Bliss and the Art of Forever - Alison Kent Page 0,118

crayon colors.

Brooklyn had been teaching at Hope Springs Elementary for over a decade. It was the only teaching job she’d had. She’d seen other teachers retire, like Jean Dial, who today wore earrings that looked like fresh-cut red roses—the color, the shape, and the size—and she’d seen new hires, both seasoned professionals and new college grads, join the faculty’s ranks.

She wasn’t the only one who’d been at the school for so long, meaning she had a lot of friends, some close, some less so, but all wanting to wish her a bon voyage as she started this new chapter of her life. The room was packed, the noise level deafening, the aroma of Max Malina’s chicken parmesan cutlets and garlic bread strong enough to seep into the fabric of her dress.

It was hard to decide if she was happy or sad. Such a wealth of love and memories and friendship. Standing at the front of the room with a small group chatting about vacation plans, she let her mind drift and glanced from face to face: at those mingling, at those huddled over plates of cake at the tables, at those checking out the pile of gifts waiting for her to unwrap.

Gifts. What was she going to do with more things when she’d just unburdened herself of all that she owned? Well, most of what she owned. What was left was with Callum. Meaning whatever happened during her year away, at least she’d have seeing him again to look forward to.

Because no matter the ridiculous friction between them Tuesday night—and it was ridiculous, both of them on edge, both fearful, neither knowing what to do with this thing between them—nothing about her feelings for him had changed. All she could hope was that they had a chance to set things right before she left. The idea of leaving without doing so . . .

“Excuse me a minute,” she said, taking her leave from the group, who had moved on to talking about summer camps for their kids, and making her way through the room to where Jean Dial sat with Dolly Pepper at the end of one long table. Jean huddled over a plate of Italian cream cake, while Dolly cradled a cup of coffee. Both were frowning, heads down.

Frowning or not, their familiar faces were just what she needed right now. “Is this a private party, or is there room for one more?”

Both women looked up. Both smiled. Jean was the one to push out the chair to her side, while Dolly said, “Of course.”

Brooklyn hesitated. The tone of Dolly’s voice didn’t sound as welcoming as her invitation, and Jean was back to frowning again. “Are you sure?” she asked, tentative as she sat. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, but you both looked like you might need a little cheering up.”

“We’re not the ones needing the cheering,” Jean said, digging a fork into her cake. “That would be Vaughn Drake, though more than likely he’s just fine. We’re the ones doing the cheering.”

“Vaughn Drake? Callum’s father?” Brooklyn looked from Jean to Dolly, only to find the second woman with her face buried in her hands, mostly likely due to Jean’s outspokenness, which had Brooklyn wondering why her neighbor was cheering. And what it had to do with Vaughn. “Jean?”

“Shirley Drake left her husband.” Another bite of cake, Jean’s earrings swinging against her neck as she chewed. “Packed up her clothes and flew to Connecticut to stay with her sister, who I gather from what Shirley has said over the years is just as miserable a woman as she is.”

“To Connecticut.” Why hadn’t Callum said anything? “For a vacation?”

Dolly was shaking her head. “She told him she wants a divorce.”

Now Brooklyn was really confused. “I don’t understand. I saw them several times together. They seemed to have a good marriage.” And in all his complaining about his mother, Callum had never hinted otherwise.

“I think Vaughn thought the same thing, though I understand he’s not terribly broken up over it. So obviously I don’t know what I’m talking about,” Jean said, sliding her fork through her cake for a bite of nothing but icing.

Brooklyn looked from Jean to Dolly and back. “Why would she just leave like that? What about Callum and Addy?”

When the two older women exchanged a quick glance, then Dolly went back to staring into her coffee and Jean at her cake, a frisson of dread crept its way up Brooklyn’s spine. “This has something to do with