Pamela Hearon

Right Where We Started


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       Copyright

       CHAPTER ONE

      Late August

      AN ODD MIXTURE of emotion swept through Audrey Merrill as she opened the wide front door of the iconic redbrick building and led her daughter, Tess, inside. A deep breath filled her head with the unique smell—a combination of the fresh scent of pine cleaner mingling with, though not quite disguising, the odor of musty books, crayons, school glue and seventy-two years of sweaty children returning from recess. The familiar scent, which hadn’t perceptively changed in the twenty-four years since she’d entered these halls as a kindergartner, welcomed her home even while it pinged her heart with memories of the things that had changed.

      The unexpected death of her dad most recently.

      “This place smells exactly like it did when I was your age.” Pausing just inside, she gave Tess’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

      Tess curled her upper lip and sniffed the air, then gave her head a shake, which sent her red curls bouncing. “It doesn’t smell like my old school.”

      The comment brought a smile to Audrey’s lips. “Your ‘old school’ was a lot newer than this one.” At least fifty years she figured, considering the newish neighborhood they’d left only two days ago in Titusville, Florida. “That’s your room.” She nodded to the closed door of the first-grade classroom as they passed it, heartened by the exuberant sound of the children within enjoying some fun activity. Obviously, Mrs. Lively was still on top of her game despite being in her sixties now.

      Tess bounced on her tiptoes and craned her neck, not tall enough to see through the window of the door on the right.

      “You’ll like Mrs. Lively,” Audrey assured her. “She was one of my favorite teachers.”

      The classrooms were lined up in order with even-numbered grades on the left and odd-numbered grades on the right. The last door on the right—the one across from the eighth grade—belonged to the office. Just before they opened it, a whiff of fresh-baked cookies floated from the kitchen, which, along with the cafeteria, was housed at the back of the building.

      Tess’s eyes widened in appreciation as she took a deep sniff. “I like this school. It smells yummy!”

      Marta, the school secretary, looked up from her computer as soon as the door opened. Audrey and Tess had been in Taylor’s Grove barely an hour last month when Marta showed up with her four children, insisting on entertaining Tess while Audrey went to the funeral home and made arrangements. And Pastor O’Malley’s wife, Faith, had been staying around-the-clock with Audrey’s mom, Helen, until Audrey could make the trip from Florida to Kentucky.

      Their kindness had been an important factor in Audrey’s decision to move back home.

      Marta’s face brightened into a welcoming grin. “Hello, Audrey.” Although she’d lived in the States for several years now, Marta’s Honduran accent still set her apart from the natives of Taylor’s Grove. She moved to the counter and directed her smile in Tess’s direction. “And hello, Tess. We are glad to have you with us.” Her dark eyes filled with question as they moved back to Audrey. “Are you back for good so soon?”

      Too soon, Audrey thought, considering the circumstances that brought her back to live in Taylor’s Grove. But she knew it wasn’t what Marta was asking.

      “We got things wrapped up in Florida faster than I expected,” she answered. “And just got to Mom and Da—” she paused to correct herself “—um, Mom’s late yesterday afternoon. But I thought the quicker I could get Tess back into school, the less she would have to catch up on.” Although that wasn’t much of an issue. School had started less than a week ago, and her daughter was very bright.

      “I am sure she will catch up quickly.” Marta directed her comment to Tess, who nodded in response. The young woman reached under the counter and came up with a set of forms attached to a clipboard, which she handed to Audrey. “You will need to fill these papers out. She is starting today, then?”

      Audrey looked at Tess. “What do you think, kiddo?”

      “I think yes.”

      “Okay, then.” Audrey took the papers and sat down in the chair to fill them out.

      Tess pressed her nose against the side light panel by the door. “It smells like cookies out there.”

      Marta gave a soft laugh as she came around the counter and held out her hand. “Shall we go to the kitchen and see if Mrs. Workman will let us sneak one out?”

      “Yes!” Tess caught her hand and led the way out of the office.

      Her daughter was bubbling with enthusiasm about everything this morning, but then, Mrs. Workman’s cookies were worthy of enthusiasm. Being the student picked to take the lunch count to the cafeteria and finding a reward of a warm oatmeal cookie waiting for you was one of the delights of growing up in Taylor’s Grove.

      One of the many delights, Audrey reminded herself once again in an effort to convince her conscience this move was the right thing.

      Her ex-husband, Alex, had done his best to make her feel guilty for moving Tess away from him and his new wife and her two children...and he’d done a good job.

      Audrey could hear the monotonous low tone of Mr. Williams’s voice through the closed door of the principal’s office—another constant from her childhood. It didn’t matter when she left eleven years ago, she’d sworn she’d never move back. Circumstances changed. Life changed. And life changed you.

      But Taylor’s Grove would always be home.

      She stood up to place the completed forms on the counter just as Tess and Marta returned, hands and mouths filled with cookie.

      Marta held out one wrapped in a napkin. “Mrs. Workman says welcome home.”

      “Yay!” Audrey’s mouth watered before she could get the first bite. She gobbled it down while Marta made copies of the various items Audrey had been told to bring with her.

      Finally, all was done. Marta gave Tess a wink. “Are you ready to go meet your teacher and your classmates?”

      “Yes!” Tess did her signature tiptoe bounce.

      Audrey laughed. “I’ve already told her how much she’s going to enjoy Mrs. Lively. What a great lady.”

      Marta’s black eyebrows drew in with concern. “You have not heard then. Mrs. Lively retired two weeks ago.” She lowered her voice to a sympathetic tone. “Her husband has been diagnosed with Parkinson’s, and they have decided to travel while they still can.”

      “Oh.” Audrey’s heart sank at the news. “I hate to hear that. Randall’s been the mailman here for as long as I can remember.”

      “A substitute is filling in for him.” Marta paused as if the remark called for a reverent moment of silence. “But we have a new teacher who has already taken Mrs. Lively’s place,” she said finally. “He is from here, so you probably know him. Mark Dublin?”

      The name threw a punch to Audrey’s gut, knocking the wind from her lungs and depriving her brain of the oxygen needed to think straight.

      Mark Dublin was back in Taylor’s Grove? Was going to be Tess’s teacher? Not if she had any say-so in the matter!

      Marta’s eyes squinted in question and she threw a concerned glance toward Tess. “Do you know... Mr. Dublin?”

      Not wanting to make a scene in front of her daughter, Audrey held her tongue but managed a nod, continuing to try to catch her breath until she could croak out a few words at a time. “Could I...see Mr. Williams, please?”

      “Of course.”