Rumors by Erica Kiefer Read Free Book Online

situation was a
little uncomfortable, there was an aura of kindness and
understanding about him.
    “ I’m sure you do,” I answered. “It must have been difficult to
watch your wife pass away.” I didn’t know what else to say besides
the generic responses—although, personally, sometimes I wished
people would stick to the simple generic truths instead of diving
into “sage advice.”
    Mr.
Nordell interlocked his fingers and placed them on the desk. “If
you ever want to hear about it in detail, stop by after school some
time.”
    ***
    “ Where were you?” Tara asked as she
pulled open her front door. She stood there in sports shorts and a
tank top, with her fluorescent-pink sports bra peeking out from
underneath her black top. In contrast, wearing jeans and a black
sweater from school today, I slid past her scowl and sat down on
her couch. She followed me in earnest, plopping down next to me in
a huff. “Why did you skip out on practice today? Coach was
livid!”
    I had no
doubt Coach Robbins was indeed red faced and furious. You pretty
much had to be lying in bed puking (and doing so while on the phone
with him), for Coach to forgive a missed practice. Forgive was
probably too generous a word though. It was more like “forced to
acknowledge illness,” and then you paid for it later with physical
torment.
    “ I know, I know,” I said, having already ignored the first
phone call from him. I was not looking forward to that
call.
    “ Do you know how much it sucked to be yelled at in your place?
I guess he thinks I was in on it or something—which I’m totally
not, since I’ve hardly even seen you this week during school.
Where’ve you been?”
    Knowing
she wouldn’t understand, I hesitated with my explanation. It was
Monday when Mr. Nordell first spoke to me in the library and
invited me to his classroom. Tuesday was when he had mentioned his
wife’s passing. I didn’t know why, but there was something about
him that made me want to listen to what he had to say. Maybe it was
the way he invited without pushing, or the genuine way in which he
spoke from the heart, but I wanted to hear more about his
wife.
    So
today, Thursday, I had stepped into his classroom after school and
asked what he missed most about her. Mr. Nordell immediately
stopped what he was doing and sat down with me. He talked about
missing her companionship, hearing the music she played, and
smelling the food she cooked wafting through the house and
welcoming him home. He talked about the laughter and conversations
they shared, and the memories of raising two kids
together.
    I asked
him if her death had changed him significantly. His response was,
“You can’t get hit with an emotional sledgehammer without incurring
some psychological scarring.” He told me to come back another day,
and he would elaborate. Not once did he ask about Maddie’s death or
my near drowning. For once, it was just refreshing to listen to
someone else share their story of love and loss.
    I tried to explain this to Tara, but the first thing she said
from the couch was, “NERD-dell? You were hanging out with that old
geezer?”
    “ Tara, really? Ok, this is why I wasn’t going to tell
you.”
    Tara’s
dad happened to walk into the kitchen during our conversation. He
poked his head out from behind the wall. “Did you say Nordell? As
in Frank Nordell?’
    “ Yeah, that dreary geek of a science teacher,” Tara answered.
“Talk about snooze-fest during tenth grade biology.”
    “ Oh come on, he wasn’t that bad. He was interesting if you
were paying attention,” I defended.
    Mr.
Davis chimed into the conversation. “Nordell is still there, huh?
He was my teacher during senior year. You guys call him “NERD-dell”
now? Well, that’s certainly a change.”
    “ How do you mean?” I asked.
    “ I’ll be right back,” Mr. Davis said, hurrying down into the
basement. A few minutes later, he returned with an old yearbook
from twenty years ago. It was from