what it is, and you do the same with Harlan. Oh, waitâdid you agree to that dinner?â
âI did. Donât know why.â She began moving her eyes about, apparently projecting an amusing vision. âMaybe he needs to have his little playroom redecorated. But lemme tell you, girl. I am good and through being his clueless Martha Stewart.â
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Maura Beth had never seen Jeremy looking so depressed before. She knew something was seriously wrong when he walked into her Clover Street apartment just past two the next day with his shoulders slumped and his eyes downcast. It also came to her that she had never seen him dressed in anything but his New Gallatin Academy navy blue blazer and red tie. Today he had decided that a pair of jeans and a faded yellow shirt with the top button missing would do the trick, and she didnât mind at all. He was still just as handsome and appealing out of his schoolteacher drag. They briefly hugged and kissed but had barely seated themselves on the sofa when he launched into an explanation of the project that had been occupying so much of his time lately.
âI thought I had this âLiving the Classics in the Real Worldâ field trip in the bag, Maura Beth. I donât think Iâve ever been so disappointed in my life, not even last year for your To Kill a Mockingbird meeting. Man, sometimes I wish I didnât care about my students the way I do,â he began. There was no mistaking the anger in his voice as he began flexing his right hand several times, fist to open fingers. He couldnât seem to stop, as if he were doing some sort of isometric exercise. Finally, Maura Beth reached over and put her hand over his.
âCalm down and tell meâbut take a deep breath first.â
He complied, but his tone was still agitated and his breathing still labored. âI researched everything. Ways to cut corners on the motel and meals for my students, checking out availability of reservations on certain dates, lining up parents as chaperones, and all of it well in advance this time. As I mentioned, Iâve been working on another literary field tripâthis time to take a school bus down to Oxford to see Rowan Oak and have the guys learn all about Faulkner. Why shouldnât my students be exposed to the literary world within reasonable traveling distance? I thought I got turned down last November for your Mockingbird review because everything was too rushed and last minute, which it was.â
Maura Beth reached up and gently rubbed his shoulder, feeling the tightness of his muscles beneath the shirt. âSo youâre saying the headmaster turned you down again?â
âI really thought Mr. Yelverton would approve me this time. I spent most of last weekend drawing up a proposal, and then I had dinner with him and his wife for the verdict. But it looks like it was all for nothing.â Jeremyâs features darkened, and he made another fist, which this time landed emphatically on his thigh. âWhat really burns me is that Yelverton never blinks an eyelash when it comes to approving bus trips for the football team. Long live the Fighting Frontiersmen! Hey, heâll send them all over Middle Tennessee from August to November to represent the athletic priorities of New Gallatin Academy. But let an English teacher try to expose his students to a little literary history and culture, and suddenly itâs a case of âOld Mother Hubbard went to the cupboard.â He says my students can read Faulkner in the classroom like theyâve always done, plus go online if they want to see pictures of Rowan Oak, and that everybody knows the sports program brings all the alums together, particularly football.â Jeremy drew back sharply, practically spitting out the next word: âFootball! Itâs undeniably a religion here in the South. And donât let anybody even think about standing in the way of the Immaculate Church of the Holy
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley