Page 50 of The Tattered Gloves
Can this day get any weirder?
“Is it okay that I did this?” Addy asked as we walked through the front door, both carrying grocery bags. “She looked so sad and lonely. Her husband died just over a year ago.”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” I answered before adding, “What are we going to talk about?”
“She’s not an alien, Willow,” she replied.
“I know,” I answered although I wasn’t sure I agreed.
I followed her into the kitchen, intent on helping her with dinner. It was something I’d sort of fallen into. First, it had been a way to earn my keep, I guessed. If I couldn’t pay for things, I could at least help prepare the food and keep things tidy.
But, now, it was actually something I looked forward to. It was a little tricky — cutting vegetables with yarn-covered fingers — but I’d learned to manage. At least, if things went upside down again and I found myself back in that cold apartment, I’d know how to cook for myself.
It was something I tried not to think about.
The possibility of going back.
But, sometimes, being here felt too good to be true, and I knew what they said about things that were too good to be true.
They usually were.
Mrs. Landers — or Trudy, as my aunt called her — arrived right on time. This didn’t surprise me in the least. Most teachers were sticklers for punctuality — with a few notable exceptions.
Although still wearing the same knit pants, she’d changed into a seasonable sweater and done her makeup. She looked more like the woman who greeted me in History class every day and less like the grocery-shopping stranger we’d run into this afternoon.
And, now, she was standing in our living room.
Crazy.
“Willow, why don’t you get Trudy a soda or a glass of water?” Addy suggested, making me realize I was standing in the living room, awkwardly staring at my teacher.
“Sure,” I replied, jumping into action.
Mrs. Landers requested a cup of coffee instead, and thankfully, Addy had had the foresight to brew a pot. I wasn’t much for the stuff, so I poured a medium-size cup and pulled out the half-and-half Addy used as well as several varieties of sugar packets, including the gross fake kinds Addy liked.
I brought them out into the living room and set everything down on the coffee table in front of Mrs. Landers, taking a place next to Addy on the couch.
“Thank you, dear,” she said sweetly.
“In the store, Trudy was telling me how well you had done on your project — both of you actually,” Addy said, a hint of pride in her voice.
It made me blush.
“Oh?” I said, curious as to what she meant by both of us.
“Yes, I really enjoyed the sections you wrote about Sam’s early family and the settlement of the town. I know I’ve heard it before, but reading it from your perspective and his, it was really quite fascinating.”
I gave a half-smile, remembering our conversation at the bookstore and how funny I’d thought it was that he was one of twelve Sams in his family.
He’d offered to get me information on why the town was named Sugar Tree, and he’d done just that. But reading it in an email just hadn’t been the same.
None of it was the same.
“He had a lot of wonderful things to say about you as well,” she said, instantly grabbing my attention.
I opened my mouth to respond, but what could I say to something like that?
“It’s examples like the two of you that made me decide to change the project this year. Bringing students together, making connections — that’s what I hoped they’d gain from the work. Yes, I wanted you to learn about your families and gather insight about others, but the relationships you make now are so important. My hope is that a lot of lifelong friendships will blossom out of this little exercise.” She smiled before adding with a wink, “And perhaps a few marriages.”
I gulped as both adults laughed at my obvious unease.
“That’s doubtful,” I replied, rising from my spot on the couch to flee to the kitchen. I thought I’d had enough parent-teacher bonding for now.
“She might not believe me now, but she didn’t read what he had written,” I heard Mrs. Landers whisper softly enough that she must have thought I couldn’t hear her.
It froze me in my tracks.
Just when I’d finally done a decent job of convincing myself that Sam wasn’t worth my time, now, I was stuck here, wondering,What in the world did he say?
