by Jo Grafford
“Hey, I was a teenager once,” he reminded with a quizzical smile. “It’s not like I’m stepping into completely foreign territory.” He nosed the black Conquest past a stacked stone sign emblazoned with the words Heart Lake High.
They wound their way up the paved road leading to the campus.
We’re here. Hope couldn’t have been more excited about returning to her alma mater. This time, however, she wouldn’t be stepping through its triple set of entrance doors as a student, cheerleader, or homecoming queen. This time she would preside as head principal over the students, academics, and extracurriculars taking place both inside and outside of the rambling white and grey stone building. Talk about checking an item off the old bucket list!
Josh parallel parked in the front circle drive in a spot marked Security. Ahead of his parking spot were two others marked Principal and Assistant Principal. The other nearby spots were simply designated for Staff.
“Just think of all the fun we’ll be having two weeks from now.” Josh leaped down from his seat and strode around the SUV to open her door. This time he simply held out his arm.
Seriously? She rested her hand as gingerly and briefly as she could on his shoulders for support as she stepped down. It took a bit of effort to quell the delicious shiver that worked its way through her at the feel of his steely hands circling her waist. Then she wordlessly stepped around him to survey the place where she’d be spending most of her time for the next nine months.
The first thing that stood out to her was the copper statue of the Pioneers mascot standing in the adjoining courtyard. Many teachers over the years had conducted outdoor class sessions there. For decades, students had decorated the statue during holidays, posed for pictures next to it, and cheered its name at school rallies and sporting events.
“The statue is going to have to come down, I’m afraid,” she noted sadly. “Preferably before the first day of school.” They were getting a late start this year, due to the storm damage and the ensuing logistics of combining two student bodies. If a few final construction projects were completed on time, they would begin the Monday after Labor Day.
Elmer rounded the security vehicle and moved to her side, looking aghast. “The Heart Lake Pioneer has been standing in the same spot for the past fifty years, my dear. It’s an integral part of this place.”
“And now it’s history.” My history. I’m going to miss it, too, when it’s gone. She stepped up to the statue and beckoned for Kellan to take her outstretched cell phone. “I’d like one last picture, please.” She struck a few different poses as he snapped shots. “Go, Pioneers!” she chanted softly.
“Go, Pioneers!” Kellan chanted back, grinning as he returned the camera. “Not that you asked for the opinion of an outsider, but I agree the statue should come down.”
“Thanks.” Without thinking, she glanced in Josh’s direction and found him studying her with a curious mix of approval and admiration. When their gazes locked, however, his expression settled into one of bland indifference, making her wonder if she’d imagined his earlier emotions.
“A word of advice, Hope.” Elmer’s voice was gravelly with concern as he circled the statue. “There’s no need to make too many changes too soon.”
She stared at him, aghast that he didn’t see what was so plain to her. “I think that ship sailed the moment a tornado inhaled the entire south side campus. Don’t you?”
“I hear what you’re saying, but—”
“I know what I’m asking of you isn’t easy, but it’s the right thing to do. You know it is.”
“Sometimes what’s right and what’s practical don’t always line up.” He ruefully patted the shoulder of the Pioneer. “The school board has to consider the needs and wishes of everyone from parents, to donors, to voters, to elected officials.”
“I understand. That’s your job.” She wasn’t trying to be difficult; she was simply being realistic. “Mine, on the other hand, is to consider the students. That’s what you hired me to do, right? If I’m going to combine a student body of over two hundred Pioneers with a student body of a hundred and fifty or so Range Riders, I’m doing to have to strip them of everything that made them arch rivals in the past and help them find some common ground. I think a new mascot would be a huge step in the right direction.”
He looked perplexed. “What in tarnation do you propose we do with the statue, then?”
“I’m still working on it. Give me a sec.” She squinted at the main entrance of the high school. “Is that Sports Hall of Fame still set up in the room adjacent to the front foyer?”
“Yes.”
“We should transform it into a combined north and south side hall of fame. Anything we’re able to salvage from the south side rubble or have donated by south side families will receive approximately half the display space. We’re talking statues, retired jerseys, championship banners, the whole enchilada.”
Elmer let out a huff of consideration. “It’s not a bad idea. I’ll give you that. I’m just not sure how well the board will receive it.”
“They respect you, Elmer. If anyone can sway them on the issue, you can.”
His shoulders relaxed a fraction. “I appreciate your vote of confidence. I do, my dear, but this is no small thing you’re asking.”
“I know, but it’s important. I need you to make it happen.”
With a reluctant nod, he reached for the pen and small pad of paper he always kept in the breast pocket of his suit jacket. “What exactly do you want me to pitch to the board?”
“The retirement of both high school mascots. We’ll hold an assembly on the first day of school and announce an upcoming vote for a new mascot. We’ll give the students whatever guidelines the school board comes up with and set a date for the big unveil of our new mascot.”
“Alright, chief.” He scrawled a few notes before pocketing his notepad. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you, Elmer.”
He unlocked the front doors and led the four of them inside to the main office. She’d never spent much time inside the office, so she wasn’t familiar with the layout. Her office was a spacious area just beyond the reception booth. It boasted old navy blue carpet, mix and match furniture, and a curious hodgepodge of gold frames tacked to its walls.
