She thought that when that day would come–if it ever did because, let’s face it, that chapter was never written–she would’ve cried. She thought her heart would break all over again, a year of scarring only adding miles of ocean depth to the pain. Somehow, she didn’t shed a tear. Maybe she didn’t have any tears left to give. Maybe she had already given too much.
Chapter Thirteen
Julia didn’t touch the mailbox the next morning, or the morning after that. Just to be sure it had left her sight entirely, she pretended that little chilled box didn’t exist–magazines, newsletters, and bills piling within. That’s why businesses have grace periods.
Even though she signed those papers and took down all the photos, she couldn’t bring herself to see Erin. For days that stretched into weeks, she avoided her at work like the plague. When she saw her coming down a hall or heard her voice echo from a classroom, she swiftly turned and disappeared down another.
She didn’t know how to apologize to her for her rude dismissal. She didn’t know what to say to her when her gaze lingered too long. She didn’t know how to be firm with her, keep the distance they painstakingly built, while wanting to fall back into her touch. And so, Keegan played defense and allowed her the time to catch up on the meetings and appointments. Julia was conveniently indisposed to anyone who asked.
It was the last day of the week and Julia spent the entire day in a conference room with Keegan, Jonathan, and the rest of the English Department. They scoured over schedules and bus routes to organize the school-wide Broadway show just days away. Tickets were purchased; students were ready. The only thing that wasn’t was the chaperone and student distribution. You know, just a little piece of the puzzle.
It would be the largest school sponsored field trip Kleinton students took in years. Julia couldn’t wait, but at the same time every possible scenario of what could go wrong flickered through the mind on a creaking 1940s film reel.
The Phantom of the Opera was the production chosen by the teachers. It began on Broadway in the 1980s, and this was the last year to experience its brilliance on the big stage. When she first saw The Phantom of the Opera on screen in grade school, she knew she was judged by her cover her entire life up to that point. She realized that, just like her favorite theme in the musical, she was never given the benefit of the doubt. It was one of the best moments of her life–to recognize that she wasn’t as alone as she thought, and getting to relive that gave her something to truly look forward to.
They were finalizing the last group of students for each chaperone when they came up two short. They sat around the list of student names, the volunteers and teachers who were assigned to each. There was a group of 16 students who would have one parent volunteer and no school official.
“We could just disperse those students throughout the other groups,” Keegan suggested again.
“But we’re already pushing numbers as it is,” Jonathan explained, his voice a little irritated. “We’re over two to five students in most groups compared to our last trip, which was half as complicated.”
“What if we put another all-call out to parents and see if we can manage a few more volunteers?” another teacher suggested.
“We tried that yesterday and haven’t received one taker,” Keegan sighed.
Just then, there was a knock at the door. Erin opened it slowly and stepped in with a pile of her department folders in her hands. What was it that flickered on her face? Surprise? It could’ve been relief, but the narrowing of her eyes looked almost like an apologetic pain.
Her hair was down again, beachy waves highlighting the gold in her strands. It was a dress-down day due to half-day teacher conferences, but she still wore a tucked-in, blue pin-striped blouse. Of course, she had on her signature heels, the height always bringing her eye level with Julia.
“I heard you needed another hand at the show?” Erin asked, her voice faltering at the last word as she locked eyes with Julia.
Julia opened her mouth to respond, to try to get out at least one syllable when she’d been mute for weeks, but Jonathan jumped in first.
“Absolutely!” he said with that award-winning smile. Keegan leaned over the table with him to review the current list of chaperones as she adjusted groups.
“If we move Julia here,” she said, pushing Julia and Erin’s names together, “we’ll have one school official in each group.”
Julia gave a momentary scowl towards Keegan.
“That sounds like a great plan.” Julia smiled sincerely, holding back the stab for Keegan later. She didn’t expect the rush of relief she felt after hearing Erin’s voice after so long without it. “Thank you, Erin.”
“Mrs. Jenner, I actually was just popping in to ask for a moment of your time for some paperwork,” Erin explained cautiously.
Julia nodded, reminded Jonathan of what still had to be done, then picked up her things and followed Erin to the office they once shared.
“Thank you,” Julia said as Erin opened the door.
“I know you’re busy, Mrs. Jenner.” Erin didn’t take a seat, her body straight as a board in the doorway. The formality of her stance spread out like octopus’ arms within the room, sucking the oxygen out. “I’ll be brief and then get out of your hair. I just need a quic–”
“Erin,” Julia’s voice was a plea, “please have a seat.” Julia motioned towards the chair next to her desk. “I’m happy to help with anything you need.”
Erin walked over and began pulling out her papers without looking up. Julia needed to get everything back on track. She needed to squash what bloomed in her chest before it could take any more root than it already had. But… But? But there was something about being in the same room with her, something about her presence that sent a wave of heat through her entire body–a feeling of calm, a feeling of everything crashing into her at once.
Erin’s voice still hummed in her ears. It was like being wrapped in satin from the inside out. If only life could be as easy as it was to forget everything when looking at her. If only life could be like that.
“I just need a signature on these department evaluations I’ve started.” She placed four highlighted documents before Julia, a large yellow X identifying where she had to sign.
“Would you like me to read them now and sign, or would you prefer I get them back to you later?” She lifted the papers to review them, trying to avoid looking Erin in the eyes.