A Mother for His Twins

by Jill Weatherholt

  He smiled. Thinking about it now calmed his nerves, as did thoughts of Joy. He’d been thrilled when she agreed to go out with him tonight. If today went well, he’d have some good news to share.

  His stomach bunched into a knot. What if she didn’t like his plan? If she had any reservations, he’d have to convince her.

  For the next ten minutes, Nick reviewed his notes. The chatter of young voices outside in the hall made him wonder if Jordan and Tyler were among the group.

  When the conference room door opened, he tucked his notes inside of the black leather portfolio.

  “Nick, it’s great to see you.”

  “Hello, Mr. Jacobson. It’s good to see you, too.”

  Nick accepted the elderly gentleman’s extended hand. For a guy pushing eighty years old, his grip was strong and his pin-striped suit was immaculate. He’d been the principal long before Nick started school and he’d remained long after Nick graduated. Following the horrific accident that had claimed the lives of Joy’s parents, Mr. Jacobson had filled her father’s position.

  “Please, call me Wilson.”

  Nick nodded. “Wilson it is.” He noticed a brunette woman with a tight bun standing inside the room. Dressed in a thin pencil skirt and a fitted jacket, she reminded him of a mannequin you’d see in a fancy department store in Chicago.

  Mr. Jacobson stepped aside and motioned Nick into the room. A long, freshly waxed mahogany table gleamed in the morning sunlight.

  “Nick, I’d like for you to meet Mrs. Dixon. She’s one of five from our school board. We didn’t want to scare you away with a big crowd.” Mr. Jacobson chuckled.

  Nick released a breath of relief and took a few steps forward. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Dixon.”

  She pursed her lips. “Likewise.”

  Mr. Jacobson turned to Mrs. Dixon. “Nick grew up in the halls of this school. I have to admit, when I received his résumé, I was quite pleased. Let’s all sit down, shall we?” The elderly man closed the door as the three took a seat at the table.

  Nick’s eyes spotted the icy pitcher of water perched within his reach.

  “Can I pour you a glass of water, Nick?” Mrs. Dixon asked with an arched brow as she reached for the container.

  His tongue was practically pasted to the roof of his mouth. “Yes, please.”

  Mr. Jacobson flipped through some papers in front of him. He pulled out one sheet and placed it facedown on the table. “I think you might be interested in knowing that there had been another interviewee besides Miss Kelliher.”

  Nick’s stomach twisted. He’d been afraid of additional candidates.

  “The woman had planned on relocating from upstate New York. Apparently her mother is ill, so she had to withdraw her application. So, it looks like it’s only you and Joy.” Mr. Jacobson half smiled.

  Relief settled in. “I see.” Nick nodded and took a sip of his water. The bell rang outside in the hall.

  Mr. Jacobson cleared his throat. “Your résumé is outstanding, son. Not only do you have the experience teaching in the education system, but you’ve earned your master’s degree as well. I’ll admit that is a huge draw for us.”

  Nick’s feet shuffled underneath the table as he thought of Joy, who was working toward her degree. For a second, he wished they were on a more even playing field, but he’d seen her with the children. She was more than qualified for the job.

  After forty-five minutes of typical interview questions being fired from Mr. Jacobson and Mrs. Dixon, Nick found himself becoming more nervous. He could sense they were interested in him as a candidate, but would they go for his plan? They had to. He could never take this job from Joy—he knew that now. But at the same time, he had to look after his own career.

  Mrs. Dixon eyed Nick. “I think that’s all of the questions we have for you today.” She nodded to Mr. Jacobson. “Is there anything more you’d care to add?”

  Outside the eight-paneled window, a redheaded woodpecker drilled against the giant oak tree. It was the same tree where he and Joy had carved their initials when they were young.

  Mr. Jacobson rubbed his hand across his chin. “I know you and Joy have a history that goes way back. I don’t want our decision to have any impact on your professional or personal relationship. My only question to you is, if we were to select Joy for the position and you remained as a teacher, would you have a problem answering to her and following whatever direction she chooses to take?”

  An uncomfortable feeling crept into his stomach. Would he be able to stay at the teacher level? But he was only a substitute at the school. Would they have him take Joy’s position? “No, I would have no problem answering to her or anyone in that position.”

  He ran his finger down the side of his glass before picking it up and draining the last of the water. Now was his opportunity. “Mr. Jacobson, Mrs. Dixon—” he glanced at them “—I’ve been doing a lot of research and I’ve come up with an idea that might be beneficial to this school.”

  Mr. Jacobson leaned back against his chair and clasped his hands on the table. His brow arched. “I must say, son, you’ve piqued my interest.” He turned to Mrs. Dixon.

  She nodded. “Yes, please go ahead. We’re always open to new ideas.”

  Nick took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “Have you ever heard of the concept of coprincipals?”

  “I can’t say that I have,” Mr. Jacobson responded and turned to Mrs. Dixon for her thoughts.

  “Yes, I have heard a little about it.” She paused and placed her pen on the table. “I’d be interested to hear more.”

