Mrs. Gillespie
Patrick entered the hallway of the old school building. He shivered. It smelled exactly as he remembered his old school. Floor polish, chalk dust and lots of young people crammed together. Far away he could hear the sounds of the school orchestra practicing and slowly walked in the direction of the music.
He prided himself with for once having thought of his eldest son, having remembered a date without his wife having had to remind him. Patrick had finished his evening rounds at a patient's house nearby and when it had started to pour down and not stopped he had thought of Timothy, who would still be at orchestra practice.
At sixteen, Timothy would normally not appreciate being picked up, but given the rain that was slowly developing into a major rainstorm, Patrick knew Timothy would be glad, even if he would probably not show his emotions in front of his friends.
Patrick turned around a corner and found himself in front of the auditorium's closed doors through which he heard the music. He should ask Timothy what they were rehearsing. He himself knew hardly anything about music, Patrick thought.
He looked around. There was another parent, a woman, most likely the mother of one of the other pupils, stood next to the doors and was studying the blackboard, announcing all sorts of dates for the school and other events close by.
He cleared his throat, not consciously, out of habit of announcing his presence. The woman turned around and smiled a smile so radiant it made him smile in return.
"Oh, hello, you are also waiting for your musician?"
Patrick nodded. "Yes, I am. Patrick Turner", he said, extending his hand to the woman who was about one foot smaller than him, and, he assumed about his age.
"Stella Gillespie," the woman said in her very warm voice and firmly shook Patrick's offered hand.
"Oh, you must be Caroline's mother, then?" Patrick asked?
The woman raised her eyebrows. "You know my daughter?"
Patrick smiled. "Not in person. I am Timothy Turner's father. Apparently they sit next to each other during orchestra practice."
"Oh, I see," Mrs Gillespie laughed. "Yes, Caroline mentioned Timothy. Bassoon, right?"
Patrick nodded.
"I haven't seen you before, do you regularly pick up Timothy after practice?" Mrs Gillespie asked.
"Normally no, I don't. I happened to be nearby when it began to rain and for once I remembered Tim's schedule right. I assumed he'd appreciate me taking him home in the car."
Mrs Gillespie smiled. Radiantly, Patrick thought. As if the term had been solely invented to describe her smile.
"Do you pick up Caroline regularly?"
"Yes, I do. I am often working late on Thursdays and it fits my schedule to come by and take her home with me. Sometimes we will stop somewhere and have dinner out."
"I used to do this with Tim," Patrick said contemplatively. "Before his younger siblings were born. Thinking of it, he might appreciate to have some father-son time again. We haven't done this in quite a while."
Mrs Gillespie cocked her head and smiled. "You should do it soon then. It won't be long before they are going leave. I should know, I have two grown sons and I never get to see them since they moved out. Even the one who lives around the corner. So I try to enjoy my time with Caroline as long as I can."
Patrick nodded his head in contemplation. She was right. Not long ago, Timothy was just as little as baby Teddy. And now, the boy would soon leave their home, Patrick thought while watching his son amidst a small crowd of other young musicians emerging out of the doors of the auditorium. He had not even noticed the music had stopped during the conversation with the endearing woman.
"Dad, what are you doing here? Is everything alright?" Timothy, carrying his bassoon and school bag exclaimed concerned when he spotted his father.
Patrick smiled and resisted his urge to ruffle his son's hair. The boy was no longer a boy, he thought. "Yes, everything is alright. I was on my rounds not far from here when it started to rain. I thought you'd appreciate a lift home?"
Timothy smiled a relieved smile and nodded. "That would be great, dad."
Meanwhile, Patrick watched Mrs Gillespie hug a girl who with her straight blonde hair and endearingly round cheeks looked like a younger version of her mother. He noticed how affectionately mother and daughter were talking to each other, Mrs Gillespie taking the instrument case off her girl and having put her arm around Caroline's waist.
The two women approached the Turners and Mrs Gillespie said: "Thank you very much, Mr Turner, for the nice chat."
"It is Dr Turner, mum," Caroline corrected her mother.
"Oh, I wasn't aware," Mrs Gillespie said, her cheeks blushing which Patrick found very lovely. "I apologize, Dr Turner."
"Please, no worries," Patrick hurried to say. "I don't particularly insist on the doctor. And hello, Caroline, nice to meet you, finally," he added, addressing the girl.
Caroline smiled politely and returned his handshake.
Mrs Gillespie smiled. "Well, next time I know. Anyway, it was nice meeting you, and I hope to see you sometime around. Perhaps at the Christmas concert?"
"Dad," Timothy said. "Are we going straight home? If so, we could give Caroline and her mum a lift? They wouldn't have to walk through the rain then."
"Oh, thank you, Timothy, this is very considerate of you, but the walk is not that long, and we -" Mrs Gillespie said, but Patrick interrupted: "Of course, I will be glad to take you along. Timothy is right. I have to apologize for not thinking of this myself."
Mrs Gillespie gave him another one of her adorable smiles and Patrick felt an odd tingle to his stomach. Then the four hurried outside to Patrick's car, through the cold early October rain. When everyone had gotten in, Patrick drove off, and asked Mrs Gillespie for directions to their house. Only five minutes later, the car parked in front of a small Victorian house, located in a neatly cared-for garden.
"Here we are," Patrick said, looking at Mrs Gillespie who held out her hand to him. "Thank you very much, Dr Turner, what a lovely thing to do for us tonight."
Patrick smiled. "Anytime, and it really was my pleasure, Mrs Gillespie and Caroline."
After the two women had gotten out of the car and the Turner men had been waiting until they had closed their front door, Patrick drove off again.
"A very nice girl, Caroline," he said to his son. "I had a bit of a chat with her mother while we were waiting for you in the hallway."
Timothy made a humming sound which Patrick interpreted as "Yes, you're right, dad."
Not soon after, Patrick pulled up in front of the Turner's house. Timothy and his father got out of the car and went into the house. As soon as they closed their door, Angela came running and shouted "Daddy, daddy," jumping into her father's arms.
"Hello, little princess," Patrick laughed. "Aren't you getting bigger by the day."
