The Last One(81)

“I drove by Myrtle Cantor’s orchards today. Apples are going to be good this year. Oh, sorry, Meghan, you’ll be gone by the time they come in.”

“I heard they’ve set the date for the harvest dance. Too bad you’ll miss that, Meghan.”

“No, Bridge, Meghan won’t be here on your first day of school.”

Each time Ali mentioned something about me leaving, Sam’s mouth tightened and his face shuttered. Most of the time he found an excuse to leave the room.

Our after-supper sessions on the front porch had taken on a slightly desperate edge, too. Sam became more daring, and I wasn’t objecting. More often than not, whatever bra I was wearing ended up on the floor.

“I think Ali knows better than to come out here after dark, and Bridge is sleeping.” I knelt on the floor in front of Sam, who was sprawled in the rocking chair. Walking my fingers up his leg, I teased toward the zipper of his jeans.

He grabbed my hand. “You may be right, but you know when you have your mouth on me, I can’t keep quiet. I won’t be able to look my sister in the eye if she hears me yelling your name while you suck me off.”

I sighed. He wasn’t wrong, but I found I couldn’t get enough of him. I may have pouted, just a little.

“Hey, come on up here.” Sam lifted me onto his lap. “We’ll be out at the river tomorrow night, and my body’ll be yours.”

Mine, but for only one more night. Mine, but only temporarily. And that fact made the lump in my stomach ache even more.

On my last day of classes, the parents and students surprised me with a little party in the afternoon. They presented me with a framed collage that all the kids had contributed to making and a homemade card each of them had signed. There were cookies and punch, and I cried when they presented the gifts to me.

“Miss Meghan, when are you coming back?” Rachel, who was just going into first grade, slipped her little hand into mine as I nibbled on cookies.

“Oh, sweetie, I was just here for the summer. But I think there’s a good chance your school will be able to hire a full-time art teacher pretty soon, and then you won’t even miss me.”

“We’ll definitely miss you, Meghan.” Rachel’s mother smiled. “You’ve taught these kids so much. I can’t imagine a better teacher.”

“I couldn’t, either.” Ali met my eyes. “I think lots of people are going to miss Meghan.”

“Luckily for you, I’m only going to be about forty-five minutes away in Savannah, and you can visit me when you come into the city. I’ll take you to my favorite galleries, and I can even show you around the college.” I patted Rachel’s shoulder.

An older woman with gray bouffant hair stepped closer, and Ali introduced us. “Meghan, this is Mrs. Abbott. She’s on the school board, and her granddaughter Nicole was one of your students.”

“Of course. Nicole is a very talented painter.” I shook the woman’s hand.

“I’ve heard nothing but praise for you and your classes, Miss Hawthorne.” Mrs. Abbott’s voice held all the music of the south, a refined accent that went beyond a drawl.

“Thank you. I’ve enjoyed teaching this summer. I appreciate Burton—and ArtCorps, of course—for giving me the opportunity.”

“I’m happy to hear that. As I understand it, you’ll be entering your senior year of college in Savannah this fall. Is that correct?”

This lady made me want to stand up straighter and fold my hands. “Yes, ma’am, it is.”

“Aha. Well, as you might know, we’ve been without a formal art program in the school for a few years now. It’s a cut I always regretted that we had to make, but there’s been an anonymous donation to the home and school association.” Her lips twitched, and there was no doubt in my mind who’d contributed that money. “So we’ll be able to reinstate art in our schools this year. I’ve spoken with the rest of the board, and we’d like you to consider the position.”

I frowned. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure I follow you. I’m not a teacher yet, just a volunteer.”

“I do understand that. What we had in mind was a part-time job for the first year, while you’re still at school, and then moving into something full-time after graduation. Even if you could give us a day or two a week to begin, we could run the class as we’ve done this summer. We can smooth out details later, but I wanted to extend the offer before you left town.”

I opened my mouth to explain all the reasons I couldn’t possibly take the job. A few months ago, the idea of burying myself in a little backwater town like Burton would’ve been horrifying. But now, the possibility was bittersweet. I couldn’t imagine agreeing to come back when it felt like Sam didn’t want me here. If he did, he would’ve asked me not to leave, and he hadn’t said anything. The idea of being in Burton and not being with Sam was unthinkable.