  Nick pulled some of his notes from his portfolio. “The idea has been quite successful in schools across the country. It’s not a principal and an assistant, but two principals who work together, both of whom have the authority as decision makers.”

  The two interviewers nodded. “This is interesting. Please go on,” Mr. Jacobson said as he scribbled a few notes.

  “Well, I believe the philosophy behind it is something everyone could support...two people, one voice. I’ve read it’s quite effective in schools such as this, where it’s kindergarten through twelfth grade.” He turned to face the current principal. “For one person to have sole responsibility like you’ve had, I’m sure there were times when the pressure of being the only decision maker was not only difficult, but lonely as well.”

  The older gentleman nodded. “That’s true and part of the reason I’ve decided to step down.” A solemn expression covered his face.

  “Exactly, but with two in charge, they’re able to bounce ideas off of one another,” Nick added. “Of course, there is an adjustment period for the teachers, students and the parents. Some may feel one is more in charge than the other. If they don’t get the answer they want from one, they might go to the other. I’ve learned this is all normal and typically works itself out over time.”

  Mrs. Dixon rolled her pen between her fingers. “This all sounds positive, but there’s one thing I wonder if you’ve considered.”

  Nick nodded. “The budget—right?”

  “Yes. Two principal salaries aren’t within Whispering Slopes’ budget. Don’t get me wrong—I like the idea, but I’m afraid if I presented it to the rest of the board, it would be shot down for monetary reasons,” she said.

  Nick had prayed about this issue. He believed in this idea so much that he was willing to make some sacrifices, not only for the good of the school, but for Joy. She deserved to fulfill her dream. After working for the school for so many years, it only seemed right she be offered the job. “I understand the money isn’t there. That’s why I’m willing to take a cut in salary, if necessary.”

  Mr. Jacobson and Mrs. Dixon exchanged glances.

  The woman squirmed in her chair. “But you’d have a tremendous amount of responsibility, much more than working as a teacher.” Her brow arched. “Besides
, we couldn’t have one principal making more than the other, if it’s an equal position. I like the idea, I really do, but it would certainly require some number crunching to work it into the budget, since we’d have to hire another teacher.”

  Following a half an hour of questions pertaining to his qualifications, the interview concluded. In the end, Nick had planted the idea of coprincipals. Now it was up to Mr. Jacobson, Mrs. Dixon and the rest of the board to decide.

  The three stood up from the table and shook hands.

  Mrs. Dixon smiled. “Personally, I’m quite excited by your proposal, Nick. Of course, it will have to go in front of the board, but you can trust me. I’ll present it in the most positive light.”

  Mr. Jacobson extended his hand. “I like it... I like it a lot, Nick. No matter what happens, I want to thank you for returning to Whispering Slopes with some groundbreaking ideas.”

  As Nick headed outside to the playground to get the boys, the sun rays filtered through the clouds, taking away the chill. He released a long and steady breath and his shoulders relaxed. The interview couldn’t have gone any better. Both Mr. Jacobson and Mrs. Dixon seemed receptive to his plan, but he knew money would be an issue. His thoughts turned to Joy. What if she didn’t want to work that closely with him? Perhaps it would bring back too many memories she’d rather forget. If the board approved his idea, he could only hope she’d be as open to the plan. He pulled out his phone and sent her a text.

  Still on for dinner tonight? Just the two of us?

  Seconds later, his phone chirped. I can’t wait.

  * * *

  Later that evening, the couple studied their menus at the Waterfront Grill. Their table was situated near a window overlooking a lake. A tapered candle flickered in the middle of their table, casting a shimmery glow across Joy’s face. Right now he couldn’t think of anything he’d rather do than lean across the table and press his lips to hers.

  She squirmed in her seat as though she’d read his mind.

  “It’s really beautiful here, Nick.”

  “I read the surf and turf is outstanding.” He picked up his glass of ice water and took a long drink.

  She played with a loose strand of her hair and looked up at him. Her eyes sparkled. “That’s exactly what I was craving.”

  He gently closed his menu. “Is that what you’d like?”

  She nodded like an excited child.

  After the waitress took their orders, the twosome gazed out onto the water.

  Nick swallowed the lump in his throat and spoke. “Do you remember the night I told you I wanted to marry you?” He faced her again.

  “Of course I do.” She released a sigh. “It feels like a lifetime ago, though.”

  He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “That’s exactly what I was thinking. What else do you remember?”

  Joy played with the gold charm around her neck, her eyelashes fluttering. “Honest?”

  He nodded.

  “I went home that night and wrote Mrs. Joy Capello on ten pages of my red leather diary.” She gazed back to the water. “I don’t think I’ve felt that happy since.”

  Nick reached across the table for her hand. It was velvety smooth. “I wanted to apologize again for how my father handled our move—for how I handled things. I should have tried harder to reach out to you. You have no idea how badly I wanted to talk to you...to hear your sweet voice.”

  “Do you know what I remember most about your father? How he treated your mother. I knew you would be the same kind of husband.” She smiled. “He always referred to her as his ‘little bride.’ I totally understand you wanting to protect him—that’s what family does.”

