Page 10 of Sweetest in the Gale
She frowned, seemingly distracted and bothered by her surroundings, and he had no idea why. Working together, he and Candy had finished her bulletin board, hung posters, and given each wall of her room a different focus: short fiction, poetry, novels, and drama. Everything was neat, colorful, and intelligently organized. No principal could ask for more, in his opinion.
Tess’s face suddenly brightened. “I want you two to be in charge of the school’s new, uh… Falling for Poetry Initiative.” She gave a pleased little nod. “Since you’re both here early, and your rooms are already in order, I’m hoping you’ll have sufficient time to start planning together before the school year even begins. The initiative would take place in October, if that’s acceptable to you both?”
“Falling for Poetry is a pun, I take it? Because of autumn?” Candy tapped her chin. “It’s relatively short notice, but I think I could pull something together.”
“With Griff’s help, don’t forget. I don’t want you working too hard or putting any stress on that arm, so his assistance will prove invaluable.” Tess pinned him with her stare. “That is, if he’s willing to participate. Are you, Griff?”
Again, there was only one right answer. It was also the answer he wanted to give, even though it scared him.
“Yes,” he said. “I’ll do it.”
Tess’s grin was triumphant in a way he didn’t fully understand, but he supposed that was why he was a lifelong teacher, rather than an administrator. How did he know what made principals gleeful and smug?
“What would be our budgetary—” he began.
Tess interrupted hastily. “Let’s save all the details for an official meeting next week. Check your calendars and get back to me with times you’re both available. In the meantime, I want you to consider—”
Still talking, she turned her back, walked over to Candy’s desk, and scrawled something on a pad of sticky notes. Even pointing his good ear in her direction couldn’t save him, not when her normal speaking voice was so much softer than Candy’s.
When Tess swiveled to face them once more, sticky note in hand, he could hear her again. “—share your notes. Any questions?”
He shook his head and watched as she left.
Well, he supposed this moment was inevitable, if he and Candy were truly becoming friends and not simply friendly colleagues.
His hearing loss in his right ear wasn’t exactly a secret, and it didn’t shame him in any way. That said, he didn’t share the information freely either. As long as it didn’t impact his ability to teach effectively, it was no one’s business but his.
Unless he chose otherwise.
He supposed he was doing that now. Choosing.
When he closed the classroom door behind Tess, the action drew Candy’s immediate attention.
She looked up from where she’d been scribbling on a notepad, her brows raised above the rims of her glasses. “We need privacy for this discussion? How ominous.” The bright determination in her face dimmed. “Listen, Griff. If you’d rather not do the project, I can handle it on my own. It’s fine.”
Ironic, that wording.
“I’m happy to do the project with you.” He offered her a wry smile. “It’s the wholelisten, Griffpart that’s the problem.”
Her brow beetled as she waited for him to clarify.
“I’ve had hearing loss in my right ear since I was a child,” he told her. “Normally, if people speak loudly enough or I can do a bit of lip reading, I’m fine. When Tess turned her back, though, I missed some of what she was saying.”
After a moment, Candy nodded. “She was mumbling.”
He leaned against the whiteboard, struck by Candy’s reaction to his revelation. Or rather, her lack thereof.
She readjusted her wide headband, mouth pursed in thought. “You didn’t miss much. She was rambling, as well as mumbling.” Leaning closer, as if sharing a confidence, she added, “Honestly, she seemed a bit distracted and disorganized today. I’m not certain she’s fully thought through this project of hers.”
He’d thought the same. “I’m sure the start of the school year pulls her in a lot of different directions.”
“I suppose so.” Candy lifted a round shoulder. “Anyway, she said to confer with one another about possible initiative activities, price out those ideas, and then share our notes at our meeting with her.”
A quick glance at his watch told him they didn’t have time for a real discussion now. His afternoon meeting with the other ninth-grade English teachers started soon. Too soon, dammit. “Fair enough. I have a meeting for the rest of today, but I should be available whenever you’re free later this week. Including tomorrow.”
She smiled at him, her cheeks pink as the peonies in his backyard. “Tomorrow works for me.”
When he started to open her door, she lifted a hand to stop him.
