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~~ Lorelai ~~
I rearrange the chairs in the office I share with the Assistant Director for a less clinical feel while Mrs. Corbyn is taking my morning class. She despises doing classes. I think she may even despise the children under her care.
She had tried to schedule this disciplinary meeting herself, but I’d insisted. I’d also strategically given my assistant, Ana, the day off to keep her from being manipulated into taking over the morning class. I didn’t want Mrs. Corbyn anywhere near this. I fully expect she’s going to review the camera footage later to critique me. I can take her judgement in private, but not in front of parents.
I don’t even know if Mr. Carlo is going to show up since he didn’t return the conference request card I’d sent home. I’m set up anyway, banking on his desire to be involved. There were other, less affluent preschools in this town. Most of the parents I’ve met with seem genuinely interested in their child’s growth, although there are a few who seem to have only signed up because it’s the most prestigious school in town.
I sense a presence and turn to greet him. My exhale hangs in the air and my next breath doesn’t come. I know my mouth is hanging open, but so is his. At least four of my parents are named James. I didn’t think anything of it. But it’s my James standing in the doorway.
He’s in a long-sleeved button up and dark jeans that are tight enough to show the outline of his cock if you look for it, and I don’t seem to be able to pull my eyes away for several long seconds.
My inhalation finally snaps back with a gasp, and it jars me out of whatever stupor had overcome me. I move my eyes to his face. He’s still so beautiful, but his dark eyes look exhausted and there’s a two-day beard growth on his jawline.
“Lorelai?” His raspy voice vibrates through my body, setting me on fire like the last month has disappeared and we’re standing in the cabin with our skin touching. We’re frozen with our eyes locked until reality sinks back in.
“Move, Lai.” I yell at myself internally. I need to handle this meeting appropriately and gain Mrs. Corbyn’s acceptance. I would like the transition I’m planning to go smoothly, and that will be much easier if she trusts my judgement. I’m walking a fine line since we disagree on almost everything.
I take a deep breath, walk over, and extend my hand. “Mr. Carlo, it’s so nice to see you. I’m Ms. Mills.” His hand envelops mine, but his eyes are still scraping over my face like he doesn’t believe what he’s seeing.
I release his hand and wave him to the chair I’d placed for him. He moves slowly but seems to be absorbing the situation now.
I retrieve the prepared folders from my desk and perch on the edge of the chair across from him.
“Mr. Carlo, I want to say first that I appreciate the time you’re taking out of your day to visit with me. I know you must have a busy schedule. That you’re here tells me you want to work with us to ensure your daughter receives the best care and education we can provide.
“Also, I need to tell you this meeting is being recorded and will be reviewed by our owner for anything additional that needs to be expressed.”
He nods, so I continue with my prepared speech highlighting Emilie’s strengths. I walk him through the artwork and classwork I’d pulled specifically to showcase those strengths. “You’ve raised quite a little warrior, Mr. Carlo, and these qualities will propel her forward in her academic career.”
I need your help to allow us to continue to do our job of protecting and guiding our students.”
I see he’s following, so I continue. I explain that although I can’t disclose or discuss the actions of the other students, I have thoroughly reviewed the last two months of camera footage in Emilie’s classroom. I describe the increasingly violent methods she’s employed to settle her own concerns.
“What we need, Mr. Carlo, is for you to encourage Emilie to give us a chance to do our job appropriately. I had no opportunity to intervene because I wasn’t informed there was a problem. The initial incidents were done in a sly manner, so only Emilie’s actions were visible to her teacher. We’re aware now, and we’re acting accordingly.” I pause to let the information settle.
“What are your thoughts?” I ask.
James seems to struggle with his words a little. “I... I don’t want my daughter to be a tattler. I want her to solve her own problems.”
“I agree.” He looks surprised at that.
“If you would give Emilie permission to consult with us on the best way to handle a situation, we can give her better methods to implement. In turn, she will learn to work as a team, evaluate and accept suggestions, and feel more in control of her personal environment. Are you able to do that for us, Mr. Carlo?”
He gives a curt nod. It seems he wants to say more but decides against it.
"Great. Can I walk you out?”
We both rise and he follows me to the front door. I hold it open for him to exit. He stops and turns to me. ”When—” He shakes his head. "How —”
I make a point of looking in the direction of the camera above the door. “Please let me know how that conversation goes with Emilie, Mr. Carlo. I’ll certainly keep you apprised of the situation. My card is in the folder. It has my email address and direct line.”
Once his truck pulls away, I let myself sag against the column next to me. My knees are weak, and my hands are shaking. Thankfully, I’d practiced that encounter fifty times in front of my mirror or I might’ve lost it.
I’ve assumed there would be a time I’d run into James, but it always feels like a distant future. He had seemed to have difficulty facing me after we were intimate. Even though we’d eased past that, I was sure he wouldn’t necessarily be happy to find me in his town. I need to reassure him I’m not here to pick up where we left off. My brain fills in the end of that sentence with, "unless he wants to."
After putting the furniture back to its original position, I type a very professional email outlining our discussion and address it to his email on file. I hesitate, but I add my cell number to my signature block and schedule it to be sent out an hour and half before we close.
He did seem like he had questions. I hope he’ll see the number and reach out. I’ve been touching myself to the memory of him most nights, and if there’s a chance of getting the real thing, I’ll take it.
