Silent Harbour

Chapter 17: Renewal of Contract

On the way back, I swing by QuikPik Convenience to stock up on goodies for the trick-or-treaters. I end up settling on two variety packs of mixed chocolate bars and an extra large box of ruffle chips. Next, I make a pit stop at Grocery Mart to replenish my pantry. Just as I'm getting ready to check out, I throw two boxes of mandarin oranges into my basket, recalling how my old flatmate would always stock up on fruit as a healthy alternative for the kiddos whose parents sensibly wanted to avoid turning them into sugar fiends. "More kids are getting diabetes these days, you know," she'd say.

My last stop before heading home was Tim's to get two coffees, one for myself and one for Tommy, a breakfast wrap, which I devoured in the car—and a 20-pack of Timbits-to-go.

By the time I pull into the driveway, it's almost 9 o'clock, giving me just enough time to pop into the shower and get some paperwork done before Tommy arrives. After freshening up, I settle in to tackle the ridiculously tall stack of paperwork Erin provided me for the repairs. Despite the quiet atmosphere, it's hard to concentrate – my thoughts keep drifting to the shocking encounter I'd had earlier this morning with a man presumed by our town to be dead.

By the time Tommy arrives, I've already finished my coffee but barely made a dent in the paper stack. I offer Tommy the extra coffee, which he accepts with a quick "Thanks." He gently declines my offer for the Timbits, yet another surprise compared to the Tommy I knew back in my college days.

"I'll be starting with the bathroom since that's going to be the biggest job," he informs me. I follow him up the stairs to the ensuite bathroom. He's got his clipboard out, scanning the room and making notes of what supplies he'll need to grab. He sets down a metal toolbox and the air scrubber he brought to tackle the mold issue. "This area is going to be off limits for a while," he gestures and turns to me, "you'll have to use the bathroom down the hall for the next couple of weeks, and I'll block off this area with plastic tarps before I start ripping out the tiling."

"Let me know if you need any help," I offer. "Actually, I do have an extra pair of goggles and masks in the truck. I might have to take you up on that offer," he counters half-jokingly, half-not. "I'll come and get you when I could use the extra hands. I'd warn you not to get a fancy manicure any time soon, but I bet you still haven't kicked that nail-biting habit of yours." I don't give him the satisfaction of looking down at my hands, instead choosing to fold my arms behind my back.

Tommy gets to work on blocking off his work area, and I return to my desk to finish planning my lessons for tomorrow. I open OneNote and map out an idea for an exercise on literary devices for the ninth graders. Once I have it mostly laid out, I turn my attention to the independent study project Peter had originally assigned to the twelfth graders: the student films. I'll have to sit down with each of the groups to check on their progress and finalize the various submission deadlines accordingly. Not to mention, doing so will buy me time to look at Peter's old rubrics and rework them to my liking.

I'm startled by the sound of the tile saw, revving to life. That was quick. Tommy must have gotten to work on tearing out the old tiling already. The sound is so jarring that I don't even bother attempting to hunker down on my work, and opt instead to fetch a snack from the kitchen. On my way downstairs, I use the reprise afforded to me by the saw momentarily turning off to call out to Tommy and ask him if he'd like anything. I take the return of the sounds of the saw as his indirect answer and don't bother trying again.

By the time I sit down at the dining table with my lunch in hand, I've nearly finished a full episode of The Office. Just as I'm about to take my first bite, the episode is interrupted by a notification popping up on my screen. It's an email from Principal Wright requesting a meeting with me first thing tomorrow morning. There isn't much else mentioned in either the subject line or body, which does little to curb my curiosity. I send a short reply to acknowledge the invitation, and return to watching the show.