Page 72 of Summer Heat
He smiled. “The Lia I know always had a plan.”
Yes. The truth of that hit her in the chest—and squeezed. She was a planner. That likely wouldn’t change, not in the long run. But in this moment, in the weeks before her graduation, she wanted to drift. She wanted to look around and know that she could go anywhere. Even if she decided to stay here.
“I hope you’ll still talk to me. From DC or wherever you go.”
“Of course I will.” His eyes turned soft, more tender than they had been in years, since back when they were kids and she was a gangly pre-teen. “And you have to give me updates on you. And Ethan.”
She looked down. “I’m really not sure—”
“I am. It needed to happen. Maybe I always knew it would happen.”
“Have a crystal ball?” she teased, feeling more sad than playful. It hurt to be saying goodbye to him, and almost hurt worse that he was letting her go with his blessing. Almost as if he knew what would make her happy, who would make her happy—maybe before she did.
“No.” He met her gaze. “But I have eyes. I saw the way he looked at you.”
Her throat tightened. “And how was that?”
“The same way I did,” he said, and then she couldn’t hold back anymore. The tears fell, and one of her best friends was there to hold her and comfort her and swear that everything would turn out okay. Even though it didn’t feel like that. It felt like the end, but she didn’t know how to begin again.
* * *
In the book and the movie, the Grinch was able to right his wrong immediately. He packed a sleigh and sped over mountain peaks. But Lia had a meeting with her advisor the next day, to make up for yesterday. And then she was scheduled to work.
The school bustled with that energy she loved. Even with the students at their desks and the doors shut, Lia could feel their enthusiasm and curiosity vibrating through the air. Her low heels clicked down the rubber floors until she reached the administrative offices.
The longtime secretary sent her a warning glance and whispered, “She’s expecting you.”
“Great,” Lia said, pretending her stomach wasn’t in knots. She didn’t like disappointing anyone—especially someone she had grown to respect over her years here.
She was disappointing everyone.
Her boss stood as she entered. Melanie was a slender woman with razor sharp eyes. “Where were you yesterday?”
Lia eased the door shut behind her. The whole office didn’t need to hear this. Not that it mattered much. She’d be gone soon. “I had something personal to take care of.” Normally she would stop there. But nothing was normal anymore. “I wasn’t scheduled to work yesterday anyway.”
Melanie frowned. “The play is in a month.”
“I’ll finish the set and the costumes before then. But I won’t be here for the play itself.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m submitting my two weeks’ notice.” This was what she should have done when Melanie turned her down for the teaching position. Lia had been too scared then. She was even more scared now.
“Lia, sweetie. I see what’s happening. You’re graduating. I’m sure you were expecting a bigger raise. And maybe if I speak to the board, I can work something out. But not if you start throwing threats around. That’s not how we operate.”
“I’m not threatening anything,” she said, her voice strange and wobbly. She cleared her throat. End of an era. That’s what it felt like, through every cell of her body. Her time in college, her part time job here, Chris. Over now. “I’m quitting.”
Melanie sighed, looking much older. “Lia, you’re invaluable here. We need you.”
“No, what you need is a full time aide. But that’s not what I am anymore. I’m a teacher. Or I will be.”
In the ensuing silence, her boss leaned back in the creaky leather chair and closed her eyes. “I was afraid this would happen.”
“Then why—” Lia snapped her mouth shut.
Melanie answered anyway. “Because this is a private school with a traditional board. The first thing they’re going to ask me is how many years of experience you have, aka how many grey hairs do you have.” Her gaze flicked over Lia’s appearance with a faint smile. “Whereas you look younger than twenty two.”
Her stomach twisted. It hurt to hear why she hadn’t been in the running—even if she’d known the reason already. And the older teachers did have valuable experience, a certain confidence in the classroom that Lia admired. But Lia had things to offer too: enthusiasm and compassion. That counted for something.
