CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
BRENDA

I had to run away from home. I couldn’t stand the constant noise outside, or the questions being yelled at my front door by the nosy. Some were even from Crossroad’s for heaven’s sake. When I arrived at my parents’ house, my hands shook, but Mom had let me in.

“What’s going on Brenda? Why are you here?” Mom asked, fussing around me, hovering like a bumble bee. “Are you ill? Or is it that article?”

My heart sank in my chest. She knew. Great.

“I have too many reporters and nosy people at my house. I couldn’t stay there anymore. Can I stay here for a couple of days?”

“Of course, darling. Your room will always be yours.” Dad said as he came in, concern etched onto his lined face.

“Thanks, Dad.” I said and went into the kitchen, the usual gathering place in our house. I sat down at the table, going over everything that had happened. I had been so naive, so stupid. How could I have been so blind?

I had spent days dreaming about the possibilities, but never for a second had I considered the consequence of the choices I had made. How could I have been so stupid as to think he’d actually be different, that he’d actually…love me?

I wished I could sink into the ground and disappear. Mom kept asking me why I had trusted someone like that, even if he was from Tender Hills.

“Celebrities are not to be trusted,” she said.

I lowered my eyes in shame as her words washed over me like an ocean wave. I could barely eat the cauliflower casserole she insisted was dinner. Not just because it smelled unappetizing, but because there was a knot in my stomach that wouldn’t let me eat. I didn’t want to face anyone and I’d called into work that morning, but I knew I’d have to go tomorrow. I’d have to face the music, so to speak.

My father, however, was a little more understanding than my mother and always had been. He had a gentler look in his eyes, and gave me a hug instead of a stern talking-to. He reminded me that it was alright to make mistakes after dinner as we talked quietly in the living room while Mom filled the dishwasher.

“It’s often only by experiencing the lows that we truly appreciate the highs, Brenda. You know that by now. This is a learning experience, and you shouldn’t beat yourself up too much.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I murmured, leaning into him on the couch.

“Romance movie or the nightly news?” Dad asked as he reached for the TV remote.

“Neither!” I said loudly, putting my hands over my eyes. “A good comedy would be nice, though.”

“I bet,” Dad chuckled and turned the TV on.

The next morning I got up and got ready for work. I had to go back, even if all I wanted to do was hide. My mom made me a vegan breakfast which I washed down with the thermos of coffee my father snuck me when I walked out the door.

I paused as I pulled into the parking lot at school a little while later, trying to calm myself down. The whole way there I’d worried about what would happen. I wagered a guess that the whole town knew about Cash and I, and what had been printed in that tabloid.

I’d spent so long keeping my life private, keeping my cancer quiet, that now that my life was bared for everyone to judge, I felt extremely exposed. This had invaded far more than my privacy, it had invaded my sense of self as well as my sense of safety. I saw looks from other teachers that left me with no doubts about how they judged me. I heard whispers behind hands, and laughter as jokes were made about me.

I straightened my spine, ignored the titters of laughter, and went into my classroom. The second they all filed in, each student came up to my desk to ask if I was okay, if I’d been sick. One little girl even hugged me with tears in her eyes until I assured her I was fine. That really touched me and reminded me why I loved my job so much, even on trying days like today.

“Now class,” I said after roll call, starting my lesson as I normally would. “Let’s start with our number activities first today, okay? We’re going to play a game.”

The kids squealed with joy and all gathered in our little play area. I loved moments like this, lived for them. We played the game until it was time to start on colors. One little boy didn’t want to stop, even though all the other kids were in their seats. “Now, Robert. You know it’s time to do something else. Please pay attention and get in your seat.”

The little boy looked like he wanted to protest, but then he looked at the other kids. He hung his little head, but he went back to his seat without any further problems. I smiled, about to start handing out the sheets and the crayons for coloring.

I turned my head when I heard a knock at the closed door. The kids all went quiet and turned their heads too. I expected to see another teacher in need of help or the principal. Instead, I saw Cash standing there with a bunch of flowers under his chin.

“Are they just letting anyone walk in these days?” I mumbled to myself just as one of the kids screamed Cash’s name. The other kids all got excited too, though I’m not sure if they recognized him or if they were just excitable. “Now, class, we use our inside voices, don’t we?”

I stared at all of them until they went quiet and then went to the door. “Take your flowers and go away,” I hissed as I slipped through the door and held the knob in my hands.

“Brenda, please, let me apologize. I am so sorry. I didn’t know about your cancer, or what you’ve been through.” He groveled, his eyes down for long moments before he brought them up to mine. I steeled myself against those eyes.

“Who told you?” I hissed, glaring at him.

“Stacey. Please, can you forgive me and give me a second chance? I think I’m in love with you,” he said, his eyes full of apology. I didn’t want to hear it. Especially that last part.

“First of all, it wasn’t Stacey’s place to tell you my business. Second of all, you’ve already had a second chance, remember the restaurant?” I paused, taking a deep breath. “You didn’t trust me. You didn’t give me the benefit of the doubt. You hissed at me and shoved a phone in my face in a temper tantrum that would put those kids in there to shame. No, Cash. You don’t get a third chance. Goodbye.”

Cash stared at me, struggling for words, but none came out. Finally, he turned around and left, the flowers dangling from his right hand. I wiped at the tears falling from my eyes and then went back to class. It was over.