I literally have no idea WTF this was, but I finished editing it today anyway. It's nice to be able to set aside little oneshots and create the illusion of progress!
Saint Columba's was fairly modern, as far as Catholic schools went. They had uniforms, religious studies, and nuns, but they also had children's yoga, child psychologists, and ultra-modern lawsuit-proof playgrounds. As Susan Baxter, their principle, always reminded them, this was California.
Tracy Morgan, kindergarten teacher par excellence, was actually Catholic in more than name only, but after four years of teaching at Saint Columba's, she was convinced that put her in the minority among both the teachers and the students. Still, it was a nice place to teach. The rich L.A. parents could be a bit pushy at times, but since they were teaching kindergarten through fifth grade, rather than the students fast approaching the pre-pre-college decisions the situations that arose occasionally could be easily enough handled. For the most part, anyway.
Tracy had graduated from Loyola Merrymount where she had majored in elementary education and had settled in easily enough to her first long-term teaching assignment with the confidence that came from being the oldest of six. Her decision to defect to the private sector after two years in the Los Angeles Unified School District hadn't come easily, but the constant equivocating and testing pressure from the administration had helped to tip the scales. St Columba's had been on a hiring binge at the time, bringing in lots of new, younger teachers to replace a group well past their prime, and Tracy had been largely happy with her new community. Some of the veteran educators had complained that the new batch of teachers were being used as an excuse to push through more educational changes, but none of the new policies and practices the school had introduced had struck Tracy as anything but sensible. Times had changed and schools would have to change with them. The new policy that crotchety Father Blair had complained about in the strongest terms was the one that was currently causing her the most apprehension- the intake parent-teacher conference. She was currently running late to a meeting with Mr. and Mrs. Loughrey-Summers, which was more than enough to make her nervous about one of the few parts of teaching that phased her after six years on the job.
It was enough to make her scream, and when, after getting caught in traffic on her way back from spin class, losing and hunting frantically for her keys, and facing another hour on the worst highways known to mankind, she had spilled coffee on her shell, Tracy been very tempted. Instead, she cursed up a storm, gripped her steering wheel tighter, and resolved to make some attempt at fixing her appearance in the school bathroom before she met with the first pair of parents of her day.
She parked close to a side entrance and used her keycard to swipe herself in, making a beeline to the bathroom. Attempting to smooth down her hair, she quickly wet a paper towel and tried to dab at the coffee stain on her blouse. Hopefully the wrinkled cardigan that she'd spotted in her backseat and taken with her would cover it up.
"Oh," a woman said. Tracey flushed, paper towel still held to her chest, and turned to face a pretty blonde woman in a green crochet dress who had paused by the door to the bathroom, one hand still on the little metal plaque. She didn't recognize the woman and was about to apologize- though for what she couldn't quite articulate, when the other woman beat her to the punch.
"I'm sorry," she said, tucking hair behind one of her ears in a nervous gesture. "Um, one of those days?"
Tracy smiled in response, grateful and still a little embarrassed.
"It has been," she agreed. She looked dubiously at the wrinkled white cardigan she had salvaged from the backseat of her Camry. It would have to do. She nodded to the woman on her way out, her fingers working the slippery buttons as she walked briskly to her classroom.
When she opened the door, a quick glance at the clock revealed she was only few minutes late- still painful of course, but better than the alternative. A second glance about the classroom brought her up short.
Standing in the middle of the room, looking around with a mildly interested expression, was one of the most handsome men she had ever seen. He was tall and well built, dressed in a business suit that she was sure was custom-tailored. He had a light tan, dark hair, and white, even teeth. His polite smile was a thing of beauty. Mr. Loughrey-Summers, she guessed, and wondered if he was some actor she hadn't heard of. He certainly has the bone structure for it. He stepped her way, moving with uncommon grace and they shook hands as Tracy hoped her palms weren't sweating and that her face wasn't flushing.
"Miss Morgan?" he asked.
"Yes, welcome," she said, "Are you Mr. Loughrey-Summers?" He smiled warmly and gave a nod in response, adding
"Yes, and my wife should be here in just a moment... I think she was," and here he broke off as the door creaked open and the pretty blonde from the bathroom entered, her heels squeaking slightly on the linoleum uncovered by the cheap indestructible carpets that seemed to be in every school. The wife's eyes widened in recognition and she gave Tracy a small, slightly embarrassed smile that the returned. What a first impression to make!
"Mrs. Loughrey-Summers?" she asked.
"Call me Buffy," she said, pausing to meet her husband and Tracy in the middle of the room. He stepped closer to his wife took her hand with a smile, before they turned to Tracy and she nodded to the table where they would discuss the couple's child.
