Certainly Sensible (3 page)

Megan continued chewing, not even looking up from her book. “What kind of job?”

Susan cleared her throat. “Well, I got a call from the English Department at Rosslyn High School in response to my application, and they have an opening for next school year, teaching ninth grade English.”

Caroline beamed as she gave her mom a quick hug. “Good luck and let me know how it goes.” She unlocked the door leading from the kitchen into the garage and hit the automatic garage opener button.

“Caroline!” Megan called. “I asked you…”

“Not this morning, Megs, I’m running late!”

“Yeah, late to a
non
-job!”

Megan dropped the spoon in her bowl with a clink. “Mom, why didn’t you just apply for a job at Belford High School? They’ve got a huge English Department.”

Susan blew out a puff of air. “I did apply there, Megan, along with about fifty other candidates, most of them fresh out of college.”

Megan got up off the barstool and set her bowl and spoon in the sink. “Mom, I know you’re exaggerating about Belford High, but aren’t there any other schools up here in Hamilton County where you can teach? Indianapolis is like thirty minutes away. That’s a long commute.”

Susan picked up her daughter’s dirty breakfast dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher. “Since I’ve had no response to my applications from any of the other districts up here, I guess an inner-city school in Indianapolis is my best shot.” She grabbed her briefcase and headed to the garage. “Are you ready?”

Megan picked up her book bag from the floor next to the breakfast table, stuffed the literature book inside, and zipped it up. “But, Mom, you aren’t even giving them a chance to call you back.” She followed her mother out into the garage with the door still open from Caroline’s hasty departure.

“Sweetie, I can’t wait for them to call. I have to have an actual paying job, and soon. Just wish me luck, okay?”

Megan shrugged and tossed her book bag into the backseat. “Let’s go. It’s almost eight, and I’ll be marked tardy again.”

****

Caroline pulled into the drive-thru at Peterson’s Coffee Emporium on her way to Meadows Advertising and placed her order for a caffeinated latte, skim milk, no sweetener. At the payment window, she dug into her bag for the cash and realized she was quickly running out of money. Not just coffee money. MONEY. “I’ll have to make coffee at home from now on,” she mumbled as she handed the attendant a five dollar bill. She glanced at the dashboard clock. If she didn’t hurry, she’d hit rush-hour traffic, so she decided not to think about her financial situation for the moment. Besides, the year she had negotiated with Richard was almost up.

“Working nine to five…” blasted through the radio.
Caroline cranked up the volume as she made her turn onto Meridian Street, hoping to drown out her conflicted thoughts.

****

Susan sat nervously in a hard, wooden chair just inside the English Department office. It was designed as a waiting area for students, with several closed office doors belonging to various administrators and their assistants encircling the reception area. A row of chairs lined the wall, but she was the only one there at the moment, and she felt conspicuous because two of the office staff kept sneaking glances at her and whispering. Susan tucked her hair behind her ears and then pushed it back again, crossed and uncrossed her legs, opened her briefcase to check again for copies of her résumé, and looked anxiously around the room for signs that she hadn’t been forgotten.

“Ms. Benedict?” A distinguished-looking older woman emerged from an office.

“Yes,” Susan said, rising to meet her.

“I’m Catherine Renfrow.” Susan shook the woman’s extended hand and then followed her through the open office doorway.

“Please have a seat.” Mrs. Renfrow indicated a wooden chair opposite her oversized desk, and then settled herself into a comfortable swivel chair, its back turned to a large picture window. The view was breathtaking in late spring: lush green lawn, large stately trees, and a well-manicured flower bed surrounding the cement marquee that read
ROSSLYN HIGH SCHOOL, Established 1925.
Susan fumbled in her briefcase for a copy of her résumé.

“Oh, that’s okay, Ms. Benedict—or may I call you Susan?—I have the résumé you emailed with your application.” Mrs. Renfrow smiled at Susan as she donned her reading glasses and looked over the résumé on her computer screen. She was a matronly woman in her late fifties, wearing a navy skirt and loose-fitting cardigan sweater over her ample frame.

“Susan would be just fine.”

“Well, Susan, I see you’ve never had an actual teaching position before.”

