Chapter 24
Talking with Lauren was the right thing to do. I feel so much lighter with part of that burden off my shoulders. Our conversation while folding laundry didn’t solve anything yet, but I do enjoy the deep satisfaction of knowing that Jeremy’s going to get what he deserves. Of course, Caleb wouldn’t sit back and let the creep get away with trying to force Lauren into marriage. I’m sure he would be able to pay him back for making me lose my job, but like I told her, I’m not sure if my teaching career will recover unscathed. The lies Jeremy told about me hit hard, and once my reputation is smeared there, many will have a long memory and not forget.
Even if my license isn’t covered with conspiracy or connected to anything negative, I can’t see any school near my previous one hiring me. Word travels far, so I feel like my future is over—the future I had before this summer. I’m still not certain about what will await me in life. It’s a big question mark, but I’m getting a hunch about what I want.
Dalton. A lasting relationship. Building on friendship here with Caleb and Marian. All these glorious outdoor opportunities. My heart is telling me to stay put in this area outside Breckenridge, but it’s too big of a leap to make to claim that decision is already a done deal.
In the meantime, I’ll waffle about it, like I have been. Dalton acting so weird around me doesn’t help, and I borrow a page from my older self: avoiding him and it altogether.
I have a perfect excuse to make myself scarce. Marian needs me to run another errand. Being delegated and reduced to nothing more than a gopher and errand girl should bothered me. I’m a career woman. I can wrangle a classroom of twenty children into order. Hopping around a small town to pick up or drop off items isn’t my goal in life, but today, it suits my mood. Fall isn’t that close, but already, I anticipate the gorgeous colors of leaves changing, then winter with all the snow. Snow! I can’t wait. The Californian in me is excited about this new detail in life. I’ve lived near beaches and never traveled far, so winter weather is a whole new adventure to look forward to.
Today is a perfectly clear blue-sky day. Not a cloud flies up above, and the bold azure atmosphere cuts a sharp contrast to the vibrant greens on the trees, and further in the distance, it’s beautiful against the white of snow-capped mountains. How could running errands ever be bad when this was my backdrop?
I smile, letting my spirits rise a bit with the view as I drive Marian’s older pickup. She’s asked me to collect a few things at an “odds and ends” store. Lauren stopped in the kitchen to explain that it’s like a hobby store and hardware place mashed together, yet not. I’m to look for a set of small paintbrushes that Lauren will use for detail work on a planter that cracked from the storm.
Finding the shop takes me through the small town the Goldfinch is actually in, then through Breckenridge until I’m almost exiting it. I park out front, charmed already by the old-timey awning and hand-painted decorations in the front shop windows. It’s no franchise place, that’s for sure, and I like it. It’s unique.
Inside, I meander through the aisles and see how it really is a mixture of hobby items and more standard hardware goods. The paintbrushes take a good few minutes to locate. I hold my phone up to check the picture of the package Lauren had at the bed-and-breakfast with what is hanging off the rack here. Once I make a match, I grab them and browse through the aisles again. So much to look at. So many things to spot and wonder if I ever would want to make or repair something with the items. When I reach the far-left corner in the back though, nostalgia sweeps in.
I sigh, staring at the wares of what I left behind. Teacher planners. Classroom decorations. Organizing trays. Reward posters. Branching from these corners are more resources for education. One way leads to a line of stationery and office goods like papers and folders, and the other way marks the entrance to the aisle of art supplies like crayons, paints, and such.
I stand there and simply stare, stuck with the visual of what I used to work with every day. I’m rooted in place with the reminder that a week from now, I would’ve been reentering my classroom and organizing it all for a new school year. I’d be using sharpies to label name stickers on desks and filling welcome packet bags. I’d be setting up neat rows of things for children to use to learn. The smell of books and crayons seems like a phantom scent I can’t find, and I almost miss the routine sensation of papercuts on my fingers from handling all the homework sheets, both freshly copied to hand out and the crumpled ones turned in.
I stand there for too long, stuck in this emotional flurry I can’t tamp down. It must be an awkward length of just looking without moving because a short woman approaches. “Can I help you find something?”
I smile at her, recognizing that she’s the smiling employee I’ve spotted behind the counter and in the aisles restocking stuff. Clearly, she works here, and I feel silly now since I already paid for the paintbrushes but wanted to explore more.
“Oh, I was just looking.” I lift my hand at the corner of the shop. “I, well, I used to be a teacher, and this is all…It’s bringing back memories.”
“Used to be?” The woman, whose nametag reads Sherry, giggles and steps closer, more in the light. The silver in her hair is more noticeable here, and she reminds me a bit of Marian as she pushes her slim wire-frame glasses up her nose. “Forgive my bluntness, but I’d say you’re far too young to be retired.”
I sigh and settle on a shrug. She’s friendly enough to share the basic details. “I used to teach in California.”
“Early education?” Sherry sets her hands on her hips as she gives me a slower once-over, like taking inventory of my worth.
I nod. “Second grade. Let me guess,” I say, sensing an innate comradery that can be detected from one survivor of teaching with another. “High school?”
She grins. “I retired last year. Junior high, too.”
“Do you miss it?”
“I don’t miss getting up so early every day! My husband has run this shop all his life, and I’m enjoying spending more time here with him. At my pace.”
“It’s strange how much I miss the pace of school. The hecticness of it all. Then the reward of making it to the end of the day and knowing I’ve helped at least one child grow into their future.”
“Well, why aren’t you teaching anymore?”
“I’m thinking about moving here. My friend recently relocated to the area, and she and her boyfriend are making this area their home.”
She snaps her fingers. “Lauren! You’ve got to be talking about Lauren. Which means you’ve got to be Audrey.”
