Once and Future Wife

by David Burnett

  Several hands shot into the air, and she answered questions for about fifteen minutes.

  James returned, and Jennie passed out the tests. It was nine o’clock, and she generally allowed forty minutes.

  At nine thirty, Kara knocked on the door. Seeing the students were busy, she motioned for Jennie to come to her.

  “You were five dollars short on the money for the Christmas paper. It should have been five hundred twenty-five dollars, the amount you wrote on the envelope, but there were only five hundred twenty.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, Jennie. Two of us counted the money.”

  “But Deborah and I counted it three times…”

  “We checked the total twice.”

  “Actually, Deborah counted it the third time, while you and I were talking.” Jennie wheeled about. “Deborah. James. In the hall.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Deborah jumped from her chair, took her paper to Jennie’s desk, and then hurried to the door.

  James hesitated. “Ms. Bateman, I haven’t finished my test and I’ll get a bad grade…”

  James was one of her best students and Jennie knew grades were important to him, but his grade suddenly seemed rather unimportant to her. One of them had taken the money. No student had ever stolen from her before, and Jennie could feel herself becoming angry, her muscles tensing, and her breathing becoming shallow.

  “Turn in your paper. Now,” she ordered when he didn’t move. “In the hall.”

  There definitely had been five hundred twenty-five dollars on her desk when she had gone to speak to Kara. She would find out which one was a thief.

  “Kara, can you watch the class for me? They’re taking a test. Give them another ten minutes.”

  She motioned for Deborah and James to follow her out of the classroom and she closed the door behind them. She stood over them, her hands on her hips. “Five dollars is missing from the wrapping paper money. Do either of you want to tell me what happened to it?”

  Neither student spoke. Deborah’s eyes were wide. James looked at his shoes.

  “There were five hundred twenty-five dollars when I was called away. Only five hundred twenty made it to the office. Which one of you took five dollars?”

  “I…I didn’t take it, Ms. Bateman. I counted it again, like you said. There were five hundred twenty-five dollars. I left it all on your desk.” Deborah’s voice cracked and she looked like she was going to cry.

  “James?”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t open the envelope, Ms. Bateman. I don’t know how much was in it.” A tear slid down his face.

  Jennie slammed her hand against the wall. “One of you is lying to me,” she screamed, her voice echoing in the long, empty hall. Doors opened as teachers peered out. Janice Dorn, one of the other third-grade teachers, stepped into the hall.

  “Ms. Bateman, can I help?”

  “I’ve got this.” She turned back to Deborah and James. “Tell me now and we can talk about it. Otherwise I’ll let the Ms. Watkins deal with you.” Jennie knew a threat of a trip to see the principal was enough to frighten any student. Wildly exaggerated reports of what took place in her office circulated widely among the students.

  “Last chance.”

  Neither child spoke.

  James was more likely the guilty one, Jennie decided. He’d been alone with the money. More opportunity. Less chance of being discovered.

  “Deborah, return to your seat.”

  As the child dashed back into the room, slamming the door behind her, Jennie grabbed James’s shoulders and shook him. “Tell me what you did.”

  “Ms. Bateman…” Janice Dorn began.

  “I told you I’ve got this,” Jennie snapped. She turned back to James. “Well?”

  “I didn’t take the money,” he wailed.

  “Turn your pockets out.”

  James’s hands were shaking and tears ran down is face.

  “I didn’t do it,” he cried.

  “Jennie…” Janice put a hand on Jennie’s shoulder, but she shrugged it off.

  “All right, let’s go. Ms. Watkins will call your mothers, and then she’ll…” She grabbed James’s arm, lifting him so his feet barely touched the floor, and started down the hall, dragging the little boy behind her.

  “Ms. Bateman? Ms. Bateman?” She stopped when she heard Kara’s voice. “Here’s the money.” Kara held up a five-dollar bill. “We found it in the trash can beside your desk. It must have slipped off and fallen in.”

