CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Starting All Over Again Is Gonna Be Rough
“When he asked me to spend the weekend at the lake, I went out and found the cutest little swimsuit at Macy’s.”
“I’ll bet you looked terrific in it.”
“But then we wound up water-skiing with a bunch of his friends, and he spent the whole day flirting with some blond bimbo who came along and didn’t even touch the water.”
“Like you weren’t even there. Barb, I keep telling you he’s such a jerk.”
“I hate him.”
Beverly and Barbara motored past Julie when she slipped out of the administration office, their conversation tailing them like a wake on the water. There was freshness in the morning air despite the fact that they would likely have a sweltering start to the new school year. The summer break was short and sweet, though Julie had taken a lot of work home with her to get a head start. None of it got done in the week she spent with Russell in Hawaii. The scenery. The waterfalls and the flowers. The sand and the surf. It was the best vacation she could remember. Granted, Russell spent more time with Superintendent Fox and two other school board members than she would have liked. But once the conference was over, she had him all to herself. He seemed proud to have her on his arm at the social events, sometimes to an embarrassing extent when he introduced her to Fox and the others. He never left her feeling like she didn’t belong. It was a far cry from the distance he had maintained on campus before the trip, and things got even better when they returned home.
It was the first day back on campus for staff. The students would follow in a couple of weeks, and she was going to enjoy the calm before the storm. She strolled across the quad that separated the offices from the library with a cup of Starbucks. Vacation was too short. They had a handful of new teachers; Russell had asked her to be part of the initiation committee, with the assignment to meet with the newbies and get them settled in to the campus. A blue jay flitted from under a crease in the overhang of the admin building to a live oak across from her and squawked, perturbed, no doubt, that Julie hadn’t let him sleep in. By the time she got back to the faculty lounge, Carla was trying to salvage the icing on a cake she had brought for their first day back.
“It slid off the seat when I had to hit the brakes hard at Dunkin’ Donuts. The guy in front of me at the drive-thru almost hit me with his rear bumper.”
“He was backing up in the drive thru?”
“Not exactly. He was sitting there like he didn’t even see me pulling up. Good thing I stopped in time. But we almost lost the cake.”
Julie swiped a dollop of white icing that Carla had pushed to the edge of the plate and licked her finger. “Yum.”
She went to the bank of mail slots in a shelf unit on the far wall, each one identified by the name of a staff member. There were only a couple of generic first-day forms there. It was too soon to get much. But there was also an intriguing small white card, folded like a pup tent and standing up and staring at her with a blank face. She unfolded the card.
Smile, the note said in manly block letters accompanied by a crude happy face from somewhere out of the seventies.
“I’m going to guess this didn’t come from you.” Julie held it out to her friend.
“Cute. And you’re right. It wasn’t me.” And then as she finished patching the last dent in the cake with a flourish, Carla cocked her head. Without looking at Julie she asked, “So what did our Mr. Festerhaven do this time?”
“What do you mean?” Julie knew exactly what Carla meant.
Carla lowered her voice and motioned with her head for Julie to follow her to the coffeemaker on the far side of the room. “Come on. It’s just the kind of thing he would do when he gets in trouble. Very nice, but really.”
“He hasn’t done anything that I know of.”
“Preemptive apology. Otherwise, why the note? He must have done something and you don’t know it yet.”
“Psh. Don’t be like that.”
“Call me suspicious, but I think he’s up to something. He’s a man. If he isn’t up to something now, he will be.”
It was a familiar joke for Carla. Her playful cynicism where her husband was concerned was part of the reason she was so happily married all these years. You only had to watch Carla and Larry together for a few minutes to see there was a deep current of love and respect below the surface of their teasing. Julie envied her.
Russell’s secretary stuck her head in the door. Mr. Festerhaven was asking about the enrollment retention file that Julie knew was buried in her desk’s in-box. She tucked his sweet little surprise note into her pocket and waved at Russell as they passed his office. It barely registered with him.
“So how is your day starting?” she asked when she returned with the file he wanted.
“Couldn’t be better. But ask me again in an hour.” Russell smiled.
She handed him the file. “Mr. Festerhaven.”
“Mrs. Finch,” he nodded.
Julie reached into her pocket and pulled out the smiley note. She stepped up to the edge of the desk and he asked, “And how is your day starting?”
Julie swished the note card in front of him.
