time her preparation period rolled around, Renee was more than ready for a break from her classes. The third and fourth grade students were not nearly as sweet as her first and second graders. The bad manners some of these students possessed were unreal.
Renee entered the teachers’ lounge and went straight for the coffeepot. She poured a cup and took a much needed sip of the strong, chicory laced blend that was the brew of choice in her new home of New Orleans. Renee took another sip and settled into a well worn recliner.
The teachers’ lounge at St. Katherine’s Episcopal School wasn’t in the running for a spread in
Architectural Digest
, but the school had done the best it could to make the space comfortable. Two round tables sat in the middle of the large room, providing a place for those teachers who did not have to accompany students to the cafeteria to enjoy their lunch. There were three separate seating areas with comfy chairsand mismatched recliners, and an array of old magazines and teacher supply catalogs strewn across battered coffee tables. The entire left wall housed the copy center, with four copy machines Renee tried to steer clear of at all cost. She caused a paper jam every time she touched one of those machines.
Penelope Gaines came through the door and mimicked Renee’s exact steps as she headed for the coffeemaker.
“Caffeine is a gift from God,” Penelope said as she refilled her ceramic mug and added cream and a packet of sweetener.
“You look like you’ve had a rough morning,” Renee commented.
“You, too.” She gestured to the bandage Renee had placed on her forehead after her run in with a wayward curling iron.
“The price of beauty,” Renee answered her friend’s unspoken query.
Penelope tested her coffee, added another pack of sweetener, and came around to the recliner at a right angle to Renee’s. Penelope taught fourth grade math and science. With both of them single and about the same age, it hadn’t surprised Renee that she and Penelope had gravitated toward each other. There was a snarky sense of humor hidden behind the teacher’s fresh, freckled face and red hair that never failed to lift Renee’s spirits even on her worst day.
One of the copy machines made that annoyingly loud beep Renee usually elicited from it. She looked over and grinned in commiserating amusement as the guy bending over the machine poked at the computerized screen. The view was a pleasant surprise on a Monday morning. Thank God for both caffeine and well fitting jeans.
Renee glanced over at Penelope and caught her admiring the view.
“So.” Renee snapped her fingers, causing Penelope’s head to jerk. “What happened this morning?”
“What didn’t happen?” Penelope sighed. “I accidentally flushed one of my contacts down the toilet.”
“I noticed you were wearing your glasses,” Renee commented. “They’re cute.”
“I hate having to wear these glasses.” Penelope grimaced. “Anyway, I get in my car, and it won’t start. Thankfully, Mr. Miller was still at home and was able to give my dead battery a jump. Now if only Mrs. Miller would meet an untimely death, he could give my other battery a jump.”
Renee nearly choked on her coffee.
“What?” her friend protested. “You’ve seen him. Mr. Miller is hot.”
“Hot and married. Happily married as far as I can tell.”
“Yeah, they’re happy,” Penelope griped.
The copy machine beeped again.
“Is that all?” Renee asked, trying to keep her eyes averted from the scene at the copy machine. “A lost contact and a dead battery?”
“And a message from my contractor telling me it’s going to cost more to fix my house than what’s on the estimate. I’m nearly at my breaking point,” Penelope said.
The copy machine beeped again.
“It looks like someone needs rescuing,” Penelope said, placing her mug on the coffee table and pushing herself out of the chair.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll just watch,”
Renee entered the teachers’ lounge and went straight for the coffeepot. She poured a cup and took a much needed sip of the strong, chicory laced blend that was the brew of choice in her new home of New Orleans. Renee took another sip and settled into a well worn recliner.
The teachers’ lounge at St. Katherine’s Episcopal School wasn’t in the running for a spread in
Architectural Digest
, but the school had done the best it could to make the space comfortable. Two round tables sat in the middle of the large room, providing a place for those teachers who did not have to accompany students to the cafeteria to enjoy their lunch. There were three separate seating areas with comfy chairsand mismatched recliners, and an array of old magazines and teacher supply catalogs strewn across battered coffee tables. The entire left wall housed the copy center, with four copy machines Renee tried to steer clear of at all cost. She caused a paper jam every time she touched one of those machines.
Penelope Gaines came through the door and mimicked Renee’s exact steps as she headed for the coffeemaker.
“Caffeine is a gift from God,” Penelope said as she refilled her ceramic mug and added cream and a packet of sweetener.
“You look like you’ve had a rough morning,” Renee commented.
“You, too.” She gestured to the bandage Renee had placed on her forehead after her run in with a wayward curling iron.
“The price of beauty,” Renee answered her friend’s unspoken query.
Penelope tested her coffee, added another pack of sweetener, and came around to the recliner at a right angle to Renee’s. Penelope taught fourth grade math and science. With both of them single and about the same age, it hadn’t surprised Renee that she and Penelope had gravitated toward each other. There was a snarky sense of humor hidden behind the teacher’s fresh, freckled face and red hair that never failed to lift Renee’s spirits even on her worst day.
One of the copy machines made that annoyingly loud beep Renee usually elicited from it. She looked over and grinned in commiserating amusement as the guy bending over the machine poked at the computerized screen. The view was a pleasant surprise on a Monday morning. Thank God for both caffeine and well fitting jeans.
Renee glanced over at Penelope and caught her admiring the view.
“So.” Renee snapped her fingers, causing Penelope’s head to jerk. “What happened this morning?”
“What didn’t happen?” Penelope sighed. “I accidentally flushed one of my contacts down the toilet.”
“I noticed you were wearing your glasses,” Renee commented. “They’re cute.”
“I hate having to wear these glasses.” Penelope grimaced. “Anyway, I get in my car, and it won’t start. Thankfully, Mr. Miller was still at home and was able to give my dead battery a jump. Now if only Mrs. Miller would meet an untimely death, he could give my other battery a jump.”
Renee nearly choked on her coffee.
“What?” her friend protested. “You’ve seen him. Mr. Miller is hot.”
“Hot and married. Happily married as far as I can tell.”
“Yeah, they’re happy,” Penelope griped.
The copy machine beeped again.
“Is that all?” Renee asked, trying to keep her eyes averted from the scene at the copy machine. “A lost contact and a dead battery?”
“And a message from my contractor telling me it’s going to cost more to fix my house than what’s on the estimate. I’m nearly at my breaking point,” Penelope said.
The copy machine beeped again.
“It looks like someone needs rescuing,” Penelope said, placing her mug on the coffee table and pushing herself out of the chair.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll just watch,”
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