Out in the Country Read Free

o’clock when she came into the kitchen, and she was surprised to see her mother, looking weary and careworn, at the table, talking on the telephone.
    Last night’s dishes were uncharacteristically piled up by the sink, and Molly set to loading the dishwasher and making fresh coffee while her mother murmured into the phone.
    “Hello, sweetheart.” Lynne hung up the phone with a tired smile. “Are you ready for your day?”
    “I think so.” She’d gone over her lesson plan--teaching one of her favourite poems--several times; she’d even rehearsed her little opening speech in front of the mirror. She was ready. “You look exhausted though, Mom. What’s up?”
    Lynne ran a hand over her face. “There’s been a spanner in the works,” she said, smiling though Molly saw the worry in her eyes. “About the hotel.”
    “You mean Scotland?”
    “Yes.” Lynne bit her lip. “Actually, it looks like I might not be going after all.”
    “What!” Molly set the tin of coffee back on the counter with a surprised bang. “Why on earth not? What’s happened?”
    “Oh, something about the money... you know how these new business ventures are. Perhaps it will get sorted out on its own.” Lynne rose from the table and gave Molly a quick hug. “But enough about me. You need to be thinking about your day! I’ll certainly be thinking of you, and I can’t wait to hear about it all when you come home.”
    Molly nodded. She wanted to ask questions, but her mother looked completely shattered so she poured them both cups of coffee instead.
    “So what happened with Jess?” she finally asked when they were both seated at the kitchen table, mugs in hand.
    “The financing’s fallen through.” A shadow flickered in Lynne’s eyes, and Molly had a feeling her mother wasn’t telling her everything. “Jess is going to call me back today. I’m sure it will be all sorted out.” Yet Lynne didn’t look convinced, and Molly wasn’t either. What, she wondered, was her mother going to do if she didn’t go to Scotland?
    They drank coffee in silence for a few moments, both lost in troubled thoughts.
    Molly glanced at the clock. “I hope it does work out,” she said uncertainly. “I’m sorry I have to go--I want to get to the classroom early.”
    “Of course you do.”
    “Say goodbye to Gram and Granddad for me,” she said as she went to retrieve her things. “I’m sorry I missed them, but I’m glad they’re getting some sleep.”
    “They have to leave this morning, but I know they’ll want to hear all about your day,” Lynne assured her. “Anyway, we’ll see them in a few weeks, when we go up to Vermont to celebrate their fiftieth wedding anniversary, remember?”
    “Don’t worry, I remember.” Molly grinned as her mother’s face cleared momentarily. “I’ll call them tonight, anyway.” She kissed her mother’s cheek, breathed in her familiar lemony scent. “I love you, Mom.”
    “I love you too, sweetheart.” Yet the shadow of anxiety in Lynne’s eyes didn’t disappear as her daughter left the apartment.
     
    Cooper High School needed a lot of things, Molly reflected as she entered the stolid, brick building, crumbling at the corners and two letters missing from its sign. It needed new paint, new desks, new books, new everything. Most of all it needed new teachers.
    With a little smile, a flutter of nervousness in her middle, she opened her briefcase and took out the poems she’d photocopied. When she’d asked about volumes of poetry available for tenth grade English, the principal had laughed rather sourly. “See what’s in the storeroom. There’s no money for anything new.”
    Thank heavens for photocopiers, Molly thought wryly. She was perfectly willing to provide the materials for her students.
    “You’re the newbie.”
    Molly spun around and saw a man leaning against the doorway. He was a bit older than she was herself, perhaps in his early thirties, with slightly longish auburn hair, and