Susan squirmed, sure the interview was over before it had even begun. “Yes, that’s true. But it’s not because I didn’t want to teach or that I don’t love children. It’s just that, what with my husband’s career—ex-husband now—and raising children, who are mostly grown except for Megan—she’s still in high school—substituting was all I had time for.” Susan realized she was rambling and stopped. Not a
good beginning.

Mrs. Renfrow nodded. “I understand, and in my opinion, raising children to be productive adults is an admirable occupation.” She adjusted her glasses and went back to reading. “From your résumé, I see you’ve done quite a bit of volunteer work, though. Organizational skills can come in handy here.”

Susan jumped at the chance to talk about something she was so proud of. “Oh, yes, I’ve been involved with a number of different charities. I also spend time volunteering at the public library as a storyteller, and for years I taught Sunday school when my children were younger.” She stopped and swallowed. “Am I talking too much?”

“Not at all,” Mrs. Renfrow said with a polite head nod.

Susan took that to mean she should continue. “Well, then, I also read a great deal on my own, both fiction and nonfiction. I know what books are included in the ninth-grade curriculum, and I’ve read them all. I’ve kept up with all the latest research on how children learn, and I’m up-to-date on the new state standards.”

“Wonderful!” Mrs. Renfrow said as the corners of her mouth tilted up in amusement. “And I’d like to offer you the job.”

Susan nearly fainted. “What?”

“I know you lack experience as a classroom teacher, but I’m impressed with your community involvement and obvious love of children. I’ve interviewed several newly-graduated teachers, but frankly none of them seemed mature enough to take on the challenge of our urban students.”

Susan felt like clapping her hands together with joy, but managed to maintain her dignity. “Thank you for this opportunity, and I’m looking forward to the challenge. Oh, and I’m not planning to use this job as a springboard to someplace less demanding.”

“Well, you’d be surprised at how many teachers do that very thing.”

Mrs. Renfrow shuffled through some forms on her desk and handed them to Susan. “Of course you realize you won’t start until August.”

Susan nodded. “I appreciate you taking a chance on me.”

Mrs. Renfrow stood up and shook Susan’s hand. “Welcome to Rosslyn High School’s English Department. You’ll need to fill out these forms and turn them in to HR.” Susan placed the forms in her briefcase. “I’ll take you down and show you where your classroom will be.” She walked around her desk, opened the office door for Susan, led her through the outer reception area and out into the school’s main lobby. Susan felt like she was floating on air as she followed Mrs. Renfrow on the tour.

****

Caroline glanced at the clock as her car inched along in rush hour traffic along southbound Meridian Street. It looked like she was going to be late to work again. She loved working for Richard at Meadows Advertising Agency, even without a title or much of a salary, and she wasn’t ready to face the inevitable.

“You always seem to know exactly what I need even before I know it myself. And you have the ability to see the smallest typographical error,” Richard had told her during her first summer as an intern.

Caroline had blushed. “It’s a knack I have.”

During her internship year, Caroline gradually took over most of the copy editing duties as well as functioning as Richard’s assistant, taking his messages, scheduling his appointments, and fielding any unwanted phone calls. Now here she was a year out of college, voluntarily working full time with little pay, and all because Richard said he couldn’t do without her. If she was being honest, Caroline couldn’t tear herself away from Richard, either. Salary hadn’t really mattered until a week ago, because Dad was providing her with a generous allowance and she was living rent-free in their family home in Belford.

Now I need a job, probably one that puts some distance between me and Richard and—

Caroline slammed on her brakes as traffic came to a standstill. She glanced at the clock again. “
Move
!” she shouted as she pounded her hand on the steering wheel in frustration. She honked at the car in front of her, whose driver didn’t notice the light turn green.
I’m good at what I do, I know I could earn more money, so why can’t I force myself to leave Meadows Advertising?
She knew the answer: She
could never refuse Richard anything, and in fact felt guilty telling anyone no.
Life was so much easier in college. Have I learned anything since then?

In school she was always being asked to proofread other students’ college essays, for no pay of course. Despite the drain on her time, she’d managed to keep up with her own assignments and excelled in her classes. Junior year, Caroline’s academic advisor had suggested she sign up for a summer internship. Caroline had immediately called her father.

“Dad, do you know any ad agencies or marketing firms where I can get on as a summer intern?”

He said he’d give it some thought. The next day he called her back. “You know my friend Sharlene?”

