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“I think that would be a great place to start,” Erin agreed. “I’ll touch base with you daily to debrief.” Julia hated how much she liked that part.
“Great!”
“Oh, there is one more thing. I have to do an evaluation of you and your position as well,” Erin looked down at her own paperwork, “and the other administrators, of course.”
Nervously, Julia said, “of course.”
It almost felt as if Erin could sense her change in demeanor, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “Julia, I want to assure you that I will remain entirely objective. Whatever is occurring on a personal level will not influence me.”
Occurring? “Oh,” Julia huffed, presenting as if the thought didn’t cross her mind. “I’m not worried about that!”
Erin’s knowing smile made it seem like she could peer into Julia’s hazel eyes and see right through her. She let out a deep, lingering sigh.
“I understand why you want to keep this professional.” She looked as if she wanted to reach for her again. Would Julia have let her touch her milky skin again if she was close enough? “I won’t hold it against you, and I promise I’ll evaluate you and your school fairly. That’s what I was hired to do.”
Julia understood every word Erin said, and she believed her. It was just the choice of wording that caught her attention. She wanted to keep it professional? Wasn’t this the only way forward? Was there some hidden message in that promise?
“I appreciate that.” Julia smiled, only partially relieved. “I’ll continue to speak highly of you to the faculty. Just be cautious, though; you know what they say about teachers.”
They both laughed, the tension lifting high above them as if it was never there. They finished their beers over light conversation of how much the education system has changed and how privatization ruined reform. Erin explained her transition from private to public education. They talked about their favorite places in Virginia and New York, both getting lost in the way they clung to every word.
As the room gradually emptied and tables were being cleared, they both looked at each other expectedly. Two hours of conversation didn’t seem like it was long enough. Reaching for their jacket at the same time, they awkwardly stood and cleaned off their table. It was as if both knew the end was coming, that Monday morning was around the corner and they’d have to act like the colleagues they were. So they stood there, wiping an already spotless table with damp napkins, prolonging the inevitable.
“Well,” Erin sighed.
Julia hesitated, knowing she had to return to an empty house once she got into her car. They discussed everything they needed to professionally, organizing their four months down to the class period. All that there was left was personal conversation, and they both agreed–in more or less words–they’d keep their distance. They had a job to do.
“Do you want to take a walk with me?” Julia asked.
She knew she shouldn’t have. She knew she should keep her distance, but then there was that smile and she simply melted before it.
Chapter Seven
They opened the door, the bell humming in the distance as they turned down the sidewalk. Small shops and apartments lined the snow beaten road, reaching just two stories up on all sides. The wind blew wisps of flurries across the yellow lines, shimmering beneath hazy street lights before resting on the bottom of closed doors.
Julia looked at Erin, her eyes gleaming as she continued to talk about an incredible bookstore she fell upon two years ago in a remote part of Maryland. If Julia looked hard enough, she could see snowflakes reflect like tiny moons in her eyes. She could get lost in those eyes, at how she lit up describing a one of a kind edition of one of Ernest Hemmingway’s earliest novels. She spoke of the binding in such detail that Julia could picture it before her, gold scrollwork across green fraying leather.
“So, you’re a book enthusiast?” Julia smiled, burying her cold hands deeper in her coat pockets. The wind picked up around them, sending a shiver down her spine. They walked closer together, their arms occasionally brushing through thick jackets.
“I wouldn’t say that! I have appreciation for the finer things in life.”
“As you should.”
“What about you?” Erin’s pace slowed a little. “What do you do for fun?”
They reached a corner store, the red “closed” sign blinking in the window. It had to be almost eleven, but Julia refused to check her watch. Her cold nose was the only clue that they’ve walked for over an hour already. It felt like just seconds as she sunk deeper into Erin’s voice.
“I read,” Julia thought a little more between breaths, “usually when I can’t sleep.” She took a few more steps, contemplating what else she did in her spare time.
“What do you read?” Erin asked, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.
“Mostly trashy romances.” Julia grimaced. “Definitely not in the Hemmingway mindset these days. I feel like I have to be so serious at work. My writing is only academic now. I think it’s just a guilty little pleasure.”
“Please! I’m a complete cliche. I only read the classics! What else do you do?”
“I think that might be it. Work keeps me pretty busy. How sad is that?” They both smiled at each other. Why did she never want to stop laughing, to stop smiling, around her?
She used to spend weekends hiking in the Adirondacks, hiding in a cabin off the beaten trail hidden by fallen brush. Her fingers would dance across canvases, creating breathtaking abstract portraits–crisp cerulean melding with amber skies in subtle strokes–until her fingers grew numb from the angle of her paintbrush. She used to run, annoying Marin at 4 a.m. while she searched for a base layer in the dark; she always forgot to take out her clothes the day before. Julia used to do so much, have so much worth doing.
