Page 39 of When I'm Gone
“I’m officially scared.” Luke held up his hands like he was fending off an attack.
“No, I only use my powers to fight evil. You’re safe.”
“Whew.” He wiped at his forehead and was surprised at how wet his hand came back. He was almost tempted to try the iced coffee again to help him cool down. A loud bell rang in the background. Luke tried not to check his watch. School must be starting.
“Well, I don’t want to keep you. Should we get down to work?” Ms. Mason flipped open the manila folder lying on the desk. He braced himself, like he did every time he walked in her office. “I wanted your approval on some of these honors courses I mentioned last time you were in here. With his test scores and final grades, he’s qualified for honors English, Chemistry, and American History. I need a parent’s signature to enroll him. I wanted to make sure you think Will could handle the pressure and the workload.”
“I looked at those syllabi you gave me, and I think he can manage it. I know he had a rough patch, but he’s come a long way in the past few months.” He squinted at Ms. Mason. “What do you think?”
“He has. I give you both a lot of credit ... and I agree. I think he’s ready.”
“You definitely get credit too, and I’m glad we agree. I’ll sign the papers now if that’s easier.”
“Sure,” she said, smiling so her dimples showed. Okay, she’s cute and definitely has an original personality, not to mention she’s dedicated to her job. He could acknowledge all those things, but Luke still wasn’t sure he was ready. “So, how’s the therapist working for Will? He seems to like Mr. Cotton.”
She nudged the page his way, and it swooshed across the desk.
“Yeah, it’s been good,” Luke said, distracted by the page full of words in front of him. “I thought for sure he’d bail as soon as his six weeks of forced therapy were up, but he seems to like it. May’s gone a few times too ...” Luke’s words came to a halt as he searched for empty lines to sign. He could feel Ms. Mason watching.
“Well, that’s good. A little therapy never hurt anyone.”
“I guess not,” Luke said as he finished thenat the end of his name. He passed her both the pen and the paper and stood to leave.
“Oh.” The smile on her face fell, and Luke felt a twinge of guilt. It had never been this hard with Natalie. But then again, they were mere kids when they met.
“I’m sorry; this was so nice of you.” Luke gestured to the drinks and snacks. “But I’m late for work.” The second bell rang in the background, and a voice droned over the loudspeaker in the hallway.
“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you. You ... we ... I don’t get many involved fathers. I guess I wanted to say thank you.” She crossed to the door and put her hand on the silver hooked door handle.
“I think you give me more credit than I deserve,” Luke said.
He wasn’t a “good” dad. Natalie had planned it all. Between Annie, Jessie, and now Will, who occasionally decided to be helpful, most days he felt like little more than a figurehead and paycheck.
“No, you’re wrong. Will told me how you did all kinds of research on the letter he found. I think that’s amazing.” Her yellowish-green eyes looked right into Luke’s, and his heart beat a little faster. He opened his mouth to respond with some kind of self-deprecation but closed it again, not wanting to come off as unappreciative.
“Thank you, Ms. Mason. We’re lucky to have you,” Luke said, grabbing his coffee more from guilt than an actual desire to drink it. “I’ll take this with me if you don’t mind?”
“Of course. And you are welcome to the roll too. I put a whole box of them in the teacher’s lounge, so I definitely don’t need any more.”
“Thanks.” Luke rolled it up in the napkin, his hands awkwardly full. “Well, you’ll let me know if you need anything else?”
“Of course.” Ms. Mason opened the door and leaned against it to keep it open.
Luke lifted his drink in her direction. “I’m sure I’ll see you next year.”
“Um, Mr. Richardson.” Ms. Mason tapped the toe of her shoe nervously as she dug around in the wide pockets flaring out at the hip on her black skirt. “I ... I wanted to give you my card. I won’t be checking my work messages very often over the summer, so I wrote my cell number on the back.” The card rested between two of her fingers, the red nail polish matching her shoes almost perfectly.
This was it, the moment where he had a choice to make. He had to take the card, but what would he do with it? Stuff it in the glove compartment in his car, or put it in his wallet, wait a few days or weeks, and then, when he was finally ready, give her a call?
“Oh, your hands are full. Here.” She placed the card on top of the wrapped-up cinnamon roll. “And please, call me Felicity.” The name Felicity Mason flashed up at him from the off-white card stock.
“Thanks for breakfast, Felicity. I’m glad we have you and your ninja skills on our side,” Luke joked, which made Felicity Mason give another one of her hearty laughs. “And I can’t get my business card out right now, but you can call me Luke.”
“Well, Luke”—Felicity balanced on her heels without wobbling—“I hope you have a wonderful summer, and I look forward to hearing from you.”
“Yeah, you too.” As he walked out of the guidance office, he refused to look back in case Ms. Mason ... Felicity ... was still watching him. By the time Luke got to the parking lot, his shirtsleeve was soaked in sweat. On the corner of the sidewalk stood a garbage can, filled with papers, food wrappers, and insulated cups. Luke tossed his drink in the can without stopping. As he headed for the car, a wind gust made the business card flutter. Luke grabbed it before it blew away. On the back, a handwritten message caught his eye.
“Call or text anytime,” with a phone number scrawled underneath. Luke tucked the card away in his back pocket, shaking his head.