“Whew!” She pretended to cover her eyes.
“Don’t worry.” Elmer chuckled. “We’ve set aside an allowance for a few upgrades. Just let us know what you want changed, and we’ll make it happen.”
“Bonus.” She spun in a full circle, taking quick inventory of the space. “I’d like the carpet to come up. If there are funds for basic tile or hardwood to match the general decor, that’s great. If not, feel free to slap one of those granite paint finishes over the concrete. I’d also like the gold frames donated to charity, if you think anyone would be interested in such old relics. If not, toss them. Same goes for every stick of furniture in here, other than the desk.” She walked around it and rapped the massive desktop with her knuckles. Though it was heavily nicked and scratched from years of use, it was real wood. She couldn’t wait to join the ranks of the long line of principals who’d sat behind it over the years.
Ed looked amused. “Maybe I wasn’t clear. There’s money to make a few purchases for your office, Hope. All you’ve done so far is earmark the things you want removed.”
She opened the middle desk drawer and was enchanted to discover the signatures of past administrators scrawled across its interior. “That’s all I need, Elmer. Please reallocate the funds to a higher-need project. Our newly combined Sports Hall of Fame, for instance.”
“What about an office chair?” he spluttered.
“I have one coming on the moving truck that’ll work just fine, along with a book shelf, a dry erase board, and my favorite coffee maker.” She broke into a small jig at the thought of being reunited with her most prized possession.
He quirked a puzzled smile at her and scratched a few more notes on his pad of pape
r. “It’s your office.”
She couldn’t help noting that the name plate on the office door next to hers bore the word Security. It looked as if she and Josh Hawling were going to be next-door neighbors. Interesting, but whatever. She couldn’t think of any reasonable arguments against the idea that wouldn’t sound overly personal or petty.
Josh disappeared inside his office while she, Elmer, and Kellan completed their tour of the office. They headed out to the common areas next. They didn’t take the time to walk every room and hallway, just the ones that required her quick input for cleaning, rearranging, and upgrading in preparation for the influx of south side students.
For Hope, it was like walking among ghosts. Her mind continuously replayed encounters with former classmates and teachers. Everywhere she looked, she could conjure some old memory or another. Well, nearly everywhere. There’d been a lot of changes in the past ten years, too. Chalkboards had been replaced with dry erase boards and “smart” overhead projectors that could display interactive visuals, games, and other dynamic content. The wooden desks she and her friends had perched on were gone. In their place were tables with hard plastic chairs.
Elmer received a call toward the end of their tour that ultimately postponed her visit with the school board until the next day. It was fine with her. She was anxious to pay a long overdue visit to her mother.
When they exited the school building, she was surprised to see a gleaming silver Rolls Royce idling at the curb behind Josh’s Conquest. A man in a plain black suit was conferring with Josh. Moments later, he transferred Hope and Kellan’s luggage to the back of the Rolls Royce.
“You rented a car, huh?” Hope wasn’t surprised. Kellan was all about his creature comforts.
“I thought you knew me better than that,” he scoffed. “I don’t do rentals. I purchased it and hired a chauffeur.”
Right. She didn’t possess a billionaire mindset and probably never would. “Looks nice.”
“Hop in, and I’ll drive you to your mother’s place.”
She nodded, wondering if she should invite him to dinner. “Have you made plans for this evening?”
“A few. I’ll need to take care of a few business matters that have been piling up during our travels, plus get settled into my hotel.”
His hotel? Her brows rose, but she didn’t ask any more questions. For all she knew, he’d gone and purchased the hotel, too.
Glancing between them, Josh offered to return Elmer to the district office. He drove off after one final chilly glance in her and Kellan’s direction.
Clara Remington flew from the front door of her elegant townhome the moment Kellan’s chauffeur deposited Hope on the curb.
It was a credit to his impeccable upbringing that he didn’t linger. On the way there, he’d agreed to join them for dinner later in the week for a proper introduction to her mother. But for now, he was encouraging her to spend some quality time with her mother. Alone.
Hope gave him a grateful smile and waved as his chauffeur drove him away.
“Oh, my sweet girl!” Her mother ran down the porch stairs to envelop her in a tight hug. “It’s so good to have you home.” She was wearing one of her favorite ruffled aprons speckled with flour and something else.
Cinnamon, Hope decided after a curious sniff. “It’s good to be here.” It felt right to be back. She’d honestly never intended to stay away this long.
“I still can’t believe you interviewed for a job here.” Her mother’s blue gaze glistened with happy tears. “Do you plan to stay?” There were tiny lines at the edges of her eyes, no doubt brought on by the grief of losing her husband.
Hope’s heart twisted with regret all over again at the fact that she’d been away at college when her father had passed. Poor Mother. She’d had to endure the tremendous loss alone. “Don’t worry. I only plan to stay here until I have the chance to get my own place,” she teased, pretending to misunderstand in the attempt to lighten the tone of their conversation. She was already in the process of renting a townhouse a few streets away, from a widower who was moving to an assisted living facility. However, his home wasn’t officially on the market yet, so she didn’t want to get her mother’s hopes up. It was a situation that Elmer Remington had tipped her off about.
