Almost as soon as he became a teacher, Eddie Lawson took to finishing his paperwork on Friday nights. Not the typical choice for a man in his twenties at the time, but he particularly loved weekends. Football on Saturdays then walks followed by a quiet pub on Sundays were almost sacred to him. Now it was a habit. So Friday it was.
Rachel Mason had done something similar, but preferred the tranquility of Sunday mornings, having let herself, conscious or subconscious, mull over the previous week, leaving her calmer and maybe even inspired by Sunday. She didn't switch off exactly, but it was as close as she would get.
But it had become a kind of predicament between them. Yet another point over which they could butt heads. Now, their roles were so closely entwined, that they shared almost everything. Constant emails, constant conversations. Constantly having to preempt the other and know how the other would react.
Half of their work required both of their attention, both of their signatures, causing an immediate and unavoidable to and fro. Exacerbating the issue, he had almost immediately learnt that she liked to be on top of every detail so he had no choice but to match her. To his dismay she seemed to finish everything in record speed, never making a single mistake. He had started looking for mistakes, stringently, but no luck so far. She made him work harder. It would likely be a good thing in the long run, but Eddie had no intentions of admitting that for now. He was learning from her too. She had a style and perspective he had not seen before, she offered leniency yet somehow also commanded complete respect.
Similarly, she saw his potential a mile off and a male deputy disliking his female boss was hardly revolutionary, but she'd admit it was taxing. After deciding she liked him well enough and did not want to replace him, she had taken to repeatedly reassuring herself that she would win him round. How, exactly, was proving more of a problem.
"Can't you just switch days? Surely Friday is inconvenient" she said, authoritative as always.
"You switch" he demanded.
"No way. Besides, I have more work than you. It's only fair that you switch" her arms crossed.
"Oh sure" he spat back.
"Fine. Send me your address and I'll pick it up" her eyes rolled.
"But you won't know when I'm finished. I'll drop it off" he would not allow her to be the martyr, knowing he would likely never hear the end of it. Nor would he let himself be at her beck and call, waiting around at home for her.
"You're going to drop paperwork at my house every weekend indefinitely?" She frowned patronisingly.
"Except it's not indefinitely, you'll be gone by Easter"
"If you say so" she smiled.
"Just send me your address" he skulked out of her office.
