A Message for Julia

A sob ripped from Missy’s throat. Dropping the eraser, Julia hurried to her. Tears cut pale tracks in her too-heavy makeup.

“What’s the matter?” Julia spoke softly, carefully, laying a hand on her student’s arm.

“It’s…it’s all my fault.”

“What’s your fault?”

“The whole mess you’re in. With Ryan.”

Understanding dawned. Julia gently squeezed the arm she held. “It’s okay, Missy.” Obviously talk had gotten around about the reprimand she’d received. Or, at the very least, the tongue-lashing the principal had given her. She’d known last week that news of Ryan’s father’s blowup had been all over the school.

All because she’d cared.

“No, it’s not.” Missy dissolved into tears again. “I didn’t really want him to leave. But…but…”

Julia’s heart ached for the girl. She remembered all too clearly being seventeen and feeling as if the world rested on your every decision.

Despite the warnings against touching students, Julia slipped her arms around Missy’s slim shoulders.

“I teased him.” Missy’s voice wobbled. “He asked me to the prom and I said no.” The last word was more a wail than anything.

“Oh, I’m sure he recovered from that.” Teenagers and dating. It was a minefield, and while Julia wanted to help Missy, she knew better than to venture in too far. Besides, she wasn’t exactly qualified to give advice about love. She hastily put thoughts of her own marriage out of her mind.

“No. I…I told him I didn’t want to date boys. I wanted to go out with a man. But that’s not true. I really like him.”

“Oh, dear.” Julia could imagine the slap in the face those words had been.

“It’s not your fault he left school. It’s mine.” She sobbed into Julia’s collar. “And now you’re in trouble and might lose your job.”

Missy’s guilt seemed all too powerful right then. Julia knew she needed to ease the girl’s tears, though she hoped Missy had learned something from this. Maybe she’d think twice before spouting off hurtful remarks in the future. “I’m not going to lose my job.” Julia wasn’t sure who needed to believe it more, her or Missy.

“You’re not?” Missy pulled back and looked up. “Oh, thank goodness. You’re the best teacher. I’m doing lousy in all my other classes.”

She wasn’t doing that well in this one, either, but Julia left that unsaid. Missy hastily wiped her face. Smudges of black mascara ringed her damp blue eyes.

“To be honest, Missy, I’d do it again.” And she would. “Sometimes you have to fight for the things you care about.”

Missy seemed to consider that. “So, you think I should fight for Ryan?”

“Well…” Julia wasn’t getting sucked in again. She’d already done enough damage by trying to give a kid advice. “That’s up to you. Just think about it.”

“I will. Thanks, Mrs. Holmes. You’re the best.”

Before Julia could say anything more, Missy headed to the door and probably straight to the restroom to fix her makeup. Ah, the resilience of youth.

Julia returned to her desk and sank into her chair, wishing she were as resilient as Missy. She stared at the letter, not really seeing it, not needing to read the words. Despite what she’d told Missy, she could lose her job.

She looked out the window of her classroom. From the third floor, she could see most of Parilton, Pennsylvania, with its clapboard houses and tree-lined streets. The dark silhouette of the Winding Trail Mine sat at the edge of town, mother hen and vulture all in one. Just as it overshadowed the town, it touched every life in Parilton, including hers.

Her husband, Linc, was working up there today, as he’d been, on and off, for several weeks. New equipment going in meant inspection after inspection, all his responsibility. It was another in a long list of things that kept him away from home.

She’d hardly seen him in weeks, it seemed. She missed him, and that knowledge bothered her more than she wanted it to. What was worse was the realization that she had to talk to Linc about the letter. About the whole mess.

She’d finally have to tell him about the job change she’d made last month. She’d meant to tell him about it earlier but had never quite found the right moment. She knew she should have tried harder—waited up when he came in late, woken him before she left in the morning, or found a way to meet for lunch.

But she hadn’t quite figured out what to say, or how to explain it to him. She didn’t even understand it herself. And since they barely spoke these days anyway, keeping silent was just easier.

Until today, she’d thought it was the right decision.

Friday Morning, 5:30 a.m.

THE ALARM CLATTERED at oh-dark-thirty. Julia rolled over and smacked the off button, hoping she’d permanently disabled the thing. She opened one eyelid then slammed it shut again

She did not want to face today.

Linc’s even breathing broke the quiet of the room, and she turned to look at him in the dim morning light. She’d tried to stay awake last night to talk to him, but the long hours and stress had taken their toll. Either she had become so used to Linc coming in late, or he was getting better at being quiet.

Maybe she’d wait until tomorrow, when they were both home and not working, to tell him. After she knew the results of tonight’s meeting. No, that would only make matters worse.

“Hey,” she said softly and waited. No answer. She said it again, louder.

“You say something?” he mumbled.

“Yeah. Are you awake?” She waited for him to wake enough to understand what she was saying. He didn’t stir and she knew she’d lost the battle. Rather than try again, Julia climbed out of bed, throwing the covers aside and silently hoping the cool air would startle him awake.

For a long moment, Julia stared down at the mussed bed and grieved the loss of the days when she’d wake him early for an entirely different purpose. With a sigh, she abandoned those thoughts and headed downstairs to make breakfast. She needed something to do to keep her mind and hands busy.

She threw on her robe, letting it hang open, the belt trailing behind. What was the point of looking presentable when she was alone with no one to appreciate her? She shook her head; she needed coffee to chase away the pity party in her mind.

Bitter caffeine, tempered by sugar and cream, caressed her tongue. She stood at the kitchen window and gazed over the rim of her coffee cup at the house across the street. The neighbors were a young couple. All their windows were still dark. Were they asleep? Or had morning come for them as well and their bed was still cozy and inviting? She closed her eyes…wishing.

Wishing for what?

For those early days of her marriage before every moment was a struggle? The days before they’d started talking about a family?

She heard the footstep an instant before warm, strong arms stole around her waist.

“You were saying something?” Linc’s voice was thick with sleep, but she sighed in relief. He’d heard her. On some level he’d been listening.

“Yeah.”

He waited. She took a deep breath.

“I…I quit my job at the elementary school,” she finally whispered.

Linc went absolutely still against her. Julia wasn’t even sure she felt him breathing.

“What? Why?” He came around to face her. She missed the warmth he’d provided. She looked up at him. He frowned and leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his bare chest. She couldn’t help but drink in the view of the lightly tanned plains and valleys sprinkled with dark hair. The jeans he’d hastily thrown on hung low on his hips.