Three upper-school students, dressed sharply in maroon blazers bearing the school crest, took the kids to their respective classrooms for games and refreshments. Annie, usually painfully shy, took the older girl’s hand, beaming up at the upperclassman like she was the president.
Next stop: reception hall. Abby took a deep breath and let it out. Like a country club luncheon, women stood in groups, holding dainty glasses of the minty iced tea served at every Rawston Academy function. Abby made the rounds, smiling and saying hello to the ladies working the committee sign-up tables. So not her thing.
More of a worker bee, she preferred jobs behind the scenes. Way behind the scenes. Like sending money or supplies for special projects. She thought of Matt, so large and in charge, saving the world. Maybe that needed to change.
Just do it. It’s volunteering. Not like they can say no.
Abby walked straight to the head honchos of school service. The women appraised her as she approached, in the way women do, noting every detail. That sick feeling of walking into the high school cafeteria crept over her. The no-name girl in no-name clothes who lived in a group home with an every-other-day shower rotation. She’d never asked to sit with anyone. Had learned by the third grade that if you didn’t ask, they couldn’t tell you no.
But Matt had sat by her for days.
She forced herself to stand strong and not deviate.
“Abby.” The PTA president greeted her in a louder than necessary voice as she reached out with a stiff hug, patting her back lightly, keeping plenty of space between them.
Wouldn’t want to mess up her perfectly coiffed hair.
“You look so cute, for being pregnant and all,” she continued. “How are you? I’ve thought about you all summer, but we were just so busy…” She shook her head, not a single hair joining the motion.
“That’s okay.” Really.
“Oh, me too, Abby,” another woman piped in. “The summer flew by, didn’t it? Carl and I took a last-minute trip to Europe while the twins were at camp and…Oh gosh. Just listen to me going on and on about life with my husband and here you are a widow.” She tilted her face, pouty lips and all. “Forgive me?”
Abby wanted to laugh. “Of course. It’s fine. I was—”
“Good morning, ladies.” The headmaster of the lower school joined them, his mint-green dress shirt popping against his white linen jacket. Tall and tan, with sandy blond hair combed back from his face, William Stafford was nice looking, in a Robert Redford kind of way. Not in a Matt kind of way.
The women excused themselves and Dr. Stafford bestowed a radiant smile. “Can I get you a drink?”
“No, thank you.” William had always been extremely kind to her, personally welcoming her to every event and program, and she appreciated it. Explaining Josh’s repeated absence had been awkward at times.
“I hope I didn’t interrupt an important meeting.”
“Not at all. We were just discussing how I might volunteer this year.”
“That’s wonderful. They’d be lucky to have you anywhere.” He smiled at her, looking every bit sincere.
Abby slid her hand over her belly, caressing a tiny kicking foot. The bathroom called her name, as it often did. “Well, I need to gather up the kids. Lots of school shopping to do.”
“An exciting time of year,” William said with a smile. “It was nice to see you. I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”
He moved on to greet someone else and she made her exit. The more Abby thought about those women, the angrier she became. Snappy comebacks formed in her mind, as usual too late to be effective. How dare they? It wasn’t like her, but she was tempted to sign up for multiple committees, just to prove she could.
—
Matt let his head rest against the inside of the Chinook and replayed his conversation with his CO as the bird flew them at a hundred fifty miles per hour back to the forward operating base. Bill was right. He had thought about making a change two years ago. He’d even gone so far as to set up an appointment with the navy’s career counselor.
His mind drifted to another night flight, this one over a Colombian rain forest. The last ride he’d have sitting next to his best friend and there’d been too much space between them. His platoon had just come off four days leave, and for whatever reason, the time with his family had been different. Maybe it was getting older and reassessing his life. Or holding his newborn niece while the priest poured baptismal water over her angelic forehead. Whatever it was…he’d wondered.
Was he missing his chance at a different life? Did a man reach a point when it was too late? The bad timing didn’t just apply to finding the right woman; it also applied to kids, like the newborn he’d held in his arms. He had no regrets about how he’d spent the past decade; he didn’t want to have any in the next one.