by Sewell, Earl
“Really.” Olivia was intrigued by what was going on behind enemy lines. “What did they ask you?”
“They asked if the list of schools slated to be closed was based on racial demographics. I hate that our culture is so willing to make assumptions instead of listening to factual data and the truth.”
“Well, the data that I gave you at our hearing was truthful and factual, and I still don’t understand why we’re on the list,” Olivia said.
“I know your information was accurate and that’s one of things that make this situation so complicated. There is truth on both sides of the fence on this issue.”
“There has never been such a massive school closing in the history of this country. This is not supposed to happen, Langston. This decision will impact the future of our nation. I don’t understand how politicians can deliver rhetoric about paying teachers their worth and building better schools when they’re trying to get elected, and then turn around and do something completely different once they’re in office.” She was trying hard to separate Langston from his job, but she feared she was failing.
“I know. It’s a real slap in the face as far as the public is concerned,” Langston admitted. “However, the necessary evil of closures is going to take place. There’s no avoiding it. So the new issue in the face of all of the factual data, the public’s concerns, the budget crisis and the needs of the students is, what is fair?”
“None of it is fair, Langston.” Olivia’s voice was laced with agitation.
“This situation has a lot of people on my side of the issue in a difficult position. For example, I’m marching with teachers and community leaders in the parade of unfairness. But I’m also in support of balancing the budget and creating a surplus instead of a deficit. This situation I’m in has caused a number of gray hairs to sprout on my head.” Langston paused for a moment, appearing to consider his next words. “The political fallout from this move is going to be enormous.”
“That’s why they call Chicago the Windy City. That moniker has nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with politics.”
“When the next election cycle arrives, voters are going to remember this and the media will be ready and waiting to cover all of the grim details.” Langston threaded his fingers together and placed them on the table.
“Can I ask you a serious question, Langston?” Olivia asked.
“Sure,” he answered.
“How do you really feel about what’s happening?” she asked.
“It sucks. It’s one part of my job that I really don’t like,” he admitted.
“You could choose to quit and not be part of it,” Olivia suggested.
“I could, but that would turn me into a quitter. The reason I was hired had everything to do with my ability to manage issues like this. I didn’t create the budget crisis but I will do everything that I can to stop the hemorrhaging and create additional streams of income for the benefit of students,” he said as he picked up the papers that were on the table and stacked them.
“What is that you were looking at?” Olivia asked.
Langston was about to put the papers in his satchel, but handed them over to Olivia instead. “It’s the proposed plan to repurpose the school buildings that will be closed. The idea is to sell and lease the space to generate income.”
“Really?” Olivia took a look at a spreadsheet containing numbers and other data.
“Oh, crap! Give that back to me,” Langston blurted and, without giving her a chance to give the papers back to him, reached across the table and snatched them.
“You didn’t have to react like that. I wasn’t planning on walking away with them,” Olivia said coolly.
“I had to. A reporter just walked in.” Langston nodded his head in the direction of the door. Olivia inconspicuously turned in her seat and saw a familiar and well-known journalist. Her name was Andrea Spencer. She was tall, with brown shoulder-length hair and glasses.
“She just spotted me,” Langston said.
“She’s not coming over here, is she?” Olivia asked.
“Yes, she is,” Langston said with dread.
“Langston, how are you?” Andrea walked up to the table and extended her hand to him. Langston planted a smile on his face and shook hands with her. Then the other woman turned to Olivia.
“Hi, I’m Andrea Spencer from the Eyewitness News,” she said.
“Nice to meet to you. I’m Olivia.”
Reaching into her purse Andrea removed a business card and handed it to Langston. “I’d like to get an exclusive interview with you, Langston, about the elementary school on 103rd and Morgan Street. I have inside information that suggests that closing that school would force children to have to walk through the most violent neighborhood in the city, and I would like to get a response from one of the committee members about that.”
“My principal said that there was a plan in the works to bus the students to the new location,” Olivia interjected. The moment the words slipped past her lips, she wished she could recall them.
“I’m sorry.” Andrea turned her attention back to Olivia. “Do you work for that school, Olivia?” Olivia glanced at Langston, who was obviously uncomfortable and trying not to let it show.
“Andrea, I have no comment about any of that.” Langston forced the reporter to turn her attention back to him.
“Okay, what about you, Olivia?” Andrea opened her purse and removed a handheld recording device.
“Why did you come over here?” Olivia asked, suddenly annoyed that Andrea had intruded on their meal.
“Pardon me?” Andrea said, her surprise at Olivia’s question evident on her face.
“Langston and I were enjoying a lovely dinner until you showed up. It’s time for you to walk away and leave us alone.” Olivia had reached her tipping point. Andrea turned off the recorder.
“I see,” Andrea remarked unapologetically.
“Apparently you don’t see. You walked over and assumed that Langston wanted to talk to you while he was having dinner. Where are your manners?” Olivia stared at Andrea until the other woman looked away.
“Fair enough. You two enjoy yourselves,” the reporter huffed, then turned around and walked out.
