He couldn't help feeling a little wistful for what might have been. Well, we
all got older. We all moved on, didn't we?
He gave a short sniff. Except for him, he supposed. Still here in Golden Grove. He almost thought “stuck.” But he made a habit of not using that word
anymore.
He pulled into the school lot, then guided the car to the teacher's parking spaces. Not too much longer and he wouldn't be able to drive the Mustang to work. Once the snow hit, he'd be back to the Camry.
He parked next to a familiar blue Taurus. Good old Lucius. Been working here as a teacher for forty-odd years and he still came in on Sunday nights. He
put the Mustang in park and got out.
Time to get back to the real world.
The empty halls of the high school always seemed strange on the weekends,
as they were usually full of banging lockers and a mass of teenagers. Some laughing and shoving, some silently moving on to their next class, lost in the background of popularity. For some reason, those were the ones Peter noticed the most. Maybe because he once felt like one of them. Or maybe because he had an over-inflated sense of justice. “Every kid deserves the same shot,” and all that.
He unlocked the door of his small but well-equipped office and tossed his keys on the desk. For all the hassles sometimes he did love his job. He hadn't thought he would.
The first year was rough. He hadn't done much teaching in grad school, so
the students rolled over him pretty well, and there was talk of him not being cut
out for teaching. If it weren't for Lucius, he wouldn't have survived.
Once he settled down and finally found his groove, it all kind of seemed to
come naturally. From there, it just got better every semester. Now there was this
“Science Teacher of the Year” thing. He had to admit, he was flattered, but he'd
trade it in a second for one more student who could name just ten elements in the
periodic table.
He was about to start going over some lab papers when he heard a knock on
his door frame. Lucius's familiar mustached face leaned in.
“Well, well. If isn't the merry matchmaker,” Peter said, nodding.
The older man's eyes twinkled. “I suppose I should apologize.”
“Yeah, I suppose you should.”
“Would it help to say that it was all Carol's idea?”
“It might if I believed that.”
“Well, then, give me some more time to come up with a better excuse.”
“I doubt that's possible. What were you thinking, Lucius?”
“You're not mad, are you?”
“Yes, actually, I think I am. How embarrassing do you think that was for Kate? She's trying to keep a low profile, and you and Carol drag her all over town.”
Lucius came in and sat on the edge of Peter's desk. “I suppose I didn't think
of it that way. Did you at least have a good time? I heard you went for a drive.”
Thanks to neighbor Carol, no doubt. Peter bit his upper lip. Lucius wasn't going to drop this, was he? “That depends on what you mean by good. 'Good' as
in she didn't kill me and leave me in a ditch somewhere, or 'good' as in she gave
me such a frosty send-off I'm surprised my eyebrows didn't freeze off.”
“So, there's still hope?”
Peter snorted. “Hope? Hope for what, exactly?”
“Oh, c'mon. It couldn't have been that bad.”
“Lucius, the woman hasn't been back in this town for more than twelve
years. She's not going to just breeze in carrying a truckload of memories, forget
