The Fortunate Ones

Our small French club started up pretty organically. We’ve met three times a week for the last two months, and I’m shocked at how quickly everyone’s been catching on. I’d always assumed children were my preferred students, but these women have been really fun so far. They’re all retired and dedicated to learning, so we’ve been tearing through workbooks and vocabulary, not to mention we’ve all agreed that if everyone can master a basic understanding of the French language by next summer, we’ll all take a trip to France so they can put their newfound knowledge to practice.

It’s the perfect arrangement for me. I have flexible hours, I still get to teach, and these women pay better than any of my previous gigs.

I stand and interrupt their conversations to let them know “class” has officially ended, though that usually doesn’t mean much. It’ll be another hour before everyone is out of the house, and I swear they do it on purpose in the hopes of catching James when he arrives home from work.

“Is that a car I hear in the driveway?” Mrs. Walters says, perking up in her chair.

“Oh! I bet James is home! It would be rude to leave now!” Mrs. Buchanan says with a wide smile.

I can’t help but laugh. “It should be Ellie coming over to help me make dinner.”

They all visibly sag in their chairs.

“But I’ll let James know you all missed him. Maybe he can make it home a little earlier on Friday.”

That gets me off the hook for the time being, and everyone stands and gathers their textbooks before heading to the front door. Ellie is already standing out front, holding the door open for them.

“Afternoon Ellie.” Mrs. Walters stops and pats her arm. “Are you sure I can’t set you up with my grandson?”

Ellie laughs. “He’s only 17, Mrs. Walters.”

“Only? Why, I was married at 17!”

They do this every time they see each other. Mrs. Walters thinks Ellie is the prettiest thing she’s ever seen, and she won’t rest until Ellie is dating her grandson—who, by the way, is currently in 11th grade.

“Tell him to send me a graduation announcement,” Ellie calls behind her before following me inside. “Maybe the life of a cougar will suit me.”

In the last few months, James and I have been slowly but surely settling into his house. His house—every time I say that, he insists I call it our house. I smile and shake my head at the thought that we’ve lived here together for three months. It’s still pretty empty because he insisted on hiring an interior designer. He wanted everything to be perfect for us, not just a hodgepodge of his old furniture mixed with some of my things, though my yellow bookshelf did make the cut. It’s sitting in one of the spare bedrooms, the room we’ve both agreed will make a good nursery one day.

“What’d you do today?” Ellie asks, whipping open the refrigerator and peeking inside for a snack.

“I went to SoulCycle this morning before I had to prep my lesson for French club. Oh, and Diego and Nicolás called.”

“How are they doing?” she asks, bending low to grab some string cheese.

“Good.” I sigh. “But Luciana still won’t talk to me.”

She frowns. “I can’t believe it. I really thought she’d forgive you by now.”

“Yeah, I thought so too.” I still think about her all the time. How could I not? For that year and a half I was in Spain, we spent most of our waking (and non-waking) hours together. I desperately want her to forgive me, but I can’t push it. “Anyway, part of why they called was because they’re still trying to find a good tutor. The girls haven’t been practicing their English as much, and they’re worried they’ll start to lose it.”

“Did you suggest they contact the agency?”

“No.” I nibble on my bottom lip. “Actually, I recommended you.”

She rears back in shock. “Me?”

I nod enthusiastically.

“But I don’t even speak Spanish.”

“You don’t have to! That’s the best part. The girls just need someone they can practice their English with. Seriously, Ellie, it’s the best job ever.”

It’s a brilliant idea if I’ve ever heard one. Ellie has been working at the country club for far too long, living with Dad and wasting time on guys who don’t deserve her. There’s nothing keeping her in Austin. She should take the opportunity to leave and try something new—not to mention, working for Diego and Nicolás is a dream.

“What’d they say when you suggested that?” she asks tentatively.

I beam. “They said if you want the position, it’s yours.”

Her brows shoot up in shock. “Seriously?”

“Yes!”

I can tell she’s not completely sold on the idea, and I’m nervous if I push too hard now, she’ll say no before she even gives it a real chance. “Just think about it for the next few days and get back to me.”