“I don’t believe that just happened,” Olivia said.
“Neither do I.” Langston grinned. “I need to hire you as my bodyguard.”
“If given the chance, I’d guard more than just your body.” The words were out of Olivia’s mouth before she had a chance to edit them.
“Is that so? What else would you guard?” Langston asked.
Olivia swallowed hard and then looked him in the eye. “Your heart. You deserve to have someone help you carry around that load you bear.”
Langston gazed back at her. “Well, I do have an opening for the position of heart-and-body guard. Are you putting in an application?”
“Yes, and it’s the only application you need to look at,” Olivia said. And the smile she gave him came straight from her heart.
Chapter Seven
Olivia wasn’t exactly sure how her fondness for Langston was able to grow, knowing that he was part of a team looking to put her out of a job. She knew what she was doing would be considered sleeping with the enemy. But Olivia rationalized that she could like Langston as a person, even if she loathed the job that he had to do. Langston, on the other hand, savored the opportunity to get to know her more intimately. He suggested that they make a conscious effort to keep their professional lives separate from their relationship. Olivia wasn’t sure it would work, but she was willing to try.
As Olivia got to know Langston more intimately, her feelings for him grew in ways that she would have never perceived as possible. She adored how creative and thoughtful he was. He took her out on some of the most unique dates she had ever
been on. Once, when she was visiting him at his condo for dinner, he asked her, “Do you like art?”
“Do you mean like in an art gallery?” she asked for clarification.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean,” he said as he prepared the salad with mixed greens, grilled tofu, avocado, carrots and red peppers.
“Yes, I like art,” Olivia said.
“What type of art appeals to you? Do you like abstract art or realism?” he asked.
“Umm, I have a tendency to be more attracted to abstract art,” Olivia said as he placed the salad bowl on the dining room table.
“That’s great,” Langston said as he walked over to the stove and opened the oven door and then announced, “This is ready.”
“You are so amazing,” she said.
“Ha! I am nothing near amazing.”
“Sure you are. A man who knows how to cook is amazing to me,” Olivia said.
“I had to learn how to cook because eating out every night was starting to get expensive,” Langston said. “Hopefully you’ll like what I’ve made. It’s my first time making this dish.”
“Well, it smells great,” Olivia said.
“It’s lasagna made with smoked spinach and tofu ricotta. I followed a recipe and even called my mother for a little support.” Langston chuckled as he reached for a plate. He cut out a square slice for Olivia and placed it in front of her. Then he cut out a larger portion for himself. He grabbed a bottle of wine, uncorked it and poured it in her wineglass. He then lit several candles that were placed around the dining area and dimmed the chandelier lights. At last, he took a seat and reached across the table for her hands, then proceeded to say grace.
“Dear Lord, please make my cooking taste good to Olivia, and if she doesn’t like it, make her smile anyway. Amen.”
Olivia laughed. “You’re funny,” she said as she took a bite. “Oh, my God! This is delicious.”
“Really?” Langston said, obviously pleased that she liked what he had prepared.
“Yes,” Olivia said as she took another bite. “You have to let me cook for you next time.”
“I’d like that.” Langston smiled and started eating.
“Why did you ask me about the type of art I liked?” Olivia inquired.
“Because I want to take you to a very special place for our next date,” he said.
“Sounds like you want to take me to an art gallery,” Olivia concluded.
“Something like that,” Langston answered and winked at her.
Olivia thought for sure that Langston had made plans to take her to an art gallery of some type. So, she was completely taken aback when he took her to the art-studio-slash-wine-bar Bottle & Bottega for a nonprofit fund-raiser.
“Have you ever been to anything like this?” he asked when they arrived.
“No,” Olivia admitted as she looked around. The place was designed as a studio where artists and non-artists could come to unleash their creativity on paint canvases while enjoying a glass of wine.
“This is going to be so much fun. I’ve never been to a wine and painting party,” Olivia said as she and Langston donned aprons so they wouldn’t get paint on their clothes. They were allowed to pick an image that they wanted to attempt to paint. Olivia decided to try painting fruit in a bowl and Langston decided to paint multicolored bottles.
“I’m going to frame whatever this thing I’ve created is,” Olivia said after she’d been working on her painting for about fifteen minutes.
“Whatever it is, it’s exactly what it’s supposed to be,” Langston said, glancing over at her “art.”
Olivia leaned back to get a better look at his canvas. “That’s a strange-looking bottle you’ve painted there.”
“The bottle is drunk and has blurred vision.” Langston chuckled. An hour and several glasses of wine later, Olivia and Langston had completed their paintings and proudly presented them to each other and the group.
After they left the studio, Langton placed their paintings in his vehicle and then he and Olivia took a stroll along the bike path adjacent to Lake Michigan. Olivia had her arm looped through his and they kept bumping into each other as they walked.
“I think you’re tipsy,” Langston said.
“No, I’m not. You’re the one who keeps bumping into me,” Olivia responded, and then rested her head on his shoulder.
