Chapter 45 #2
I looked up at him and knew he saw it. His expression was blank as I gave him a weak smile, letting the tears pool in my eyes. Then I hustled inside to the ladies’ room, running away from the life I already missed so much, berating myself for having gotten attached to something I barely had.
With ten minutes left before the doors opened, the chatter outside the entrance grew with squeals and laughs.
I double-checked that our ticket collectors had their system down and that our raffle tickets were ready.
I walked by all of our snack, dessert, and raffle-basket tables to personally thank each volunteer who was helping out for the evening.
Anything to keep busy and moving and not stuck somewhere cornered by Jill. Or Reed.
When the doors opened, people cheered as they walked in, the excitement traveling through the room as the attendees looked around, pointing, oohing and aahing over the magical atmosphere.
Searching for Karen, I walked through crowds of mothers, daughters, aunts, uncles, grandparents, and students, all mingling while making plates of snacks and claiming seats with purses and jackets.
A volunteer swatted away a boy’s wandering finger from the cake.
Two girls tossed Goldfish into each other’s mouths.
The room’s energy stirred in me, colliding with the heaviness I’d felt for days.
It lifted me, even if only a tiny amount.
When I finally found her, Karen was parked at a table in the corner-most part of the room, chatting with Jenn. My little group of chaos-monster besties all sat there too. I flopped down in an empty chair and let out a sigh. Karen gave my shoulder a pat. “Looks great, Cici.”
I mumbled a thanks, so tempted to drop my head on the table. But it would be a little counterintuitive to the professionalism I wanted to portray. Who knew which board members were in attendance tonight. They were all connected to the school in one way or another.
“Oh my god.” Jenn nearly spit out her drink. “This is terrible.”
Panic slapped me from my slump. “What’s wrong with the drink?” I sprang up, watching as she made a gag face.
“This has absolutely no alcohol in it. What the fuck kind of party did you plan?”
Karen nudged her, and I glared. “You are the worst.”
She shook her head, quirking a brow. “No, having to suffer through this shit without a drop of alcohol is the worst.”
“As my administrative assistant, you were not necessarily required to be here, Jennifer.”
Oh, the full name.
Jenn shrugged. “I wanted front-row seats to the obnoxious love saga.” Her eyes darted to the other side of the room, and I knew she was looking at Reed. She waggled her brows at me, earning her another glare.
Darcy glowered from across the table. “Knock it off, Jenn.”
Kennedy scooted one chair over so she was seated at my side, then pulled me into a side hug. “Yeah, read the room, sis. We can’t all be blissful, newly wedded wifeys.”
Jenn gave me an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Ci, just trying to lighten the mood since we don’t have alcohol to do it.”
Returning Jenn’s smile, I snuggled into Kennedy for a brief moment, then sat back up. Professionalism. The whole reason my heart was torn in two.
“We’re here for you, babe,” Kennedy said with one last squeeze before sitting up for a sip of water.
Darcy snickered. “We’re actually here because Karen required all teachers to attend, but also, we’re here for you, Cici. Drinks after?”
I just shrugged.
“All right, you guys. Behave,” Karen instructed as she rose from the table, shooting a look directly at Jenn.
“I have to go start this thing.” She walked to the raised platform and podium we set up for her and adjusted the mic.
“Good evening, Aisling School families and guests. The students here today are honoring special people in their lives, whether it be parents, godparents, aunts, uncles, neighbors…” She let her voice trail as she smiled.
“We welcome you all and hope you’re ready to enjoy an evening of celebration and fun. ”
Claps and excited squeals filled the room. Once subsided, Karen continued, “There were so many people involved in the planning of this event tonight, but I’d like to take a moment to thank our two event leads, Reed Marsh and our very own Ms. Cienna Vilotta.”
Applause sounded around the room, and Karen looked straight to me, causing heads to turn my way.
My smile felt awkward on my face, but I truly was uncomfortable with group acknowledgments.
Anything involving clapping and whooping directed at me.
Cringeworthy. Especially when this was such a group effort.
Karen looked to me expectantly, and then her eyes carried all the way to the complete other side of the room to Reed, giving him the same look. “Come on, you two, don’t be shy.”
Well, shit. So much for avoiding him.
As I strode through the tables to the podium, I tried to keep my smile normal, even though dread consumed my every movement. Pretty sure my eye was twitching, too. Reed moved through his side of the room, and we both reached the short stage and froze on either side of Karen.
She stepped behind us, then slid over, forcing me to scoot over and stand right next to Reed.
I nearly melted from a mixture of relief and anguish at the feeling of his warmth next to me.
The brush of his arm against mine was so grounding—it felt so much like home.
Except it was like driving by a home that you used to live in.
A glimpse of familiarity and cherished memories.
I prayed Karen wouldn’t make me speak. It would for sure be a croak followed by a fresh stream of tears.
“These two are quite a pair together.” Was she trying to end me right here on this stage in front of the entire school?
“The work they did as partners was brilliant. Thank you to you both.” She squeezed my hand, then leaned in front of me to peer at Reed, nodding at him graciously.
He nodded back, and the movement caused him to lean further toward me.
The touch made me shudder and sway, nearly losing my balance, but he gripped my arm briefly, steadying me.
Thankfully, after a round of applause for us, we were excused from the stage, and the DJ started the music.
Reed rested his hand on my back as we stepped down the stairs.
The static between our bodies, in that one spot he touched, pulled sharply.
But the pleasure of it was overshadowed by knowing it would be the last time.
As the lights dimmed and the dance floor lit up, the crowd shuffled and chatted louder. I chanced a glance at Reed, and his eyes met mine before quickly moving downcast. He smiled, and then we headed separate ways. It felt like the true end. Our last success together.
