Chapter 13
Cienna
Three months later
Thud. Clank. Thud. Clank. Thud. Clank.
“Ta-da!” I sang my success, having placed the last staple in my kindergarten mantra bulletin board. “Everything is Figureoutable.” The same saying that was painted across the wall of my grandmother’s office right under the Aisling School motto, "Learn by HEART."
I’d spent more hours—weeks, to be honest—than normal working tirelessly to make my classroom an inspiring blank canvas for learning.
Contrary to the speculation from my friends, I wasn’t there to keep my mind off the events that began my summer.
I wasn’t evading memories of whispered words in my ear, hands gripped around my waist, or warm breath against my lips.
I spent my summer dedicated to my classroom because the air conditioning was free, and we’d had record heat waves in the valley… that, and I was a devoted educator.
A delicious burst of flavor hit my tongue as I sipped my coffee while admiring my classroom, nearly ready for the first day of school next week. My phone bing-bonged on my desk, and my boss’s name popped up.
Karen: Happy Work Week! Come check in when you get a chance.
Anyone who knew me knew I could not handle communication that teetered in the cryptic zone, so I grabbed my notebook, coffee, and phone, then raced down the hallway and knocked on her office door.
Karen spun around from her computer to face me. “Hey, chickadee.” Her posture was all business, but her eyes were warm and welcoming. “I don’t have too much time, but I wanted to catch you today to check in.” She pushed her chair closer and gestured for me to sit.
The chair screeched against the floor as I pulled it out, causing me to flinch. My back was ramrod straight, and my hands rubbed up and down my legs. The vibe in the room that normally brought me comfort and nostalgia was… off.
“It’s been such a whirlwind these last few days.” She flopped her head forward. “Whew.” She set a folder in front of her and rested her arms on her desk before sitting up to face me. “How was your summer?”
“It was good.” I shrugged. “Pretty uneventful, which, as you know, is fine by me.”
Her lips pulled up slightly. “Yes, I heard you were here a lot.”
She wasn’t wrong. I attempted an innocent smile, but my lips twisted into a grimace. The wall clock that had been here since I was a child ticked, exacerbating my silence.
“Like, daily.” Her eyes narrowed. “All day.”
A heavy sigh worked its way through me. Not that I cared about being called out. Having a strong commitment to my work was nothing to be ashamed of. “You know me, my classroom is my happy place, and I wanted to put as much love into it as I could before the school year started.”
Karen leaned forward again, staring at me with a smile I couldn’t quite read. “I love that about you…”
“Hmm?” I fidgeted under her gaze.
“The way your face lights up when you talk about your classroom.” She rested her elbows on the table and braced her chin in her hands. Is she swooning? “It reminds me of your grandmother.”
My fidgeting hands stilled and clenched into fists in my lap. Every mention of my grandmother stacked an impossible weight on my shoulders and in my chest to where I couldn’t move. My face tingled, as if raindrops were picking up pace behind my skin. A storm brewing, building pressure.
I wrung my hands and curled my toes to the point of pain as I sat up taller, engaging as many muscles in my body as I could to pull the tension from my face, from my mind.
From the outside looking in, it probably looked like I was taking the compliment in high regard, pulling myself up to meet the honor.
But inside, I was simply trying to keep the storm at bay—the grief that so easily and unexpectedly flooded my body.
The mention of my grandmother hit a little harder, sitting here.
This was her office, and that was her chair for over twenty-five years.
Sometimes I swore I could still smell the hints of rose from her perfume.
A small desk used to sit in the corner, just for me, and when I was in preschool, she’d stock it with paint cups, Play-Doh, and markers.
My eyes shot to the cup holder next to Karen’s computer.
It was full of ballpoint pens, but when this was my grandmother’s office, that cup was full of highlighters of all colors, and no matter my age or what fun things were at my disposal, I always wanted to color with those highlighters.
And she always let me. She’d drop them on my desk and tell me, “Draw everything that shines bright, like your eyes and your mind. I can’t wait to see what you come up with today. ”
What I knew now, at age twenty-eight, was that she was my brightness—mine was merely a reflection of her shine. She was why I did what I did. To take that hint of shimmer she left with me and keep it gleaming. For children and this school. Her school.
Karen cleared her throat, and I shifted in my chair.
Having been her student, then years later, her mentee, and eventually her good friend, she loved my grandmother immensely and knew my grief and the toll it took on me.
She gave me an understanding nod, then cleared her throat a second time and reached across the desk.
