Learning to Love

by Julie Evelyn Joyce

  Will shuffled toward the entrance. “Let me get you a cone.”

  “Oh no, you don’t have to.”

  “It’s two scoops for the price of one,” he said with a playful eyebrow waggle.

  She wasn’t too thrilled about the idea of him paying for hers, but it was just a cone. Not a diamond ring. “Okay, thanks.”

  “What kind?”

  Rebecca had sampled about every flavor they had in the shop and none of them disappointed. All ice cream was good ice cream. “Surprise me.”

  His eyes lit up at the challenge. “Be right back.”

  Minutes later, he exited the shop, balancing two cones in one hand and a small cup in the other. First, he passed her one of the cones. “I got you peanut butter explosion.” At her gasp, he said, “You’re not allergic, are you?”

  “God, no.” She took a big bite from the top, getting a chocolate peanut butter cup in her mouthful. “You did good,” she told him. “Very, very good.”

  “Good.” His lips curved upward before he licked at his own cone—chocolate chip cookie dough, she guessed. “Fall is the perfect time to eat ice cream because it doesn’t melt as fast.”

  If he didn’t stop smiling at her like that, her cone—and other parts of her being—would melt. “We’re not far from the gazebo. You wanna go sit down for a bit?”

  “I’d love to.” Will lifted the Scoops cup and nodded to the sheltie. “I got Pip a bit of vanilla ice cream, too, if it’s okay for him to eat it.”

  “He will happily devour that once we’re settled.”

  They walked in stride, keeping a relaxed pace as they ate their ice cream. She scanned their surroundings, curious how onlookers would view the three of them. Two friends and a dog out for an evening stroll? Partners? Soon-to-be-lovers? Clearing the last thought from her brain, she said, “I hear you shacked up with Carmen Deacon.”

  Will snorted. “The woman has her own reverse harem.”

  “She’s something else,” Rebecca said, chuckling. “I didn’t realize you were living in town.”

  “I moved in at the start of my practicum because I didn’t want to deal with the commute every day. I’m grateful I have that option this week especially. I’m feeling kinda zapped.”

  She understood. Completely. Part of the joy of working in the PE department was having others around to pep you up, crack jokes, commiserate with you, whatever. Their rift had had put a damper on things the last couple days.

  They climbed the gazebo steps, the twinkle lights that encircled each of its support beams giving off a magical glow. Will placed the cup of vanilla ice cream on the floor for Pip, who pounced on it like it was a porterhouse steak. He sat next to Rebecca on the bench at the center of the gazebo, the heat of his gaze giving the setting an even more intimate feel.

  “Rebecca, I want to apologize for the donation. I didn’t really think things through, and I never meant any disrespect. My father donates every fall to my alma mater, and I asked him if he’d consider donating to Kendal High . . . in my sister’s name.”

  She grimaced, her cheeks burning in shame over having been so accusatory when, all along, his heart had been in the right place. “I jumped to conclusions,” she said. “I’m sorry for what I said and for not giving you a chance to explain.” A trickle of ice cream dripped from her cone and landed on her knuckle. She licked it off, then took another bite of the cold treat.

  Will crunched into the crispy wafer and gobbled down the remainder of his cone. He must have seen her shiver because he stood, untied the jacket at his waist, and wrapped it around her shoulders. Returning next to her, closer to her this time, he said, “Better?”

  So much better. “Yes,” she whispered back. He’d really opened up to her in recent days, shed light on parts of himself that she sensed he typically kept locked inside. She’d praised him for his bravery in sharing his story, his truth. He deserved to hear hers. “Money is a . . . touchy subject for me. I grew up without much. My mom and I were on public assistance for most of my childhood. It never stretched far enough. Some days I’d go to school without a lunch or I’d go to bed without dinner. We struggled. For years.” She stared at the floor, mesmerized by the droplets of ice cream that fell from her cone and splashed against the wooden surface. “Margaret Robinson took me under her wing and helped me through some of the tougher days.”