  Protect. Sometimes the word made him physically ill. The guilt swooped in again. He’d been fighting so hard to let go of his mistakes, not wanting the events from the past to define who he was and what he thought of himself as a man. “I wasn’t there to protect you from Scotty and I definitely wasn’t there for my wife.” He yanked his hand away and raked his fingers through his hair. “She was wasting away right there in front of me every day and I turned a blind eye to it. Who does that? What kind of man am I?”

  The waitress approached and refilled their water glasses. “Your food should be out momentarily.” She turned away.

  “Nick, look at me.” Joy reached for both of his hands. “You’ve got to forgive yourself... God already has.”

  “I can’t stop thinking about my boys growing up without a mother because of me.”

  “The blame doesn’t all fall on you. Maybe you didn’t notice her failing health, but Michelle didn’t tell you either. She was the mother of your sons and she owed it to them to talk with you about her health.”

  Nick stared out across the lake. Lights from massive waterfront homes flickered. He wondered what kind of secrets were behind the walls of those luxury homes.

  “Maybe so, but I was the man of the house. I took vows, Joy—to love, honor and cherish...in sickness and in health.”

  “Can I ask you something?” Joy spoke in a whisper.

  The chair creaked when he pushed his shoulders back into the wood and gave a slight nod.

  “You said you were busy studying for your master’s degree and working crazy hours.”

  Crazy didn’t begin to describe his life back then. The days seemed to blur into the next. But he had a family, so he got up and did it again. That was what a husband and a father was supposed to do.

  “Okay, so you were busy and probably extremely exhausted.”

  He sighed. “It was a challenging season, that’s for sure.”

  “Do you remember during all of the craziness asking your wife if she was okay? Or mentioning that maybe she didn’t look well?”

  He wasn’t sure where she was going with this line of questioning, but he continued to provide the answers. “Of course I did.”

  “Then how can you blame yourself when she wasn’t honest with you? She obviously had her reasons for not sharing with you how sick she really was, but that doesn’t mean you ignored her or that it’s your fault she died.”

  After she passed, his world had spun out of control. Dealing with the boys on his own, trying to keep his job and finish his degree, he’d never stopped to think about the events leading up to her death. At the time, all he knew was that his wife had died and he should have prevented it. “I don’t know... Maybe.”

  Joy’s eyes swam with tears when she focused on him. “Please, forgive yourself, Nick. It’s long forgotten in the eyes of the Lord. You have to move on...for Tyler and Jordan, but more importantly, for yourself.”

  Silence circled the table until the server arrived with their steak and lobster. “I hope you both brought your appetites.” He placed the plates on the table, along with some hot melted butter.

  Was what Joy said true? If the Lord had forgiven him, wasn’t it time for him to let go of the chains from his past...to move forward, not only for himself, but for his boys? He’d brought her here with hopes of a new beginning for them. It was time to give her some good news. At least he hoped she would think it was good.

  * * *

  Joy clutched her stomach. The predinner conversation had been quite heavy, but nothing compared to the heaviness of the hot, buttered lobster. She picked up the cloth napkin and blotted her lips. “Oh, my, I’ve never had lobster that rich and scrumptious. It melts in your mouth.”

  Nick laughed as he speared a chunk of meat with his fork and soaked it in the butter. “I could eat this every night. Couldn’t you?”

  She blew out a heavy breath. “If I were a wealthy woman, because I’d have to buy a new wardrobe each month. I already feel three times larger than when I sat down.”

  “Are you kidding? You’re perfect. You haven’t changed a bit since we were in high school.”

  Little did he know—maybe on the outside she looke
d the same, but inside she was anything but the girl he once knew. Years of feeling inadequate took a toll on a person. On a good day, she felt as though there was nothing left of her heart but an empty shell. She forced the negative thoughts from her mind and was ready to change the subject. “So...when are you going to tell me about your interview?”

  His eyebrows arched. “I wasn’t sure whether you wanted to talk about it or not.”

  She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and smiled. “I can’t deny the reality of the situation, Nick. There’s one job and two candidates. You’ve had your opportunity to sell yourself, and soon I’ll have mine.”

  Nick ran his index finger down the side of his glass. “What would you say if we could both get what we want?”

  She inhaled a deep breath and slowly released. “I’m not really sure how that would be possible.”

  “Well, the interview got a little off track.”

  Joy crossed her arms and leaned back in the chair. “How so?”

  “I presented another option to Mr. Jacobson and Mrs. Dixon. I think they’re seriously giving it some consideration.”

  When the waitress approached, Joy held her tongue.

  “Are you two ready for dessert?” She smiled with her hands behind her back.

  The uncertainty of where this conversation was headed had caused her stomach to quiver. “Oh, none for me. Thank you, though.”

  Nick tossed her a huge grin. “Come on—we’ve got to have a piece of chocolate cake with chocolate coconut frosting.”

  He remembered. It had always been her favorite treat. Joy smiled, recalling the day Nick had knocked on her front door when she’d turned fifteen. He’d been holding a cake in his hands that he had baked from scratch. He’d been so proud of himself. Even though it was supposed to be three layers, it had been pretty much flat as a pancake. She hadn’t had the nerve to ask what had happened to the rest of it.