“Good afternoon,” the headmaster started. “I’m Claire Nevitt, the headmaster of the Birchwood Institute of the Arts. You must be Emery Wilson?”
I nodded. “It’s good to meet you. Thank you all for taking the time to speak with me.”
The one other person on the call, someone I didn’t recognize introduced himself as Darryl, the head of human resources. As we went through their questions—mostly standard interview questions for teachers, I became more and more comfortable with the conversation, telling stories about my strongest moments as an educator, admitting that I had a hard time sayingno when my principal or teammates asked me for something, no matter how busy I was, and—best of all—making them laugh along the way. By the end of the conversation, I was loose and relaxed, and it felt like every one of them was an old friend, rather than a stranger interviewing me for a job.
At the end of the call, Melinda asked if I had any questions for her. I asked my usual questions about her leadership style, the typical student profile, and the expectations they had for a successful candidate.
“Well, Emery,” Melinda said as we were wrapping up. “You should hear back from us within a week or two. As we’re approaching the end of the summer, we want to have our faculty in place before back-to-school activities start.”
“Understood. Thank you so much for the time.”
“It was our pleasure,” she assured me, before we all logged off the call.
I sat there for a long time after the interview, reviewing it in my mind and wondering what I would do if I were offered the position. It seemed foolish not to take it—a dream job. But… Mason. I didn’t want to leave him behind, but it also hardly felt fair to ask him to uproot his whole life for me, find new clients, and leave his family.
I closed my eyes briefly and reminded myself that nothing was official yet, and I had at least a few days to think about it.
Or, at least, that’s what I thought. Thursday morning, I woke up to an email from the BIA.
Sender: Birchwood Institute for the Arts
Subject: Offer of Employment
Chapter Twenty-Four
Mason
Myphoneranginsistentlyin my pocket, but considering I had a sheet of drywall in my hands that I was installing, I let it go to voicemail. After I got the drywall up, I pulled my phone out to check it, eyebrows rising when I saw Emery had called. He’d left a voicemailandtexted me to call him whenever I had “a few free minutes,” so I stepped outside, sat in my truck, and gave him a call.
“Hey there,” I said when he answered. “What’s wrong?”
“I got the job,” Emery blurted.
My stomach did a somersault. “Seriously? That’s amazing!”
Over the line, Emery sighed softly. “Are you really excited?”
“Of course I am. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you.” I was being honest, too. Iwasexcited for him. I was a little nervous—alotnervous—about the ramifications for our relationship, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t thrilled for him to be offered his dream job.
“I haven’t decided if I’m going to take it.” His tone was cautious, like he was testing the waters and wasn’t sure how I would respond.
“Em, youhaveto take the job.”
“I don’thaveto.”
I shook my head in frustration, even though he couldn’t see me. “Yes, you do. This is your dream job. You love teaching, and this job is, like, all the things you love about teaching and none of the stuff you hate—state testing, kids forced to take your class for an elective, jumping through hoops with the school board just to put on a show every fall and spring. You are absolutely taking this job.”
“How do you know all this?”
“I listen when you tell me things.”
He hesitated a moment before responding. “What about us?”
“Don’t worry about us. We’ll figure it out. Can we talk about it tonight? I’ll bring home takeout, we can have a couple of drinksin the hot tub, and we’ll hash it all out. For now, just let yourself enjoy the fact that they offered you a job less than twenty-four hours after meeting you. Theylovedyou. You’re going to be a great fit at BIA.” Not a word of it was a lie, either. I was thrilled for him. And if I were being honest, Icouldfind work anywhere. There was no reason not to relocate with him—if he wanted me to, that was. “Look, I need to get back to work, okay? But don’t you dare turn that job down.”
A few moments later, we ended the call and I headed back inside. My mind reeled with all I’d need to do if Emery wanted me to join him in Birchwood Bay. I tried to keep my mind focused on the job at hand, but all I could think about was Emery.
On the way home, I stopped and got takeout from his favorite Chinese restaurant, texting him when I was close to home so he’d know to come to my place for dinner. At home, I plated our meal, turned on some soft music, and set the table while I waited for Emery to arrive. Not five minutes after I’d finished, Emery let himself in, calling out to me.
