5

The autumn mustiness of dried leaves swirled around Angie on the walk from her new home to the school. The crisp cool of early November made her heart sing. Today, she was beginning a new adventure. She rang the doorbell at the school’s main entrance.

A faceless voice answered through the intercom. “May I help you?”

“Angela Taylor. I have an appointment with Mrs. Thornton.”

“She’s expecting you. One moment, please.”

A woman about Angie’s age appeared at the glass door and opened it for her. “Ms. Taylor? I’m Megan, Mrs. Thornton’s assistant and the school secretary. Welcome. So nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you as well.” Angie followed her down the hall toward Isabel’s office. The same feeling of awe and excitement she had when she’d first visited the school rushed back over her.

Megan tapped on the principal’s office door.

“Come in,” Isabel replied, her voice muffled.

Megan gestured toward the door. “Stop by the office before you go home, and I’ll give you a set of keys and a handbook. We’re glad you’re here.”

Angie took a deep breath and opened the office door. A man occupied the chair with its back turned toward the door. Isabel sat in the one facing her.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mrs. Thornton. Megan didn’t tell me you had a guest. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Isabel stood. “Angie. I’m so glad you’re here. And you’re not interrupting. It’s just Adam.”

The man stood and turned toward her. Today he looked professional in his suit and tie. His hair was combed away from his face, perfectly in place. The scruffy beard was gone. Nothing about him said “contractor” except the faint discolored blotch in the middle of his forehead.

He offered his hand. “Hello, Angela. Did you get settled in?”

She nodded as they shook hands. “Angie.”

“Adam.” Isabel planted her hands on her hips and then turned toward Angie. “He didn’t tell you, did he?”

“Tell me…?”

Isabel shook her head and wagged her finger at Adam. Then she turned back toward Angie. “This is my son. Part-time contractor, part-time legal advisor, full-time real estate attorney, and ridiculous tease. I’m so sorry. One of us should have told you. It just slipped my mind…probably because I assumed he would.”

Angie played back every conversation he might have overheard, every facial expression she’d made, and every attitude she’d displayed.

“So, how’s the house?” Adam winked at her.

Her cheeks warmed. “Very nice.”

“Everything’s in good shape? Working OK?”

“I’m having some trouble with the cable, but I’ll figure it out.”

“I’ll stop by after work and take a look at it. It has a history of being finicky.”

“That’s really not necessary. I’m sure I can fix it.”

“You wouldn’t want me to lose my job due to negligence, would you?”

Angie was pretty sure that would never happen.

He leaned in and pecked Isabel on the cheek. “Gotta run.” Then he turned and grinned at Angie. “See you a little after five.”

~*~

Angie curled up on the wicker sofa in the sunroom and drew one of Grammy’s crocheted afghans over her legs. She opened the next volume of the educational set Isabel had given her. She wanted to soak up every idea, every example set forth in the books. This philosophy of not watering down ideas, of offering children the best and highest and letting them take what they could, was contrary to everything she’d been taught in both college and grad school. But when she’d observed the various classrooms, its truth rang loud and clear in her heart.

The spiciness of the soup she’d put in the slow cooker this morning mixed with the nutty aroma of the cornbread baking in the oven. The air was filled with a comforting warmth that said home. She’d spent only one night in this house, but she felt as though she belonged here.

A black BMW pulled into her driveway, and Adam stepped out. The lawyering business must be pretty profitable. But from what little she knew of him, he was a hard worker. Any success he’d achieved was most likely earned.

She closed the book and made her way to the door. Opening it, she waited. He walked up the driveway. “You really didn’t have to come by tonight. I’m sure you’re tired.”

He grinned and loosened his tie. “Wasn’t it Thomas Jefferson who said not to put off anything you could do today…or something like that?” He shrugged. “I mean, who am I to question a founding father?”

“True, but it was Ben Franklin.” She smiled.

He grinned. “You’re right. Anyway, who knows what tomorrow might bring?” He stepped into the living room and pulled off his suit coat and tie and draped them across the arm of the sofa. “Let me take a look at that cable.”

He walked to the right of the fireplace and scooted the shelf out from the wall. He knelt down and began fiddling with the wires. “The HDMI cable wasn’t making a good connection, but it should work fine now.” He grabbed the remote from the shelf and aimed it at the TV. The screen burst to life. He turned it off, slid the shelf back into place, stood, and stretched. “Anything else you need me to check while I’m here?”

“No…thank you. You really didn’t need to make a special trip. What do I owe you?”

“All part of the deal.” He pulled a business card from his wallet and handed it to her. “Need anything else, call me.” His stomach growled. “Sorry. I worked through lunch. And something smells really good.”

“It’s Poppy soup.”

“Poppy soup…?” He raised his eyebrows. “Gotta be a story there.”

She leaned close. He wore the same cologne she’d given Will for his birthday. The same expensive cologne she’d loved, but Will hated. “My grandfather’s secret recipe,” she whispered.

His eyes locked onto hers. They were deep chocolate. “Got it,” he whispered back. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

The kitchen timer dinged. “That would be the cornbread.”

“Well, let me get out of your hair.” He headed toward the sofa to get his jacket and tie.

“Adam?”

He turned back and raised his eyebrows.

“The recipe makes a ton. If you won’t let me pay you, you could at least let me feed you.”

He grinned. “You’re a good negotiator.” He followed her into the kitchen.

She pulled the cornbread out of the oven while he opened the cabinet above the dishwasher. Of course, he’d know where everything was kept.

He stared at the stacked dishes. “So what all do we need?”

“Bowls, bread and butter plates, and flatware. I would have made a salad if I’d known I would have company.”

“Soup and cornbread’s great.” He carried everything to the kitchen table and set two places. He went back to the cabinet and got down two glasses. “Water OK? Or something else?”

“Water’s fine.” She set the soup and cornbread on the table while he filled the glasses, and the realization struck her. He was awfully comfortable around the kitchen. He knew how to set a table…even knew which plates were used for the bread and butter. He was married. So shouldn’t he be having dinner with his family? His wife and possibly children? A knot formed in her chest. Perspiration prickled her scalp. This was beginning to feel illicit. She shouldn’t have invited him for dinner. She didn’t want to lose her job before she even really got started.

He walked around the table and pulled out a chair for her. “Miss?”

She sat. “I didn’t even think to ask if you needed to call…anyone…and let them know about your change in dinner plans.”

He slipped into the chair across from her and shook his head. “No use. Lucy always lets calls go to voicemail.”

“Lucy?”

“My dog.” He winked.

She spooned soup into his bowl and handed it back to him. Then she filled hers. “Hey, I’m sorry about that knock on your forehead.”

“I doubt there’s any permanent damage.” A smile brightened his face, and his eyes sparkled with life. “Mind if I bless the food?”

~*~

Adam stared at the sparks swirling skyward from the flames in the fire pit. Lucy stood up and wagged her tail. A hand rested on his shoulder, and he reached up and squeezed it. “Hey, Mom. How was the board meeting?”

“Long…but good. Angie’s official.” She slipped into the chair beside his. “Did you find some dinner?”

He nodded. “Went by the house to fix the cable, and Angie invited me to stay for dinner.”

“I see.”

The crackling and popping of the fire filled the silence between them.

He turned so he could see Mom’s face. “Would the son of the principal and a faculty member dating have any ethical implications?”

Mom rested her hand on his. “You know she’s in a serious relationship.”

“Yep.”

Mom sighed. “Since she’s an administrator, I don’t believe there are any ethical problems…but I do know it could be very complicated.”

He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “I’m good at complicated.”