  Jennie stared at Kara, all of the tension draining from her body, her anger gone, instantly. She looked down at James, standing beside her, crying.

  “James, why don’t you come with me?” Kara held out her hand. “We’ll find something for you to drink. Ms. Dorn,” she looked at the other teacher, “can you watch Ms. Bateman’s class for a few minutes while she goes to the teacher’s workroom?”

  Without waiting for a reply, Kara took James’s hand and whisked him away.

  “Jennie, are you all right?” Concern showed on Janice’s face.

  “I’ll…I’ll be fine…Just a minute…”

  “Your class will be fine. Go sit down.”

  Jennie hesitated.

  “Go on. It’s all right.”

  Jennie slunk down the hall and sank into a chair in the workroom. She stared through the window at the massive oak tree, its leaves just beginning to turn color. She remembered climbing that tree when she was a child. It had been against the rules, but the students competed to see how quickly they could shimmy to the top and back without getting caught. Jennie’s record had stood for four years.

  What just happened?

  She had totally lost it, that’s what…just as she had in the past.

  But that wasn’t fair. The extra students, the additional work, the gravel on the weekends, she was just stressed out. Besides, the money had been missing.

  “No,” she said loudly. “I was right to be angry. I’ve been angry before. I know how to cope with anger. I just…forgot.” She took a deep breath. “I must remember…I’m not sick…I simply forgot.”

  ***

  That afternoon, Jennie knocked at the door of the principal’s office.

  “Ms. Watkins, Kara said you wanted to talk with me.” Jennie’s hand was shaking.

  “Jennie, come in,” Ms. Watkins smiled. “Sit down.”

  Jennie settled on one of the chairs across the desk.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Ms. Watkins knew Jennie’s history. She had offered her a job ten years earlier, even though no other principal had been willing to take a chance on her.

  “I’m fine, Ms. Watkins. Just fine…I’ve never had a student steal from me, and…and I was angry this morning. I overreacted.”

  “So I heard.”

  “James never came back to class.”

  “He was quite upset. I thought it best if his mother takes him home.”

  Jennie nodded. “I’m sorry…I apologized to Deborah. In front of the class.” She shook her head sadly.

  “I think children seldom see adults say they are sorry…It took a big person to do that.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Are you doing all right, Jennie? Having problems again?”

  Jennie shook her head. “I know how to handle anger. I just…didn’t. It won’t happen again.”

  Birthday Present

  “Long distance relationships are for the birds,” Jennie told herself as she turned off the interstate and headed toward Thomas’s house.

  She had read about a couple, both CEOs of nationally known companies, who dated while living across the country from each other. One flew from New York to Los Angeles one weekend, the other flew in the other direction the next. She had thought it insane, but her drive from Whitesburg to Charleston was almost as long as that couple’s flights.

  She and Thomas had been “dating” since May, she supposed. Granted, his response when she had told him that she had meant the words he’d
heard her mumbling in her sleep, was not overly enthusiastic, but he had begun to call her regularly, he had invited her to Charleston, and he had stayed at her house in Whitesburg several times. In her mind, they were making progress, but the journey from “getting to know you again” to “married once more” seemed more like a cross-country trek on foot than a flight on a wide-body jet.

  Oh well. One foot after the other.

  It was ten o’clock on Friday night and she’d been driving for over six hours, counting the stop for supper. She’d pulled into the drive-thru lane at a fast food restaurant, ordered her burger and fries, and waited while they cooked her food. From where she sat in her car, she could see the teenaged boy flipping her hamburger, and she’d heard the woman pour the fries from the frying basket into the serving bin.

  “If I was going to insist it be cooked just for me, I’d have found a real restaurant,” she had growled. At least the food was warm.

  Now, all she wanted was a warm bath, a soft bed, and nine hours of sleep.

  I don’t know why I had to drive this weekend, Jennie thought. It’s no farther for him and he can leave a lot earlier than I can. If he had come to Whitesburg, we both would be asleep by now.

