"And then you stalked me for weeks," Lena teases.
"What?" Stef says in disbelief. "I did not."
"Oh, yes you did," Lena confirms.
"No, I didn't," Stef blushes.
- Flashback -
Stef kisses Brandon "bye" as he enters his classroom. He shyly waves back to her, or is he waving her away, Stef thinks as she sees her boy huddle towards his friends. She smiles, comforted and knowing that it's just a part of his growing up. She remembers to get Brandon's teacher's attention to let her know that Brandon's dad is picking him up afterschool; an unavoidable communication for parents who are separated.
Going over her schedule for the day, Stef walks purposefully towards the main entrance thinking about the paperwork she needs to catch up on before any serious calls come into the precinct, the meeting she has with the chief later that afternoon, and the evidence inventory she needs to complete, then…she sees her.
Framed in the wide window of her classroom door, Lena listens attentively to a speaking student. She chalks some words on the blackboard and turns back to face her students with an encouraging smile. The gorgeous hair that Stef remembers from over a week ago is swept up atop Lena's head revealing the soft lines of her jaw and neckline, the smooth color of her skin, and the sweetest twinkle in her brown eyes. Stef watches Lena's lips mouth the words, "…and that was the same year the Constitution…" Then Lena is looking right at her.
Paralyzed with embarrassment, Stef doesn't realize that she has been staring at Lena for an endless moment. Stef loudly clears her throat, looks about her as if she's lost her bearings, and continues walking down the hall, quickly disappearing from Lena's view.
"Yes, Jason," Lena returns to addressing a student. "That's the right answer."
Lena smiles to herself.
- Flashback Ends-
"I wasn't stalking you," Stef laughs. "I was on my way out and I got…distracted."
"Then how about the other times?" Lena asks.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Stef says coyly.
- Flashback –
Catching a glimpse of Lena in her classroom door's window becomes a part of Stef's morning drop off routine. Over the last few weeks she has figured out Lena's morning schedule; Math or English on Mondays and Thursdays, Social Studies on Wednesday. On Tuesdays and Fridays, the room is either empty or she's alone correcting homework because her students are at phys. ed., art class or music.
Lena's fashionably understated clothes are always bright with intricate pattern. On cool days she wears a solid colored sweater, left opened or only buttoned in the middle. On some days the sunlight captures Lena's alluring qualities; her smile, caramel smooth skin, and her confidence. Her hair is always put up. On other days the toll of balancing a daily curriculum and shadowing the principal to learn about administrative policy and procedure shows in the dark circles under her eyes. Regardless, she remains poised and pretty.
The appearance of Lena framed by her classroom door's window looks different everyday. Sometimes she is at the blackboard with her back to the door guiding a student through a math problem. Sometimes her hand rests tenderly on a student's shoulder in an attempt to refocus a disruptive pupil while simultaneously maintaining her attention to teach the rest of the class. Sometimes she crouches at a desk with a student in need of a little extra help.
Stef walks by slowly enough to observe the new teacher but quickly enough not to be noticed by her. And on those rare occasions they do make eye contact, it is the only acknowledgement they share. No polite smiles, subtle nods, nor a tentative wave that reveals anything.
On this day, after she leaves Brandon with his friends and his teacher on their journey to learn, Stef is surprised to find Lena's classroom door wide opened. In nylon stockings, Lena makes successive trips up and down a ladder to select the top picture from a pile of fall-themed student artwork then staples them to the space above the blackboard. The repeated sound of paper crinkling in Lena's hands like dry Autumn leaves hypnotically draws Stef in.
"Can I help you with that? Stef asks. She's surprised to find herself across the threshold of the classroom doorway, past the pseudo-one-way glass that she is so used to seeing Lena through.
Standing midway up the ladder, Lena is taken aback by the unexpected visitor in full police uniform. "Is everything okay, officer?"
"I didn't mean to startle you," Stef says looking up at her; a perspective of Lena that Stef experiences for the first time. She likes it. "I just thought it would be more efficient if I handed them to you while you stay up on the ladder."
"That's a great idea. I could definitely use the help, thank you. I'm Lena Adams by the way, the fourth grade teacher," she says as she extends her hand down to shake Stef's. "Have we met before?"
"Stef Foster, I'm Brandon Foster's mom. He just started Kindergarten. You don't have him yet."
"Of course, at 'Meet the Teachers' night last month. Sorry I didn't recognize you right away. Your hair's pulled back and…it's the uniform," Lena says. "When you walked in, I thought something was wrong."
Stef chuckles nervously, "I forget how much of a reaction my uniform gets in people who don't know me. May I?"
Now the artwork crinkles in Stef's hand as she gives it to Lena. Picture after picture is stapled to the wall. After every second one, Stef moves the ladder for Lena, over by about a foot ("Allow me," she says.) and they resume again. They accomplish the task mostly in silence, comfortable in a quiet that is only disturbed by the punch of the staple gun and the crunch of wrinkled paper. When they do talk, it's only about cliché subject matter such as how education has changed since they went to school, how children don't respect adults and authority like they used to "back in our day", how the neighborhood is improving by the noted rise in real estate prices and the drop in crime, and how the weather is much milder this time of year than expected.
After the last picture is stapled, Stef and Lena stand side-by-side to admire their collaborative effort. The distance of their own uneasiness separates them. An awkwardness seeps into the silence as they realize they've been staring up at the artwork much longer than twenty or so pictures could warrant anyone's attention. Neither of them wants the other to leave but neither knows what to say or to do to make the other stay.
Lena sighs. Stef clears her throat.
"Okay! Well, that's it," Lena suddenly says. "Job well done. I would never have finished this before the kids returned. Thank you."
"My pleasure," Stef says. "I should go. I need to document this in my community service log. I was one artwork hanging short of my monthly quota."
Lena laughs; she is caught off-guard by an unexpected blush that colors her cheeks.
"Ms. Adams!" a child blurts from behind Stef. "Did the fish arrive today?"
Stef steps out of the way as a bustling gaggle of fourth graders return to their homeroom. The call of, "Ms. Adams! Ms. Adams!" permeates the room and seems to crescendo around the two adults. Stef makes her exit as Lena tries to answer the barrage of questions and to address the abundance of needs that deluge her at once.
As Lena closes the door behind Stef, a child asks, "What did the police officer want?"
"Ms. Adams! Ms. Adams! Ms. Adams!" are the only words that Stef remembers as they float about her, carry her back to her cruiser, on to work, and through the rest of her day.
- Flashback Ends-