Her Holiday Reunion
Author
Cheryl Harper
Reads
19.3K
Chapters
20
CHAPTER ONE
MIRA PETERS PACED in front of the classroom full of tenth-graders as she waited for the last bell of the afternoon to ring. Most of them were dividing their time between staring at her and watching the clock. One final check of the time convinced her to start the exit procedure immediately. Her class was about two minutes away from freedom and Christmas break. They were like a combustible chemical reaction, bubbling with energy, ready to escape.
“Everyone pass your tests forward to the front of your row.” Mira was impressed with how well they followed directions. At the beginning of the semester, that had not been true. What a difference a few months and consistency made. “Push your chairs under your tables before you leave, please.”
The bell rang and the thunderous rumble of chairs and feet was punctuated by occasional screeches as twenty-five teens grabbed books and bags and rushed for the door. “Enjoy your break. Grades will be posted next week. In January, we’ll study genetics!” She’d raised her voice, but it was a waste of energy. No one was listening, even if it was possible that she could be heard.
Then they were gone. It was quiet and peaceful again.
“A narrow escape. You could have been trampled,” drawled Linda Burns, the retiring teacher who’d been partnered with Mira. Teaching her first semester of biology had been bumpy, mainly because of changing state guidelines, too many duties and not enough money for supplies and resources, but it was also exactly everything Mira had dreamed of, thanks to Linda.
Linda was a teaching veteran who’d spent thirty years navigating the pressures of the system. She’d seen it all, done it all, and nothing shocked her anymore. She patted her hand over her salt-and-pepper curls. “Learn to observe from a safe distance, kid. Workers’ compensation won’t cover stampede injuries.”
Mira dipped her chin and ruffled her stack of papers. “I’ve seen war zones, Linda. Africa. Afghanistan. My family’s fight for the last of the kulkuls at Christmas. I can handle two dozen kids.”
Linda frowned. “Kulkuls. Those doughnut bites you brought for the potluck, right? I loved those.”
Mira tilted her head to the side as she considered the description. She couldn’t come up with a better one, even though Linda’s didn’t encompass the amount of work that had gone into making them, so she nodded as she hustled around Linda.
Faint jingles rang with every step. They were both wearing their best attempt at Christmas finery. Linda’s T-shirt said, “Don’t make me put you on my naughty list” and showed a disgruntled Santa holding up a long scroll. Mira’s sweatshirt had thirty jingling bells attached, each one in the center of a felt snowflake.
“Air force medic. Sure. I get it. You know how to fight.” Linda nodded. “But these kids? They do not know or follow the Geneva Convention. Take no prisoners? That’s a phrase invented by a high school science teacher after one too many chemistry explosions.”
Mira had to laugh. “I guess it’s a good thing I haven’t faced any chemistry experiments yet. I need to build up my thick skin and buy protective goggles.”
“Yes, you do,” Linda agreed. “The sooner you learn that lesson, the better. Here, the only weapons you have are your mouth and sharp wit. Sometimes, your opponent is mouthier and sharper.” She held up the remote to turn off the projector.
Were her students opponents? Linda framed every day as a battle. Mira was still new enough to hope everyone in her classroom was on the same side of the fight. Linda had never mouthed off to a drill instructor, neither had Mira, but some of her best friends had struggled with authority and come through on the other side. These kids would, too, if Mira was good at her job.
“Big plans for the holiday break?” Linda asked.
Waving the stack of papers before she shoved them into a tote bag, Mira said, “Grading tests. Recording those grades. Working on lesson plans for next semester so you can review them when we get back. Packing up to move.” It was a lot to accomplish. This was what she’d been working for, the second career she’d planned while she was deployed and wondering if she’d make it home. A classroom like this had been her daydream when the heat and sand had driven her to the edge.
Then, more than once, she’d imagined how satisfying it would be to grade tests and write bright red scores across the top, visual proof of the success of the important work teaching children.
Some of these kids would learn only what they needed to in order to pass the state-required standardized testing, while others would fall in love with biology and a few would make it all the way through medical school to save lives, discover cures and fulfill Mira’s original career plans of becoming a doctor.
The plans she’d made when she’d been the same age as the kids in her current class.
If any of them eventually mentioned meeting with military recruiters or enlisting, Mira would employ every single bit of her wits to make sure they knew what they were getting into. Air force life was good, but it wasn’t easy.