  She took a deep breath. She shouldn’t be angry. Thomas drove to Whitesburg much more often than she came to Charleston. He had Louisa too, and Jennie knew she didn’t enjoy those trips.

  She slowed as she turned onto Church Street and began to bump across the pavement. She spotted Cecelia Cross sitting by her living room window, reading. She looked up as Jennie passed, but turned away, apparently not recognizing her car. Jennie was certain she would have reacted differently had she known who was driving down the street.

  None of the older girls were at home this weekend, and Jennie had asked Thomas what the neighbors would think if they knew she was staying at his house “unchaperoned” by the girls. He had responded that he could not control what other people thought, and, beyond that, he really didn’t care. He had not seen her in over a month and he didn’t want to stash her at some hotel across the river just to prevent gossip.

  She had called Thomas when she reached Charleston, and when she arrived he had opened the gate and was standing on the porch. As she stepped out of her car, he caught her in a hug and kissed her.

  Jennie had not expected such a welcome and she stumbled backwards, saving herself from falling by wrapping her arms around his neck as she returned his kiss.

  “That’s a terrible drive, isn’t it? You must be exhausted.”

  “It is a long trip, but I’m much better now.” She smiled at him. “Another kiss and I might be up for hours.”

  He kissed her again.

  “Let me take your luggage.” He fished her roller bag from the trunk and started into the house, turning around as he passed through the entry. “So, where do you want to sleep this weekend?”

  “Well, since you ask it like that,” she smirked, “I’d like the large room on the second floor.”

  “Sorry, that room is taken.” Thomas winked at her. “Permanent resident.”

  “I’m not picky. I’m willing to share.” She squeezed his arm. “I can make it worth the trouble.”

  He laughed. “Amy’s room on the second floor or either one on the third.”

  Jennie pretended to pout. “I didn’t hear a disclaimer when you asked my preference.”

  “I’ve never been offered the large bedroom in Whitesburg.”

  “You’re welcome anytime, Doctor Lindsay. Anytime at all.”

  They both laughed.

  Without waiting for her to choose, Thomas put her bag in Amy’s room, down the hall from his.

  Not upstairs on the third floor this time, Jennie noted with a smile.

  “Come on down when you’re ready. I have chocolate cake for a snack.”

  “Five minutes.”

  Thirty minutes later they had finished the cake and had snuggled on the sofa in the family room, watching Sleepless in Seattle. It had been her pick. It was one of her favorites, and Thomas had never seen it before. Jennie had, several times, though any excuse to sit next to Thomas was a welcome idea. Since she was a little tired anyway, this way she could just relax and not worry about following the plot. She knew it almost by heart.

  As the movie ended, though, Thomas shook her gently. She must have dozed off.

  “I would ask if you’d enjoyed the movie, but you fell asleep halfway through,” he said as her eyes crept open. “And it’s your favorite. ‘So romantic. Best movie ever,’ you said. And the best-looking guy in Charleston was sitting beside you, holding your hand, ready to…”

  “Ready to what?” Jennie rubbed her eyes.

  “We’ll never know, now, will we?” Thomas shrugged. “Although, I thought I was going to have to carry you to bed again. Not sure how I would have navigated the stairs.”

  Jennie stretched and yawned. “I’m sorry. I’ve been waking up early lately, so I know I’ll be awake and ready to go in a couple of hours again, but I simply have to go to bed.” She kissed him. “I promise I’ll be more fun tomorrow.”

  “Promise? I’ve never known Jennie Bateman to flake out on a party.”

  “Is this a party?” She stifled another yawn.

  “Could have been.”

  “I tell you, when I’m awake at four o’clock, I’ll come get you and then we can party.”

  “Wake me at four and you die.” Thomas hugged her. “See you in the morning.”

  Jennie paused at the foot of the stairs, deciding if she had the energy to climb them.

  “Do you need help?”

