The white and black tiles along the floor were a stark contrast of light and dark. The old pews that lined the narrow aisle were well worn with hundreds of years of use, the halls of the chapel ghosting a century of music below the hallowed arched ceilings.

“I can feel it.” Joan closed her eyes as she stepped inside a pew and sat. “I can feel the peace here, the echoing of years of worship.”

“It was one of my favorite places. So much of what I taught was based on the Bible, but here…here it all came to life.”

Joan nodded, having no words for what they both felt so deeply.

With a slow breath, she stood and turned to him. “And where did you teach?”

Rowles gestured to the hall that led from the chapel. “This way. I doubt we will be able to go inside—a lecture may be taking place—but I can at least give you a closer look.”

“Wouldn’t they welcome you touring the college? You taught here not too long ago, and…”

“As a former Fellow and a duke, they would likely have the choir sing in response to my presence, should I let them know I was here, but I didn’t.” He shrugged. “I wanted to blend in and focus on my time with you. I wanted you to see the place that is so close to my heart, but I didn’t want any fanfare. Just…you.” Rowles paused before a wide wooden door. “It’s empty. We can go in, if you’d like.”

Joan nodded. Heavy wooden desks lined the creaking floor as they walked into the vacant room. Wide chalkboards lined the farthest wall, and Rowles inhaled deeply of the scent of erased chalk and the knowledge it represented.

How he missed teaching!

He led Joan to the front and pulled out a chair for her behind a student desk. Then he went to the front and looked over the lecture hall. Closing his eyes for a moment, he could picture it filled with students, all hungry for information and eager to understand.

“You miss this,” Joan stated, breaking the silence.

“Yes, but it’s not my season.” Rowles opened his eyes and studied his wife. Yes, he missed teaching, but if he hadn’t resigned, he’d likely not have met her.

Joan’s very presence warmed him. “You know…” She stood and walked toward him, her hand reaching out to grasp his. “When we were becoming friends, I had that same thought. There truly is a season for everything.”

“Ecclesiastes.”

“Yes, and maybe this isn’t your season for teaching, but that doesn’t mean that someday the season won’t make a full circle back. And should that time come, I want you to take that opportunity, Rowles.” Joan cupped his face gently.