The Hero's Redemption
“And what did I do but bring you goodies.” Erin held out the container with the result of her morning’s labor. “At least I didn’t bake cupcakes.”
Michelle giggled. “I’d have eaten those, too. Give me anything sweet. And these look divine.”
Over coffee and cookies—Erin managed to restrict herself to only one more—the two women talked. Michelle had taught sixth grade until her son was born, and she and Ryan decided she’d stay home until their children started school themselves. “It’s been a luxury,” she said, “but I have to admit I’m looking forward to getting back in the classroom. I’ve taught third through sixth grades, but my favorite was the sixth grade. They’re children one minute, budding teenagers the next. Awkward, excited, silly.” She smiled. “Here I am, going on and on. Ryan didn’t say what you do for a living.”
“At the moment, nothing,” Erin admitted, then hesitated. Since coming to West Fork, she had yet to tell a single person other than Cole what had happened. She and Michelle had the potential for real friendship—but not if she lied now. She drew a deep breath. “I was a college professor. I taught history and coached women’s volleyball and softball.”
“You must have a PhD.”
“I do. But…I don’t know if I can ever go back.” She swallowed. “You see, I was driving my volleyball team to a match when…something happened.”
By the time she finished, Erin was crying and apologizing all at once. “I’m so sorry! I thought I could tell you without falling apart.” She started to stand. “I should go.” Apparently, she hadn’t secured last night’s floodgates when she closed them.
“No.” Michelle’s hand on her arm stopped her. “Please don’t.”
Erin slowly sank back onto the kitchen chair. She sniffled and wiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand until Michelle held out a napkin.
“This will work better.”
“Thank you.” She blew her nose hard, mopped up and finally crushed the paper napkin. “I’m a mess.”
“And no wonder,” Michelle said. “It’s only been—what?—seven months? And look what you’ve accomplished on your grandmother’s house! Has the work been therapeutic?”
“It has. I suppose that’s what I had in mind. Plus—” she grimaced “—I wanted to go home, and this was the closest thing I had. I just wish Nanna was still alive.”
She ended up telling Michelle about losing her parents, too, after which the other woman said thoughtfully, “When you’ve suffered that much loss, being handed more must’ve hit you even harder than it otherwise would have.”
Erin stared at her. That had never occurred to her, but…it sounded right. She’d isolated herself in her grieving when she hadn’t needed to. She’d spent holidays with Nanna, but never let herself understand that Nanna, too, had lost her family. First her only child, then her husband. All she’d had left was Erin, who wished now that they’d talked more. But that hadn’t been Nanna’s way. She…accepted, instead of bewailing. Like I’ve been doing.
“That’s…possible,” she said. She cleared her throat. “Have you ever thought of becoming a school counselor? You seem to have a knack.”
Michelle grinned. “If you’re going to spend all day in the company of preteens, you have to be prepared for a lot of angst and drama.”
Seeing the humor in it, Erin had to laugh. “I’m giving you a reminder of what you’ll face this fall.”
The other woman shrugged. “Assuming anyone hires me. I’ve got a bunch of applications out there, but I’m still waiting.”
Half an hour later, Erin walked home, feeling cleansed. Having a friend again would be good, and instinct said that, despite her having broken down in tears, Michelle wouldn’t fuss over her emotional state the way college friends had. She was refreshingly different.
I hope.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“I WOULD’VE BEEN fine with Erin joining us.” Dani studied Cole with eyes as blue as his.