Page 89 of Little Buried Secrets

Freezing until a hot flash kicks in.

“Look, I … I need to say something,” he said.

“I’m listening.”

“I’ve had some time to think about what Margot said and about how uncomfortable I made her feel. Maybe the hug lasted too long. What can I say? I’m a hugger. I suppose I haven’t thought about the fact that it might make others uncomfortable. I’ll be aware of it in the future, and I’ll also have an open conversation from now on with my students, so they know they can talk to me if they have any concerns.”

“Good idea. Is there anything else?”

“The private session I had with Margot. I can see now that it wasn’t a good idea to put myself into that kind of situation. If I pressed my body against Margot’s during our coaching session, I wouldn’t have even realized it at the time. My sole focus would have been on the instructions I was giving her.”

His sentiments seemed genuine, but I found myself questioning everything about him.

“Seems like you’ve given Margot’s concerns a lot of thought,” I said.

“I have, and I want to be honest with everyone about it so this never happens again. To start, I’ve written letters to Rae and Bronte, explaining myself, but also apologizing for making Margot feel the way I did.”

I glanced at the front door. People were starting to depart, which meant our private conversation wouldn’t be able to continue much longer.

Warren pulled two envelopes out of his pocket and handed them to me. “Will you give Rae this letter along with the flowers, and will you give Bronte the other letter?”

“I will.”

I removed the coat he’d wrapped around me and handed it back to him. “It’s not often I meet people like you. I mean no offense when I say this, but you seem so genuine, it’s almost hard for me to believe you are.”

“It’s not the first time someone has said that to me,” he said.

And something told me it wouldn’t be the last.

CHAPTER 37

I found Bronte in her room, sitting on her bed, with headphones over her ears. I waved from the doorway, and she pulled the headphones off, setting them down beside her.

“I can’t take people anymore today,” she said. “The funeral wiped me out.”

“I get it. I’m not trying to bug you.”

“You’re not. Come in.”

I entered her room and took a seat at her desk.

She grabbed her cell phone, looked at it, and set it on the nightstand.

“I have a letter for you,” I said. “It’s from Coach Warren. He asked me to give it to you, and before you say anything, I don’t know what it says. I have an idea, though.”

“Uhh, oh … kay. Why did he write me a letter?”

“I talked to him about Margot, like I said I would. He said he felt bad for making her feel the way he did. I’m guessing the letter he wrote you is an explanation and an apology.”

“Do you think he’s innocent?”

“I don’t know. I wish I did.”

She grunted, “When will you know?” and then leaned against her headboard. “Sorry. That was rude. I’m tired.”

“I’m as frustrated as you are that her case hasn’t been solved yet.”

“Yeah … well, I don’t want his stupid letter.”

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