Lesson Learned {Student Teacher Romance}

Chapter 32

Carla fetches us each a glass of sparkling water with a slice of lemon before alerting Will's mother that we have arrived. 

"You can go in," Clara's green eyes are dancing with curiosity as we pass her desk.

Even with Will by my side, my confidence was waning with every step. 

The last time I saw Will's mom, she found me squatting behind a dumpster and talking to myself in the alley behind the Seattle Opera House.  Not my proudest moment.

Hyacinth is seated at an angular silver and glass desk that stands in stark contrast to the ornate Victorian fixtures of the room. She's wearing a tailored red blazer to match the bold cat-eye frame of her snazzy glasses and her hair is swept up in an elegant twist. 

She raises to her heeled feet as soon as she spots her son. I follow Will's lead and set my drink on a coaster while he gives his mother a warm hug. 

"Hello, darling," she kisses Will lightly on the cheek. 

Hyacinth fixes her deep aqua eyes on me. 

How did I miss their uncanny resemblance the night of the charity event? Will has his mother's soulful eyes. 

"Hello, Moira," Hyacinth breathes and takes my hands in hers. 

"You know each other?" Will's brow lifts in adorable shock.

I didn't think she'd remember my name, and that simple gesture means a lot.

"Hello, Ms. Smithe," I smile as she tenderly squeezed my hands.

"Call me, Hye," she waves off the formality with a sly grin. "Will, do you mind if I steal this lovely young woman for a chat?"

"Not at all," he chuckles. "I'm going to check on Moira's mom, Nancy."

Will retreats while Hyacinth gestures for me to take a seat in one of the elegant leather chairs in front of her desk.

"So, Moira," Hyacinth says while I get settled, "Will tells me that you're something of a seamstress."

"He did?" I cough and reach for my glass for a sip of the crisp, citrusy water. 

It's sweet that Will mentioned my passion to his mother, but my heart sinks at the thought of my beloved sewing machine in some yucky pawn shop. 

"Did you make that dress you have on?" Hyacinth asks.

"I did," I glance down at the wrap dress I'd thrown on for our meeting. "It's modeled after Diane Von Furstenberg's iconic design."

I'm eye-level with the only framed photo on Hyacinth's desk. In the slightly faded picture, a much younger Will and his sister are on a beach in front of a large sandcastle. It looks like a very happy memory that I hope to hear about one day. 

"You have great taste," Hyacinth nods her approval. "Now, I'm sure you're wondering why I asked for this meeting."

"Yes."

"Can we keep this between you and me?" She asks. 

"Of course," I mimic zipping my lips.

"Good," Hyacinth chuckles. "I asked Will why he wanted to have your mother placed in our Second Chances program, but I never expected him to answer. He's a very private person, even with me, or perhaps, especially with me because I'm his mother." 

That offhanded comment makes me snort unattractively. 

"Instead," Hyacinth went on. "My son told me that he'd fallen for a wonderful woman who happened to be a student of his. I wasn't excited about the obvious ethical dilemma he was facing, but I was elated to learn that you inspired my son to pursue a different career. Between you, me, and the wall? He was miserable teaching. So, thank you, Moira."