Chapter Twenty-One

Susan woke up before her alarm went off. Thoughts of all the classroom preparations she’d made for today’s start of school, coupled with a bad case of nerves, had kept her up half the night. So she was up and dressed with time to spare.

“Megan!” She called down the hall. “Are you ready for breakfast yet? We have to leave here on time!”

Megan called back in a whiny voice, “I don’t know what to wear!”

Susan walked into her youngest daughter’s bedroom and surveyed the scene. Clothing was strewn all over her bed, yet there stood Megan, still in her pajamas. “What do you mean you don’t know what to wear? You have a closet full of clothes and lots of new outfits Sharlene just bought you.”

“I’m so used to just putting on my school uniform and not thinking about it,” Megan said, pouting.

Susan put her hands on her hips. “Well, as much as you complained about those uniforms I’d think you’d be happy to wear something else.”

“But what do kids in public school wear? Jeans, skirts, shorts, pants, what? I wanna fit in, but I don’t know how!”

Susan understood Megan’s frustration, because she was just as nervous as her daughter. “Well, Megan, you saw lots of students there when you went to get your schedule and books, and they mostly dress like you do when you’re going to the mall.” Susan pawed through the pile of clothes on Megan’s bed. “Here, wear these new jeans and this solid white t-shirt, and some comfortable flats because it’s a big school and you’ll be doing lots of walking.” Susan glanced over at her daughter, but Megan didn’t look convinced.

Megan threw herself down on the bed, landing on top of the clothes. “What if all the other girls are wearing skirts?”

Susan sighed. “Then you’ll wear a skirt tomorrow. But I really don’t think these kids are going to be as judgmental as Willowby kids.” She reached down and patted Megan’s knee. “I know you’re anxious about the first day in a new school, but we’ve got to get going. I can’t be late.”

Megan looked dubious but picked up the jeans her mother had suggested and held them up in front of her while checking the mirror. Susan quietly closed the bedroom door and said a silent prayer to the wardrobe gods. She went back to the kitchen to try to quiet her nerves but accomplished just the opposite by gulping down a cup of black coffee. Megan appeared a few moments later, dressed in a jeans skirt, a pink camisole underneath a white button-down shirt, and high-heeled sandals.

Susan, in her best noncommittal parent voice said, “You look nice.”

Megan shrugged, poured herself a bowl of cereal, and sat down to eat.

“Do you have your book bag all ready to go?” Susan asked. “School supplies, schedule, lunch money?”

“Yes, Mom,” Megan said as she rolled her eyes. “I know how to do that much at least.”

Oddly enough, that classic Megan eye-roll was reassuring. “Okay, then I guess we’re ready for our first day.” At least she hoped so.

****

The first bell rang, signaling the start of the day, and a small number of students shuffled into Susan’s classroom, shy and giggling. Her name, Ms. Benedict, was written on the whiteboard, along with the day’s date and, in bold block letters, “Welcome to Freshman English.” She looked around the room at the diversity of her students and smiled, both at them and to herself. There were African Americans, Asians, Hispanics, whites, and one Native American child, all with eager eyes trained on her.

It’s showtime. “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen.”

The first class of the day went smoothly, the next class was Susan’s planning period, and then the third class arrived, a talkative group of very bright students. Some of them seemed to know each other already, probably from middle school Susan assumed, but as she listened to their conversations, she learned several students had come straight from a private K-8 Catholic school. They seemed as intimidated as Megan about entering a big public high school for the first time.

Susan walked to the front of the classroom to begin her lesson. Just as she had them quieted down, a voice on the PA said, “Good morning, Rosslyn Wranglers, and welcome to a new school year!” Susan sighed and hoped the announcements wouldn’t go on too long, so she could get her lesson started. Unfortunately, they did and she didn’t.

Before Susan knew it, the morning was gone, lunch was over and the class right after lunch was a test of her patience. She had thirty-five chairs in her room, and so far forty-two students had shown up. And they were still coming! Clearly there was some sort of clerical error here, but she didn’t have time to stop and call the main office because the students were very loud, rowdy, and jockeying for seats like a game of musical chairs.