Buffy took her seat with the same casual poise her husband had displayed. He looked doubtfully at the small plastic seat but made no comment as he sat. His wife smiled at the picture he made, and Tracy realized just how tall and broad the man was.
"Thank you both for coming in," she began, "and I'm so sorry I was delayed a few minutes." They took her earnestness with easy smiles, and she felt another rush of relief as she continued her welcome spiel.
"I really want to welcome you to St. Columba's, and I hope that your child," she glanced down at the piece of paper on her desk, "Finn?"
Mr. Loughrey-Summers and his wife exchanged happy smiles. It was touching to see the couple still affectionate some five or so years into their marriage. The parents who bickered or acted disinterested in each other or their children sometimes depressed and angered her.
"Yes," Mr. Loughrey-Summers said, still looking at his wife.
"We hope he will be happy here, and we have these little conferences at the beginning of the year to help smooth out the transition and get some information from you both in the hopes that we can help make sure that he has a good year."
"What do you want to know?" Buffy beamed.
"Has he been in school before?" Tracy asked.
"Sort of," she said. "He went to a half-day preschool." Her husband nodded, folding his arms over his chest.
"Does he have any siblings?" she continued.
"Yes," Mr. Loughrey-Summers said. He sounded incredibly satisfied, and his wife shot him a look that Tracy couldn't quite decipher. "Our daughter Katie is nearly four."
"And can you tell me a little bit about Finn?"
The couple exchanged glances.
"He's a good boy," Buffy said, "a little boisterous, but sweet. He makes friends easily, so I'm not so worried about that. Um, he's smart, but he can be a little restless."
"Yes," Mr. Loughrey-Summers said, with a satisfied smile. "But he behaves. Certainly better than I ever did," he added ruefully.
"He's very protective of his sister and his cousins," Buffy added, and her husband nodded.
Tracy tended to be cynical about parents' opinions of their children, but Finn sounded like he was well-socialized at least, and restless didn't necessarily mean disruptive. His parents seemed besotted with their son, and they would hardly be the first, but all the same they seemed clear-headed enough to deal with any issues that might arise. (Though you could never really tell until you had to make a mid-afternoon call to let someone know their precious angel had aggressively bitten every child and adult that approached them).
"Well that sounds great," she chirped. "And you've already let the nurse know about any allergies or medication?"
They nodded.
"He's healthy," Mr. Loughrey-Summers stated. His wife started.
"Oh, Angel," she said, "what about..." He nodded once.
"Yeah, Finn has a cast on at the moment, but it should be off before school actually starts," he said. "If it's not, there's nothing to worry about there so far as playing with the other children goes. It'll be off within the week." Buffy nodded.
"That's good," Tracy said. "How will he be getting to and from school? And will he be in before or aftercare?" The couple exchanged glances again, and Buffy's husband draped an arm over her slim shoulders casually, stroking down her arm.
"I'd like to try to take him in the mornings," he said, "but if I have an early meeting, Buffy and our driver will take him, depending on how she feels."
"I'm pregnant, not incapacitated," she remarked, raising and eyebrow at her husband. He only grinned at her in response. So they were one of those families, Tracy thought. The richer the parents, the less well-adjusted their children often were. Having a driver in L.A. wasn't that unusual but the couple before her, well dressed though they were, hadn't seemed like the sort.
"It's just the morning sickness," Mrs. Loughrey-Summers said defensively. Tracy smiled and nodded, a little confused.
"And is there anything else you want to tell me?" she asked.
The couple exchanged glances. The wife's brow crinkled a little. She couldn't have been over thirty, could she?
"I don't think so," she hedged. Her husband nodded.
"No allergies, no behavioural issues," he said. "Nothing really out of the ordinary for a little boy."
Tracy plastered a smile on her face.
"Well that's great," she said, before launching into the first year curriculum spiel. The couple took the speech well, only asking a few questions, and Tracy was relieved when they finished slightly ahead of schedule and she had a moment to wait before the next pair of parents arrived.
They took their leave graciously, each shaking her hand, and wishing her a pleasant day.
As she waited in her classroom she noticed them standing outside what she assumed was their car in the parking lot. He had his hands on her shoulders, and she rested hers against his chest. As she watched, he swept a hand down her back and tugged her a little closer, tilting her chin up for a kiss. Tracy caught her breath and then looked away, feeling guilty about intruding on what seemed like a private moment. Still, with all the dysfunctional families that passed through her classroom, it was a pleasure to see a nice, normal couple who seemed very much in love. And with that thought she turned back to her papers.