  Lifting her head, she expected to see sympathy or pity or even unease written in his features, but his gentle nod and intent focus gave her reason to continue. “The thing is, Will, I’m not an exceptional case. There are kids currently at our school who are in the exact same boat. And I guess the donation felt like a Band-Aid solution to me. A nice parting gift for when you leave.”

  “Who says I’m leaving?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  He was quiet for a moment. Pip, who’d been whirling around the perimeter of the gazebo since his shot of sugar, finally settled down at Will’s feet. “I don’t know what I’m doing yet, to be honest. But my past, where I grew up and what I come from . . . that doesn’t define me.”

  “Neither does your sister’s death.”

  Will opened his mouth, then snapped it closed again. His eyes darted away and he stared off in the distance, as if allowing himself time to digest her statement. Maybe it wasn’t her place to make such a claim, but he needed to understand that he had as little control over what happened to his sister as he did the life and family he was born into. She gathered from their previous talk in the teachers’ lounge that he carried her death like some kind of crucifix, and he’d sacrifice his own happiness to ease his guilty conscience.

  Despite having never had a sibling, she could appreciate the depth of his love, his devotion to his sister. She just worried that he’d never see that as being enough.

  “Tell me about her,” she said. “What was she like?”

  Will continued staring ahead, but his body visibly relaxed and a smile crossed his face. “Aly was such a cute kid. Rosy cheeks and dimples. She loved to play dress-up and watch movies. Halloween was her favorite holiday.” He laughed. “I remember this one time—I think she was about five and I was in my early teens—and we were playing hide-and-seek. I swear, I spent half an hour looking for her, and I started freaking out that she’d left the house or injured herself or worse, and how was I gonna explain this to my parents. She’d been hiding on top of the chairs under the dining room table, and I hadn’t seen her because of the tablecloth, and she ended up falling asleep there. I only found her when I heard her snores.”

  Rebecca grinned at the anecdote. “I don’t know too many teenagers who could get suckered into playing hide-and-seek. She was lucky to have you as her big brother.”

  Will met her gaze. “I was the lucky one. We were really close until I went off to school.”

  “Which makes sense,” she inserted, sensing his narrative was about to take a self-deprecating turn. “You were trying to make a life for yourself. She was still at home. She had your parents. You were in two completely different stages.” Her neglected cone dripped against the back of her fingers, but she ignored it.

  He dropped his chin. “I guess.”

  “And something tells me, you were there more for her than you realize.”

  Pressing his lips together, he rubbed his palms over his thighs. Eventually, he stopped the motion and lifted his head and locked those blue eyes on her. “Your past doesn’t define you, either.”

  She blinked, startled by the swift subject change, but remained silent.

  “The challenges you’ve endured and overcome have only made you stronger, more compassionate and empathetic.”

  As good as it felt to hear his uplifting words, she wanted him to understand that even someone like her, a woman who appeared to have a firm hold on her life, still struggled sometimes. “Will, you know, you can’t always see the warning signs. There have been times I’ve had to check myself. Like I said, food wasn’t exactly plentiful when I was growing up, and I’ve had issu
es trusting that I’d ever get enough.” She paused, questioning whether she’d shared too much. He had this ability to break through to the deepest parts of her, exposing truths she kept hidden from most of the world.

  Will didn’t speak to fill the silence, though it seemed a million questions were written on his features. His warm gaze held her own and gave her the courage to continue.

  “People comment on my exercising, and it makes me second-guess whether I do it for fun and health, for the challenge, or if my subconscious uses it as control. Food is sort of a two-sided coin for me. And this is me at thirty-five.” She forced a chuckle. “I can’t imagine how hard it is being a teenage girl in this day and age, but I try to use my position as a way to empower them. The challenges and the obstacles don’t ever go away, but if we can give them the right tools, then maybe they’ll overcome them. We’re like doctors in some ways. We care for our students, prescribe a unique treatment plan, and advise them on the correct path . . . but we can’t save every kid.”