“Yes, Dad,” Caroline had said as agreeably as she could.

“Well, she and her brother are willing to take you on as an intern in the family business.” Caroline cringed, just imagining what it would be like working for Sharlene.
Friend indeed.

Her dad had met Sharlene—what? four years ago?—and Caroline didn’t think for a minute that Sharlene had made the internship offer out of the goodness of her heart. Sharlene never did anything without an agenda. Naturally her gesture had impressed Daniel. At least Sharlene had been useful in getting Caroline the opportunity, but work for her? Just as Caroline was about to politely turn down the offer, she’d met Richard.

Caroline rolled into the parking lot at eight-forty-five. She pulled the ponytail holder out and shook her hair loose, picked up her handbag with the now-warm yogurt, balanced her Peterson’s coffee and went into Suite 100. Meadows Advertising Agency was a small company consisting of Richard, the CEO, receptionist Lucy Rosen, a part-time sales associate who was rarely in the office, and Jack Anderson, Richard’s best friend from college and now his accountant.

“Good morning, Lucy,” Caroline said.

During Richard’s senior year at IU, his father’s sudden illness had forced Richard to commute back and forth from Bloomington, Indiana, to Indianapolis, finishing his last semester of school mostly online while keeping his father’s business running. His sister and business partner Sharlene was no help at all, since she’d all but abdicated her responsibilities when she met Daniel Benedict. Caroline couldn’t imagine how Richard had managed to juggle both school and work and still cope with his father’s death, but Meadows Advertising was thriving under his leadership four years later.

Caroline knew what a difficult position Richard was in a year ago, what with the tight economy and Sharlene controlling the purse strings from home, but never bothering to step foot in the office. Caroline had thought she had a possible solution. “Richard, I know you need to hire an assistant, but the finances aren’t there right now, so what if I work for half-time salary the first year after I graduate? I live at home with Mom, and Dad pays most of my expenses anyway. It’s a win-win.”

Richard had looked dubious. “That’s not fair, Caroline. You’re worth more than that.”

“Just for a year, until the economy improves. Then we can renegotiate.”

Richard had given that some thought. “Well, I guess Sharlene couldn’t object to that. She’d have to pay that much for a part-timer anyway.”

Caroline had felt elated about getting to stay on with Richard. Sharlene had gleefully agreed to the low-ball salary, and then of course bragged to Daniel about how she’d helped launch his daughter’s professional career.

“Morning, Caroline!” said a cheerful Lucy.

Caroline snapped out of her head just in time to save her coffee from spilling onto the floor. “Hi, Lucy. What’s new?”

“Not much, but the day is young,” Lucy said with a wink. “I’m ordering Chinese for lunch today. You in?”

“Absolutely!”

“The usual?”

Caroline nodded.

“I’ll meet you in the break room at twelve-thirty then,” Lucy said as she put her earphones back on and turned her attention to the caller on the line. “Meadows Advertising. May I help you?”

The small break room down the hall was shared with the other office suites on the first floor of the Koffman Building. Suite 102 housed a law firm, Suites 104-120 were a branch office of Kinley Real Estate Company, and Suite 122 was vacant at the moment. It was rumored that the “investment” company that had been renting the office had fled overnight amid financial improprieties that were being investigated by the state Attorney General’s office. Lucy had gotten a lot of mileage out of that piece of gossip. In fact, Lucy seemed to know everyone’s business and was always happy to spread the news.

Caroline headed to her desk in the far back corner of the suite, down a hallway and wedged between the file cabinets, adjacent to Sharlene’s former office. Sharlene had slowly removed most of her personal belongings, but there were still some photographs on the wall—Sharlene posing with the mayor, Sharlene posing with the runner-up of the Indy 500, Sharlene posing with Daniel in front of Truitt Wellness Corporation—all monuments to Sharlene’s social agenda. Caroline wanted the photos gone, as well as the dead plant in the window. She could make good use of that space, but it remained firmly “Sharlene’s Office.” Richard’s tastefully decorated office was right next to his sister’s nearly empty one. Above the mahogany desk, his father’s golfing mementoes hung on the wall along with Richard’s framed diploma and snapshots of him with family and friends. Four wingback leather chairs ringed the desk in a semi-circle, making the office both businesslike and inviting.
Richard Meadows III—CEO
read the sign on his open door.