by Amelia Star
“Sounds idyllic. So, what needs to be fixed up about it?”
“Well, there’s an old shed in the back that I’ve always wanted to clean out and make into a studio. I just haven’t found the time, between painting house interiors and doing murals.”
We arrive at the coat-check room and hand our tickets to the clerk, who hands our jackets back to us. Then I take her hand again, and we go on through the high-ceilinged entryway out the front doors.
Outside, it’s crisp and cool, with a slight breeze. But the sun is shining brightly, and the terraces and fountains stretch out invitingly in front of the museum. Before us, the brilliant colors of autumn leaves spread out. “Want to go for a walk?” I ask.
“You read my mind,” she says.
We pass couples and families as we follow the path down the hill. Then near the long pool with all its spouting fountains, we come across a sidewalk artist doing caricature drawings of people. We stop and watch the artist work, how his hand moves swiftly over the paper, bringing to life the person sitting before him in a new and amusing light.
When he’s finished, the little girl he’s drawing stands up to see what he made of her.
“Oh, wow! I’m a princess, Mommy. See!” The little girl is so happy and excited. She reminds me of my daughter, and I wish she could be here now. But things didn’t work out as I’d hoped when I married my high school sweetheart at the age of nineteen. Almost ten years later, my life is completely different from the one I expected to have now. But I haven’t given up on believing it can keep getting even better.
“Next?” The artist calls.
Alicia shouts back, “We’ll go!” and, pulling me along in her wake, she steps to the front of the crowd, not a shy bone in her body.
The artist looks up at us. “A loving couple, ready for the altar.” He laughs boisterously, and the others stand about, curious to see what will happen next.
Alicia steps back then and says, “Well, actually, we’re on our first date.”
The artist is thrilled. “All the better—there’s nothing like new love. So, tell me more about yourselves. What are your hobbies? Your passions in life? What makes you special, that will make your portraits special.”
The beautiful woman with me lavishly describes her own passion for art, and the caricaturist nods his head. It seems he’s getting some ideas about what he might be able to do with at least half of our drawing.
Then the artist turns to me. “And what about you? What are the things that make life worth living for you?”
“Well, I’m a chemistry teacher and a football coach,” I tell him.
“I could have told you that. You’ve got teacher and coach written all over your face. But what do you do for fun, besides work?”
I look at Alicia, then I look back at the street artist. And I suddenly realize that my life is all about my work. I mean, it’s not like I haven’t been told that before by my colleagues when they invite me to join them for some of their activities outside of school. But I’m always either working on lesson plans or on the field with my team.
And sometimes, well, there are some team players who just need me for help they can’t get anywhere else. Life for a teenager in high school these days isn’t the way it was when I was growing up. I need to be ready for my students and team when they need me.
“Well, that’s about it,” I say.
“That’s fine, that’s fine.” The artist says, and indicates the seats for us to take.
Alicia and I sit close to each other, holding hands, and while the artist works, all I can think is how my life is passing by. If I’m not careful, my job will be all I have to look back on if I don’t go after my heart’s desire.
When the artist finishes our drawing, we pay for our caricature and thank him, then walk along the path around the pool some more. Alicia holds our caricature up to the light, and we take a closer look at it.
“Is it just me, or do we look a little stiff in the picture?” I ask, feeling a bit disappointed in the results.
“Well, that artist doesn’t know the real you,” Alicia responds, handing the caricature to me. Yellow leaves fall from the oak trees running alongside the pool, and some are already dry on the sidewalk and crackle beneath our shoes.
We walk a little farther, to a large oak tree off the path where we sit on a bench, and I think of an idea. “I know it may sound rather quaint, but would you like to come to a high school football game Friday night, Alicia? Afterward, there will be a barbeque at my house, which I usually throw for the team, the cheerleaders, and my chemistry students. You could see what my life is like, if you’re interested.”
“Ted, that sound fun. I always loved rooting for our team when I was in school. How about if I invite Ted and Hailey, that way I’ll have someone to sit with while you’re coaching the game.”
“That’s a great idea. And they can come to the barbeque also, of course. I hope you’ll enjoy it.” I squeeze her hand, excited about having her get a closer look at what I do. Then I turn and look at her in the bright autumn light, fallen leaves whisking across the ground. “You look so much more beautiful than the picture drawn by the artist. You look like an angel.”
“And you look so much more handsome then your picture.” We watch the people walk around the pond, and stop at the artist’s stand for more caricatures.
Soon, Alicia tilts her head up to the sun, closing her eyes. “It’s a beautiful day.” She breathes in deeply.
I touch her chin, and tilt her face up to mine, then press my lips to hers softly. She responds with a gentle pressure, and it feels like the world is just beginning, like a new work of art is being created in my heart.
THREE – ALICIA
“Look at all this food!” I exclaim when I see the feast spread across a few picnic tables in Micah’s backyard where the football players, cheerleaders, and his chemistry students are lined up waiting to serve themselves. Music the young crowd chose is playing loud enough so that you would know there’s a party, but not too loud to bother the neighbors.
“Looks like what a winning team needs after the game they just played,” Ted comments and takes a drink of his soda.
