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Good lord. Had she really done something that bad, that the whole school would get shut down? Tears sprang to her eyes. She’d never seen people around here act like this. Their hostile glares felt like daggers being thrown at her. All her brave words about fighting for her job seemed stupid now. This wasn’t just about her. It was about the school, the community. If her presence did anything to damage the school and its ability to educate the kids, she couldn’t live with that.
She’d resign. Or withdraw her book, if that would make a difference. But maybe it was too late for that, judging by the angry faces around her. Yes, she’d have to give up her job, for the good of the school.
“Hey!” A deep, familiar voice rang through the hallway.
Galen.
Galen climbed onto a chair and waved his arms at the crowd to get them to quiet down. He still hadn’t combed his hair since he’d burst through her door, so he looked as wild as ever. “What the hell is this? What is wrong with you people?”
The crowd didn’t exactly go silent—there were still angry mutters—but the noise level went down a notch.
“You all know me, I’m Galen Cooper, and I’ve loved this town ever since I came here at fifteen. Remember that? Me and my brothers? Three kids with no parents?”
Now they started to quiet—as if story time had begun, thought Brenda. She held her breath, wondering what Galen could possibly say to make a difference.
“We were city kids with no idea how to do things like hook up a propane tank.”
A murmur of laughter from the crowd.
“But we survived. And it was because of you.” He pointed to the gathered residents. “Because of this community. People here took care of us. They didn’t reject us because we were different, or because we had no parents, or because we were poor. They didn’t judge us. They helped us. You helped us. With open arms.”
The crowd shuffled their feet. Galen had their attention. Brenda’s heart raced and she put a hand to her throat.
“Where are those open arms now? How about some open minds? Brenda has given back to this community every day since she got here. She could be anywhere, doing anything, but she’s here teaching kids who love her and we’re lucky she’s here. What she needs from you is little damn open-mindedness. Is that too much to fucking ask?”
He caught a couple gasps from the crowd.
“Yeah, my language is salty sometimes. So the fuck what? I’d never hurt anyone here and you know it. Neither would Brenda. What does it matter what she does outside of school? She’s a great teacher and a kind soul. Stop acting like a bunch of puritanical babies.” He directed a stern frown around the crowd, then stopped short. “Hold on. How many people here even live in Lake Bittersweet? You.” He pointed at someone. “You aren’t from here, are you?”
“Braddock, but that’s not the point,” the man said aggressively.
“Yeah it is. You don’t live here. Mind your own business.” He caught someone else’s eye. “Burton, you live here. What are you doing here, pestering the school? You’re retired. Shouldn’t you be in your woodworking shop enjoying your golden years?”
“Sure, Galen, and I respect you and all, but I got to stand up for our way of life.”
“Our way of...” Galen just goggled at him, as if he could barely believe what he was hearing. “I thought handcrafting toys next to a cooler of beer was your way of life. What does Brenda and her book have to do with that? Have you even read it?”
Burton turned beet red, and stammered out a non-answer that got interrupted by Granny pulling at Galen’s sleeve and hollering, “Get me up there. I have something to say.”
Galen hopped down from the chair and lifted Granny up to take his place. She twitched her skirt into place, making sure she was decent. Then patted her white hair back to its proper shape.
Next to Brenda, Laney murmured a prayer under her breath. “Don’t let her embarrass me, dear lord. I won’t ask for anything else, ever again.”
Brenda felt a bubble of hysterical laughter swell from her heart. If she was going out, at least it would be in a blaze of absurdity.
Then Galen was coming toward her, fire still in his eyes. She opened her arms and stepped into his, two sparks joining above a fire.
“I love you,” she sobbed into his neck. “Forget that stupid letter. That was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. I panicked, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I love you so much. All I want is to be with you.”
“I love you too.” The words whispered into her ear traveled right to her soul. “From the moment I saw you walking into this very building.”
The sweet rush of joy nearly obliterated everything else going on. His warm solid body against hers, the familiar scent of pine sap and fresh forest air, the brush of his beard against her cheek—it was everything she wanted and needed. And she’d nearly lost it.
Never again, she vowed. Never again would she let her fears or anyone else’s keep her from truth and love. Without those things, what did anything matter?
Her grandmother’s voice caught her attention. In the thrill of the moment, she’d nearly forgotten that Granny had commandeered the chair and was now addressing the crowd. Story time was continuing.
“For whoever doesn’t know me, I’m Cecilia McMurray and I was born here in Lake Bittersweet, in the kitchen of my grandparents’ house, one of the first two-story houses ever built around here. I go way back in this town and I have an excellent memory. From when I was young, I kept a journal. Every couple years I read some of that journal so I can remember how things used to be. That’s what the kids call receipts these days.”