She tried speaking over the din. “Students, can we please quiet down and be patient till the office straightens out the scheduling problems?”

“Miss, uh, Teacher, can you sign my schedule change?” A very tall and thin young man thrust a form under her nose. “I’m supposed to be in athletic conditioning this period. Basketball.”

Five more children came into the room, laughing and waving their schedules. The noise level rose as they all greeted one another after the long summer break, shouting and jockeying for an empty space.

“Mrs. Benedict!” shouted one kid in the back of the room. “There ain’t no more chairs!”

She took a calming breath before speaking. “Yes, I’m aware that we have a problem, but it can’t be taken care of until tomorrow. In the meantime, please try to find a seat somewhere and get quiet.”

“Miss Benedict,” said a very large young man with a booming voice, “can we sit in the windowsill?”

Susan was ready to tear her hair out, because three more students just arrived, bringing the total to fifty. “Yes, I suppose. If you don’t have a seat, find someplace to sit. Not on top of the desks!” Susan noticed several girls sitting two to a desk and said, at the top of her voice, “Only one person to a seat, please!” Fixing this fiasco was at the top of her to-do list the minute the final bell rang today.

“Ms. Benedict?” A timid girl with thick glasses near the front of the room raised her hand. “Do we have any homework?”

Susan smiled at her and announced, again very loudly, “Your homework assignment is on the board.” Somehow she doubted the work would get done.

“It’s got to get better,” she muttered to herself as the final dismissal bell rang. She slumped into her desk chair in exhaustion, kicked off her shoes, and rested her head on the wall behind her chair.

Susan realized she hadn’t seen Megan all day except for a quick glimpse in the hallway before lunch. She wondered how her daughter had gotten along in this huge school. Susan forced herself up from the chair and began straightening desks, picking up trash, and stacking books.

“Hi, Mom!” Megan said as she bounced into the room.

Susan saw that Megan was smiling and hoped that was a good sign. “How did it go today?”

“Great! I like most of my classes except for math, because I hate math anyway, and my teachers seem nice and I really really like my art teacher! I have two whole hours in art class because you put me in the advanced art program—thanks by the way—and we’re going to do all kinds of stuff in there this year. And the teacher says there are competitions we can enter and everything. And next year I can take drafting because I want to be an architect, and in history we’re going to study Roman architecture and I already made some new friends. Emma and Ashleigh want me to go with them right now to Peterson’s, and we’re meeting some more kids I don’t know, but Emma says they’re cool. So can I go?”

Susan felt a huge sense of relief. Despite Megan’s misgivings, and her own, things had apparently gone well. Susan tried her best to sound like this was exactly what she’d expected. “Sure, that’s fine. I have work left here to do, so I’ll pick you up there in an hour.”

“Thanks, Mom! Oh, yeah, can I have five dollars?”

Susan unlocked her closet and took out her handbag. Megan grabbed the money and fairly danced out the door.

There was only one thing left to do. She pulled out her cell phone and pushed a speed-dial button. “Hey Patrick, it’s Susan. I survived Day One—barely. Call me when you get this message.” She smiled as she hung up the phone.

****

“Caroline!” Lucy giggled, standing in the office doorway, “guess what?”

Caroline looked up from her laptop and saw Lucy displaying a single yellow rose in a tiny bud vase like it was a trophy.

“Oh, my God, this is getting ridiculous!” Caroline got up and walked around the desk, digging for a card. “When I called the florist last time they said the customer paid cash and it couldn’t be traced.” She unpinned the card from the blue ribbon around the vase and opened it.

“Well?”

Caroline’s eyes got wide and she sucked in her breath. “It says, ‘Meet your secret admirer tonight at eight p.m. sharp at La Bella Italy. And bring this rose with you.’” She looked up from the card. “Isn’t that a pretty expensive restaurant?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” Lucy exclaimed. “It just happens to be the most romantic place in all of Indianapolis! They have a high volume of marriage proposals.”

