Willow sighed. If only they’d had more time ... more warning. “I understand how you feel, but I thought we couldhave a quiet little dinner with them before we go to baccalaureate. We’ll have to keep it short and sweet.”
“I told Marissa I’d take her out for tacos and then we’d go to baccalaureate together,” he explained. “I planned to meet up with you afterward.”
“Oh.” Willow felt dismayed. “Well, I guess that’s okay. Maybe we can spend some time with your mother and Garth tomorrow. You don’t have school.”
“I don’t have school because it’s senior skip day,” he reminded her. “I told Marissa that we’d bike out to the lake and rent some kayaks.”
“That sounds nice.” Willow tried to think of an alternative plan. “Well, how about if I plan a little celebration foraftergraduation?”
“But Marissa and I plan to go to the all-night party.”
Willow was actually glad to hear he was engaging in all these social activities—and knew that it was probably thanks to Marissa. Still, it made Josie’s visit here rather awkward. “But I thought the all-night party didn’t start until ten,” Willow said. “Couldn’t you spend a little time with us before that? You could bring Marissa too. And maybe invite some of your other friends.”
“Yeah, I have so many friends,” he said sarcastically.
“Well, you could invite Spencer and Will. And I’ll invite some friends,” she told him. “I know Leslie and Joel would like to come. And the weather forecast is good—we could hold the party out on the terrace. You know how pretty it is up there with all the patio lights in the evening. I’ll bet Marissa would like it too.”
“Okay,” he reluctantly agreed. “I’ll ask Marissa and Spencer and Will.”
“Thanks, Collin. I’ll get right on it. And I’ll see you at baccalaureate.” As she hung up, she felt relieved. It would actually be easier not to deal with this tonight. And tomorrow, well, it was a new day. Hopefully it would all work out by then.
nine
George hadn’t really planned to attend the baccalaureate service or graduation, but at the last minute he decided it might be a nice way to end his career. A way to say farewell to his students. Not that anyone would notice. But he hadn’t been to one of these ceremonies in years and this would be his last chance to participate as a faculty member. Why not go for it?
George suspected that most attendees would be dressed in today’s ultra-casual style—aka T-shirts, flip-flops, and holey jeans—since most of his students’ parents didn’t dress much differently than their kids these days. Even so, George decided on his lightweight gray suit. It would be warm in the gymnasium, but he wouldn’t feel comfortable in anything else.
As he adjusted his navy tie in the living room, he stared absently at the painting now hanging above his sofa. It had been kind of Willow ... but his feelings toward the artwork were decidedly split. On one hand, this large, colorful painting felt like an unwelcome intruder in his calm andunderstated space, the sort of thing he would normally refuse and reject. But on the other hand, that old pickup was almost exactly like the one his brother had driven in high school. It was uncanny. Certainly Alex’s truck had been in better shape than this one. At least it had been back then. But, unless George was mistaken, the pickup in the painting was the same model and year. Even the color was the same. Alex had loved that pickup. He and Grandpa had worked hard to restore it. And George had been only seven, but he’d loved the pickup too. He still remembered riding around town in it with his big brother that last summer. Before heading off to boot camp Alex and Grandpa had placed the pickup on blocks to remove the shiny chrome wheels and tires, so that they’d be in good shape when Alex came home. Except that Alex never came home ... and the pickup was eventually sold.
George felt a lump in his throat. He couldn’t remember such an emotional day. Not in years. He attributed it to his retirement. After all, it was the end of an era. Best to take everything in stride, take a deep breath and just keep moving. Attending baccalaureate would provide a good distraction for him. Well, unless he broke down in tears there. That would be humiliating.
He checked his watch to see it was still a bit early to head out, but he wanted a good seat. For him that meant on the aisle in a lower row. George disliked sitting in the bleachers almost as much as he disliked being stuck in the midst of a crowd. He suspected he suffered from claustrophobia, because he hated tight spaces. An overly crowded room always felt unbearably hot to him—even in winter. And it always felt like there was insufficient air. During school assemblies,he would simply stand on the sidelines, as if to guard the exit, until the program ended.
George stepped outside, locked his front door and, as usual, checked it twice. He glanced furtively over his shoulder to see if Lorna was lurking nearby. To his relief, she was nowhere to be seen. So he slipped down the front steps and headed off to the high school. It was a balmy evening, warm enough that he should’ve worn a summer-weight suit. But if he wanted to get a good seat, it was too late to go back and change.
Not many people were in the gymnasium by the time he arrived, and to his relief it was still fairly cool. He knew how hot and steamy it would become before the service was over. Especially up in the nosebleed seats. But a number of smart people, like him, had arrived early to secure the best seats. Many of them were elderly or unable to scale the bleacher steps, and already the bottom row was filling up.
George exchanged greetings with a couple of fellow teachers then took an aisle seat in the second row, close to the rear exit. To fill the time, he proceeded to read the program. If he’d had a pen on him, he might’ve edited it. Only a few tiny typos, but it didn’t reflect well on the academia of the school. Well, he doubted many people would notice. Certainly not the students. And probably not their parents, either.
George watched as people began pouring into the gymnasium. A few hurried to get seats, and his bleacher row was quickly filling up, but most of the people looked uncertain, meandering about with questioning looks until an usher pointed them in a specific direction. But it was the woman in the white lacy dress that caught George’s eye. Her beads,bracelets, and earrings made for a gypsy-like appearance, but the porcelain complexion and strawberry-blonde hair piled carelessly on her head suggested something altogether different.
George was caught off guard when Willow lifted her hand. Was that wave meant for him? Had he been staring at her? Had she noticed? George gave a cautious wave and Willow’s face broke into a wide smile as she came directly over. “Room for one more?” she asked pleasantly.
“Certainly.” He stood and moved aside so she could sit down. He knew that was the gentlemanly thing to do, but in all honesty he simply wanted to preserve his spot on the aisle. And now that his row was full, he needn’t worry. “How are you doing?” he asked politely.
“I’m fine, thank you. Although it’s been a busy day.”
“Lots going with graduation preparations?”
“Yes. And then my daughter showed up out of the blue. That sort of threw me for a loop.”
“Your daughter? Is that Collin’s mother?”
“Yes. She and her boyfriend arrived this afternoon. I wasn’t expecting them and didn’t have anything ready.” She fanned herself with the program. “I’ve been scrambling to get it together. Getting them bedding and linens and whatnot. Then making a fast grocery store run. My, it feels good to sit down.”
“Are they here?”
She explained they’d been up all night and were too tired, but he suspected by her expression that she had her doubts. “They’ll come to graduation tomorrow.”