If she was learning the same thing about teaching and civilian life, well... She still had hope.
“And?” Linda drawled. “Homework. Housework. There has to be more than that.”
“Running?” Mira said, although it was more a question than an answer. She was sure Linda wouldn’t accept that as a suitable activity for her holiday break. If she was being honest, it had lost some of its challenge, too.
Linda’s gusty sigh was confirmation. “Listen, Peters.” She used her last name like every air force squad and veterans group she’d ever come across, not to mention the pack of friends Mira had collected since her air force retirement. Linda did answer to her first name, but only because Mira refused to use her last. “Work and working out? You gotta find something else. If you don’t set good boundaries now, this job will eat you alive. Get a hobby. Get a boyfriend. Get a dog. I don’t know which you need the most, but hear me now or believe me later.” Linda raised her eyebrows to demonstrate how seriously she wanted her advice taken.
“How are you spending your time off?” Mira asked sweetly. She bent to check her emails on her computer to make sure she hadn’t gotten any questions from parents or students regarding the end-of-the-year schedule.
When there was no answer, Mira glanced up. Linda’s lips were pursed tightly in displeasure. So, her plans were as simple as Mira’s.
“Do as I say, not as I do, young’un.” Linda pressed a hand to her hip as she stood slowly. “I put off all those things until I hit retirement. Now that it’s here, this part hurts, that part doesn’t work so well, and I’m too tired for the rest of it. As the Bard said, ‘Seize the day.’” She sauntered toward the door.
“I’m not sure that was Shakespeare. Carpe diem. He didn’t write in Latin,” Mira murmured as she shut down her computer and pulled the tote straps over her shoulder. The heft of those papers and her files was satisfying, and some of the promise of two weeks away from school was bubbling up.
“Good thing I teach science instead of English or Latin, then.” Linda paused at the doorway. “You’re doing good, kid. Remember you’re in this for the long haul. These kids need good teachers like you and me.” Her lips curled slowly before she disappeared down the hall to her office.
Mira shook her head as she followed Linda. She stopped to survey her classroom. She’d cleared the whiteboard at the front of the room while everyone was finishing the test, so it was ready for the next lesson. The students’ desks were fairly neat. The plants that lined the high cabinets along the back wall had been watered. Indiana Bones, the human skeleton model that she hadn’t used yet, had a hand raised in a jaunty farewell. It was either a greeting or goodbye, depending on which way she was going, and Mira loved it. One of the kids had added a Santa hat to make him more festive. Mira had never discovered which student was responsible, but she hadn’t tried too hard.
Everything about her classroom was perfect.
She waved at the other teachers who were getting ready to leave.
Maneuvering Miami’s Friday busy afternoon traffic was easier this early in the rush hour, but it was always a pleasure to drive home to Concord Court. That the Court was fairly close to the school had been one of the biggest selling points of this teaching contract over her other two options. Everyone at the Court had become a second family, which was nice.
Her first family? After her parents retired from air force life, they’d returned home to Florida. Most of her sisters were spread out all over South Florida, but they managed to gather at her parents’ place sandwiched between Homestead and the Everglades for every official holiday and any celebration her father invented. It was good to be that close to both families but choosing where she wanted to buy her first place had been easy.
All she had to do was get packed up, travel not too far away and unpack. Then everything would be settled. Happily settled.
No one could order her to pack her things and move before she was ready. Painting the walls in every room a different color was her only immediate DIY plan; no more standard greige of base housing or apartments in her life ever again. She was thrilled.
Leaving Concord Court, her latest temporary home, would be hard, but the excitement of the new place was helping her overcome that.
As she slid out of her car and slammed the door, she saw Sean Wakefield driving into the Court’s parking lot. She raised her hand in greeting.
“Hey, Mira, assign a lot of homework today?” He rested an elbow out the truck window. Mira could hear his phone dinging. As the person in charge of all the maintenance, construction and grounds at Concord Court, Sean never had a lot of free time. He was also one of her oldest new friends.