Caroline blanched. “But if I go, this would be a first date. A blind date, and I’m certainly not planning on getting married. So why there?”

“If you go?” Lucy lifted an eyebrow. “Girlfriend, you’re going. Wear your prettiest dress and let your hair down out of that infernal ponytail, because it’s time to meet Mr. Right!”

****

Caroline smoothed her lime-green sundress, ran her fingers through her strawberry blonde hair hanging loose about her shoulders, gathered her courage and walked into La Bella Italy near Monument Circle in downtown Indianapolis. As instructed, she carried the yellow rose her secret admirer had sent, grasping it by the plastic holder. She looked nervously around the room, expecting to see Jared sitting somewhere nearby.

“May I help you, Miss?” the host asked.

“I’m meeting someone, but I don’t see him yet. I’ll just wait here till he arrives.” She sat down in a chair near the front entrance host stand, alongside other guests waiting to be seated, while the butterflies in her stomach did somersaults. The door opened a few agonizing moments later.

“Richard!” Caroline said. “What are you doing here?” Instinctively she craned her neck to see if Misty was coming.

Richard looked just as surprised to see Caroline. “I got a message from my grandmother to meet her here at eight sharp.”

Caroline breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, you’re meeting Adele.”

“What are you doing here?” Richard asked. “You look really nice. Not that you don’t always…” He stopped and blushed.

“I have a date,” she said, blushing as well.

Richard frowned. “With the guy who’s been sending you flowers?” He was silent a moment as he stared out the window that looked out on the historic Civil War monument. “Funny, yellow roses were my mother’s favorite.”

Caroline felt awkward about that coincidence. “Oh, well…”

Richard sat down in the chair next to hers and they didn’t talk, just waited and watched as other couples were seated and busy waiters carried plates of steaming food to their tables. Caroline felt her stomach start to grumble. Finally Richard pulled out his cell phone to check the time. “I guess Grandmother’s running late.”

To break the awkward silence, Caroline asked, “Where’s Misty tonight?” Not that she cared, but for the sake of their future working relationship, she thought she should be polite.

“Truthfully, I don’t know, but Grandmother said come alone. You know how she is, always speaking her mind about…” Richard’s voice trailed off.

“So you think this is about your wedding?” Caroline asked.

Richard didn’t answer that question. “So where did you say you got the rose?”

Caroline felt her face turn crimson with embarrassment. “A ‘secret admirer,’ and we were supposed to meet at eight o’clock sharp.” She anxiously searched the restaurant one more time. “I think I’ve been stood up.”

“Mr. Meadows,” the host said, standing before the two of them, menus in hand, “your table is ready.”

Caroline turned to the door, expecting to see Adele Meadows coming through it, but Adele wasn’t here and neither was Jared. Her shoulders slumped.

Richard frowned, but then he suddenly slapped his forehead and burst out laughing. “Uh, Caroline, I think we’ve been had. Grandmother set us up.”

Caroline’s jaw dropped. “What? No!”

“Well, think about it. Both of us told to be here at eight o’clock, and you holding a rose that meant so much to my mom. It has to be Grandmother.”

It was either an odd coincidence, or Richard was right. “Why would she do that?”

Richard stopped laughing. “She’s an incurable romantic.”

At that, Caroline stood up, clutched her handbag to her chest while she shifted the rose to her other hand, and said, “Well, then, I’d better be going.”

Richard stood as well, but instead of holding the door for her he said, “Say, as long as we’re here, and both hungry, and you look so pretty, and Grandmother’s arranged a table, why not have that dinner?”

Was that a good idea? Caroline wasn’t sure, but she was hungry, and Adele had gone to a lot of trouble. “Um, well, I suppose…”

Richard allowed Caroline to precede him as they followed the host. They were shown to a secluded candlelit table in the back of the room, a bottle of merlot already opened and ready to pour. “Compliments of Mrs. Adele Meadows,” the host said. “I’m to tell you to order whatever you wish and that the tab will be covered.”

