Page 38 of The Write Place

“She’s not going to stop.” I know my voice is full of regret, and I leave it there, unable or unwilling to hide it anymore.

“Yeah. We should get out of here.” His eyes search mine again, but he releases his grip on my waist and I feel a sudden shock of coldness at the absence of his body against mine. We make our way out of the maze together, slowly enough that I can feel Jenny’s impatience seeping through the gaps in the corn.

We spend another few hours there, drinking apple cider and eating hot dogs, feeding the animals in the petting zoo, and going on hayrides. Daniel keeps a respectful distance from me when Jenny and Ben are looking, but when they aren’t, he finds all sorts of excuses to brush his fingers against mine or place his hand on my back. I’m having so much fun that I don’t resist his touches, and I find myself more than a little disappointed when Jenny and Ben drop us off at my place. We stand at the end of the driveway as her car pulls away.

It seems like neither of us wants to leave, so I venture, “Do you want to come in?”

He runs his hand through his hair. “You have no idea how much I want to come in.” His voice is remorseful, “but I have to get some pages to my editor by tonight.”

“Oh. Right. Of course.” I feel a little silly for asking, but the desire is still written plainly on his face.

“Rain check,” he insists, and I bite my lip. His eyes catch the movement, then he drags them back to mine.

“Rain check,” I agree, and he doesn’t move right away, as if he wants to remember me in this moment.

As he drives away, I let out a long breath, opening the door to my condo. I pull off my hat, dropping it on the table, and scrub my hands through my hair. Daniel has steadily and thoroughly cracked through the boundary I’ve built between personal and professional, and I flop on the couch, waiting for guilt or remorse or fear, but none comes. The only thing I feel is warm and light, like I can carry this feeling with me through the rest of the weekend. As soon as I acknowledge it, I realize I haven’t felt this way in a really long time.

Chapter 16

As we start the week, Daniel is respectful of my space at work, and I return the favor by not bothering him in the evening while I know he is writing furiously. His editor—who sounds like a real piece of work—has been breathing down his neck for more pages, and I don’t want to be the reason he doesn’t finish when I’m supposed to be the reason he can write this book in the first place.

We’re nearing the middle of October, which is a difficult time for teachers. The honeymoon from the start of the school year is most definitely over, and students who haven’t been doing much all school year have either fully decided they won’t start or are panicked that they might fail and are trying to turn all of their late work in all at once. It leaves very little time to plan, make copies, grade papers, or do any of the million other things that keep the classroom running smoothly. Because of this, I’ve started leaving school later and later each day to get things together, at least enough so I can keep teaching while also dealing with the rest of it. Daniel has started staying late with me, and we have been sitting together in companionable silence, the scratch of his pen or the click of his keys becoming a sort of soundtrack to my grading and shuffling papers.

On Wednesday, it’s later than usual when I decide to make some copies before finally packing it in and heading home. As I’m walking down the hallway toward the copy machine, I hear voices and raucous laughter coming from one of the classrooms near the copier. I don’t think anything of it—often coaches stay late to chat after practice, and they’re a loud bunch—until I hear my name.

“Mac thinks she owns this place and Ken will just do her bidding.” It’s Marty. I roll my eyes. Back on his bullshit. I shake my head in dismay. “This is just like before, when she couldn’t bother to show up because she was so sad, and she had to bring Ken in to stand up for her.”

That’s not at all what happened after Ellie died, but I want to hear more, so I slow my walk to stay out of sight as another voice chimes in. It’s Edgar, a social science teacher. “Didn’t he have to justify keeping her around because she missed so many days or something?”

“Something like that.” Marty laughs humorlessly. “I wonder what she and Evans have going on. They seem to be together all the time whenever I see them.”

I pause, my heart pounding as more laughter comes from the room, and it is clear there are more than two people in there. Do these assholes sit around talking about me? I force myself to keep walking slowly, trying to decide what to do. The copy room is just on the other side of the open classroom doorway, so the only choices I have are to walk past and risk them seeing me, or to abandon all hope of getting caught up, turn around, and call it a night.

“You two are close,” Marty’s voice drifts out into the hallway, and I wonder who he’s talking to. “What has she told you about him?” I square my shoulders and walk with more purpose. I want to know who is “close” to me but would sit in there and let these assholes say this stuff. And I wouldn’t mind causing them some embarrassment when they realize I’ve heard. When I’m close enough, I see something worse than Marty and Edgar. Ben Allouer—the man who was hired with us, the man who flirts constantly with my best friend and whom I had considered a decent enough human being to date her, the man who ate donuts and took pictures of us at the pumpkin patch a few short days ago—is sitting right there, mouth open as if to respond to Marty’s question.

I stop in my tracks again and stare. It doesn’t take long before he sees me, and his eyes go wide. I shake my head slowly, trying to process this. I don’t think I could get in trouble if anyone found out about whatever has happened between Daniel and me. Teachers date other teachers all the time, and technically, he doesn’t even work here. What concerns me more is the fact that people—including someone I consider a friend—are sitting around and talking about me after school.

I suddenly feel dizzy. I need to get out of here before I totally lose it, so I pivot on my heel and walk fast. My heart is racing, and my hands are shaking. I’m trying to take deep breaths, but I can’t. I need to get out of the hallway, and fast. I see Jenny’s light is on in her classroom, so I bolt for it, pulling the door open and shutting it behind me. I whirl around to see Jenny, who is sitting straight up in her chair. I probably look ghostly pale, and I can feel that I am shaking. She drops her pen on the desk.

“Holy hell, Mac. What happened?” Jenny is on her feet in an instant, coming toward me. She pulls me from the doorway and pushes me into a student desk, taking a seat next to me.

I can feel my heart still pounding, and I struggle to get the words out. “They were… talking about me… Marty… and Edgar… and Ben.”

“Ben?!” Her exclamation is an explosion, and she’s out of her seat in a second. I grab her wrist and pull her back to her seat. She plops back down, but I can feel her steaming. I’m still gulping air, tears stinging my eyes, but she waits a little impatiently for me to get to a point where I can tell her what happened.

“They picked up right where Marty left off in the meeting last week. Commenting on my demeanor. Marty…” I swallow heavily before I can get the words out, and I start to rub my thumb over my ring. “Marty said this was just like when I needed Ken to stand up for me after Ellie.”

“That’s not what happened,” Jenny insists vehemently.

I wave a hand and shake my head. “I know. Apparently they and their toxic masculinity don’t accept the ways people process grief. They never did, but that’s not all of it. He suggested there’s something going on between Daniel and me. He asked Ben about it.”

“Pricks,” Jenny says under her breath.

“I didn’t hear what Ben said.”

“But he was there.” Fury underlines her voice.

“He was there. He was laughing,” I admit. She springs to her feet again.