Lessons From A Younger Lover. Zuri Day
twenty years ago.”
“You’re kidding! I mean, it’s just that you don’t look that old.”
“Forty is old to you? You must be twenty-something.”
“Twenty-six,” Joanna replied sheepishly. “And it’s not that forty is old, it’s just that, well, you look my age.”
Gwen cut her a sideways glance.
“Well, maybe a few years older, but midthirties, max. I hope I still look as good when I’m…”
“Old?” Gwen finished the sentence with a laugh.
“Boy, I sure know how to make a first impression, huh?”
“No worries. I accept what I’m sure is a compliment in the manner it was given.”
“You know,” Joanna whispered, moving closer to Gwen. “I bet you’ve got all kinds of juicy stories about the teenaged Adam Johnson. I hear he was quite a character, though no one wants to give specifics.”
They reached the end of the corridor. Joanna stopped. “My classroom is this way. Hey, let’s get together once your position is official. I’ll be pulling for you, although seriously, your competition is slim to none.” She reached inside her purse and pulled out a business card. “Here’s my cell number. Call me when you get settled in. Lunch is on me.” Then, with a wink and a smile, she was gone.
Gwen walked down the colorfully painted hall and made a right at the end of the corridor. She entered an office with posters covering almost every inch of wall. A white-haired lady sat behind a counter. Clearing her throat as she reached the barrier that separated guest from employee, Gwen straightened an already perfectly fitting suit coat.
“Yes, may I help you?” the elderly lady asked.
“My name is Gwen Smith. I have an appointment with Mr. Johnson.”
“Ah, the first-grade teacher,” the woman said as her blue eyes brightened. “My name is Mrs. Summers. Come right this way.”
Gwen walked behind the counter to a short hall with doors on both sides. She stopped as her escort knocked on the first one. A familiar voice rang out from within. “Yes?”
Mrs. Summers cracked open the door and stuck her head inside. “Mr. Johnson, the first-grade teacher, uh, rather the candidate is here.” Without waiting for an answer she nodded her head, extended her hand, and motioned Gwen inside.
Gwen tried to still her rapidly beating heart. It had been a long time since she’d seen Adam Johnson, the man she’d fantasized about, along with half the school’s female population. She felt fifteen again, her hands clammy and throat dry. She swallowed, trying to calm the nervousness, but her feet remained planted to the floor and it wasn’t until Mrs. Summers spoke that she was propelled out of immobility.
“Mrs. Smith, ahem, Gwen? Right this way?”
“Oh, yes,” Gwen finally responded. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Summers.”
Mrs. Summers stepped back. Gwen closed her eyes and swallowed once more before stepping through the door. She could barely contain herself as every image of the chocolate-drop jock Adam Johnson came rushing to the forefront of her mind. She placed a smile on her face, entered the lion’s den…and saw a grizzly sitting behind the desk. In spite of her shock, she called upon every ounce of professionalism that she possessed, kept the smile in place, and approached Adam with hand outstretched.
“Aw, girl, what’s with the handshake?” Adam asked as he walked over, brushed aside her hand, and enveloped her in a big hug. “We’re friends from back in the day.” He hugged her again, in a way that questioned propriety, and then stepped back to roam greedy eyes from head to toe before crushing her to him yet again. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, girl. And better-looking than I remember!”
Gwen tried to catch her breath and process his words at the same time. Where was the fine bar of Hershey’s chocolate, Adam Johnson, and who was this bowl of Jell-O pudding with the beer gut and receding hairline standing in his stead? She searched the face and found remnants of familiarity: yes, those were the same lips, and the mole was still on the right side just under his nose…as she’d remembered. But where was his hair? A flash of memory went back to the long, beautiful Jheri curl Adam sported in the late eighties. And where did his waist go? she wondered, as she discreetly scanned the huge belly that lounged between them.
She forced herself to look back into his eyes. They were the same dark brown orbs that had separated many a woman from her virginity, but the deep bags under them took away from their mysticism and therefore their magnetism. And again, Gwen wondered, where is his hair?
“It’s, uh, it’s so nice to see you, Adam,” she managed finally.
“Yeah, that feeling’s mutual for sure, for sure,” Adam said, unapologetically undressing Gwen with his eyes. “Baby girl, you’ve sure changed since the days of the Sienna Spartans. I’d give you the game ball now!”
The memories of how dismissive Adam used to be of her settled the shock of his unexpected appearance. She stepped back, putting more distance between them. “Time surely changes things, huh?”
Adam’s eyes narrowed a bit as he pondered whether her comment was a jab or simply an observation. He didn’t want to start a fight and decided on the latter. After all, even with a few more pounds and a few less strands of hair, his was still the “rod with the longest prod” in Sienna.
“Have a seat, make yourself comfortable.” Adam gestured to one of two seats sitting in front of his massive, paper-strewn desk, as he made his way behind it. He sat in a large, black leather chair and instantly assumed the position of one who held an applicant’s future in his hands. He moved a few papers and picked up a folder, leaned back in his chair as he studied the contents, and occasionally glanced at Gwen to make sure she recognized his importance.
Gwen forced herself not to fidget. She knew that one, she was qualified for the job; two, she was probably only one of a handful who’d applied; and three, she was probably the only African-American. She’d done her homework, and knew that aside from three Hispanics and one Asian, there were no other minorities besides Adam on the staff at Sienna Elementary. That, along with her credentials, would have to heavily favor her getting the job. The only potential obstacle, at this point, seemed to be sitting in front of her.
“So tell me,” Adam drawled, “why do you think we should hire you over all the other qualified candidate’s résumés we’ve received in the past few months?”
Later, Gwen would congratulate herself on not rolling her eyes. She sat straighter in her chair and answered in a professional and confident voice. “I believe my credentials and references speak for themselves. I formulated lesson plans for the Chicago School District that were not only adopted by our city, but instituted in other states as well. I’ve received commendations each of the past four years, and have a dedication to the improvement of education within the inner cities that rivals that of Marva Collins and other groundbreakers in the educational institution. Additionally, as you know, I am a product of this town, with a personal as well as professional stake in its future success. I know what it’s like to be counted out, to be considered a loser before the race begins, to wonder if big success can come out of a small town. I want to make a difference in these children’s lives. And I believe I can.”
“Well, well,” Adam said, leaning forward in his chair and placing a chubby chin on the steeple shape of his fingers. “It looks like you’ve brought some other things back to Sienna from the windy city of Chicago…like passion.” He licked his lips, so as to leave no doubt what type of passion he meant.
“It’s true. I’m not the same quiet girl who graduated years ago. And I’m not that naive girl either. I’m here for two reasons: to take care of my mother and to provide an excellent educational foundation for the students of Sienna Elementary. Those are the only things I plan to focus on in the near future.”
Adam chuckled. “Gwendolyn Andrews.