Caroline realized that Adele had thought of everything, overlooking the fact that Richard was engaged to another woman. She was filled with conflicting emotions—disappointed to find out she had no secret admirer, but thrilled that she got to spend some alone time with Richard.

Richard held Caroline’s chair for her and said, “Grandmother certainly knows how to set the mood. Wine?”

He nodded for the waiter to pour them each a glass, and Caroline was soon laughing and talking, almost like it was a real date. Except it wasn’t a real date because it was with her very-soon-to-be-married boss, and she couldn’t let herself forget that.

After the meal, she and Richard walked outside into the balmy air. Richard took her hand and squeezed it. “Do you have to go straight home, or could we walk around a little?”

Caroline quietly withdrew her hand. “I’d like that. I need to walk off some of that dinner.”

The two of them strolled leisurely through downtown Indianapolis for the next hour. They walked around the Circle, stopping to read the inscription on the memorial and study the statue at the top. A horse-drawn carriage ambled by, transporting a young couple obviously in love. She and Richard went over to the Canal Walk and joined the many people walking, jogging, or roller-skating along the river, all enjoying the summer evening. They made a loop back and ended up near the Capitol Building and headed to the mall parking garage.

“I can find my car from here, Richard.”

Richard shook his head. “No, a gentleman always sees a lady safely home, or in this case to her parked car.” He reached for her hand before Caroline realized what was happening, held it for a moment, and then just as quickly dropped it. “Sorry. I just got caught up in the moment.” He blushed and Caroline looked away. “Isn’t that your car over there?”

“That’s it.” Caroline turned to face Richard. “Thanks for a lovely evening, even if your grandmother did play a prank on us.”

“It was great.” Richard opened the door on the driver’s side for her, and then leaned in as if to kiss her goodnight.

Caroline pulled back in surprise. “Richard!”

He jerked himself backward. “Oh, my God, I’m such an idiot.” They both stood by her car door staring at each other in embarrassment, and finally Richard broke the silence. “Good night, Caroline. I’ll see you at the office tomorrow.”

Caroline backed her car out of the parking space, waved at Richard, and drove off down the ramp as tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. She looked in her rearview mirror and saw Richard still staring after her. She put a CD into the player and turned up the volume, hoping to drown out her thoughts.

“I’ve got you under my skin,” crooned the vocalist.

****

“Well? How’d it go last night?” Lucy demanded as Caroline walked through the front door of Meadows Advertising. Caroline was juggling her travel coffee mug from home in one hand and her over-stuffed handbag in the other, hoping to get to her office without spilling the coffee or having to discuss the date.

“I’m running late, Lucy,” Caroline fibbed as she hurried past her, head ducked as she all but ran to her office. She carefully set her coffee and bag down on her desk, opened the window blinds to let in some much-needed sunlight, and started to close the door.

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Lucy pushed the door aside and strode into the office, her hands on what would have been her hips if she weren’t so pregnant. “Now spill!”

Caroline slumped down in her desk chair. “It was…” She looked around to see if anyone else—like Richard—was listening, and then put her fingers to her lips, shaking her head.

Lucy grabbed Caroline by the arm and dragged her through the reception area and down the hall to the women’s restroom shared by all the first floor offices. Once inside Lucy finally let loose of her arm. “Okay, now spill!”

Caroline rubbed her arm. “Why did you do that?”

“Come on, Caroline. I’m dying to know what happened.”

Caroline sighed and said, “It was a setup.”

Lucy’s head bobbed up and down. “Uh-huh. So tell me about the guy!”

Caroline folded her arms and tapped her foot. “There is no guy. It was Richard, and his grandmother thought she was playing matchmaker.”

“Oh.” Lucy looked deflated. “That sucks.”

“Lucy, this is ridiculous! We’re not in high school. Why are we whispering in a public restroom?”

“If you didn’t care who overheard, we could have talked in your office.”

Caroline stamped her foot, not so much in petulance but to keep her emotions in check. “I don’t know what to do. It was a wonderful evening, but it didn’t change anything.”

Lucy cocked her head to one side. “Are you sure?”

Caroline threw her hands up in the air and walked out the door.