LeilaOne year laterI reviewed the admissions essay for another potential student. I loved reading the essays—most of the time. Some were absolute garbage, but the majority warmed my heart. I loved reading about the struggles and triumphs of the young people who wanted to attend our school for their educational needs. I always felt like we were the ones being interviewed.Students had thousands of options and when they applied to our school, I felt like we should be proud they had chosen us from the thousands. It had been a long year and the university was still recovering from the scandal that the dean’s extortion had brought on. I felt like we were making headway. It was being talked about less and less and I was hoping by this time next year, it would be a distant memory.My position as associate dean was implemented as a prevention method. Dean Johnson had been allowed to run unchecked, which made him feel invincible. Now, our new dean had me. It was a system of checks and balanc
LeilaHe looked at me and smiled but didn’t answer me. He parked the truck in the empty parking lot of the bar not far from the house. It was the same bar we had met up at on New Year’s Eve. Since moving in, we had become regulars at the bar, getting to know the staff very well.“Come on,” he said jumping out of the truck.“I don’t understand,” I said climbing out. “Isn’t everyone going to be waiting for us? You were the one who said we were going to be late. I don’t think we have time for a drink.”“Will you just come on,” he said. He grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the door. I noticed all the lights were off.“Christopher, they’re closed.”He pushed open the unlocked door, which seemed very odd to me. We walked into the bar. There was a flash of lights and a cacophony of surprises echoing around me. I clapped my free hand over my mouth, taking in the huge banner that said congratulations, and the hundreds of twinkle lights hanging from the ceiling.“Oh my God,” I gasped.“Surp
ChristopherThe big truck rumbled down the highway, the diesel engine the only sound filling the tomblike quiet in the cab of the truck. I glanced over, checking to make sure my sixteen-year-old son was still breathing, and had to smile. He had passed out. His head was leaning against the door, his mouth hanging open and looking anything but cool.I was tempted to snap a picture to use as blackmail for a future date but resisted. I didn’t need him to be pissed at me for anything else. I seemed to be able to piss him off with the simple intake of breath or the dreaded, ‘what’s going on’ question that put him on the defensive.It had been a long drive. It felt much longer due to the lack of conversation. The radio had gone in and out, leaving me in silence while he listened to his headphones. The stretch of highway in front of me seemed endless.We were close. So close to the end of our journey from our home in Minnesota to what I was declaring a fresh start to life in Conroe, Texas. My
ChristopherI started the truck and backed out of the spot, being mindful of the trailer I was pulling with all of our belongings. “I don’t know what a Texas woman is, but no. I’m moving us down here because I want warmth and fishing and good schools. Minnesota was killing my tired, old bones.”“You’re forty-four, when did you get old?” he retorted.“Last year,” I said, leaving it at that.“We could have just moved to a new house. Starting a new school my junior year is stupid.”I glanced over at him. “In your case, it was start in a new school or get kicked out of your old one. You get a fresh start here. I’ve checked out the school and the district. It’s a good school. You’ll be able to play baseball in the spring.”He groaned. “I could have played baseball at my old school.”“Not with your grades, Olin. This is a chance for you to be the guy I know you are. Those people back in Minnesota, they weren’t your friends. They were bringing you down and you would have ended up in serious
LeilaI checked the time and finished up the lesson plan I was working on for the next semester before getting up from my chair. “Time’s up,” I announced to the class.There were a few groans before the typical shuffling began. Students of my Greek Mythology class began to pack up, bringing me their final exams. I kept a stack, smiling and saying various platitudes to the students I had come to know over the last three months.“It was a great class,” one young woman said. “I didn’t know I liked Greek Mythology, but the way you teach it with such enthusiasm is contagious. You have a real passion for it and it makes it exciting.”“Ah, thank you Amber. I appreciate that. I’ve always had my head in the clouds, dreaming about gods and goddesses.”“Do you actually believe in it?”I grinned. “I think I believe a version of it, yes. I think we all need to have a little fantasy in our lives.”“Good point. See you later. I wish you taught all my classes.”I waved and took the next paper. I was
LeilaI was saving up for retirement. I planned on visiting Greece and spending a lot of time really exploring the ruins. I wanted to channel the gods and goddesses I had devoted a large portion of my life too. They fascinated me. Every one of them was interesting and had a story. I would never get tired of thinking about them.I was considering using my degree in mythology to move into the literature field. I wanted to write stories about the gods. I wanted to live in their turbulent world for a while. Anything to escape the mundane world I was bound to in my present life.With the bulk of my work done, the grades for the semester entered into the system, I closed up my office for the day—for the week. I had a few precious days off before I had to pick up and start all over again. I liked the mini-mesters. I liked shoving in a lot of information into a short amount of time. It just seemed more efficient and the students seemed to remember more at the end of the class.I parked my Toy
ChristopherI woke up early, excited to do a little unpacking and settle into the new house. I wanted to make it feel like home for Olin. I wanted the transition to be as easy as possible, if that were even a thing. Olin was dead set on making everything as difficult as he could.I reminded myself he’d been through a lot and I had to give him some time to accept the new life he’d been forced into. I was going to start that life by making him some bacon and eggs. Everybody loved bacon. Teenage boys especially loved bacon.I searched the cupboards, familiarizing myself with where the housekeeper I had hired put the dishes. It was a little strange to feel like a guest in my own house, but I reminded myself it would get better with time. It would be a home.I got busy making breakfast, my eyes continuously looking out the wall of windows that faced our massive backyard with the lake in the distance. It was spectacular. If I were the agent selling the home, I would have absolutely highligh
ChristopherI drove to the college campus and quickly found the office. I was directed down a hall and asked to wait. Being on campus took me back to my younger years when I had attended the University of Minnesota. My degree in business had paid off. Now it was time to pursue something just for the sake of having fun. I didn’t need any more money.“Mr. Evans?” a middle-aged man called my name.“That’s me,” I said, getting to my feet and following him into a tiny office.“Hi, I’m Gerald Enders, one of the advisors here. I understand you were interested in taking some classes?”I nodded. “I am. I’m just not entirely sure what.”“I see. You have a Bachelor’s in business, are you thinking about pursuing a masters?”“No, definitely not. I’ve mastered the business world.”He smiled, obviously not believing me. “Do you want to try another major?”“Yes, possibly. I’m not sure I’m interested in another four-year degree, but I do want to try my hand at something new.”“Are you interested in ta