fix.
“April,” Claudia interrupted. April had been saying something about her plans to apply to some schools just for the pleasure of turning them down. “April, I really am in a bit of a hurry today. I kind of have to get going.”
“Well. I just wanted to find out if you’d gotten to my test yet.”
“No, not yet,” Claudia lied.
“Do you think you’ll get to it tonight? It’s been three—”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’m going to be able to do any grading tonight. I’m afraid I have some personal business to attend to and I don’t think I’ll be able to get to those tests until, at the earliest, tomorrow night. But they should all be done by Friday.”
“Friday?” April looked as if she’d been slapped.
“Hopefully by Friday.”
“Hopefully?” April looked as if the wait would kill her. “But I really need to know my grade, because if I didn’t get an A and Gretchen Delaney gets an A on the Trig test then she’ll be ahead of me—”
“April, I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you your grade because I haven’t graded your test yet. Even if I had, it wouldn’t be fair to the other kids. If you must know, I haven’t gotten around to grading any of them yet. I’ve had quite a lot going on this week and I’m afraid I’ve been quite a
slacker
as far as my classwork goes. I wish I could tell you otherwise,
believe you me
—”
Claudia had gone too far. April looked as if she’d been slapped again.
Claudia cleared her throat. “Anyway, I do need to get going now.”
April’s eyes, which had momentarily clouded over in what could have been the precursor to tears, had now tensed into a look of pity, as if to say,
I should have known you were no better than the rest. I should have known not to trust you.
Christ,
Claudia thought,
leave it to me to piss off the headmaster’s niece. Leave it to me to bring her to tears. Shit.
Claudia put on what she hoped would look like an understanding smile.
“I’m sure you did fine, April. You always do. Regardless, we’re going to have to wait to see until Friday.”
Claudia swung her shoulder bag off the desk. “Try not to sweat it.” She walked over to the door and opened it, the smile still on her face. She held it open for April.
April flipped her hair over her shoulder one last time and laughed through her nose as she walked through the door, apparently her way of telling Claudia that slackers like her couldn’t understand the importance of these things.
Claudia stood there holding the door open to an empty room, watching April’s back as she walked away.
Shit,
was all she could think.
A
flash of white light caught Lindsay’s eye as she passed Bergenstorm’s. She stopped on the sidewalk and took a step backward and it flashed at her again, a beam from the display window’s overhead spotlight hitting the mirrored surface of some jewelry. Initially, she’d thought the light had been a reflection of the sun, because it was such a bright day, a midwinter treat. The nice weather had brought a lot of people outside. Lindsay stepped out of the foot traffic on Michigan Avenue and up to the jewelry store’s window, her breath misting it in the January chill. A locket had signaled her.
It was very similar to her great-great-grandmother’s, handed down through the generations, which now waited in her mother’s anxious hands. And it would have to keep waiting.
The heart-shaped locket was displayed on a bed of rumpled black velvet, meticulously arranged to look casually thrown there. Even the design on its surface was eerily familiar. Her family’s heir-loom probably was Bergenstorm’s silver. Established in 1885, the marquee proudly declared on the awning over her head, not unlike Tate’s Pharmacy and Apothecary, proudly established in 1872.
She wondered if her great-great-grandfather Tate had ever imagined that his little store that sold ointments—and probably snake oil—would become the Tate’s drug empire it was
“April,” Claudia interrupted. April had been saying something about her plans to apply to some schools just for the pleasure of turning them down. “April, I really am in a bit of a hurry today. I kind of have to get going.”
“Well. I just wanted to find out if you’d gotten to my test yet.”
“No, not yet,” Claudia lied.
“Do you think you’ll get to it tonight? It’s been three—”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’m going to be able to do any grading tonight. I’m afraid I have some personal business to attend to and I don’t think I’ll be able to get to those tests until, at the earliest, tomorrow night. But they should all be done by Friday.”
“Friday?” April looked as if she’d been slapped.
“Hopefully by Friday.”
“Hopefully?” April looked as if the wait would kill her. “But I really need to know my grade, because if I didn’t get an A and Gretchen Delaney gets an A on the Trig test then she’ll be ahead of me—”
“April, I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you your grade because I haven’t graded your test yet. Even if I had, it wouldn’t be fair to the other kids. If you must know, I haven’t gotten around to grading any of them yet. I’ve had quite a lot going on this week and I’m afraid I’ve been quite a
slacker
as far as my classwork goes. I wish I could tell you otherwise,
believe you me
—”
Claudia had gone too far. April looked as if she’d been slapped again.
Claudia cleared her throat. “Anyway, I do need to get going now.”
April’s eyes, which had momentarily clouded over in what could have been the precursor to tears, had now tensed into a look of pity, as if to say,
I should have known you were no better than the rest. I should have known not to trust you.
Christ,
Claudia thought,
leave it to me to piss off the headmaster’s niece. Leave it to me to bring her to tears. Shit.
Claudia put on what she hoped would look like an understanding smile.
“I’m sure you did fine, April. You always do. Regardless, we’re going to have to wait to see until Friday.”
Claudia swung her shoulder bag off the desk. “Try not to sweat it.” She walked over to the door and opened it, the smile still on her face. She held it open for April.
April flipped her hair over her shoulder one last time and laughed through her nose as she walked through the door, apparently her way of telling Claudia that slackers like her couldn’t understand the importance of these things.
Claudia stood there holding the door open to an empty room, watching April’s back as she walked away.
Shit,
was all she could think.
A
flash of white light caught Lindsay’s eye as she passed Bergenstorm’s. She stopped on the sidewalk and took a step backward and it flashed at her again, a beam from the display window’s overhead spotlight hitting the mirrored surface of some jewelry. Initially, she’d thought the light had been a reflection of the sun, because it was such a bright day, a midwinter treat. The nice weather had brought a lot of people outside. Lindsay stepped out of the foot traffic on Michigan Avenue and up to the jewelry store’s window, her breath misting it in the January chill. A locket had signaled her.
It was very similar to her great-great-grandmother’s, handed down through the generations, which now waited in her mother’s anxious hands. And it would have to keep waiting.
The heart-shaped locket was displayed on a bed of rumpled black velvet, meticulously arranged to look casually thrown there. Even the design on its surface was eerily familiar. Her family’s heir-loom probably was Bergenstorm’s silver. Established in 1885, the marquee proudly declared on the awning over her head, not unlike Tate’s Pharmacy and Apothecary, proudly established in 1872.
She wondered if her great-great-grandfather Tate had ever imagined that his little store that sold ointments—and probably snake oil—would become the Tate’s drug empire it was
Similar Books
