“Are you twelve?” I ask. “I remembered that Allie played basketball in high school and the girls at Elk Lake High want a team.”
“They don’t have one anymore?” she demands. “Why?”
“They claim they don’t have money for it.” I hurry to explain, “But we have an English teacher leaving and it would be great if the new teacher could also coach the girls. If Allie is interested, she might want to apply. That is, if she doesn’t already have a good job.”
“She works the counter at Rosemary’s,” my sister tells me.
“Why?” I ask. “I mean, she’s got a college degree, doesn’t she?”
“She does.” Lorelai hems and haws for a moment before saying, “She went through a rough divorce. She came home to heal and wanted to do something to get out of the house.”
“What did she used to do?” I ask.
“She was an editor at a publishing house.”
“Interesting,” I say. “So, she must love English.”
“It was her major,” Lorelai confirms.
It seems fortuitous that I happened to be home when Allie stopped by today. “Can I have her number?”
“For a job?” My sister sounds disappointed.
“Lorelai.” Even though my tone is stern, I can’t help but wonder if Allie might want to hang out sometime. It might be nice to have someone to grab a bite to eat with occasionally. And who knows, if that goes well, maybe I’d even ask her out on a real date. It’s not like my options for a social life are that great in Elk Lake.
CHAPTER FIVE
ALLIE
Lying against the cushions of my parents’ porch swing, I intermittently lower a bare foot and kick off the deck to stay in motion. I could lie out here for hours, just existing in the moment. I love everything about October, from the cool breeze and the smell of crisp leaves, to the changing hue of the foliage.
Closing my eyes, I reminisce about past autumns. I cover it all, from the joyous simplicity of raking leaves as a child (with the sole purpose of jumping in them) to my last fall, which was my first post-divorce. That one was almost enough to turn me against my favorite season. Almost, but not quite.
Before I can fully stew in my most recent recollections, my phone rings and startles me back into the present. Picking it up off the side table next to the swing, I look at the screen, but I don’t know the number. I normally let these calls go to voicemail, but this one has a Chicago area code, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s Lorelai calling from another phone. “Hello?” I answer tentatively.
“Is this Allie?” I immediately recognize the deep and dulcet tone of Noah Riley. Why ishecalling?
“Yes, it is,” I say so softly I can barely hear myself.
“This is Lorelai’s brother, Noah,” comes the unnecessary information. “I was wondering if you were interested in …”
My face floods with heat which is my visceral reaction to panic. I don’t let Noah finish his sentence before interrupting, “I’m sorry, I’m not interested in dating.”
“Oh, well, that’s fine because that isn’t why I am calling.”
To say I’m mortified would be an understatement of epic proportion.Why did I assume he was calling to ask me out on a date?My heartbeat accelerates when the only other possibility hits me. “Is Lorelai okay? Did something happen to her?”
“She’s fine.” His tone is smooth like warm maple syrup on a fresh stack of pancakes. So much so that I find myself starting to salivate. “I was calling about something else.”
“Are your parents well?” I know I’m grasping at straws here, but I really can’t come up with any other reason why Noah Riley would be contacting me.
“They’re fine. I was wondering if you might be interested in taking a substitute teaching job at the high school. The position would be for the rest of the school year.”
“I’m not a teacher,” I tell him.
“I don’t think you need certification to sub. A college degree is probably enough. Plus, Allie says English was your major.”
“Is that the kind of teacher they’re looking for?” I’ve never considered teaching, but I love reading and talking about reading. Teaching high school English might be a lot of fun.
