Love and Sorrow (Small Town Secrets Book 5), стр. 15

“Yeah.  We’re going to a therapist.”

“Do ya think it’ll help?”

“I’ve got to try something.  What I’ve been doing obviously isn’t working.”

“Guess not.”  Noreen’s cell rang, and she glanced down at it, obviously torn between me and the caller.

“Go ahead,” I said, taking it as my cue to leave.

After draining the cup, I set it in the sink before waving to Noreen.  Then I moved to the living room and kissed my kids on the foreheads, telling them I’d be by later to pick them up.  Devon hugged me like there was no tomorrow and said he loved me.  Sarah hugged me, too, but it felt more like she’d dropped herself into my arms than responded to the gesture.  Then I said goodbye and darted out the door.

Once I was on the road, I glanced at the clock in the van.  The trip to Winchester Community College from here till I’d sit my butt in a classroom chair usually took about twenty minutes—which meant I’d probably spent more time having coffee with Noreen than I should have.  After parking, I snagged my backpack from the passenger’s seat and darted up the slope toward the building.  When I entered, I glanced at the clock in the hallway, refraining from grimacing.  The time was 4:59—but if I was late, it was my own damn fault.  Still, I had a chance.  It wouldn’t have been so bad had the prof in my lit class not been such a fanatic about promptness.

But maybe I could make it.

I sprinted up the stairs and halfway down the empty hall on the second floor, entering a door on the left.  The professor had just started lecturing as I walked through the door, so I hustled toward an empty seat near the middle of the room.  I felt self-conscious, like everyone was staring at me as I dug my books and notebook out of the backpack, the noise seeming to echo throughout the room.  But, of course, no one was ogling me.  The prof was talking and the students were paying attention to his words.  “The exam will be over everything we’ve studied so far this semester.  I recommend you spend the next few days reviewing your notes and the stories we’ve read.”  I had just flipped my notebook open and uncapped my pen when he looked straight at me and said, “Glad you could find time in your busy day to join us, Ms. Miller.”

I gave him a weak smile.  As much as I would have liked to explain my life to him, it would have sounded like one excuse after another, and he wouldn’t understand.  Add to it, I’d stayed at Noreen’s too long.  I just found it frustrating that he took it so goddamned personally that I was all of thirty seconds late, according to the clock in his room.

Besides, why did it matter, considering he’d spend the entire class period droning on and on?  He loved to hear himself talk, and a lot of the students would ask him stupid fucking questions, making me wonder if they’d ever read a story before.  If they’d actually bothered to read the assignments, they’d know the answers.  At least I’d do well on the upcoming exam.  Frequently, I had to remind myself that this was just a stepping stone.  Spending time in the classroom now would lead to a better job and a better life in the future.

At the end of class, I gathered up my junk, shoving it all in my backpack so I could head to my next class.  Fortunately, it was in the same building on the first floor.  As I started to leave, though, the professor stopped me, calling my name, so I turned around.  “Ms. Miller, is there something going on right now that is stopping you from fully participating?”

“What do you mean?”

“You missed class Tuesday night and didn’t call to say why.  That’s an unexcused absence.  Then you were late to class today.  And while in class, although I did see that you took notes, you didn’t participate in class discussion.  You were here in body but not in mind.”

I was, frankly, a little surprised.  I hadn’t expected this man to actually come out and ask what was happening with me—and would he even care?  “I’m having some problems with my daughter right now.  It won’t interfere with my school work.”

“I certainly hope not.  Will you be ready for the test on Tuesday?”

“Absolutely.”

“Very good.”  I adjusted my backpack, hoping I didn’t look as impatient as I felt, even though I wanted to run outside and have a cigarette before my next class started—and the clock was ticking.  “You show a lot of promise, Ms. Miller.  I’d hate to see anything happen at this point.”

Jesus.  The man sounded like a mobster—and if I hadn’t been on the verge of laughing, I probably would have felt really uncomfortable.  “It won’t.  Thanks for asking.”  As I started moving toward the door, I said, “See you next week.”  Then I hurried out of the room, stopping downstairs in my other class long enough to drop off my backpack before retrieving a cigarette and lighter.  Mindful of time, I rushed out the rear door near the classroom toward the designated smoking area.  I was surrounded by a few other people smoking, chattering away, but I kept to myself, trying to get my mind ready for history.

After this semester, I’d be close to having all my basic requirements out of the way, meaning I’d have to settle on a major course of study soon.  I’d toyed with the idea of computers, nursing, and English, but none of them seemed to be a good fit for me.  I was gravitating toward psychology, so maybe I’d take a basic psych class next semester and see if anything clicked—and if the class didn’t resonate, I’d probably just get a degree in business, because I could always find work with it.  Whatever the case,