If my hands weren’t hidden in my lap, I was sure she would have given them a reassuring squeeze.
“She was an extraordinary woman and educator, as are you.” She sat back in her seat, gazing my way. “And that is one of the reasons I wanted to touch base with you.”
She turned toward a framed picture of her and her daughter, Naomi.
They were both smiling warmly, and Naomi’s hands were cradling her pregnant belly.
I smiled, remembering how she would occasionally play dollhouse with me or braid my hair.
She was quite a few years older, but she was motherly in her youth nonetheless. “I’ll be a grandmother soon.”
“Oh yes!” I squeezed my hands by my heart and cooed, “Any day now.”
Giddiness flooded the room as Karen beamed, dissipating the sorrow that clung to the walls moments ago.
“Yes, Naomi is ready to pop. And as you may have speculated, I am going to retire after this year.” Her grin took over her face.
“Full-time grandma is next for me, and I’ll be moving closer to be with my granddaughter as much as possible. ”
Nausea and anticipation hit me all at once, and I dropped my hands back into my lap. Curling and uncurling my fists. I had an inkling about what was coming next but feared I’d be crushed by the plan she had for her replacement.
“Since this is my final year, there will be months of dragged-out rigmarole to appoint my successor.” Her sigh of annoyance relaxed me a smidgen.
“The board of trustees takes my suggestions for candidates and opens the position to the public as well.” She huffed.
“I don’t know why I can’t just say ‘tag, you’re it,’ but these damn deep pockets have to have their say in everything. ”
I bunched my lips, trying to hide my amusement at her bluntness. I never knew what this woman would say, especially when discussing the politics of running a private school.
“Anywho, you, my dear, are the one and only candidate I will be presenting to the board, given that you accept my nomination.”
I squealed internally. Wait, was it internally?
I hoped it was. I wanted to crawl over the desk and hug her.
She wouldn’t really care if I did, but I controlled the urge.
More than anything, I wished I could hug my grandmother, but being presented with this prospect, this honor, in this office, was the closest I could ask for.
Settling for a small smile, I remained professional despite the dance party happening in my mind.
“I take that silence as a yes?” She raised her brow.
“I’d be honored.” I pressed my fingers against my smiling lips, trying to contain my excitement.
Karen gave me a shrug. “I was going to leave you no option, but I’m glad you’re making this easier on me.” She sat back in her chair. “Now, I have some plans mapped out for you to put you in the spotlight, give you more face time with the board and such.”
Pulling open my notebook, I clicked my pen, ready to take notes as she continued, “Two board trustees serve on the PTA, and many PTA members have the ears of the others. I’d like you to take on the role of teacher rep for the year.”
Okay, I can do that. Easy peasy.
“Many of them remember your grandmother, and I’m certain they’ll see the same spark in you.”
Tears sprung in my eyes, but I implored them to stay focused with rapid blinks while I continued with my note-taking. If there was anyone I could cry in front of, it was Karen, but this was a moment to remain centered and move forward. “Anything else I can do?”
“You’re doing it all, dear.” She gave me the most sincere smile. “And so, so well. Parent scores. Test scores. Make a strong presence with the PTA. Keep building your rapport with families, and stay out of trouble.” She pointed a playful finger my way and winked.
“Yes, ma’am.” I scrunched my face and pointed back at her. “If you recall, I was Hall Monitor of the Year for two years in a row in fourth and fifth grade.”
“I do. And you would have gotten a third year, but the parents complained about favoritism.”
We shared a little laugh, and she patted the folder in front of her. “One more thing.”
I glanced down at the label but couldn’t make it out. Right as she opened it, a beeping sound came from her phone, and her assistant’s voice chirped from the intercom. “Karen, call for you on line one.”
Karen held a finger up to me. “One moment, Cici.” She pivoted in her chair and answered the phone.
While I couldn’t hear the other end of the conversation, it quickly became apparent what the topic was when she—uncharacteristically—squealed, “It’s time!
” The phone rattled as she slammed it into its cradle and turned her attention back to me, clapping excitedly.
“Baby?”
She nodded emphatically, then froze. Her eyes darted around the room, but her body was a statue.
“Go, go, go,” I urged her with a shoo of my hands, pulling her out of her trance.
Moving around the room, she tossed things into her tote bag, then tidied her desk, shoving her laptop in her bag. She peered back up at me once more with a big exhale, and I went around her desk and hugged her. “This is it, go!”
She hugged me back, and after one last squeeze, she sprang out the door and down the hall, singing, “I’m going to be a grandma!”