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“A thousand apologies for the interruption,” he said. “We’re preparing to enter the National History Bee for the upcoming year. Last year and the year before, two of our students placed in the spring competition. We’re hoping this year we can finally bring home the championship.”
Luke smiled while Jeremiah continued to stare at the floor.
Principal Kennedy picked up the transcripts and began flipping through them again. “Now hold on here. It says in your freshman and sophomores year you took part in the History Bee championship. You were the Illinois State History Bee champion, and the second runner-up at the National History Bee two years ago. Why didn’t you say so?”
State champ? National runner-up? Faintly, Luke recalled receiving texts from Kate about Jeremiah’s competitions while on business trips, but he had never followed up for one reason or another.
Jeremiah looked away and shrugged nonchalantly.
Luke reached over, placing a hand on his wrist. “Principal Kennedy is asking you a question.”
Jeremiah snatched his wrist away. “I guess it slipped my mind.”
Luke gave him a stern look as Principal Kennedy chimed in. “You shouldn’t be so modest, Jeremiah,” he said. “A streak like yours is unheard of. Better than anything we’ve seen from any of our students over the years.”
Luke sat frozen.
How could he have missed so much of his son’s life? And for what? Spreadsheets? Meetings? Needy clients?
He didn’t think he had been that terrible of a father, but now more than ever, he realized his shortcomings.
Looking at his son, he longed to wash away all his mistakes, to tell him sorry for everything. But right now, all he could do was hope the principal would allow Jeremiah to start his senior year.
Principal Kennedy began typing at his computer. “I’m finding all the competitions you’ve participated in over the years. Quite remarkable, Jeremiah.”
Pride swelled within Luke as he looked at his son. “He is, isn’t he?”
The principal leaned back in his chair. “I’ll tell you what, Jeremiah and Mr. Grayson. I’m impressed. Now, I understand the impact a death can have on a student’s coursework, so here’s what I propose: I’ll pass you to your senior year with the condition that for the first semester you’ll be on probation to see how things go. It would also be nice for you to join the school’s history club. They sure could use your help.”
Luke’s heart leaped. “Thank you, sir. We really appreciate it.”
Jeremiah, however, remained quiet and looked down at his hands. Luke knew his son was still upset with him, and he couldn’t blame him.
Principal Kennedy stood up and extended his hand to Luke, who shook it firmly. Then he turned to Jeremiah.
Luke gave Jeremiah a gentle nudge, prompting him to shake the principal’s hand. When Jeremiah finally reciprocated the gesture, Luke’s shoulders relaxed. “We look forward to registering for classes later in the week,” Luke commented, making his way to the door.
Jeremiah was the first out of the office. Luke hurried to catch up, struggling to match his son’s quick pace.
“Son, I’m so proud of you and I’m so sorry for missing all your competitions,” Luke said.
Jeremiah sighed, dismissing him with a cold shoulder as they reached the main entry doors. Luke wanted to keep praising him but sensed now was not the time.
When they arrived home, Jeremiah headed upstairs and slamming his bedroom door.
After a moment’s pause and a deep breath, Luke stepped into his office. Sitting down, he opened his laptop and logged in to his wife’s digital scrapbook, labeled Kate’s Mementos and Memories, which she had put together before falling sick.
A bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of his lips when he saw a picture of himself, Kate, and a five-year-old Jeremiah, happily together. The files were organized by year, and he clicked through the folders of Jeremiah’s freshman and sophomore years. Within those folders, he found photos of Jeremiah holding the trophies and medals he had earned from competitions, videos of him practicing with Kate, and recordings of the competitions themselves.Letting out a heavy sigh, Luke shut his laptop and slumped back in his chair. Tears welled in his eyes as he reflected on the growing distance between him and Jeremiah, each memory like a needle pricking his heart. He made a silent pledge to himself: he would do whatever it took to fix things with his son.
As the weight of the day pressed down on him, the comfort of Emma’s presence lingered in his mind. There was something about her he couldn’t quite put into words. Maybe it was the way she listened or how she seemed to always know exactly what to say. Whatever it was, Luke felt an undeniable pull toward her he hadn’t expected.
He reached for his phone and began to type:
Hey Emma, how are things going?
He paused, rereading the message. Erasing it, he tried again:
Emma, hope you’re doing well tonight.