“What a beautiful skyline.” Langston sighed as a wave of water crashed against the shoreline.
“Yes, it is,” Olivia concurred, feeling warm and cared for. Langston stopped walking and turned to face her. Olivia knew that they had arrived at a very special kissable moment, and she longed to taste him again. They kissed, and the sounds and distractions of the world around them seemed to disappear.
“Heads up!” They were interrupted by the shouting of a cyclist speeding toward them. The guy swerved around them and yelled an obscenity over his shoulder.
“We had better move before someone mows us over,” Langston said.
“Yeah,” Olivia said, looping her arm around him as they continued on their evening walk.
Chapter Eight
Olivia had just let her students go home for the day. She was in her classroom, tidying up, when she heard Principal Bowen say her name through the intercom system in her classroom.
“Yes?” she answered as she cleaned her blackboard with an eraser.
“Could you please stop by my office?”
“Sure, I’ll be there in a moment.”
Wondering what was up, Olivia walked down the hall to the principal’s office and took a seat in the chair positioned at the front of her desk.
“It’s official, Olivia,” she said, exhaling a long sigh.
“What’s official?” Olivia asked.
“At the end of the year our school will be closed,” Principal Bowen said. “I just found out. I’ll make the announcement tomorrow morning. Since you were here, I thought I’d let you know.” Olivia couldn’t say it came as a shock, but she still felt the sting of the news. No matter how much she’d prepared herself for the possibility of being unemployed, now that it was actually happening, she had a moment of disbelief.
“I can’t believe they’re going to do this,” Olivia finally said.
“Neither can I, but they are. There’s going to be a protest rally downtown next week. The fact that they are closing so many schools has made the national newsfeeds,” the principal told her.
“Do you think getting national attention is going to change the minds of the school board?” Olivia asked.
“Well, it can’t hurt.”
“Damn.” Olivia sighed as she mulled over the situation. She wondered if she could or should leverage her relationship with Langston to see if there was anything he could do to reverse the board’s decision.
“I know. I’m out of a position, as well.” Principal Bowen glanced briefly out her office window. “Olivia, I know something that may be of interest to you.”
“I’m all ears.” Olivia came out of her thoughts and back into the present.
“I’ve learned that some of the school facilities will be repurposed.”
“I heard the rumors, too,” Olivia said.
“Well, the school board is interested in leasing or selling the closed schools to nonprofit organizations. When I heard that, I thought of you and your foundation.”
Olivia’s heart seized up. She had considered the possibility, but she couldn’t see how she could afford it. “Thank you for thinking about me, but...”
“Hang on, I’m not finished yet. I did a little digging around and became aware of a moderate-sized facility that will be repurposed and would be an ideal space for you. If you’d like, I can pull a few strings and have your name moved to the top of the consideration list.”
“That’s so thoughtful of you, but I’m going to have to focus on changing careers,” Olivia said, tears stinging the backs of her eyes. “I do love teaching, but with so many teachers out of a job, I’m not sure there will be any jobs left in this town.”
“Olivia, you’re an excellent teacher. I can’t say that about everyone here, but about you, I can. I can appreciate your concern about financial resources.”
“It’s more than a concern. It’s my new reality and I have to plan accordingly,” Olivia explained.
“I know, but there may be a way to get the money you need for the lease, in addition to some funding to pay your salary. It’s a long shot, but I think it would be worth your time to give it a try.”
“What is it?” Olivia asked, her curiosity piqued.
Principal Bowen pulled a yellow sticky note from her top desk drawer. She scribbled something on it and then handed the note to Olivia. “The state gives out grants to organizations like yours. If you write a good proposal, you might get funded.” Olivia looked at the note, which had the URL of a website. “I hope everything works out for you. The world is a better place because of people like you, Olivia.”
“Thank you,” Olivia said. Principal Bowen came around her desk and gave her a hug. Fighting back tears, Olivia hugged her back, staring at the sticky note she clenched in her right fist and wondering if she could possibly dare to have any hope that her luck would change.
Chapter Nine
It was an unseasonably warm Saturday, so Olivia decided to take a stroll along the beach to think. She’d cancelled her plans with Langston and told him that she would call later on. When she arrived at the beach, there were a few pale sunbathers tanning their skin and some families with small children making sandcastles. Two college-aged guys tossed a football back and forth. Olivia took off her shoes and walked barefoot across the warm sand. She made it to the water’s edge and allowed the incoming waves to wash over her feet and lick at her ankles. She gazed at the horizon and took a moment to appreciate its beauty. Olivia was at a crossroads in her professional life. She needed to decide whether she should take a leap of faith and dip into her savings account to fund her organization or do what was practical and look for a new employer. Olivia sighed as she looked to the heavens for some type of sign or message, but she didn’t see anything there, only clear blue sky. She continued along the shoreline until she found a quiet spot where she could sit and do some serious soul searching. She drilled her toes into the sand and closed her eyes, relishing in the feel of the gentle breeze on her skin.