“No homework. It’s the end of the semester, gave the last test today. I’m still trying to find the perfect mix of tough enough that they’ll learn something, but wanting to keep things fun—” she held out her noisy sweatshirt as proof “—partly so that they might still vote me favorite teacher. I want to be voted Best Teacher in my first year. No assignments over Christmas break was a sound decision for them and for me.” It might seem a silly goal, but Mira had always pursued goals. This was one she could win. She brushed each shoulder and smiled.
“Good plan, Teach. Everybody deserves a break.”
Mira agreed in theory. She’d never been good at stopping or resting. There was usually too much to do. “I guess. Packing and moving into my new house will keep me occupied anyway.” The silence stretched between them. Saying goodbye to Concord Court was one of those bittersweet things that life put in a person’s path. She’d loved it here. Her best friends were here. But her time was up.
She’d been the first resident of the townhome community the Montero family had built to offer veterans leaving service a free place to live until they could take their next steps, whatever those might be. The only requirement to living in the complex was to go to school or find a job. Mira had finished her degree, earned her teaching certification and had been able to get a place of her own, so she was ready.
That didn’t make leaving home any easier.
It was comforting that the band of brothers she’d joined through unofficial group hangouts at midnight around the swimming pool would miss her being at Concord Court, too. Not that they’d ever come right out and admit it. The serious expression on Sean’s face was her best clue to how he felt.
“Run in the morning?” he asked, shaking his head immediately as if he were urging her to say no.
She nodded instead. “Since it’s so cool these days, we should begin training for that marathon next year.”
“I do not do organized sports,” Sean said with a sniff. “I need my freedom to express myself.”
Mira rolled her eyes. “Okay, so we’ll stick with our usual run. Stretch it to ten miles?”
He frowned. “I’m a busy man. I don’t have time to agree to anything other than our easiest run.” Instead of waiting for her answer, he grinned and drove away.
“We’ll see about that,” Mira muttered as she climbed the steps up to her town house and unlocked the door. Learning to stand firm in front of the loud groans of those at the Court who did not want to participate in extra running sessions had been excellent training for teaching high school biology. Sean was the biggest complainer in the group. He was also her best friend.
Inside, Mira dropped her tote on the overstuffed chair that was her favorite spot in the whole place. Filling her one-bedroom townhome had been easy enough, thanks to her father’s habit of never getting rid of anything. He’d taken her to his unit in one of her grandfather’s storage rental buildings, unlocked the sliding door and threw it open to reveal his collection of odds and ends, rejects, hand-me-downs and too-good-to-pass-up purchases.
Being related to a pack rat when you no longer had to live in their home was nice.
Her father had been in the air force, too, so his collection had true international flair. This overstuffed chair was solid leather, had enough padding to swallow a person whole and was nestled perfectly in the cove of the window, bookshelves on either side.
A reading nook that Mira had often dreamed of and had created for herself.
She’d enjoy using this chair to sit in to grade today’s tests, log on to her laptop to enter the grades, and then spend the rest of the weekend sorting and packing up her kitchen. Easy.
But first, the mail.
Mira left and cut across the courtyard on her way to the mailboxes. The days might be shorter in December, but Miami sunshine was still warm. The pool hadn’t been covered, so it sparkled in the setting sun. Wreaths made of red cedar and pygmy date palm branches were attached to every other post of the wrought iron fence that surrounded the pool. The ends of the bright red bows on the wreaths stirred in the slight breeze as she passed.
As she reached the flagpoles flying the United States and Florida flags, as well as the flag of each branch of the military, Wade McNally exited the Court’s office.
After their one perfectly comfortable blind date, they’d settled into a solid friendship.
“You ready for help yet?” Wade asked.
That was how he’d started every conversation since she’d mentioned finding her new house. He was determined to lend a hand. Wade would also round up a moving team when the time came. What a super friend to have.
“Not yet, but I’m getting there. I’ve got this school break, and it’s time to get serious. I will let you know when.” She nodded firmly when he looked skeptical. “I mean it. I’m not going to be one of those silly people who refuses to ask for help.” She’d spent the last year walking her friends through easy solutions to problems that boiled down to “Ask for help.” Maybe she’d learned the lesson, too.
He glanced back at the office. “Good. We’ve got plenty of those around.”
“Trouble with true love?” Mira asked in a singsong. She was happy for Brisa Montero, who ran the Court and was now in a relationship with Wade. Really, she was. And she was happy for Brisa’s older sister, Reyna, who was dating Sean.
