“Are you nervous?”I glide my hand slowly down Sunny’s ponytail as she looks out the passenger side window.
“Kind of.” She shrugs her shoulders and looks back at me, her soft smile not reaching her eyes. “What if no one talks to me? What if they hate me?”
“Hate you? That’s not possible. You’re a ray of sunshine — even your name says it.” I wink and tug her hair, and she responds in true Sunny fashion with an exaggerated eye roll.
“Whatever.”
“I’m serious. You have nothing to worry about. You’re fun and pretty, smarter than any other kid I know. And with your quick wit, bullies don’t stand a chance. Anyone who comes at you will get a verbal lashing of epic proportion.” I slide my hand around her shoulder and squeeze lightly.
Sunny’s looking down at her lap, ringing her hands together. “I know. I just miss my friends and my school. I miss home.”
“I know, hun. I miss home, too. Try not to be nervous about making new friends — just be yourself. Your first few days might bea little uncomfortable, but you’ll get the hang of things. Do you want me to walk in with you?”
Suddenly she snaps her head up and glares at me. “Not a chance. I’m nine, not five.” I laugh at her sass.
“I know, goof. You remember where your class is? That tour we took Friday was seriously information overload.” Sunny laughs. There’s that smile.
“Yeah, Monty. I know where to go.”
“Alright, kiddo. Skidaddle. You’re going to make me late formyfirst day if I don’t head that way now.”
Sunny grabs her backpack from between her legs, opens the car door, and slings the pack over her shoulder before turning to look at me. “Love you, Monty.”
“Love you, Sunshine. See you after school. I’ll be the crazy one yelling obscenities because I can’t figure out the carpool line. Can’t miss me.”
Sunny shakes her head as she turns and walks toward the school building.
I wish you could see how grown up she is, sis. She looks just like you and she’s just as awesome.
When I pull into the campus parking lot I’m pleased to find a handful of open parking spots near the sidewalk. Hopefully this lack of overfill is the norm. I step out into the perfect August weather and make my way to meet Dr. Matthews.
Clothes still wrinkle-free? Check.
Teeth still white post-coffee? Check.
Messenger bag with laptop? Check.
Matching shoes? Check. Yes, I have been known to walk out of the house wearing two different shoes. Come at me.
Taking a deep breath, I open the door to the faculty office building and quietly make my way to the directory. Dr. Matthews is on the second floor, Pod C. Got it.
The building has an elevator, but I prefer the open stairs so I turn to walk up them. This building is silent, except the echoes of people walking on the hardwood floor. I opted for my new flats today. Nosense in trying to look sexy-chic when surrounded by English nerds, am I right? I’d probably break my ankle anyway.
Once I make it up the stairs, I head toward Pod C.
“Hi, I’m Alis Gilmore, here to see Dr. Matthews.” The secretary looks up at me with a warm smile. She looks so much like my grandma, I’d be concerned they were long lost sisters if my grandmother wasn’t about the same age as this woman when she died fifteen years ago. Her name plate reads Amelia Murphy.
Amelia, that’s a pretty name. Grandma’s name was Analise, so they both start with an A. God, I miss that woman.
“Hello, dear. Dr. Matthews is expecting you. You’re a bit early, so why don’t you have a seat. Would you like some coffee or tea while you wait? I’ll let her know you’ve arrived.” She’s as sweet as Grandma, too. This lady might be my new best friend.
“Nothing to drink, thank you. I’m fine.”
“Alright, dear. You just let me know if you change your mind.” She gives me one last smile, then adjusts her glasses and looks back to her computer monitor to continue working. This gives me a few minutes to study her features.
Her gray hair is styled in a twist, and her round face is soft. I can see lines near her eyes and mouth, a sure sign of a joy-filled life. I wonder if any of the picture frames on her L-shaped desk are of her children and grandchildren? Her pearl earrings are small and dainty, and complement her delicate, gold-rimmed glasses. Oh, and would you look at that — her wedding ring has a pearl center stone instead of the traditional diamond. Stunning. This woman is simply stunning.
A door opens to the left and out walks Dr. Abigail Matthews, senior professor of English and American Literature. Her straight dark blonde bob, flowing silk blouse, and wide-legged trousers give her a professional, yet approachable look—but the bold red lipstick screams powerhouse. She’s a woman effortlessly in charge, and she’s not afraid to show it.
