Previously: Retired college teacher Lucinda suddenly starts having memories of her favorite student Vernon. He needs help on his first college essay.
“Oh Vernon.” Lucinda sighed. “What a delightful young man.”

Shirley sneaked through the bedroom door, closing it carefully behind her. “Shh!”

“Shirley, your mother made it very clear she doesn’t want you to visit.” Lucinda was in no mood any further outbursts.

“Yeah right.” Shirley had a biting sarcasm unusual for a child of ten. “And she wants me to tell people Warren Beatty is my father.”

“Maybe you should be playing outside.” She smiled bravely. “It’s such a beautiful spring day.”

Shirley walked to the bed and sat on it. “That’s what mama said.” Making a face, she added, “I don’t want to play with those snotty girls.”

“Why?”

She fell back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. “They laugh at mama’s story. They laugh at my name.”

“Shirley is a lovely name.” Lucinda tried to sound encouraging.

“Shirley is an old lady’s name.” She sat up and rolled her eyes. “It’s Warren Beatty’s sister’s name. I feel silly.”

“What name would you like?”

“I don’t know.” She stood and went to Lucinda’s stack of books, picking up the yearbook she held earlier. “Maybe there’s a name in here I’d like.”

“Maybe.” Lucinda’s heart fluttered a bit.

“Who’s that person you wanted me to see?” She flipped through the pages, looking at everything yet nothing in particular.

“Your mother wouldn’t approve.” Her hand slowly went to her chest and moved in a circular fashion.

“Let’s be honest. I love mama, but I don’t think she’s all there — up here.” Shirley pointed to her head. “You know, like Cassie.”

“Please don’t be cruel to your mother and Cassie.” Lucinda sensed a moment of Deja vu. Then she recalled saying the same thing to Vernon just a few moments ago.

“But, really, who’d believe a big movie star like Warren Beatty would have sex with my mama?” Her eyes were wide with a worldly innocence.

“Shirley!”

“There she was, an extra in Bonnie and Clyde, one of a whole lot of girls, and Warren Beatty picks her?” She shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“I agree. It doesn’t make sense. But she’s still your mother.” Lucinda’s second calling could have been a ma’arm at a finishing school.

“So I have to live a lie just because it makes mama happy?” the little girl cocked her head in a perplexing yet respectful manner.

“Well, no but . . . .” Lucinda’s voice trailed off as she realized she had no good answer for the child.

“Shirley! Shirley!” Nancy’s voice boomed from down the hall.

“Uh oh.” The yearbook slipped from her hands, landing at her feet. Shirley stooped to pick it up when her mother stormed through the door.”

“I told you to go outside and play!”

Shirley slowly straightened. “I was on my out when—“

“The hell you were!” Nancy glanced down and picked up the yearbook. “What the hell is this?”

“Well, I—“

“Damn it! I told you not to look at that!” Nancy threw down the book and whacked her daughter on the bottom.

Lucinda rose from her rocking chair. “There’s no reason to strike the poor child!”

“Stay out of this!” She shoved Shirley toward the door. “Get out of here!”

The little girl scampered down the hall to the bed she shared with her mother, entered and slammed the door shut.

“I know it’s none of my business—“

“You got that damn right.”

“. . . but Shirley deserves to know the truth,” Lucinda persisted.

“Don’t you dare preach at me—“

“I’ve been remembering a very special young man today, Vernon Singleberry,” she said as softly and gently as she could.

Nancy took a menacing step toward the old teacher. “If you ever mention that name in front of Shirley I’ll knock the crap out of you. I don’t care how old you are!” She turned and stormed out of the room, practically knocking over Bertha Godwin, Mrs. Lawrence’s sister.

“Miz Cambridge, may I come in?” Bertha held her hands as her fingers twitched.

“Of course, Mrs. Godwin.” Lucinda sank into her rocking chair.

Bertha entered as though she were approaching a judge’s bench.

“I’m so glad. I know we ain’t talked much, but I’ve always thought you was one of the smartest people I ever met so—“

“Have you ever met anyone who was like a breath of fresh air?” Lucinda had almost retreated back to her classroom, hoping to see Vernon pass through the hall.

“Well, no.” Bertha’s forehead wrinkled. “What I really need is help in makin’ a decision.”

The spell was broken. Bertha had brought her back to the present, and Lucinda decided she must make the best of it. “Of course. What is it?” she asked with a smile.

Bertha looked at the bed. “Do you mind if I take a seat?” Without waiting for a reply Bertha sat and leaned forward to whisper, “The fire marshal came by and told Emma to make some changes.”

Lucinda feared Bertha wanted to place her in the middle of another family argument, and she knew her heart could not stand it. Closing her eyes, she forced herself back ten years to her classroom. She sensed the cold. It was now winter. What encounter would her memory bring forth? Vernon, wearing a heavy winter coat, tromped into the room and dropped his books on a school desk, which caused Lucinda to jump.

“Anything wrong, Miz Cambridge?” Bertha asked.

“That old man! I wish I could kill him!” Vernon growled.

Lucinda looked back and forth between the two and finally focused on Bertha. “Nothing, dear. Go on.

“Well, you’re just about the most perfect person I’ve ever met,” Bertha gushed.

“Daddy did it again! Boy, he thinks I’m so stupid!” Vernon continued his tirade.

“No, Mrs. Godwin, I’m not perfect. Nobody’s perfect. Sometimes — sometimes people like to think they’re perfect, but then things happen to let them know they’re not perfect.” A weight pressed down on her frail shoulders.

“What?” Bertha shook her head.

“Bertha! I told you to clean all the commodes!” Emma screamed from down the hall.

“Oh no. It’s Emma.” She stood and headed for the door.

“If you’re gonna stay under my roof, you’re gonna earn your keep!” Emma’s voice sounded even louder and angrier.

“Oh dear, Mrs. Lawrence is upset,” Lucinda said with apprehension.

“Bertha!” Emma bellowed again.

“I’ve got to go.” When Bertha was at the door she turned back and smiled. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Of course.”

“Bertha!” The last call sounded the scariest.

“Comin’, Emma!”

Lucinda focused her attention back to Vernon and the cold classroom from ten years ago.