“Aubrey,” I correct.
Sherry smiles even brighter. “She’s mentioned you when she’s stopped in.”
Mentioned what, though? “That’s me.”
“You’re going to stick around town?”
I nod. “Right now I’m helping Marian at the Goldfinch, but I’m hoping to figure out something long-term.” Somewhere. Since Lauren is my only person, the only one I’ve let into my life, I figure I should base my home near hers.
“How about teaching?” Sherry grabs my hand and squeezes it before releasing it, excited. “The school needs someone for third grade.”
I would love to, but…I stop myself from the instant rejections in my mind. My reputation in California wouldn’t have the same push here. I’d need to use my references, though, and I know they’d talk poorly of me after the crap Jeremy pulled to avoid my contract being renewed.
“Marian will vouch for you. If she trusts you, I know the folks at the school would trust you. I’m still partly involved. I might even be on the interview panel.”
I giggle. “You hardly know me.”
She scoffs. “Any teacher who lights up when talking about helping a student ‘grow into their future’ is one of the good ones. Trust me. I’ve seen plenty of teachers in and out of the system in all my forty years of teaching.”
“Forty? Wow!”
“Started right outta college.”
Me too. And I never counted on being done this early.
“Is there any reason you can’t teach?” She slants her brows. “I know you’ve gotta be a good one. Marian simply doesn’t let anyone into her circle.”
“Well, my license is in California.”
Sherry waves her hand. “I’m sure you’d pass the requirements for the transfer period and get an interim authorization until you meet Colorado’s requirements. Mr. Sarnow, in the art department, did that a few years ago when he moved here from Florida.”
That clears one hurdle. I’ve been so stuck with the assumption my teaching career was over that I forgot about the state-to-state licensing options.
“School’s starting soon. We can wait ’til after Labor Day.”
Oh, thank goodness.
“But I mean it, Aud,— No, you said Aubrey.” She laughs.
“Hey, you’re good.” I laugh too. “Remembering names on the spot like that.”
She nudges my side with her elbow. “And Aubrey—and Audrey—aren’t on my ‘bad list.’”
I giggle more, loving the chance to joke with a fellow educator. We’re a crazy bunch.
“Truly, you should consider it.” She pulls her phone out of her pocket and unlocks the screen. “Here, take a picture of my contact info. If you think about it, and you’re interested, give me a holler, and I’ll get you connected with the school. Believe me, they really need someone on a short notice.” She holds her phone up and frowns. “The previous teacher had to move to Las Vegas. Ms. Henning’s sister passed away a week ago, and she’s helping her niece with it all. So sad.”
I pull my phone out of my pocket and take a picture of Sherry’s information. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Oh, she was shattered about it. But I know she’d be thrilled to know a good person like you would be taking her spot. She’ll want to know the students are in good hands.”
After a little more chitchat, I leave the shop. Meeting Sherry feels like fate, and I can’t help but walk back to Marian’s truck with more pep in my step. Third grade is similar to what I handled in second grade. If Sherry was asking me about my interest in fourth, it wouldn’t have helped. I’d need to get more certification. Third grade is right up my alley, and as I get into the truck to drive home, I mentally consider my background and résumé. My degrees fit, as do my excellent grades. I’m sure the Breckenridge’s school board would be pleased with my undergrad research, the volunteer efforts, and the extra-curricular programs I either helped with or organized at my previous school. The only thing I dread is having to put my former bosses down as references. If they are contacted, they’ll share the details of what they think of me, opinions all skewed by Jeremy’s word.
But maybe Lauren will have Caleb help with that. Libel. Slander. All of it. Maybe if Caleb directs his lawyers to look into it all, this local school board won’t hear that crap about me.
If the record is set straight, I see no reason why I couldn’t work here. I’d simply have to plan for the exams to eventually authorize me to teach in this state.
I drive home excited. It’s a cautious feeling though, because so much is on the line. It seems like a spontaneous solution, one I’ve needed. I can’t see myself going back to California. The more I am here, I realize the change of scenery is good for me. Instead of sticking with where I grew into adulthood—on my own without my parents—I’m going through a rebirth here. I’m growing into my future, like I told Sherry. Lauren is my anchor, and I’m eager to stay near her, and if I could teach, that environment would complete a sense of belonging and home for me.
But what about Dalton? Staying here to teach wouldn’t guarantee keeping him in my life. Colorado is closer to New York than California is, but it’s still far.
As I drive back to the Goldfinch, I’m vibrating with the energy to tell him about my chat with Sherry. I saw how mad he was when I first told him about how Jeremy prevented me from teaching. I know Dalton cares. Not only was he concerned, I knew from the beginning that I wasn’t fooling him. He’d sensed that I was lying, and he asked me about it upfront on our hike near the resort. He’ll be so thrilled to hear this news because even though he says he only wants a hookup, “for fun,” I can’t ignore the feeling that he really does care. That he would be happy to hear about something good coming my way.
I arrive at the bed-and-breakfast and park with one goal: to find Dalton and tell him the potentially big news. He’s the one I want to tell first, not Lauren, not Marian. I want to show him my huge smile and share this hope that’s making me light up inside out. Maybe it’ll be a good way to talk about us, and figure out what his opinions are about any future, long distance or not.
“Are you looking for Dalton?” Marian asks after I’ve walked through the Goldfinch for the second time and am about to search outside.
“Yeah. Do you know where he is?”
She nods and hoists a basket of laundry higher on her hip. “He just left for a fishing trip with Caleb.”
“To the water pools near the property?”
She shakes her head. “Nope. They’ll be gone for three days.”
Shoot. So much for my plans to tell him the good news as soon as possible.