Page 107 of Seasons of Love
I groan, which makes my headache worse.
Picking up my phone, I pull up the teacher’s group and type a message before getting up from my desk to get ready.
Ellis: I’m on my way. Not feeling a hundred percent.
Jan: Oh dear. We’ll order your coffee.
Ellis: I love you.
Jan: Of course you do. I’m awesome.
Fifteen minutes later, I arrive at Bittersweet, where a few of the teachers arranged to meet up for a midsummer-break catch-up over lunch. Except I haven’t even had breakfast.
Jan’s curious gaze peers at me from the top of her pink-framed glasses as I sit across from her on the empty chair with the full cup of coffee in front of it. The secretary is the most lovable person in the school, but also the nosiest and sharpest. I better keep my mouth shut until I have more caffeine in me.
“Hey, Ellis, partying hard this summer?” someone teases.
“You know it. Me and my wild ways.” I take a sip of the coffee and lean back on the chair, closing my eyes and waiting for the caffeine to reach my bloodstream. “Thank you to the angel who brewed this coffee,” I mutter.
“Anytime, Ellis.” I open my eyes and see Julius, the owner of Bittersweet, clearing a nearby table. “You look like you need a couple of painkillers to go with that.” He laughs.
I raise the cup. “I’m good on painkillers, but I’d murder for one of your lemon muffins.”
“Coming right up.”
Julius goes inside, so I turn to the faces around the table. “Sorry I’m late. What did I miss?”
“Looks like we’re the ones missing something. Our summer has clearly been a lot less interesting than yours,” Sonya, the PE teacher, says, raising a brow.
“If you want to subject yourself to liver failure”—and years of therapy—“I can tell you where to be next Thursday evening.”
“I hear you’re volunteering at the soup kitchen,” Jan says.
A change of topic. Thank you, Jan. “Yeah. It’s been a real eye-opener, but I’m enjoying supporting that community.”
“There’s a rumor going around that Mrs. Martin is pushing the mayor to turn the playground by the church on the south side of town into a parking lot to stop the tourists that come to the craft fair from parking on the residential streets on the north side of town.”
“Hold up,” someone else says. “Sonya, doesn’t your girlfriend work closely with the town council?”
“Yes, she does.”
A lot of eyes meet in a silent conversation.
“I’m a little lost here, people. Does anyone care to fill in the newbie?” I ask.
Sonya looks at everyone. “At the moment, this is just a rumor.” The way she emphasizes the word makes me wonder if this is more than a rumor. “But yes, it seems Mrs. Martin has moved on from crafts into town planning.”
“I’m even more lost now,” I say.
“Mrs. Martin is basically Stillwater’s Wicked Witch of the West, or whatever they call it. If you want to know more, ask Arlo and Levi. You taught their kid, Ava, right?”
“Yeah, she was in my class last year.”
“One thing is for sure. If Mrs. Martin’s really got it in for that playground, it’ll take the town or a very strong-willed mind to change the course of action.”
If I was already struggling to get Milo and yesterday’s conversation off my mind, it’s even worse now that I know there’s a chance the playground he may have played on growing up could be destroyed.
There’s not much I can do right now, so I park the information I’ve just learned to one side and join the conversation as we start talking about classes for next year, activity plans, and teaching schedules.
