“To be honest, Missy, I’d do it again.” And she would. “Sometimes you have to fight for the things you care about.”
Missy seemed to consider that. “So, you think I should fight for Ryan?”
“Well…” Julia wasn’t getting sucked in again. She’d already done enough damage by trying to give a kid advice. “That’s up to you. Just think about it.”
“I will. Thanks, Mrs. Holmes. You’re the best.”
Before Julia could say anything more, Missy headed to the door and probably straight to the restroom to fix her makeup. Ah, the resilience of youth.
Julia returned to her desk and sank into her chair, wishing she were as resilient as Missy. She stared at the letter, not really seeing it, not needing to read the words. Despite what she’d told Missy, she could lose her job.
She looked out the window of her classroom. From the third floor, she could see most of Parilton, Pennsylvania, with its clapboard houses and tree-lined streets. The dark silhouette of the Winding Trail Mine sat at the edge of town, mother hen and vulture all in one. Just as it overshadowed the town, it touched every life in Parilton, including hers.
Her husband, Linc, was working up there today, as he’d been, on and off, for several weeks. New equipment going in meant inspection after inspection, all his responsibility. It was another in a long list of things that kept him away from home.
She’d hardly seen him in weeks, it seemed. She missed him, and that knowledge bothered her more than she wanted it to. What was worse was the realization that she had to talk to Linc about the letter. About the whole mess.
She’d finally have to tell him about the job change she’d made last month. She’d meant to tell him about it earlier but had never quite found the right moment. She knew she should have tried harder—waited up when he came in late, woken him before she left in the morning, or found a way to meet for lunch.
But she hadn’t quite figured out what to say, or how to explain it to him. She didn’t even understand it herself. And since they barely spoke these days anyway, keeping silent was just easier.
Until today, she’d thought it was the right decision.
Friday Morning, 5:30 a.m.
THE ALARM CLATTERED at oh-dark-thirty. Julia rolled over and smacked the off button, hoping she’d permanently disabled the thing. She opened one eyelid then slammed it shut again
She did not want to face today.
Linc’s even breathing broke the quiet of the room, and she turned to look at him in the dim morning light. She’d tried to stay awake last night to talk to him, but the long hours and stress had taken their toll. Either she had become so used to Linc coming in late, or he was getting better at being quiet.
Maybe she’d wait until tomorrow, when they were both home and not working, to tell him. After she knew the results of tonight’s meeting. No, that would only make matters worse.
“Hey,” she said softly and waited. No answer. She said it again, louder.
“You say something?” he mumbled.
“Yeah. Are you awake?” She waited for him to wake enough to understand what she was saying. He didn’t stir and she knew she’d lost the battle. Rather than try again, Julia climbed out of bed, throwing the covers aside and silently hoping the cool air would startle him awake.
For a long moment, Julia stared down at the mussed bed and grieved the loss of the days when she’d wake him early for an entirely different purpose. With a sigh, she abandoned those thoughts and headed downstairs to make breakfast. She needed something to do to keep her mind and hands busy.
She threw on her robe, letting it hang open, the belt trailing behind. What was the point of looking presentable when she was alone with no one to appreciate her? She shook her head; she needed coffee to chase away the pity party in her mind.
Bitter caffeine, tempered by sugar and cream, caressed her tongue. She stood at the kitchen window and gazed over the rim of her coffee cup at the house across the street. The neighbors were a young couple. All their windows were still dark. Were they asleep? Or had morning come for them as well and their bed was still cozy and inviting? She closed her eyes…wishing.
Wishing for what?
For those early days of her marriage before every moment was a struggle? The days before they’d started talking about a family?
She heard the footstep an instant before warm, strong arms stole around her waist.
“You were saying something?” Linc’s voice was thick with sleep, but she sighed in relief. He’d heard her. On some level he’d been listening.
“Yeah.”
He waited. She took a deep breath.
“I…I quit my job at the elementary school,” she finally whispered.
Linc went absolutely still against her. Julia wasn’t even sure she felt him breathing.
“What? Why?” He came around to face her. She missed the warmth he’d provided. She looked up at him. He frowned and leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his bare chest. She couldn’t help but drink in the view of the lightly tanned plains and valleys sprinkled with dark hair. The jeans he’d hastily thrown on hung low on his hips.
But the warmth that had been in his body didn’t show on his face. She shivered and looked down at her coffee. “I can’t do it anymore.”
“Can’t do what? Teach?”
“No. Not teach. I have another job. I can’t be around the little ones.” Her voice broke on the last words.
“Another job? Where?”
Now she knew she had to look at him. “I’ve been teaching at the high school for the past month. I’m subbing for an English teacher who’s out on maternity leave.”
His frown deepened and a flush swept up his face. “A month?” He moved away from the counter and paced away from her. “When were you going to tell me?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t intend not to tell you. I just didn’t know how to bring it up. You’re so busy—”
“That’s no excuse.”
“I know that.”
The stiff way he held himself told her she’d hit a nerve. They’d never kept secrets before—before last fall when the whole world had fallen apart.
“There’s more,” Julia said softly, staring out the window instead of at Linc’s bare chest. She wished he owned a robe. Maybe she’d get him one for Christmas. Why was she thinking about that now? She knew she was avoiding this, avoiding talking to him. She didn’t want to discuss the hurt that had never gone away.
“Oh, this should be good.”
His sarcasm irritated her. He’d been sarcastic a lot lately. “Stop it.” She stepped farther away from him. “I don’t want to argue again. I know I should have told you sooner and I’m sorry about that, but what’s done is done,” she said, throwing his favorite phrase back at him. “I don’t know how much longer I’ll have this job.” Her voice broke, but she refused to give in to her emotions. Not now.
“What does that mean?” At least the sarcasm was gone.
She swallowed hard. “Yesterday I…I received a letter of reprimand from the school board. They…they are reviewing my contract at tonight’s meeting.” This time there was no hiding the hurt in her voice. She didn’t want his pity. She just wanted him to listen for a change.
“Why?” He