  Will swallowed hard and nodded. “You’re right.” He looked down at Pip, then lifted his chin to meet her eyes again. “I know I haven’t been here long, but I can tell you with certainty that you’re an incredible teacher and role model. Not just at the school, but in the community, with your volunteering and outreach. I think . . . I think you’re amazing, and I’m really glad I met you.”

  Her eyes watered and her skin flushed. Every nerve ending sizzled and snapped. She tucked those beautiful, meaningful words into a compartment inside her heart, one that had been empty for far too long.

  “You’re glad you met me, too, right?” he asked, a crooked smile twisting his lips.

  She snorted at his rare show of insecurity. “Yeah, you’re okay.”

  Rumbling laughter rolled over her like thunder. His hip nudged hers and her heart beat faster. Lord, she dreamed of running her fingers through his thick head of hair. She closed her hand into a fist to fight off the urge, and cold, sticky ice cream squeezed between her fingers instead.

  Will leaned forward, his hooded eyes fixed on her lips.

  Oh boy. Not good. Say something. Do something.

  Pip sprang from his prone position and licked the back of her hand where the liquid trickled free. She giggled, breaking the spell they’d fallen under. Will pulled back and passed her some napkins to help with the mess. She finished off what she could of her cone, determined to savor as much peanut butter flavor as possible.

  Returning Will’s jacket, she stood and reached for Pip’s leash that he’d dragged through the dregs of her ice cream. “I should get Pip home. Tomorrow’s gonna be a long day, too.”

  Will rose to his full height. “You’ll be at the dance?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Good.”

  Rebecca broke eye contact before the smile his words provoked spread any further. “Thanks for the ice cream . . . and other stuff,” she said over her shoulder as she and Pip descended the stairs.

  “Thank you. Good night, Rebecca.”

  “Good night, Will.”

  Once they were far enough away, and she’d confirmed he’d gone in the opposite direction, she released a long-held breath. The Halloween dance always promised a heap of high school drama. She didn’t need to add her own to the mix. Sticky fingers were the least of her problems when it came to keeping her paws off Will.

  16

  Will leaned against the wall next to the DJ booth and surveyed the scene before him. He’d stayed after school to help decorate the gymnasium along with a few other staff members and the student council. They’d stuck fake cobwebs in every corner, strategically placed jack-o’-lanterns with plastic tea lights, blew up dozens of orange and black balloons and used those and matching streamers to mark the entrance and surround the DJ booth. Outside of that, they’d dimmed the main lights and turned on a multi-colored strobe light to set the mood.

  Students were just starting to trickle in, most of them decked out in their Halloween costumes. Pete, too, had dressed up in dark shades and a black suit and tie in the style of Agent J from Men in Black. He assumed DJ duties and loaded up his playlist on the laptop he’d connected to the floor-standing speakers which thumped out a steady, bass-heavy beat.

  Margaret and Terry, one of the math teachers, supervised the entrance to ensure all the participants were from Kendal High and they weren’t, well, high. Or drunk. Or wearing too-revealing costumes. He and Rebecca had been tasked as “floaters,” meant to keep a watchful eye on things in the gym and the halls. He hadn’t seen her yet but wouldn’t mind if she showed up in a too-revealing costume.

  Last night had been one of the most freeing nights of his life. Being able to talk about Aly beyond the grief and the guilt. Focusing on the happier memories. Rebecca gave him permission to be himself—his messy, tangled-up, damaged self. And the more time he spent with her, the more he felt himself healing again. He’d been so buoyed by their conversation that he’d called his mother on his walk home to share the same hide-and-seek anecdote with her. They’d never really had the kind of relationship where they’d just randomly pick up the phone for a chat, but whether it was divine intervention or Aly’s handiwork, he was glad he had. She’d laughed until she cried, then surprised him by reciprocating with a story of her own.

  How could he properly thank Rebecca for what she’d done for him, for his family? He had to show her with actions, not words. They’d almost kissed last night. Christ, he’d wanted to so badly. But he wouldn’t push. He knew that she needed to be in control. If she made him wait until his practicum ended, so be it. He’d invest in a straitjacket to avoid the temptation of touching her.

