Thank God.
She didn't know what she would have said. It wasn't anybody's business anyway.
A number of problems existed when you lived in a small town. Any one of them could prevent a person who craved privacy from moving in. When you added in a busybody who ran the small local newspaper, you doubled the dilemma. Until the past couple of nights Lucy's life had been too boring to pop up on anyone's radar. She minded her own business and always hoped everyone else would do the same.
Yes, she had skeletons deep in her closet, but no one who'd known her before she'd left for college would have had a clue of what she'd been through. When her father died six months after Lucy had gone off to college, her mother had moved to Oklahoma to live with Lucy's aunt, who also had alcoholic tendencies. She hadn't spoken to her mother in a long time. Maybe she should feel guilty about that. But for her own peace of mind, she didn't.
No one in Sunshine knew Lucy had gotten married except Jordan. No one even remembered her when she came back. So no one was the wiser and she planned to keep it that way. She'd worked way too hard to put the past behind her to allow anyone drag it out into the open.
As she entered her own classroom, the bell rang and Cody Christianson slipped into his seat just in time to receive her death glare.
"You're pushing your luck, Mr. Christianson."
"Made it before the bell ended."
Lucy set the box in her hands down on her desk without giving the handsome young man another look. She already knew she'd find his endearing smirk and matching flash of mischief in his green eyes. Cody was one of those students who pushed the envelope just far enough to make him feel like he was spreading his wings, but never too far to get himself in actual trouble. He reminded her a little bit of what Jordan had been like back in their school days-­a hell-­raiser in training and so charming no one had a clue.
Finally she turned to face her class. She flashed Cody a look and waited until he took out his notebook. Then she scanned the roomful of students. Toward the middle of the class she found Nicole deep in thought as she read something inside a very pink and flowery journal. Lucy bit back a smile, because Nicole also held a bright purple gel pen in her hand.
Looked like Jordan's thoughtful gift hadn't gone up in smoke after all.
For a few minutes, Lucy discussed that in creative writing, the ability to look deeper than what the eyes immediately registered was key. As an example, she pulled out a clear clamshell package that contained a small plastic toy bear wearing a Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses. The class twittered with laughter.
"Pretty obvious, right?" she asked the class. "Bear on a vacation. Anyone see anything different?"
Cody raised his hand. "Bear undercover for Miami vice."
She smiled. "Good one, Cody. Anyone else?" When she received no further responses, she continued with the assignment. "When I look at this bear I see that after twenty years of working without a vacation, he's finally enjoying some time off. But since he's not smiling, I see him as on that vacation alone. The sunglasses hide his tears and the Hawaiian shirt hides his broken heart."
In the classroom of twenty-­four students, you could hear crickets.
Lucy knew that, for the moment, she'd made them stop and think. Hopefully. Which had been her plan. Even Nicole appeared to be paying attention.
"Your assignment-­which will be handed in before you leave the classroom today-­is to look deeply at the next object I pull out of the box and write its story." She glanced about the room and saw frowns, blank stares, and very few encouraging nods.
Nicole's expression gave away nothing.
"Ready?" Lucy reached inside the cardboard and pulled out a bedraggled stuffed bunny she'd once seen at a thrift store and hadn't been able to leave it behind. So she'd taken it home and given it a place to live on a shelf in her living room. After propping the bunny up on her desk so all the students could see, she said, "You only have until the end of the hour to tell me his or her story. So get started."
After five minutes, the quiet in the room stunned her. Usually there were whispers, note passing, under-­desk texting, or a giggle here and there. Today every student appeared to be working-­even Nicole. A sense of accomplishment floated over Lucy. Maybe she'd finally found the key to what worked for this class. Then again, she wouldn't be surprised if a few of them wrote line after line of "I can't think of anything." She'd seen that happen before.