Page 25 of The Roommate Lie

“This is your fault.” I point my fork at her, and my mom chuckles. “I was going to be the king of part-time employment, but you’re too good at your job.”

Our mother went back to school after the divorce, and she’s the best kindergarten teacher I’ve ever seen. My own teacher at Ponderosa Elementary used to hate how hyper I was. That was the first time in my life I got labeled as a “bad kid,” and I believed it.

But watching my mom in her own classroom, how she loves her “good” and “bad” kids the exact same amount, did something to me. It made me want to help hyper little tornados like me the way she does every single day. It made me want to be the person who understands them instead of the first teacher to give up on them.

My mother aims another proud look in my direction, savoring the moment. We’ve come a long way since that addiction facility in Cascade Canyon. “I can’t wait until you have your own classroom.”

If I get hired.

That’s the one hurdle left, the only fear I can’t shake.What if nobody wants me?

Part of me still isn’t sure if anything from my past might get in the way, even the small stuff. My tattoos or my spotty workhistory. My GED. Though at least my teenage misadventures didn’t make it to my permanent record.

Praise all the saints of juvenile hall.

My mother nods sympathetically, as if she knows exactly what I’m thinking about. All those extra obstacles I had to tackle to make up for my past, the obstacles I still might have to tackle. Then she detonates the bomb to end all bombs.

“I’m retiring.”

Carl and I both drop our forks.

“But you love your job.” My brother grabs a napkin to blot the maple syrup he splattered everywhere. “And you’re barely fifty. What do you mean you’re retiring?”

“Loving my job isn’t enough. I love working with Bill too, and I can’t do both full-time.”

Nothing could’ve surprised us more, but she keeps going. As if she’s shooting for some kind of stun-your-children world record.

“I actually wanted to retire pretty soon after I got married, but I made my principal a deal: I’d stay one more year if she interviewed you for my old position once you graduated.”

If I could drop my fork a second time, I would. But it’s still on the table. Covered in whipped cream from my Belgian waffles.

Meanwhile, my mother hesitates like there’s more.How can there be more?

“My assistant is retiring too. I might’ve offered to stay on part-time and take her place if they hired you.”

Carl and I are speechless. That woman has stolen all our words.

My brother fights to recover, but mostly he just stumbles over his words. “But you…you can’t…that’s…can you do that? Isn’t that?—”

Illegal?

Unethical?

A kindergarten shakedown?

Those are my first thoughts, but my mother takes it in a slightly different direction. Less crime ring, more mama bear.

“Shameless nepotism? Yeah, I know. Isn’t it great? That’s usually a rich man’s game, but I’m excited to give it a try. It’s been pretty thrilling.”

I don’t know how I feel about any of this. On one hand, I could work in the community I love. I could make a difference in my own hometown, the same place where other people made a difference for me.

But on the other hand…

“I don’t like you asking for favors. It feels shady.”

“Kindergarten assistants are a dime a dozen. They don’t really need me for that position, no matter who the new teacher is. The only thing I really did was wait to retire. You could’ve gotten an interview on your own, and they’re only going to hire you if they think you’re the best candidate for the job—and I’m okay with that. I’m just cracking open the door on my way out. The rest is up to you.”

I still can’t tell how I feel. It sounds like a dream come true, but it also sounds too good to be true. Like it’ll hurt if it doesn’t work out.

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