  Patrick Dunn entered the gym, chatting with students as he crossed the width. On the opposite side of the room, two teachers were unboxing bags of chips, bottles of water, and cans of pop for purchase at their makeshift snack station. He chuckled to see kids already lining up to grab some food.

  On his way back across, Patrick spotted Will and approached him, smiling kindly. “Ah, Mr. Whitney. Nice of you to join us tonight. It’s good to have as many hands on deck as possible.”

  Will nodded. “My pleasure. I’m trying to get the full Kendal High experience while I’m here.”

  Patrick clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Speaking of, I’ve heard great things from Pete. He said you’ve been helping him coach the varsity basketball team.”

  “Yes. I’ve gotten to know the guys a lot better and learn more from Pete.” There was no question his relationships with the boys—particularly the senior boys—had improved dramatically from the start of his practicum, which he attributed to the time he’d spent with them outside of class. Another thing he needed to thank Rebecca for.

  “Excellent! We’ve got high hopes for bringing home another championship this season.”

  Will didn’t doubt for a second this team was capable of going all the way, especially with Ryan Purnsey in top form. He’d been working with Ryan on his foul shots again this week and his consistency had improved every practice. “Oh, I wanted to ask you if I might be able to continue coaching when my practicum ends in November?” Will’s college semester finished in mid-December, and since he’d still be renting from Carmen for all of December, he figured he might as well stick around town and keep himself busy on the days he wasn’t in class. With the added perk of being in Rebecca’s immediate vicinity.

  “That’s certainly fine with me. We’d just ask that you sign in each day in the office and we’ll give you volunteer access.” He pulled Will aside, away from the speakers. “I know there’s still a month to go in your practicum and you might have other aspirations, but if you decided you’d like to do your second practicum here, we’ll gladly take you on. Good teachers are hard to come by, Will, and you’ve made quite an impression.”

  He’d been patted on the back before, commended on a job well done by bosses and colleagues and even competitors, but no praise had ever felt as sweet as this. “Thank you, sir. Thank you s
o much.”

  Patrick smiled. “Enjoy your evening. I’m sure it’ll be memorable. These dances usually are.”

  They shared a laugh before the older man excused himself. Will stared at the ceiling and reveled in Patrick’s approval. Relief, joy, satisfaction, and so many other emotions spread through him. One he refused to acknowledge, however. The one that crept in whenever he thought about leaving Kendal High. The one that gnawed at him whenever he remembered that his fate was already sealed.

  “What are you so happy about?” Rebecca strode toward him in snug jeans and a form-fitting T-shirt. She wore her hair down tonight for a change, and it fell well past her shoulders and curled at the ends.

  “Who wouldn’t be happy supervising a gym full of hormonal teenagers in freaky makeup whose idea of dancing would make most people blush?”

  She giggled. “I guess Berg hasn’t given them his usual spiel yet.”

  Right on cue, Pete lowered the music and his booming voice echoed through the gymnasium. “Welcome, all you ghouls and goblins, to Kendal High’s Halloween dance! As your resident DJ for the evening, I’d like to remind you that song requests must be PG-13, keep the inappropriate gyrating to a minimum, and no booing when I throw in some classics for the occasion. Like this one!” The opening chords of Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” rang out. “Have a spooktacular night, folks!”

  Will and Rebecca shuffled away from the speakers so they could still talk and watch the students at the same time. “Patrick and I were chatting. He had some nice things to say. It was good to hear.”

  “I’m not surprised. You’re really fitting in well here.”

  “I’ve had a good mentor. Two of them,” he said meaningfully.

  Their eyes locked and held as a soft smile played on her lips.

  “Ahem.” Margaret loudly cleared her throat as she floated over to them dressed as the Queen of Hearts, complete with crown and scepter.

  “Good evening, your Majesty,” Will greeted her with a bow.