“You really do this every Friday?” Hailey asks Micah, pushing her long black hair back over her shoulder. We’re standing around him at his gas grill while he barbeques everything from hotdogs and hamburgers to zucchini and potatoes.
“Every Friday that we have a home game. Students, players, and cheerleaders sign up to bring the salads and desserts, which some of their parents make for them. And after my first year of doing this, the school realized how this is a great after-game activity and started providing a bit of funding for me. We have a super time, and it really gives me a chance to connect with the kids on a more individual level.”
While Micah describes what he’s doing for his players and the cheerleaders, I can’t stop thinking about what a great coach and teacher he must be. It’s obvious he really cares about his students, and to see them interacting is wonderful. He seems to understand what they’re going through. Everyone’s having a fantastic time.
Now I understand why, when the street artist asked him about his hobbies, he couldn’t think of anything but his work. Teaching and coaching are clearly more than a job for Micah, they’re a way of life. Still, I wonder if this way of life will leave any room for me.
“That’s really great that you can do so much for your team and the students.” Ted pats Micah on the back then takes his wife’s pale hand, asking her, “How about if we go on and sample some of the food?”
“Definitely. It’s always refreshing to have a night away from the restaurant and sample someone else’s cooking.”
Hailey and Ted wander across the lawn, laughing and chatting with some of the students on their way to get in line.
This leaves Micah and me alone for the first time all night.
“So, what will it be for my favorite guest here tonight?” Micah asks. He looks at me with his in
tense gaze, as if studying my face for signs that I am happy.
I smile and ask, “What would you recommend?”
“Well, for you, I can make one of my special avocado and cheese burgers. Would you like that?” The expression on his face is so hopeful.
“That sounds fabulous,” I reply.
As he flips the burgers and turns the hotdogs and veggies on the grill, Micah looks at me and says, “Sorry we haven’t had much time together alone so far tonight.”
“I’m glad you invited me, and that Hailey and Ted could come along. The game was really something—I hadn’t been to a live sports event in years. You should have seen us cheering you on in the stands.”
“I’m sure that’s what helped us win.” Micah takes a burger that has the cheese already melted on it and puts it on a plate, arranges slices of avocado on top, and hands it to me. “For the most special guest in my heart, who by the way looks perfectly stunning tonight.”
“Thanks,” I reply and take the plate. I’m considering going ahead to get in line by myself, but Micah calls over one of his football players.
“Jim, could you man the grill for me while I show my friend around for a bit?”
A big, brawny young man nods and steps over to the grill in a few strides. “Sure thing, Coach. Anything you need. But when you have a minute, could I talk to you sometime? It’s about what I was telling you the other day…. It shouldn’t take but a few minutes.”
“Well,” Micah replies, “maybe I should just talk to you now about it, before the time gets away.” Micah looks at me, to make sure that it’s okay.
I’m not going to disagree with him, of course. I can see he’s in his responsible teacher mode, and I can just hang out with Hailey and Ted until he’s finished. So I nod, and head over to the line for some sides to go with my burger.
While in line, I notice my friends and wave to them at the picnic table where they’re sitting.
Then, a student standing behind me in line taps me on the shoulder.
I turn around and see the sweetest young lady. Though she’s wearing jeans and a sweater, I recognize her from the game when she was in her cheerleader uniform, leading the crowd to cheer the team on to victory.
“Miss—?” she asks, warily.
“Hi,” I respond. “I’m Alicia.”
“Oh, Alicia. You’re Mr. Ford’s friend, right?”
“Yes, that’s right.” We’re filling our plates with all sorts of scrumptious-looking foods.
“I’m Theresa,” says the cheerleader. “Somebody told me you’re an artist?”
“Wow, news travels fast around here.” I laugh a little, understanding that the students are probably very curious about the friends of their teacher and coach—and they’re probably especially curious about me, since I’m the single woman he’s invited to join his party this evening.
“Well, we’ve never seen Mr. Ford with a date before,” Theresa admits, arching her eyebrow curiously. “And when I heard you were an artist, I was really interested in talking to you. I also want to be an artist someday.” We’ve finished going through the line, and we’re standing holding our plates.
“Oh, really?” I ask. Theresa follows me to the table and we take a seat across from Hailey and Ted. Pretty soon, Theresa’s football player boyfriend joins us. Come to find out, he’s also an aspiring artist.
The meal goes by quickly, talking with my new friends about their hopes and dreams, and answering their questions about the realities of how to make it as an artist in the world. Every so often, I glance over at Micah to see him still standing over the grill with Jim. Something pretty serious must be going on with this young man, so I’m not going to interrupt them while they’re talking.
Still, I’m a little disappointed about how the evening is ending up. I knew I wouldn’t be able to spend time with Micah during the game, but I was sure we’d be together during the barbeque tonight. Maybe he’s not as interested in me as I thought—maybe his work really is his whole life, and he just doesn’t have the time for me.
It’s getting pretty late, and most of the students have said their goodnights and taken their empty side-dishes and dessert trays home. Jim is working on cleaning up the grill for Micah, who finally makes his way over to sit down next to me.
“We had a great time,” Ted says, tilting his soda can to check if it’s empty.