  Jennie shook her head. “I’m fine. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  ***

  I was tired. Jennie looked at the clock on the table beside her bed. It was two thirty. Only three and a half hours. Record for the month.

  She stretched and stared at the ceiling. She toyed with the idea of creeping down the hall and crawling into bed with Thomas. She had threatened to wake him, and she imagined that tickling him awake would be fun.

  He had done exactly that to her once, years ago of course, when they were first married and he had been in school. He’d had a paper due the next day and he hadn’t finished it. Not to his satisfaction anyway. She had read the paper and had thought it was wonderful.

  In any case, he had stayed up making revisions. Jennie had tried to be supportive, sitting beside him and reading until midnight, but at that point she had thrown in the towel.

  She had been awakened three hours later. Her right side was especially sensitive, and all Thomas had to do was touch it and she emitted peals of laughter. She had screeched loud enough to be heard a block away, she’d thought, and then, since they were both awake…

  She smiled.

  If I were to wake him now, I wonder if it would end in the same way. She smiled at the thought, then she sighed. Probably not, but it won’t be long.

  Marriage had come up in their conversations. Not directly, not in the sense of “Will you marry me,” but in “You might be able to find a job at Porter,” the school the girls had attended, and “You’d love living in Charleston.” Even though Thomas was not directly asking her to marry him, Jennie hoped she would be wearing a ring when she returned to school after Christmas break.

  The engagement, she had decided, would not be a drawn-out affair. She was not looking for a large wedding or a lavish reception. Thomas and her, the girls as witnesses, and a priest, that’s all she needed. She’d finish the school year in Carrolton, and she’d be home with Thomas by the first of June. It was a lovely thought.

  After an hour she slipped out of bed. Instead of pouncing on Thomas, she crept down the stairs, brewed a cup of tea, and curled up on the sofa to read. At seven, she heard Louisa cooing, and she hurried to the nursery, scooping the baby up in her arms and carrying her downstairs before she awakened Thomas.

  Forty minutes later, when he reached the bottom of the steps, Louisa was in her highchair, her bowl of fruit and her
milk cup empty on the tray. Bacon was frying, the Keurig was ready to start, and the eggs and toast would cook as soon as the bacon was brown. Jennie sat in front of the baby, singing “This Old Man,” a spoon of yogurt poised to slide into the baby’s mouth when she finally decided to open it.

  Thomas smiled. “For a moment, I thought I was in our garage apartment in Atlanta and you were fussing over Alexis. You always let me sleep a little late on Saturday.” He crossed the room and started the coffee. “I could get used to waking up to the smell of bacon.” He kissed her. “And to a good morning kiss.”

  “I always cooked your breakfast.” She handed him the spoon while she checked the bacon before transferring it to a paper towel to drain. “And you always had a good morning kiss.”

  A few minutes later they sat down to eat while Louisa scrambled about on a blanket, chasing Minnie Mouse as she crawled across the floor.

  “I need to run over to the college for a few minutes in a little while. Will you be able to look after Louisa, or do I need to take her with me?”

  “Of course I’ll look after her.” Jennie went to Louisa and pulled the toy from where it had gotten wedged beside the sofa and wiggled before tossing it a short distance away, encouraging the baby to crawl for it. “I haven’t had her alone in a long time. It will be fun.”

  About eleven Thomas got ready to leave. “I’ll bring lunch when I return. We’re going out for your birthday tonight, remember. I’ve a student coming over to babysit.”

  After he left, Jennie cleaned up from breakfast and then pulled out the stroller to take Louisa for a walk. It was certainly more substantial than the umbrella strollers she had used when Alexis and Christa were little. She and Thomas had been talking once about the differences between caring for a baby now and doing it twenty years earlier. The stroller had been her example of how things had changed.

  “It’s so heavy,” she had told him. “I can hardly lift it into the trunk of the car. It’s so well built though, I don’t think the baby would be hurt if it slipped away from me and crashed at the bottom of a hill.”