A Bend in the Road

Behind them, a white pickup truck began backing out. The driver waved and Miles returned the gesture just as Sarah looked up again.

"You know him?"

"It's a small town. It seems like I know everyone."

"That must be comforting."

"Sometimes it is, other times it isn't. If you've got secrets, this isn't the place for you, that's for sure."

For a moment, Sarah wondered if he was talking about himself. Before she could dwell on it, Miles went on.

"Hey, I want to thank you again for everything you're doing for Jonah."

"You don't have to thank me every time you see me."

"I know. It's just that I've noticed a big change in him these last few weeks."

"So have I. He's catching up pretty quickly, even faster than I thought he would. He actually started reading aloud in class this week."

"I'm not surprised. He's got a good teacher."

To Miles's surprise, Sarah actually blushed. "He's got a good father, too."

He liked that.

And he liked the look she'd given him when she'd said it.

As if uncertain what to do next, Sarah fiddled with her keys. She selected one and unlocked her front door. As she swung the door open, Miles stepped back slightly.

"So, how much longer do you think he'll need to keep staying after school?" he asked.

Keep talking. Don't let her leave yet.

"I'm not sure yet. A while, for sure. Why? Do you want to start cutting back a little?"

"No," he continued. "I was just curious."

She nodded, waiting to see if he'd add anything else, but he didn't. "Okay," she finally said. "We'll keep going like we are and see how he's doing in another month. Is that all right?"

Another month. He'd continue to see her for at least that long. Good.

"Sounds like a plan," he agreed.

For a long moment neither of them said anything, and in the silence Sarah glanced at her watch. "Listen, I'm running a little late," she said apologetically, and Miles nodded.

"I know--you've got to go," he said, not wanting her to leave just yet. He wanted to keep talking. He wanted to learn everything he could about her.

What you really mean is that it's time to ask her out.

And no chickening out this time. No hanging up the phone, no putzing around.

Bite the bullet!

Be a man!

Go for it!

He steeled himself, knowing he was ready... but... but... how should he do it? Good Lord, it had been a long time since he had been in a situation like this. Should he suggest dinner or lunch? Or maybe a movie? Or...? As Sarah started to climb in her car, his mind was sorting and searching frantically, trying to come up with ways to prolong her time with him long enough to figure it out. "Wait--before you go--can I ask you something?" he blurted out.

"Sure." She looked at him quizzically.

Miles put his hands in his pockets, feeling those little butterflies, feeling seventeen again. He swallowed.

"So...," he began. His mind was racing, those little wheels spinning for everything they were worth.

"Yes?"

Sarah knew instinctively what was coming.

Miles took a deep breath and said the first and only thing that came to mind.

"How's the fan working out?"

She stared at him, a perplexed expression on her face. "The fan?" she repeated.

Miles felt as if he'd just swallowed a ton of lead. The fan? What the hell was he thinking? The fan? That was all he could come up with?

It was as if his brain had suddenly taken a vacation, but for the life of him, he couldn't stop....

"Yeah. You know ... the fan that I got you for your class."

"It's fine," she said uncertainly.

"Because I can get you a new one if you don't like it."

She reached out to touch his arm, a look of concern on her face. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said seriously. "I just wanted to make sure you're happy with it."

"You picked a good one, okay?"

"Good," he said, hoping and praying that a bolt of lightning would suddenly shoot from the heavens and kill him on the spot.

The fan?

After she pulled out of the parking lot, Miles stood without moving, wishing that he could turn back the clock and undo everything that had just happened. He wanted to find the nearest rock to crawl under, a nice dark spot where he could hide from the world forever. Thank God no one was around to hear it!

Except for Sarah.

For the rest of the day, the end of their conversation kept repeating in his head, like a song he'd heard on early morning radio.

How's the fan working out? ... Because I can get you a new one ... I just want to make sure you're happy with it. . . .

It was painful, physically painful, to recall it. And no matter what else he did that afternoon, the memory would lurk there under the surface, waiting to emerge and humiliate him. And on the following day, it was the same thing. He woke up with the feeling that something was wrong... something... and boom! There was the memory again, taunting him. He winced and felt the lead in his gut. And then he pulled the pillow over his head.

Chapter 8

So how do you like it so far?" Brenda asked.

It was Monday, and Brenda and Sarah were sitting at the picnic table outside, the same one that Miles and Sarah had visited a month earlier. Brenda had picked up lunch from the Pollock Street Deli, which in Brenda's opinion, made the best sandwiches in town. "It'll give us a chance to visit," she'd said with a wink, before running out to the deli.

Though this wasn't the first time they'd had the chance to "visit," as Brenda put it, their conversations had usually been relatively short and impersonal: where supplies were stored, whom she needed to talk to to get a couple of new desks, things like that. Of course, Brenda had also been the one whom Sarah had first asked about Jonah and Miles, and because she knew Brenda was close to them, she also understood that this lunch was Brenda's attempt to find out what, if anything, was going on.

"You mean working at the school? It's different from the classes I had in Baltimore, but I like it."

"You worked in the inner city, right?"

"I worked in downtown Baltimore for four years."

"How was that?"

Sarah unwrapped her sandwich. "Not as bad as you probably think. Kids are kids, no matter where they're from, especially when they're young. The neighborhood might have been rough, but you kind of get used to it and you learn to be careful. I never had any trouble at all. And the people I worked with were great. It's easy to look at test scores and think the teachers don't care, but that's not the way it is. There were a lot of people I really looked up to."

"How did you decide to work there? Was your ex-husband a teacher, too?"

"No," she said simply.

Brenda saw the pain in Sarah's eyes for a moment, but almost as quickly as she noticed it, it was gone.

Sarah opened her can of Diet Pepsi. "He's an investment banker. Or was ... I don't know what he does these days. Our divorce wasn't exactly amicable, if you know what I mean."

"I'm sorry to hear that," she said, "and I'm sorrier I brought it up."

"Don't be. You didn't know." She paused before forming a lazy smile. "Or did you?" she asked.

Brenda's eyes widened. "No, I didn't know."

Sarah looked at her expectantly.

"Really," Brenda said again.

"Nothing?"

Brenda shifted slightly in her seat. "Well, maybe I did hear a couple of things," she admitted sheepishly, and Sarah laughed.

"I thought so. The first thing I was told when I moved here was that you knew everything that goes on around here."

"I don't know everything," Brenda said, feigning indignation. "And despite what you may have heard about me, I don't repeat everything I do know. If someone tells me to keep something to myself, I do." She tapped her ear with her finger a

nd lowered her voice. "I know things about people that would make your head spin around like you're in dire need of an exorcism," she said, "but if it's said in confidence, I keep it that way."

"Are you saying this so I'll trust you?"

"Of course," she said. She glanced around, then leaned across the table. "Now dish up."

Sarah grinned and Brenda waved a hand as she went on. "I'm kidding, of course. And in the future--since we do work together--keep in mind that I won't get my feelings hurt if you tell me I've gone too far. Sometimes I blurt out questions without really thinking, but I don't do it to hurt people. I really don't."

"Fair enough," Sarah said, satisfied.

Brenda picked up her sandwich. "And since you're new in town and we don't know each other that well, I won't ask anything that might seem too personal."

"I appreciate that."

"Besides, it's not really my business anyway."