“Getting into a bigger college shouldn’t be a problem. He’s an intelligent young man. I assume he’s got a strong GPA.”
“Yes. But we still need to get our ducks in a row. Recommendation letters and such. And I just heard you’re going to be leaving Warner High.” She frowned. “Did I hear it right? You’re retiring?”
“That’s correct.” He nodded with a grim expression.
She frowned. “You look young.”
“Well, maybe ... but it’s time.”
“Congratulations ... I guess—I mean, if that’s what you want.” She studied him, wondering why he appeared melancholy, but controlled herself from asking. She knew her tendency to get overly involved sometimes, and this was not the time.
“Thank you.” He rubbed his chin. “I guess I’m still adjusting to the concept.”
“Well, life is about more than just work.”
“Yes, I suppose so.” He frowned.
Willow studied him for a long moment. Something about Mr. Emerson seemed sad and vulnerable ... almost like a little boy in need of a warm, reassuring hug. And at the same time, she could tell that he was uncomfortable, as if he wanted her to keep a safe distance. “Anyway,” she saidquickly, “the reason I came here today was to personally ask you for a recommendation letter for Collin.”
He slowly nodded, but there was a faraway look in his eyes, almost as if he wasn’t really listening. Perhaps he had health problems. Maybe that was his reason for early retirement—not that she planned to probe. At least she hoped not.
“You see, you’re his favorite teacher,” she continued. “And if you could write a nice letter, I can make copies. You know, to include in Collin’s application packets in the event that he applies to some larger colleges. I suppose I’m hoping he’ll soon become disenchanted with community college.” She leaned forward slightly, trying to discern if Mr. Emerson was really on board or simply lost in his own thoughts.
“Yes, yes.” His dark eyes lit up. “That sounds like a good plan. Sensible.”
She felt relieved. “Collin truly is fond of you, Mr. Emerson. He’s mentioned you a lot. And he loves his English classes. Whether it’s reading or writing or whatever. He actually hopes to be an English major. I’m not sure that’s a very useful degree, but I’ve always encouraged him to follow his dreams. And you may already know that he loves to write. He writes short stories and poems—just for his own entertainment.” She paused to catch her breath, worried that she was gushing.
“Yes, I’ve noticed he’s a strong writer. That caught my attention early on.”
“Oh, good.” She set her overloaded macramé handbag on a desk with a heavy thud and sighed deeply. “So you’ll help us then? I mean, him—you’ll helphim?”
“I’d be honored to write a letter for Collin.”
“Oh, thank you—thank you!” Once again, she resisted theurge to embrace him. With his proper manners and buttoned-up appearance, she felt certain Mr. Emerson was not a hugger. Although she could be wrong. For his sake, she hoped she was wrong. “I was so worried about showing up like this, straight out of the blue,” she confessed. “Without an appointment, I mean. I’m obviously from a different era. They never had armed guards all over the schools back in my day. To be honest, this place felt more like a reformatory than a high school to me today.”
“I’ve actually had similar thoughts.” He looked almost amused.
She waved her hand around. “Can you believe I actually went to high schoolhere? Ages ago, of course. But I’m a Warner High graduate. Well, barely.” She felt her cheeks growing warm to remember how she’d marched up to receive her diploma while pregnant. Not that she planned to disclose that.
“Really?” His brow creased. “You went to schoolhere?”
“Yep. I was a Warner Wolverine.” She chuckled. “I graduated in—”
“So was I. A graduate, I mean. Class of 1980.”
“No kidding? I was ’81.” She blinked, trying to recall anyone by the name Emerson. Then, realizing she hadn’t properly introduced herself, she stuck out her hand. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you my name. I’m Willow West and—”
“WillowWildWest?”His hand covered his mouth as if embarrassed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Please, excuse me.”
“That’s okay.” She gave him an uneasy smile. “It’s true, I was a bit of a wild child in high school. I’m sure the word got around. But I eventually grew up.” She rolled her eyes.“Well, mostly. I suppose I don’t ever want to grow up completely. And the truth is that my own grandson still calls me a hippie.” She rolled up her sleeve to show him the faded rose tattoo on her forearm. “He calls this mygramp-stamp.” She laughed loudly. “From back in my glory days. I was even younger than Collin when I got this and he thinks I was crazy. I suppose the good news is that Collin has absolutely no interest in doing anything illegal. He’d never get tattooed. Not that I’d mind so much if he did. Sometimes I wish he’d lighten up. Not necessarily with tats.” She sighed as she pulled her sleeve back down.
“I know they’re painful to remove.” He folded his arms across his front. “Not from experience, mind you.”
“No, of course not. You don’t really look like the tattoo type, Mr. Emerson.” She tipped her head to one side. “But I still can’t place you. Youreallywent to school here?”
“I’d be surprised if you did remember me.” His tone was solemn. “I was pretty quiet. Certainly not part of your crowd. Although my best friend Greg Walters mixed with—”
“I do remember Greg Walters! And now I remember you too. You’reGeorgeEmerson.” She peered curiously at him. “I thought you looked familiar and, come to think of it, you haven’t even changed that much. As I recall, you were rather standoffish then. Studious and serious. But Greg was fun. He really came out of his shell in high school. Whatever happened to him? Does he still live in Warner?”