I tried to appear approachable to parents and teachers as I walked to the back wall, but I wanted to crawl into a dark, quiet space and be left to my feelings for a little while.
Slowly, adults and children began dancing to the music, parents taught their children the macarena, everyone laughed and wiggled for the chicken dance, and the whole crowd lit up when the DJ played “Shake It Off,” one of many Taylor Swift songs to come.
The first I spotted Reed, he was shaking his hips, holding hands with a deliriously happy Abigail.
All of his attention was centered on her, and she soaked up the sight of him dancing sillily.
I did too, giggling to myself. What a beautiful, perfect nutcase.
And I longed to be there, right next to him, wiggling and jiggling to the beat.
I wanted so badly to be next to that sweet girl, bumping her hip, making her laugh in that wild way that was so contagious.
The night passed as I tucked away in my corner, keeping to myself, catching candid moments of fun and sweetness. The lights dimmed further, causing the twinkle of stars to shine brighter.
“All right, everyone, it’s time to slow it down for the last dance,” the DJ announced, and the movement on the dance floor turned from fast and bouncy to sways and twirls. The seats nearly emptied as people found their loved ones.
I swallowed down tears as a sparkly purple dress caught my eye, swishing and catching the light. Reed spun Abigail, then caught her hand and lifted her onto his toes to dance.
A hand curled around my arm, and Karen’s head snuggled on my shoulder.
She gave me a squeeze and stood by me. We watched in silence, other than the sniffle I let escape.
She squeezed again and lifted her head. “I’d like to think she’s looking down and watching this wonderful night. I know how proud she must be of you.”
I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to squeeze the emotions in, nice and tight. “I hope she sees how much I love this school.”
“I know she does.” She paused. “And I’m certain she sees how much you love that little girl too.”
Karen’s words hit me like a sack of bricks.
With my eyes squeezed shut, I imagined my grandmother.
Sitting in her favorite chair at home. She rocked me in her lap, her hands wrapped around me so she could knit as she cuddled me.
This memory was so deeply ingrained in me because it was a ritual for us for as long as I could fit in her lap.
But this time, I looked at it from her eyes.
The love she put into each rock of the chair, each kiss on my cheek, each laugh we shared.
“Cienna…” Karen’s hand was still in mine, squeezing as if wringing out my sorrow. “Your grandmother was so much more than a teacher to you.”
“Of course she was.”
Karen’s eyes pierced mine. Even with the dimness of the room, I saw her concern and intent. “You can honor her in more ways than by following her career footsteps.”
“What do you mean?”
Her hand left mine to smooth down the back of my hair, as if she’d have to soothe me through what she was going to say next. “She was a mother to you when you didn’t have one.”
I inhaled deeply, as if that was the only way to take in her words and make them meaningful.
That breath turned to a sob, and I dropped my face into my hands, covering myself, a shield from the complex emotions tearing through me.
She turned and nodded toward where Reed and Abi were dancing, and my heart plummeted, telling me she was right.
I’d been so consumed with honoring my grandmother for what she’d done for the school, that I missed what she did for me.
She loved me. Raised me. She was my mother when mine couldn’t be.
Karen squeezed me once more, then grabbed my shoulders and turned me to face her. “Your love can span outside of the classroom, beyond the school. It already has. But you can’t exemplify your grandmother’s vision without your heart whole. Go get your whole heart.”
I suddenly realized that it didn’t matter if I lost my candidacy for principal. None of it mattered if I lost my heart in the process, the same heart that pounded as I crossed the floor toward Reed and Abi.
Logically, I knew I should slow down, come up with a plan for how best to navigate the complicated and improbable situation, but the truth was, my heart simply couldn’t wait.
The E was for eagerness, and nothing could stop me.
The A was for adaptability, and the board of trustees would have to do just that, live in the school’s vision, and adapt to the idea of a principal who regarded professionalism but chose love.
With shaky legs, I walked onto the dance floor. Reed glanced my way and cocked his head, brows raised with concern. As I drew closer, Abi stepped off Reed’s shoes, dancing on her toes and reaching for me.
“Is there room for a third?” I asked as I stepped into Reed’s side.
My question was answered as I was pulled into his embrace, and his sigh of relief matched mine.
Abi opened her arms big and did her best to hug us both as we swayed to the music.
I leaned my head on Reed’s shoulder, then looked up to him.
Our eyes met, and he didn’t turn his gaze from me.
“I’m sorry,” I mouthed, and his eyes glistened.
He looked around the room, then back down at me, as if to say, “Everyone is watching.” And maybe they were.
But my focus was on him. And then, as he knelt and picked Abigail up and held us both tight, my focus was on us.
We snuggled in close, and Reed whispered in my ear, “Are you sure?” Without a doubt. I tried to convey with my eyes that he could count on me. On this. My R, reliable.
I nodded yes and swiftly kissed him to punctuate it. Abi cooed and pointed her finger at her uncle’s lips. “Kisses mean love,” she sang.
Reed tickled Abigail, making her squirm in his arms, and then he looked at me with so much intensity, I felt my knees quake. “Yeah, they do.”
Abigail leaned her body in and put her face near mine and Reed’s, like she was telling a very important secret. “Mommy said that every kiss means I love you.”
“Yeah, they really, really do,” I said, tucking one of many frizzy stray hairs behind her ear, before staring up into her uncle’s matching bright green eyes.
Reed grazed my lips with his, then turned to Abigail and attacked her with kisses.
I joined in, and we became a blur of wiggles and giggles and smoochy faces.
It wasn’t the most conventional way to confess “I love you” for the first time, but nothing about our little bubble was, and the T in my heart couldn’t be more thankful.