“Everything was delicious,” Hailey states.
Micah sighs, “I’m really sorry I didn’t get to spend more time with all of you. But I hope you’ll come back again.”
“We could tell something pretty important was going on with your player,” I state flatly.
Hailey stacks our empty paper plates on top of each other, and adds, “Yes, it’s great you can be there for your kids.”
“Well, next time I’ll be here with my friends—promise,” Micah insists.
I’m not sure if Hailey and Ted believe him any more than I do, though.
We stand up and give hugs and handshakes goodnight to Hailey and Ted.
Then it’s just me and Micah, and a few students left in the backyard.
“I hope you’ll give me another chance.” Micah takes my hands, and gazes deeply into my eyes.
His actions surprise me. I didn’t think he’d want any students seeing him expressing himself so openly towards me. So I surprise myself also and say, “Sure. You’ve got one more chance. But you’d better make it something really good.”
FOUR – MICAH
“How do you like it?” I ask. I convinced Alicia to order my favorite at Margo’s Steakhouse, the lambchops with pumpkin soup and house salad. We’d talked about going to Ted and Hailey’s restaurant, then decided it was time for us to get away and be entirely on our own for an evening—no students, no friends—just the two of us.
“Oh my gosh—it’s amazing. But I just don’t know if I can finish it. There’s so much!”
“You just got started. Take it slow, we’re in no rush to get out of here,” I let her know. But I notice her eye has been caught by something behind me, and I turn around to see what she is looking at—a couple approaching us from the bar.
“I don’t even believe this,” Alicia says in a low tone. “It’s my mom and step-dad.”
Uncertain what the relationship is like between Alicia and her parents, I watch my date carefully for cues as to how to proceed.
“Mom, Harris, what a coincidence seeing you here tonight.” Alicia stands and they exchange hugs and kisses. She doesn’t seem terribly happy about the chance meeting as she introduces me. “This is Micah, a friend from the Rosewood Community Center.”
I shake hands with her mom and step-dad. “Great to meet you. Would you like to have a glass of wine with us?” I venture to ask.
“Oh, we don’t want to interrupt your meal,” Harris says with a thick southern drawl. He’s a big man, in dress slacks and a western-style shirt.
“No, we don’t want to bother you, dear.” Alicia’s mother speaks while looking around the restaurant, as if there might be something more important that she’ll notice elsewhere while she talks. Wearing an elegant silk dress and heals, her style is very different from her daughter’s simple, casual lines.
“It’s no bother, Mom, really.” Alicia attempts to get her mom to stay. But it’s not happening.
“Really, sweetheart, I just saw you as we were on our way out and thought I’d stop by to let you know—I won’t be able to make it tomorrow as we planned. I was going to call, but well, here we are, so I thought I should tell you now.” She starts rummaging through her small purse, ever distracted, and pulls out her phone. “Should we schedule another time? I know you really wanted to go finish your project and you need someone to help carry all your supplies.”
While Alicia’s mother talks, Harris puts a toothpick in his mouth and just lets her go on, unconcerned with what’s happening.
Alicia looks so disappointed, and the situation seems pretty clear to me. I’m starting to understand
why Alicia has felt so let down by me so far. It looks like this pattern started with her mother—but I’m not going to let it keep repeating, so I step up. “What’s this project you want to work on tomorrow, Alicia? Maybe I can help out?”
Alicia’s face shifts dramatically—she lights up like a sunny day and says, “Oh, Micah, could you really help? It’s just an art project I’ve been working on. I’ll tell you more about it while we finish our dinner.”
“Well, look at that,” Harris drawls out in his southern tones. “Problem solved. Should we get heading out now, darling?”
Alicia’s mother looks up from her phone. “Oh, of course, Harris. The Bridgestones are expecting us any minute.” Then she turns to her daughter, momentarily remembering Alicia is there. “Have fun with your little project tomorrow, sweetheart.” And with a kiss on the cheek, she disappears into the coatroom with her husband, and Alicia and I are alone again.
Alicia is silent a moment, then she leans back in her chair and exhales. “Wow. That’s the last thing I was expecting.”
“That’s the impression I got.” I take a sip of my wine and ask, “I hope their little visit didn’t ruin your appetite.”
Alicia laughs, as if to clean the slate of what just happened. “Are you kidding? Nothing could ruin my appetite for this incredible meal. I’m just sorry you had to be drawn into my family drama.”
“Family drama? We’ve all got a little of that to go around.” I pick up my knife and fork and start working on my T-bone again. “But that doesn’t mean it stops hurting.”
Alicia shakes her head. Picking up a forkful of lambchop, she looks at it then sets it down on her plate a moment. “It’s true.”
“You want to talk about it?” I ask. Her big, light-brown eyes go slightly wide, and I want to reach out and give her a hug. I can tell that something just happened here that’s upset her, but if she doesn’t want to talk about it, I’ll understand.
Taking a long, slow breath, she sighs and says, “Well, it’s an ordinary sort of story, really. My parents divorced when I was nine—and my dad just kind of disappeared. As you may have noticed, my mom has kind of disappeared, even when she’s standing right there in front of you.”