Previously: Retired teacher Lucinda remembers her favorite student Vernon. Reality interrupts when another boarder Nancy scolds her for talking to her daughter Shirley. She remembers letting it slip to Vernon that she didn’t like Nancy. She helps him with an essay about death, but leans in too close to Vernon.
Lucinda collapsed on the bed and at once fell into a deep sleep. Only minutes seemed to pass when another knock at the door interrupted her rest. Looking at the alarm clock on the nightstand, she saw it was already a little after five o’clock.

“Listen.” Nancy stood on the other side of the door. “We gotta talk.”

“Of course.” Lucinda stood and went straight to her rocker and sat. “Come in.”

“Somehow Shirley has heard the name Vernon Singleberry, and I don’t like it.” She stood in front of the old teacher. Her hands were on her hips.

“Shirley’s a very bright young lady, and she deserves to know the truth.”

“Maybe someday.” She narrowed her eyes and shook a finger at Lucinda. “But not now and for damn sure not from you.”

The old woman rubbed her chest and tried to show a knowing smile. “She already knows the story about the movie star is foolish. That’s why she doesn’t like school.”

“What’s so bad about not likin’ school?” she asked with a sneer. “I hated school.”

“Don’t you want better for Shirley?” Lucinda leaned forward in her rocker.

“What the hell’s wrong with being a beautician?” Nancy folded her arms across her chest and pinched her lips.

“Nothing. It’s just that—“

“Stop it,” she interrupted with acid on her tongue. “I ain’t your student no more. You ain’t nobody’s teacher no more. Nobody cares what you think. Git it?”

“Yes.” Lucinda fell back in her chair.

“If you don’t stop this, I’m goin’ to tell everyone the truth.” Nancy stepped closer and lowered her voice in a threat. “You had the hots for Vernon. Yeah, I know about the time you fell all over him. Vernon was so dumb he thought you had lost your balance, but I knew you wanted to cop a feel. Do you want these old biddies to know about that?”

“No,” she replied, too tired to fight back.

“Good. We understand each other. Don’t talk about Vernon again.” Nancy turned and slammed the door on her way out.

Lucinda breathed in, trying to fill her lungs and found herself swept back to her classroom. When she saw Vernon enter she smiled. He wore another sweater and, for once, has no books in his arms.

“Mrs. Cambridge?” he asked in a shy whisper. “May I speak to you a moment?”

“Vernon. I’m so glad you came back.” She smiled. “You’ve really been a comfort to me today.”

“Oh. Then maybe I should come back another time. I’ve got a problem.” Vernon shuffled his feet and looked down.

“Don’t mind me.” Lucinda motioned to a chair. “You know I always told you to come to me when you’ve got a problem.”

“Thank you.” He sat but kept his head down.

“Well, what is it?” She touching the tips of her fingers together, assuming the posture of a sage. “Some assignment giving you trouble?”

“No.”

“Coach Cummins harassing you again about your game playing?” She was running out of possibilities.

“No.”

Her hands went to her face as Lucinda straightened in her chair. “This is right before Christmas of your sophomore year, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“It’s Nancy Meyers.” She felt a knot tighten in her stomach.

“Yes.”

“I remember now,” she whispered.

“Mrs. Cambridge, I love Nancy very much.” He paused to search for the right words. “She’s the only girl who’s ever cared for me.”

“Oh, I’m sure others—“

“I mean,” he interrupted her, “she’s the only one who thought — who took me seriously as — you know, as someone you might want to love and — maybe — spend the rest of your life with. And I do, I do want to spend the rest of my life with her.” Vernon paused. “But not starting right now.”

“She’s pregnant.”

“Yes.”

“And it’s your baby.”

“If we get married right now.” His eyes strayed out the window. “I’d have to take fewer classes so I could work.”

“But you can’t take less than twelve hours or—“

“Or I’ll be drafted and sent to Vietnam,” he finished her sentence. A grimace darkened his face. “I don’t want to go to Vietnam. I’m afraid I’ll die there.” Vernon put his head down into the palms of his hands and cried.

Lucinda’s impulse was to go to him and put her arms around him, but she restrained herself, remembering the previous incident. “Vernon, Vernon, that’s all right.”

“I don’t know what to do.” He shook his head.

“There, there.” She thought if she continued to sit there she would begin to cry herself.

“Damn. Only babies cry,” he chided under his breath.

“Are you sure? Sometimes girls think they’re pregnant and they’re really not.”

“It’s for real.” He nodded, now staring at the floor. “She went to the doctor today.”

Without thinking about what she was doing, Lucinda stood to go to the chalk board and wrote the word “parents” as though she were about to parse a sentence. “How about your parents? Do you think they would help out enough to allow you to maintain a full class load?”

“My old man?” Vernon snorted. “You must be kidding.”

“Her parents?” She began to add those words to her list.

“They don’t have any money to spare.” He shrugged. “They’re as poor as we are.”

“Or least that’s what she says.” Her hand holding the chalk stayed motionless.

“Yeah.” Sniffing, Vernon sat up straight and looked at Lucinda with an incredulous glare. “That’s not a very nice thing to say.”

She turned back to Vernon, rolling the chalk between her hands. “I don’t know how to say this without hurting your feelings, Vernon, but Nancy isn’t as nice as you think.”

“What do you mean?” He took a handkerchief out and wiped his eyes.