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“I have more, but only if you’re ready. I don’t want to make this hard on you,” I assure him, feeling him rest his cheek against the top of my head.
“Thank you, Thea. For all of this.” I lean back to look at him, only intending to offer him a warm smile, but he takes the opportunity to kiss me deeply. He holds my face tenderly, fusing our lips like it’s his source of life. I know the feeling well.
After readjusting my brain after that kiss, I push through the pile of papers, looking for the one I want. “This is an article about a teacher exchange program, apparently Miss Carlisle was part of it. They interviewed her before she went home to Canada.”
He grabs the paper gently like it might crumble to pieces before looking at it.
—
Having the opportunity to teach in the United States has been extraordinary. I came into this expecting to explore a new way of teaching, and maybe a new culture, but I never expected the way it would change my life. Teaching the bright young students of New Liberton Elementary is something I’ll never forget.
It was so much more than what took place during school time hours. You learn who they are as people, and what they’ve gone through in their short lives. You hold them so dear to your heart that it seems unfair to leave them behind.
One child will forever have a piece of me, wherever he goes, and wherever he ends up. I will always be thinking of him and worrying about him. I never had the desire to be an American citizen or a mother. I loved my home in Canada and my life, but I still fought fiercely to gain permanent residence in the United States as my time in the program ended. Solely for the chance to give that boy a loving home.
It didn’t work out for me in that way, and soon, I lost touch with that little boy altogether, but I’ll always be grateful for the chance I had to teach him. To love him. Thank you to all of my students, and my advisors, for allowing me to participate in this life-changing program.
-All my love, Miss Catherine Carlisle
—
His silence begins to worry me. I know he’s finished reading the words by now, but he continues to stare at the page until small rivulets of tears escape his eyes. The wet paths descend his cheeks, landing with a delicate drop onto the old paper. I tug it softly from his hands, wanting to preserve it.
“She didn’t give up on me,” he whispers, though it seems to be to himself. He squeezes his eyes shut and I wipe his cheeks, drying up the moisture, and letting him rest his face in my palm.
“She loved you. She still does.”
“It’s been two decades, she probably barely remembers me now.” He shakes his head, blowing out a deep breath.
“She remembers,” I say, nervous once again. He looks at me peculiarly, trying to figure out what I’m saying. “I spoke to her.”
“What?” His eyes go wide in disbelief.
“I found out where she teaches. She’s about to retire, but I found her email through the school’s website. She never married, her name is the same. I sent her a message and asked if I could talk to her on the phone one day, and I was hoping to reconnect her with an old student. She called me as soon as I sent her your name and my phone number. We talked for a few hours.”
“What?” He says again, as if not processing everything that I’m saying.
Chapter Fifty-One
Jesse
“Jesse, she more than remembers you. She loves you. She cried when I told her about the man you are today. She said the biggest regret of her life was going back to Ontario. She tried to fight immigration, tried to extend her visa, everything, but she was stuck. I didn’t tell her everything else you went through, it’s your story to tell, but I know she didn’t choose to abandon you.”
Thea’s words run through my mind. Miss Carlisle. She found her. She remembers me. She loves me. I can’t believe after all of these years I’m gaining insight on my past. It feels like closure, but at the same time opens an entirely new realm of questions.
“She wants to talk to me?” I ask, still a little dumbfounded. Thea laughs, snapping me out of my haze.
“She wants to see you. She asked me, no begged me, to bring you to see her. She told me she doesn’t have a current passport or she’d be on the next flight out.” She laughs again, charmed by my old teacher. I still can’t believe it.
“That’s my surprise. I want us to fly to Ontario before Christmas for a visit. If you want to of course,” she explains, looking unsure. I realize my lack of communication is making her anxious by the way she’s nibbling on her lip.
“Okay,” I utter, but that’s all I can muster.
“Okay?” She asks, looking nervous, but hopeful. I nod my head, pulling her into my chest. This wonderful woman has changed my life in so many ways, I’ll never understand what I did to deserve her.
“I love you so much, Thea. This is incredible,” I tell her honestly, feeling the love I have for her bursting out of my chest. It feels like how I felt the day I told her I loved her for the first time, but exponentially greater. It’s like I’ll explode if I don’t express how much I love her.
“I love you, too, but I have one more thing to show you. Then I’ll be done.” She laughs, holding me tightly. Her excitement is the only thing keeping my lips sealed, so I nod, urging her to continue.
