A Storybook Finish by Lauralee Bliss

Wheeler.”
    Jeff blinked, realizing what Troy was referring to—the trip
    to Washington, D.C., this weekend when he planned to take
    ten of his star history pupils on a tour of the sites. He’d
    mentioned to Troy his desire for finding one other adult to
    accompany them, for the safety of the group. He had asked
    several teachers but found none available. “I’m sure Miss
    Thomas has other plans.”
    “You don’t have other plans, do you, Miss Thomas?” Jewel
    asked. “I think it would be sweet for you to come along. We’re
    gonna have a great time. How about it?”
    Jeff waited for a look of consternation to form on Lindsay’s
    sleek face at this sudden invitation. He stood there, counting to
    five, anticipating the certain no, she had a dinner date that
    night with handsome Harry or a hair appointment at the salon.
    “I haven’t been to D.C. since I was little. If it’s okay with
    your teacher—”
    Jeff nearly fell over. His knees began to wobble. He grabbed
    the corner of his desk to steady himself.
    “Of course it’s okay with Mr. Wheeler, right?”
    “Sure,” he croaked.
    Lindsay went over to Jewel and began talking with her in a
    hushed voice. Jeff observed the interaction between the two.
    He couldn’t help but marvel how Lindsay integrated with the
    students, much in the same way she’d captured their attention
    that day in the auditorium. Maybe she wasn’t all Goofy
    phones and Silly Slammers, business and boyfriends. Maybe
    there was more to her than met the eye.

51
    Later that night Lindsay called Jeff to discuss the students’
    reaction to the cards. After she slogged her way through the
    sales pitch, explaining how effective the cards would be in
    motivating the students to sell over the weekend, he waited
    for the other items on her agenda.
    “Oh, and about the trip this weekend to Washington, D.C.”
    Here it comes. She has a list of ideas for running the trip,
    like she did the fundraiser, as if she has the history degree.
    “I will totally understand if you don’t think it’s appropriate
    for me to go,” she began. “I realize I’m not on the school faculty.
    In fact, it’s probably better if you had a fellow teacher go
    instead. Or maybe a parent.”
    Jeff had been all set to remind her this was his trip and he
    knew exactly what to do and where to go. Instead, her innocent
    inquiry caught him off guard. No other teachers were
    interested in participating. No one in high school liked
    American history that much. The teachers were more into
    ancient civilizations and European history. At times, Jeff felt
    out of place talking with them. He recalled one debate with a
    teacher who passionately pleaded the cause of England during
    the American Revolution. Jeff countered the statements
    with patriotic quotes, using documents to support his claims.
    The debate grew quite hot until Jeff inquired if the man’s
    relatives had Loyalist leanings. That comment drew a look of
    hostility and a slammed door in his face.
    “Mr. Wheeler?”
    “There isn’t anyone else. The teachers are busy and I never
    asked any of the parents. If you want to go, that’s fine with
    me, but I thought you disliked history.”
    “I do if I have to sit at a desk and listen to a teacher read
    out of a textbook. I like taking trips, though. I guess I’d better
    52 like it with all the traveling I do for my job.”
    “So you don’t work only in this area?”
    “Oh, no. My sales territory spans six counties. It seems as if
    I spend more time in my car driving to appointments than at
    the schools conducting business. Not to say I don’t like to
    drive, because I do. Sometimes, though, I wouldn’t mind if all
    my schools were just around the corner. Then I wouldn’t have
    to leave the house at six A.M. before the sun is even up. In the
    winter, I have to get up while it’s still dark out. I don’t arrive
    home until after dark.”
    “Must be difficult.”
    “It’s not too bad. So what time shall we