Though, being swallowed in a stifling cloud of love whenever they were all together was a lot.
And when they were at odds? Mira enjoyed fireworks but not at such close range.
He shrugged. “Brisa has a plan, but she won’t tell me what it is. Her only confidante is Thea, but how much can a ten-year-old contribute?”
Since Wade’s daughter, Thea, was wise beyond her years, Mira had a feeling she’d be a good assistant.
“What if it’s a Christmas gift for you? Then neither of them can tell you. You can’t help with that.” Mira watched it sink into Wade’s brain that she might have a solid suggestion.
He inhaled slowly, held it and exhaled. “Good point. Trust you to always have a good point.”
“And trust Brisa and Thea both to know when they need your assistance.” Or her for that matter, but she wasn’t going to say that. In her time as the leader of their band at the pool, Mira had learned that letting them come to the realization on their own sometimes saved everyone a lot of time and emotion. Plus, they got annoyed at how often she was right.
“Run in the morning?” Wade asked. He didn’t complain, she knew, because he wasn’t going.
“Yep. Brisa and I want to convince the rest of the group to train for a marathon.” Mira laughed at the loud groan Wade let out.
“A marathon?” He closed his eyes before muttering, “I’ll be the guy dating the woman who literally runs circles around him.”
She was still giggling when she opened her mailbox. A water bill, a ragged sale paper for the local grocery and a postcard from her dry cleaner. That was it.
It wasn’t time to worry yet. Every day she expected to find the large self-addressed envelope with signed copies of her divorce papers, but this wasn’t the day, either.
“He still hasn’t returned the paperwork?” Wade asked. He’d been the first one to learn about her absent husband. In fact, that weird conversation had been part of her perfectly fine blind date with the former navy trauma surgeon. Consequently, she went on to tell her closest friends gathered at the swimming pool, but she’d required vows that they wouldn’t badger her for details. The promise had held strong for months, so she’d told them a week ago that the divorce should be final any day.
Mira assumed it was true. It had been almost a full year since she’d spoken to Rob Bowman in person. She’d mailed all the paperwork to him a month ago. All it would take is a signature and this marriage could be done.
The self-addressed, stamped envelope should have removed the only barrier her “husband” could make to mailing back the documents.
But he still hadn’t returned them.
This year, what she wanted for Christmas was to be divorced. Being set up on a blind date with a handsome, extremely eligible nice guy had shaken something loose in her. More than two years of separation was enough. Mira needed to move forward.
Marriage had never been on Mira’s mind at all. Then Rob’s path had crossed hers and everything changed. Her life in the air force and his in the army meant they had both been moving fast for a proper romance, so they’d leaped into marriage without a real plan.
The time had come to remedy that.
When Mira realized she hadn’t answered Wade’s question, she shook her head. “No, I haven’t gotten the paperwork back yet. The mail is slow. At the holidays, it can slow down.” She pasted on a smile. “Santa could bring it down my nonexistent chimney on Christmas Eve.”
Wade crossed his arms over his chest. “You want to go get his signature? Atlanta’s a nice drive up the coast. Sean and I can go. We’ll put on suits, dark sunglasses, scowl a lot.”
Mira grinned as she tried to imagine her husband’s reaction to her arrival with a couple of bodyguards. All three of them would end up in trouble, what with Rob being an Atlanta cop. “Let’s give Santa a chance first.”
Wade sighed. “Can’t help Brisa. Can’t help you. Guess I better go hang out in the emergency room. They never turn down my help there.” He said goodbye and followed the path that led into the courtyard.
It was nice to have friends who had her back. But if it came down to it, she could face her ex without any real concern. They had both walked away from the relationship at the first sign of trouble. He’d stopped in Atlanta. She’d made Miami home. There was nothing left between them except miles.
She’d check the mail again tomorrow.
Her disappointment was easy to forget as she settled into her routine. Hot tea, a stack of tests to grade and her favorite red pen. Hunger was reminding her that dinner was one of the four or five most important meals of the day when she heard a car come to a stop close to her town house. Curiosity got the better of her.
“Two tests left. I was so close,” she muttered as she stretched and stood. Whoever it was might have a dinner invitation. The promise of food immediately prompted a happy smile. She’d surprise whoever it was by yanking the door open before they knocked.
