She stares down at the sidewalk, lost in her own tormented world; a world of what could have been, what should have been but will never be. I know that world, well.

“Man, how great is tiramisu, though?” I dramatically sigh.

She laughs and lightly nudges me with her elbow.

*

“This is me.”

We stop in front of a large, Victorian home that has been separated into units.

“Daniel, I had an absolutely amazing time. Thank you.”

“Denise, this was a perfect evening, and if you ever need a break from grading and paperwork, let me know. We’ll do this again, and you can tell me all about the novel you’re writing.”

“Deal,” she laughs. Then, she grows somber. “Listen, I know tonight was nothing but harmless, and we’re adults, but let’s keep it to ourselves, okay? It’s not technically against the rules for a teacher to see the parent of a student socially, but Principal Craig really, really frowns on it and I’m still relatively new to Concord. If it got around, it could make things kind of difficult for me at work.”

“Our secret. My lips are sealed. Scout’s honor.”

She smiles.

“Good night, Daniel.”

“Good night, Denise.”

We hug.

“Thank you, again,” she says next to my ear.

“Thank you.”

She turns and walks up the path to the door. I wait on the sidewalk as she gets out her key and opens the door. She looks back at me and gives me a slight wave.

I wave back.

Once she closes the door, I begin walking back to the main square, calmer and more content than I’ve been in months.

*

The smile hasn’t left my face by the time I pull into the driveway of the Nightingale House.

I walk through the front door and flip on the light, filling the living room with a warm glow. With a flourish, I toss my jacket onto the couch. I’ve got the place to myself, and I’m going to enjoy it for a while before I go to bed.

I stride into the kitchen and grab a beer from the fridge … and then make it two. I take my beers out into the living room and plop down onto the couch. Firing up the television, I find the Cubs game that I DVR’d this afternoon. I kick off my shoes, prop my feet up on the coffee table, crack open a beer, and settle in.