“I can tell you take very good care of that school.”
“It’s my baby.” Julia beamed.
“Speaking of,” Erin paused for a moment, considering her words, “do you have children within the district?”
The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions. Julia’s gaze shifted, her eyes briefly tracing the contours of Erin’s face before settling on her hands. Memories flooded back, dreams shattered. The ache of what could have been gnawed at her heart. She thought she buried those thoughts deep within, locking them away in a vault sealed with liquid regret.
Julia never spoke of children with anyone else, not even Keegan. In the grand tapestry of her life, there were too many threads unraveling. She had a picture in her mind of where she would be and what she would have before she reached the age of forty, and for a brief moment years ago, she thought she had it all.
She had the woman, one with a heart of gold and flaming beauty that made her skin sing. She had the professional accolades. She had the respect of all of her peers. She had the job. She had the friends, the house, the car. She felt like life couldn’t get any better, but that’s when it started. That was when the complacency and comfort sunk too deep–a fissure beginning to pull apart the stitching at the seams–when the house began to seem a little less full. When it all began to fall apart, thread by thread disintegrating like a moth’s last meal. It became unrecognizable.
“It never was quite the right time,” she responded eventually. She lost focus as she looked off into the distance. “Lately, I’ve been finding myself looking back a lot, questioning the choices that led me to where I am today.” Erin just looked at her, that knowing look pulling at the corners of her eyes. “Do you?”
“It’s never been the right time for me, either. I tend to throw myself into my work rather than have a personal life.” Gosh, that smile. Right then, right at that very moment, Julia realized she would tell her anything. “I feel like you probably know the feeling.”
Oh, Julia did. She knew that feeling because it took up roots in her soul, weighing her bones down like rocks at the bottom of a pail. She wanted so hard for her life to mean something–to be more important than just her–and so she hurtled into her work like a child running downstairs on Christmas morning.
Now she looked back and wondered what she could’ve done differently, if she could’ve put Marin any farther to the front than she already had, if she could have given any more of herself. If she had, if she gave Marin the last piece of herself left, what would she have left now that she walked out? Looking back, was 15 years of marriage too long? Or was it not long enough? If Jack and Rose managed to share the wooden door as the Titanic sank, would they have made it?
Desperate to shift the conversation, Julia asked, “are you excited to go back?”
“I am,” Erin said, but her smile was almost sad. “It’s been too long.”
“Have you made friends here in New York?”
“I spend a lot of time writing up my reports,” she answered. “I’m kind of one of those people who’d rather have the little bit of free time I get by myself than be surrounded by others that I don’t really know.”
Me too.
“I understand that.”
“It’s hard to make friends in different places that I might not ever get to see again.” Erin’s focus pulled towards the scratched laminate tabletop.
“Some days I feel like my office has a revolving door. There are weeks I wish I didn’t have to see another face again.”
“Really?” Erin appeared genuinely surprised. “When you talk in front of people, they can’t take their eyes off of you. You are so personable. I’ve barely known you for more than a day, but I could talk to you for hours.” She took a sip of her drink, as if she was willing away the words she just confessed. “I would peg you more as a social butterfly.”
“You’ll get to know the real me as we work together,” Julia chuckled. “A social butterfly will not be in your vocabulary.”
Oh, shit. Why would Julia assume that they would be working that closely together? Why would Erin actually want to take the time to get to know the real her? Julia looked up, expecting to see nervous eyes staring back at her, but there was only that smile.
They continued eating their pizza while Julia thought about asking Erin about more. She wanted to know what made Erin look twice at her, what pulled so much attention. Maybe it was the culmination of everything that was her. Erin’s eyes were large with fascination; not almond like most, but uniquely circular in such a way that you could see her lashes flutter from feet away.
She always kept her shoulders taunt, her back straight as if she spent hours in the mirror practicing her posture. Julia noticed that when she talked, often getting lost in something Erin shouldn’t have found interesting at all, she allowed her shoulders to rest as she leaned closer. She leaned closer a lot, that sensual scent of vanilla always there mixing with the fruity aroma of her breath.
As Julia savored her last bite of pizza, she glanced at the paperwork she brought with her. They’d eventually have to address it, and she knew it’d be better to do so sooner rather than later.
“Here goes nothing,” Julia sighed. “I know we will be working closely on this evaluation, and I wanted to let you know that what happened last night won’t affect our professional relationship.” Julia’s voice was soft, but serious.
For a brief moment, she detected a flicker of disappointment creeping into Erin’s eyes, but it disappeared as she picked up her beer and looked towards the door. How could Julia address it without having to talk about it? They both had to know–had to understand–that whatever happened last night was a fluke, a part of the past they couldn’t revisit.
She looked back up and met Julia’s eyes, her composure never changing. She looked like she wanted to say something, something important, but she let her lips part and then close again.
“I think we should be able to do that.” Erin smiled, but it looked forced.
It didn’t matter that Julia wanted to crash into her pouty lips again. They’d be able to be in the same room without jumping the other. Easily. We’re adults. This will be fine.
“So, let’s get down to business.” Julia pulled out her faculty schedule and the guidelines outlined by McSellen and the board. “I figured week one you can start with this department,” she pointed at her notes, trailing along the timeline while explaining who each person and department was.