“It’s starting out great. How could it not? This was a nice thing to find in my mailbox first thing this morning.”
Russell glanced at it. “Hmm. It isn’t mine. Who’s playing morale fairy this morning? Mrs. Almeida again? It’s usually her.”
“Nope. I asked her. Besides, that’s not her handwriting.”
“Not mine, either. Though I wish I had thought of it. It’s nice.”
Julie’s eyes narrowed. He might be spoofing and she told him so.
He inspected the card again and then gave her a dismissive scowl. “Do I look like the kind of guy who would sign something with a little smiley face thing like this?”
He had that right. It was a mystery.
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out. It must have been meant for someone else and it got into your mailbox by mistake.”
That must be it, though it irked her that he could dismiss it as a mistake so easily, as if nobody might go out of their way to make a friendly gesture like that for her. Julie took the card and used it to strum the fingers of her left hand. Why did the note feel familiar? It was déjà vu without the déjà or the vu.
Russell’s eyes darted past her and he raised his eyebrows.
“Oh. You’re back. Great timing.” As Julie turned, Russell added, “Mrs. Finch, this fellow says he knows you. Julie, Mr. Evans here is taking over the freshman English class and Creative Composition for the visual arts."
Goodness. She swallowed hard.
“Nate, Julie here will be leading your teacher orientation this afternoon.”
Something clutched in her throat. The curly, long brown locks were gone, and the face was sculpted gently by age but still had a boyish character of someone unaffected by worries or the demands of adulthood. That would be Nate to a T, she thought. If there had been any doubt at all, it disappeared with the goofy grin and the casual circular wave he gave her while leaning against the door.
“Surprise.”
“Boy. Well. Wow. Nate Evans.”
“Julie Cooper. Cooper-Finch. Finch, is it?”
“Nate Evans. Wow.” Quit saying that. “Wow. So many years. Here you are.” Oh, that was a brilliant response. Julie drove her hands into the pockets of her slacks and rocked back on her heels.
“It’s good to see you again, too, Julie. Mrs. Finch, I mean. I guess I’ll have to get used to that.”
“Freshman English?”
“And he’s going to take over Mr. Larsen’s creative writing for the seniors,” Russell said. “I thought it might be good to take advantage of his Hollywood experience. Fiction in the arts.”
“Experience? I’ve sold a few things, so I suppose that counts. Any blind squirrel with a laptop and Microsoft Word can get lucky in Hollywood once in a while. But who knows? Things have changed so much, what with YouTube and all that, I might learn a thing or two from the students. I have to say, it’s ironic. I didn’t know what a magnet school was until somebody explained it to me recently. On top of all the regular high school subjects, you guys have a whole special curriculum for film and theater arts, stuff that I can actually teach. Right here at the school where we graduated. Ironic in a cool sort of way.”
“Ironic.” She could have been blindfolded and she still would have recognized his voice. It was unnerving after all the years spent worlds apart. Nate looked deep into her eyes as he talked and Julie feared she was blushing. She felt like they stood there without saying anything for a century.
“Good. We’ve established the irony of it all.” Russell broke the spell. His eyes shifted from her to Nate and back before he said, “Okay. I’ve got a lot to do this morning. It’s nice that you remember each other and I’m sure you two have a lot to catch up on. I’d love to hear all about it. Later.”
Nate laid a hand on her arm after they moved into the hallway and then withdrew it quickly with embarrassment. He apologized. “Sorry. Flashback. Me and you here on campus. For a moment there it was like we never left.”
“I see you cut your hair,” she said.
“I see you kept your smile.”
He held his gaze on her. Once upon a time, she would have glanced away when he did that, too shy to stare him down. This time she didn’t flinch. You flirt, she thought, though she was glad he said it.
He stepped back and looked her over from head to toe. “It’s so good to see you again.”
Julie shrugged with her palms up. “In the flesh.”
That caused Nate to pause. He was still smiling, but the warmth evaporated. He reached out and took her left hand. “Whoa. Look at this.” It was theatrical, a simple statement overplayed. It was her ring he noticed. He turned her hand one way and then the other as the diamond captured the light from the fluorescents. She couldn’t tell, was he admiring or assessing it?
“Isn’t it sweet? Russell.” Julie nodded toward the principal’s door. “I’m still getting used to the idea. We got engaged last weekend.”