Chapter Text
Gregory Eddie has taken a leave of absence for the first time in his nine years at Abbott Elementary. Never a sick day or hospital appointment prior.
His colleagues understand why.
Jacob Hill too utilizes an inaugural turn of grief afflicted separation from his own middle schoolers.
Philadelphia’s spring weather has been dreary and gray since the news spread regarding the airplane disappearing off the radar, its passengers and crew presumed dead. A few District staff members were coming in from a Building Bridges campaign launch in Milwaukee. An excitable Janine Teagues, who jumped at the chance to fly for free, was sadly among them. Some believed that those poor passengers were given cheap, ineffective transport by the irresponsible honchos in charge, known for continuously cutting corners.
The turmoil affected the environment of Abbott Elementary.
Barbara Howard, the veteran kindergarten teacher and Melissa Schemmenti, under her fourth year of instructing combined second and third graders, have conversations laced with tears in between break periods, perhaps regretting past dismissal treatment of their former colleague. Mr. Johnson hums Boys II Men’s Until the End of the Road every evening and a distraught Jacob texts Gregory, both ensuring each is okay. Even Ava Coleman— the neighboring principal at Addington— muted her usual sarcastic remarks when visiting her old workplace, expressing sorrow in her own way. Gregory stays sequestered in a gloomy apartment, reminiscing on their last conversation. He wished to have told her that there was better days to return, that there was no need to rush.
/
“I can’t wait to see you,” a bubbly Janine said, a slight pause, a hesitant catch as though unsure if those words were alright to reveal.
From his navy blue living room sofa, Gregory could hear her dimpled smile over the phone, feel it reach across lands in order to encourage his own lips to upturn. He cannot help how happy he is to listen to her, his hand cradling his cell phone, preferring to hold her instead. When he picked her up at the airport tomorrow afternoon, they would probably embrace and have a hard time letting go.
“Was that too much too soon?” She asked.
“No, not at all,” he said, laughing. “I wanted to say it too.”
“I just… miss you.”
“Me too.”
Gregory has always missed Janine Teagues as a parched man in the desert longs for just a droplet of sweet water to ease his dying throat— even when she was next door to his first grade classroom for two and a half years.
“Oh, Gregory, they just announced our flight is boarding!” Janine exclaimed. “We’ll make plans when I get home, okay?”
“Yes, definitely,” he promised. “Don’t eat too many of your friends on the flight. We know how you get.”
“Now why did you have to bring my sour patch children into this?”
He predicted her heart shared the same raucous energy, beating and beating excitedly, anxious to press against each other to meet its matched harmony again. They knew the time finally arrived, that they were both ready to fully explore the ever present pull between them.
No longer a “broke boi,” Gregory was thirty-four-years-old, in his first year as higher salaried principal while the Garden Goofballs thrived every year with the old members inspiring the newcomers, the lush garden looking more and more splendid. Janine moved up far into her district duties, becoming an executive assistant to the superintendent and still making it over to instruct the Abbott step team.
“I guess this is goodbye, Gregory.”
“Goodbye Janine. See you tomorrow.”
/
It has been seven days past. Seven days since they told him at the airport.
They will host a memorial service next week.
On a Saturday evening though, fresh from tending to his outside plants, Gregory eats another power bar edible and transports elsewhere, his sooty fingers moving along Janine’s dimpled cheekbones in the newspaper square. Ayesha Teagues, the Denver living sister, selected a good photograph.
“Janine,” Gregory released into the atmosphere, a crack in his deep voice, the most heartbreaking sound anyone would have ever heard.
He regrets that he didn’t call her “beautiful” enough and hopes that she knew how much that word embodied her. His face crashed onto the rounded table, soaking the wood with endless sorrows.
Memories arose of their second kiss—years after the “whoopsy.”
If only, he held her closer then, released his pent up agony…
/
Gregory walked his father out to green Eddie & Son company van that was en route to Baltimore. He could not stop smiling, pleased that his idea to invite Janine over was a blessing in disguise. The dinner went surprisingly well.
“Gregory,” Martin Eddie asked, grinning proudly at his son.
“Yes Sir?” Gregory inquired, watching his father get inside the vehicle and roll down the passenger window.
“That’s the one to keep. You can’t let her get away.”
“I know.”
”I see the way you two look at each other— puppy love, pure and simple. It goes in both directions.”
“You think so?”
”I’m wiser than I look, son. She adores you. It’s no time to wait. You better put a ring on it— as you young folks say.”
Gregory laughs and nods, knowing that it’s true. He could see Janine as his wife.
When he reentered his apartment, Janine was washing the dishes, getting soap suds on the sleeves of her form-fitting maroon dress. Maroon is definitely her color, enhancing her radiant complexion, the roses blooming in her cheeks. He stopped her and took over the task, putting her on towel dry duty instead.
“It went well,” Janine said, gently putting three dessert plates into the drying rack.
“Did you think so?” Gregory asked.
”Why? Did your dad say something about me outside? He thought I was too silly? Should I have not made that comment about believing that the squirrels in my neighborhood are addicted to coffee beans?”
“No. No. It’s not that at all. You were perfect, Janine. Absolutely perfect.”
Gregory smiled hard, scrubbing out the small black pot that Janine made polenta in, something she knew he would eat. He greatly appreciated the thought his friend and former coworker put into the meal, into meeting his father. It was a big, generous step for two people still dancing around an obvious attraction. Anyone could see it burning between them.
“I like your dad. He’s colonel you.”
“Colonel? More like general. Since that’s what his role was in the army— after lieutenant of course.”
“It’s funny,” she smiled and lowered her head, shyly tugging a stray curl beneath her ear— Gregory found the action irresistible. “Even though you’re a big time principal now, you don’t have that same militant energy. I guess it’s all those years of teaching.”
“I believe so. It’s got me soft.”
They laughed and stood there, the last of the dishes settled on the rack.
“Everything is in place now,” Gregory continued, looking down on Janine, an undeniable fire arousing within him. “I finally have what I need in my life. How about you?”
Janine stepped a little closer, confident. Her eyes were braver, dark brown doe colors pleasing to Gregory’s arrested gaze. Her cocoa butter vanilla scent tantalized him, coaxed him to understand that he had been in love with his best friend forever. She had to know it.
“I want to come back to Abbott,” Janine said. “I want to teach the second grade again— then I should have almost everything I want.”
“Almost?” Gregory asked, the pull telling him to keep nearing her.
“It probably wouldn’t be right to ask after…”
Gregory extends his hands to cup her bronzed cheeks, blushing warm skin pleasant beneath his palms. He longs to touch the rest of her, having imagined her for years. Other women cannot compare to the effect that Janine Teagues has on his heart, body, and soul.
“Shhhhh,” he said, leaning in.
She lifts her sweet face up slightly to meet his anticipation, the awkwardness between them maturing into the many gratifying experiences that they were now ready to explore...
/
Gregory rubs his eyes from the memory and heads off to his bedroom without bothering to turn on the lights. He collapses into his bed, wrapping himself in covers that mimic Janine’s comforting arms.