play is truly spectacular, too.”
“Okay,” Erin gave a half-smile, a plastic mask on her face, “then it’s settled.” She stood and began walking to the door. Erin stopped, her back a solid wall against her vision. “Julia?”
Her voice didn’t sound like satin or velvet; it was a subtle, melancholic tremor that finally shook loose after thousands of years of settling. It sounded like the sigh of a child who just dropped their ice cream, the anticipation of that creamy goodness evaporating as it melts on hot pavement. Some glint of hope fluttering off in the breeze.
“Yes, Erin?” Julia still had her eyes on her, now more concerned than ever.
Something was different. The air was so quiet. Their breathing sounded like footsteps on a hollow floor. Erin had her hand on the doorknob, but she didn’t turn it just yet.
She waited just three breath-spans long and then sighed, “never mind.”
She was gone just as fast as she murmured that last word. Julia didn’t know what to think. When the door swung closed, small particles of dust kicked up and floated to the dirty yellow tile, only put in sight from the single ray of sunshine reflecting through the window.
It didn’t sit right. The way Erin held herself, second guessing her words while playing with her hands in her lap. It wasn’t her. The way her voice shook in the most unnoticeable way to anyone but Julia. Something was wrong and she had to know what it was, if it was her. Had she done the very thing she feared the most?
Julia looked around her office. Filing cabinets full of reports and curriculum lined the walls. Above those hung pictures of her and students throughout the years. Behind her desk, the walls were lined with photos of faculty achievements, moments of her accolades frozen in time. Her precious degrees hung on gold-plated plaques to her left, always in view. Always a reminder.
That office contained everything she held close, everything she fought so hard to get and never lose. None of it ever came easy and she kept those reminders to prove that if she kept pushing, if she never lost sight, it would always get better. It had to get better.
Even with all those accomplishments, a professional life well lived, the room felt empty. She felt empty, as if her bones rattled against her skin without any true form. It was like the sky: something and absolutely nothing all at the same time. Erin didn’t make her feel empty. Talking to her made her skin light on fire; it made her feel alive again, like Marin didn’t take the last piece of her when she left.
Pressing her feet firmly to the ground, she stood from her cluttered desk. She didn’t care how much she had left to do. She didn’t care that she’d be late for that meeting. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered in the grand scheme of things. She let it all matter too much already.
She walked through her door, leaving it wide open. As she passed Keegan’s desk just one door over, she began to stand as if ready to ask a question, but Julia kept walking. If she stopped, if she allowed the trembling nerves in her body to settle within her limbs, every ounce of determination she worked up would disintegrate right before her.
She walked to the office with Erin’s temporary name on the front. It was small, at one point a storage room for boxes of platinum white printer paper stacked twelve high. There was only one window, maybe two-by-two feet, in the center of the back wall.
Julia approached the closed door, the blackout poster still covering the little window from the last lockdown drill. Not being able to see if Erin was inside, to see what she was doing or if she’d be bothering her, kept Julia frozen with her fist rolled into the knocking position.
How long did she stand there as her knees buckled under her weight? How long after holding your limbs in the same position before the lactic acid builds to an unbearable pain? Pausing was her mistake.
Her nerves settled in her toes as her chest flushed red with anxiety. Instead of knocking, she dropped her hand back to her side. She turned back towards her office as she rubbed the bridge of her nose with her exhausted arm. She had a meeting to get to.
***
With the paperwork and last-minute organization for the field trip in full swing, Julia forgoed all plans for the weekend. Instead of getting ready for Sunday girl’s night, it was 8 p.m. on Saturday and she sat on the floor in her living room–her legs crossed beneath her on the fuzzy rug. Her white sweatpants and oversized t-shirt, one she probably should have tossed in the garbage decades ago, hung off her like a sheet. Her blonde hair was thrown in a messy bun that rested on the back of her neck, little spiral wisps framing her face.
Her coffee table was pressed against the wall all afternoon, making room for the folders she organized on the floor for all of the teachers. Her glass of wine sat on a marble coaster where the rug met dark stained wood. ’80’s music played in the background from the stereo, echoing off still bare walls. Julia subtly nodded her head with the beat as she counted how many folders she still had to make. Each needed a copy of their schedule, student attendance, tickets, and emergency contacts.
Her phone buzzed against the floor, rattling the side of the coaster. She picked it up, a bright pink pile of papers still in her hand for distribution. Her insides turned to jelly. Erin.
Erin - 8:12 p.m.
You up?
Julia - 8:12 p.m.
Always.
Erin - 8:12 p.m.
Can I give you a call?
Without even thinking, Julia sat smiling ear to ear as she clicked on Erin’s contact and pressed the dial button. It rang twice before Erin’s unsteady voice came alive from the other side. That might have been a little too fast of a reaction.
“Hi,” Erin hesitated.
“Hi.”
“That was quick.”
“I figured by the time I responded back saying yes, and then you getting that message and having to call me, I could just call you and get it done.”
“I’m sorry to bother you so late–”
“Stop that.” Julia’s voice was a weak attempt at sounding serious as she held in a sigh. It was so hard keeping Erin at such a distance, so hard allowing her to think she was doing something wrong. “Are you okay? I was worried about you earlier.”
“Yeah,” her voice hummed from the other side, but Julia didn’t believe her. “Wait,” Erin paused and Julia could almost picture how she was tilting her head even across the phone, “did you just say you called me first to get this over faster?”
They both laughed. Julia slid back on the rug, inching closer to the couch to lean against it.
“Exactly,” she said, amusement lacing her voice. She was so thankful Erin couldn’t see the way she lit up. At least she could smile at that voice wrapped in the safety of the airways between them.
“Well, at least now I know.” Julia could almost hear a smile in her airy tone. “I was thinking about the trip tomorrow and then I realized the last time I took one, I was in 6th grade and we went to the beach down the road and I was obviously the student and not a chaperone. So, I have no idea what I’m doing!”
“You’ll be with me, so you have nothing to worry about,” replied Julia. “Really all it is is a bunch of counting student heads every five minutes. We make sure we’re arriving on time, and at the right place. That’s about it.”
“That and being responsible for over a dozen teenagers in a dangerous city!”
“If you ignore the catcalls and people trying to sell you pictures next to drag queens, you’ll be fine,” Julia chuckled.
Erin gasped playfully, “You didn’t tell me there would be drag queens.”
“I guess I should have led with that. We probably would have had more volunteers.”
“Or less, depending on how you look at it.” It was so easy to fall into that teasing banter, that all–too-familiarness. “What time are you getting to school Monday morning?”
“The bus leaves at five in the morning, so I will probably be there around four to coordinate with transportation.”
“I’ll try to get there early too. That way you have an extra hand,” she paused unsurely, “only if you want.”
“I’d like that.” Julia smiled into the phone as she looked up and watched the fan spin above her. “I’d like that a lot.”
“Okay, I guess I’ll see you then.”
“See you then.”
“See you then,” Erin repeated.
They sat in silence for a moment, both waiting to see who would hang up first, both mesmerized in the rhythm of their breaths. Erin ended the call and Julia was left smiling into her phone when she did.