But now here they were. Reunited. Having a baby. And…together? Maybe?
As she met with her students’ parents, Olive couldn’t resist letting her thoughts drift. It wasn’t that she didn’t care about these conversations, or about updating the families on the progress of their kids. It was seeing the family dynamic in a new light that kept distracting her with flights of fancy.
Was it possible? Could this be her and Levon? Last night had shed a new light on their relationship, both figuratively and literally, and Olive wouldn’t be Olive if she didn’t examine what had happened from every angle. Could she have made herself ignorant of the possibilities before on purpose? Maybe she was more afraid of making herself vulnerable, of getting hurt, than she could comfortably admit to.
But with Levon… things were different. He didn’t see her brain as something that detracted from her appeal. She had seen that glazed-over look come into men’s faces enough times to know that it was wiser to shut up about her passions and interests.
But being with Levon, Olive felt like she had just been introduced to another way of living—one she had never thought possible outside of a fairytale or romance novel. Here was a man, the father of her child, who listened to her intently—who seemed invigorated when she got excited, the same way his excitement and focus inspired her.
Speaking to all these parents had suddenly become a warm and fuzzy experience. Stop the presses, Olive thought, smiling despite herself, as another duo sat down in front of her. She drew out Colin Wilson’s folder; seeing the name, she almost frowned. But she held it together. Colin Wilson was one of the first students she had assisted Levon in identifying coming out of the hideout, repeatedly. “Mr. and Mrs. Wilson?” She drummed her fingers on the file. “Before we get into it, I wanted to ask you about Colin—”
“Isn’t that our job? To find out how he’s doing from you?” his mother asked imperiously. The father had his eyes turned down to his lap and was scrolling through his phone.
For the first time that evening, Olive had to reach for her reserve of patience. Oh well, it had been bound to happen eventually. “Yes, but what I’m interested to know is if you’ve noticed any behavioral changes with Colin—”
“Our son has never been a stellar student.” His mother raised a challenging brow, as if daring Olive to flunk him. “But he’ll apply himself to other things.”
“Kid should just drop out and get on with it,” said the man beside her. He wasn’t Colin’s father—the file said that the father lived two states over. Who was this, then? A stepfather, maybe, or boyfriend? That had to be difficult…
“Mr. and Mrs.—I mean—” Olive tried to begin again. Maybe if she could just explain it to them better—even hint at the danger—
“Look, is this going to take much longer?” Colin’s mother crossed her arms, her expression sour. “If you want us to find out about our son, then shouldn’t we be getting home to him?”
Chances are you aren’t going to find him at home. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell them as much as they rose and left. But she kept the warning to herself, and wondered if her silence didn’t make her somehow complicit in the awful goings-on. What would Levon do…?
Or maybe a better question: how would the old Olive deal with this, without Levon’s guidance? She was the teacher, after all. She was the one close to these kids, the one with a responsibility to them.
Her next set of parents weren’t much improved in their attitude—and their child, too, Olive had identified coming out of the locked, unmarked door beside the arcade. Their meeting concluded even more quickly than the one before it. The bad taste in her mouth started to turn even more bitter.
Elise Grisham was next. An undernourished woman with nervous, bird-like movements, she was the young single mother of Lani Grisham, one of the few female students Olive had helped Levon identify hanging around the Reapers. The baby chose that moment to kick.
“Elise, can I interest you in a cup of coffee?” Maybe that wasn’t the best overture to make, considering the other woman’s clearly frazzled state. “Maybe a cup of tea?”
“Tea would be nice, thank you, Olive.” Olive rose to attend to her guest. She was aware of Elise’s eyes following her. “How is the baby?” Elise inquired.
Olive turned to pour the hot water and hid her frown. “The baby? Oh, she’s doing great. Thanks for asking.”
My baby may be fine, but what about yours?
She wanted to kick herself for thinking it. She pinned her tongue between her teeth, and carried the cup of tea over for Elise, who nodded gratefully as Olive drew up a chair and sat down beside her.
Olive swallowed. Tapped her desktop with the lid of her pen in deliberation. Then she leaned in. “Elise, there’s something you should know about some suspected activity going on at our school…”
14
Once the parent-teacher conferences were finally done, along with the staff meeting that followed them, Olive was finally able to head back to her classroom to grab her things before she headed home for the