Clara Remington stared at her blankly for a moment. Then she playfully swatted the air. “Oh, please! You know I was referring to your return to Texas, sweet girl. And there’s no need to rush into finding a place of your own. You’re more than welcome to stay with me as long as you like.”
“Thank you,” Hope cooed. “How about we do a quick walk-through to figure where you want my drum set and twelve cats.” Unless she put nearly everything she owned in storage, there was no way she’d be able to move in with her mother. Not that she had any interest in doing so. At the age of twenty-nine, she’d been on her own way too long and valued her independence way too much.
“Very funny.” Her mother rolled her eyes.
“Seriously, though, I wouldn’t mind getting another cat.” Hope smiled in remembrance of the old barn cats they used to keep before her mother had sold the family farm.
Her mother grimaced as they mounted the porch stairs and stepped inside her tiny townhome. It was the antithesis of where Hope had been raised. Instead of a rambling, rustic old ranch house on over fifty acres, it consisted of three elegant bedrooms and two equally elegant baths with trayed ceilings and heavy crown molding throughout. The living room was a cozy nook, barely big enough to hold a loveseat and a single recliner. A flat screen television was mounted to the wall. There wasn’t even a yard for her mother to maintain anymore. All the property outside was maintained by her homeowner’s association.
For the thousandth time, Hope wondered why her mother had chosen to sell the family farm so suddenly. It made little sense, since she could easily have afforded to stay. Was it simply too big a place for one lone widow to rattle around in? Or were there simply too many sad memories there, now that her husband was gone?
Her mother served a simple meal of grilled chicken strips over a pilaf of squash and zucchini noodles. It was delicious. As the meal progressed, her mother lapsed into melancholy. To fill the silence, Hope kept up a steady flow of small talk about her new job, stopping now and then to compliment her mother on the meal or ask a question about her own life. As best as she could tell, her mother enjoyed cooking and reading out on the back patio these days.
She didn’t once bring up the topic of her volunteer work, which Hope found more than a little odd. In the past, her mother had kept a finger in nearly every pie in town — raising money for the police department, judging 4H contests, and helping out with the food pantry at church.
Hope finally stood to carry her empty plate to the sink in the tiny adjoining kitchenette.
“What are you doing?” her mother asked, looking startled.
“Cleaning up. You did all the cooking. The least I can do is help clear the table.”
“No. Leave it, please.” Clara Remington gave a sad smile. “It’ll give me something to do later on.”
Puzzled by the strange note in her mother’s voice, Hope blinked. “We can play a game of dominoes or go for a walk, if you want.”
“No, that’s alright, honey. I prefer to just stay here and piddle around my own kitchen, if that’s okay with you.”
Unsure what to say to that, Hope set her plate back down.
Her mother’s fork suddenly stopped in mid-air on its way to her mouth and remained suspended in space.
“Mother?” Hope asked gently. “Are you feeling alright?”
Clara Remington jolted and lowered her fork. “Of course. I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.”
A long day doing what? Hope scanned her mother’s features with a sinking feeling. Something was wrong. Never before had her mother seemed so fragile and distant. It was as if part of her was missing. Or slipping away.
Blinking back tears, she moved to the tiny living room to gaze at the p
hotos on the mantle. With a sigh of nostalgia, she bent closer to gaze at a picture of her standing between her parents in front of the big red barn they used to own. The photo resting beside it, however, made her freeze. It showed the covered bridge on the edge of the farm — the place where Josh had failed to join her on that fateful day ten years earlier.
“You should go back and pay the place a visit,” her mother urged, coming up from behind to stand beside her. “I know you always loved that old bridge. I don’t think the new owner would mind.”
“Thanks. I just might.” Hope set the frame down, knowing her mother had no real idea what she was asking of her. And how could she? Hope had never confided in her about what had happened — or not happened — on the covered bridge the day she’d left town. She idly wondered how hard it would be to visit there again, to observe from a distance the home she’d grown up in. What if the new owners had made a bunch of changes to the place? What if she hardly recognized it anymore?
Despite her many misgivings, Hope borrowed the keys to her mother’s small white sedan the following evening. It took less than ten minutes to reach the bridge. She parked the car on the side of the road near the bride and strolled the rest of the way to the rustic wooden structure. A few things were immediately apparent. The wood was in good repair and bore a fresh coat of stain. The new owner had gone to a decent amount of effort to spruce it up. He’d even repaired its lattice side beams.
She peered through one of the diamond openings in the slats to gaze at the creek below, remembering. The last time she’d stood in this exact spot, she’d been waiting for someone. Someone who never came.
Though she’d promised herself it would only be a quick visit, one in which she would keep her emotions in check, unwanted tears welled. She jammed her hands in the pockets of the white cardigan sweater she’d tossed over her jeans. Though the warmth of summer still radiated mid-day, the September evenings were growing cooler.
Why? It was the question that had shredded her peace of mind for ten straight years. Why didn’t you come, Josh? Kellan was right. Now that she was back in Heart Lake, she was never going to be able to move on with her life until she answered that question.