The New and Improved Education of Amber

Prologue

June 2020

Sitting on the light-pink cushioned window seat, I sat soaking up the breathtaking Hampton morning, feeling so carefree.

The adjective “picturesque” did nothing to fully describe the view that I was taking in. Golden sunlight glimmered on the turquoise water, glistening as the catamaran sailboats raced by.

It was just a perfect June day. Clear skies with a few cumulus clouds scattered around like unwanted invaders to perfection. The gentle breeze was just enough to give the sails the kick in the butt they needed to skirt on by.

I sat sipping my unsweetened iced tea with a hint of lemon, in a glass mason jar and took it all in. I couldn’t wait to get outside and enjoy the day. It was all mine, completely mine. I didn’t have emails to answer or calls to make or papers to grade. I was a teacher on summer vacation; free for 10 whole weeks. Free, free!

Free, as in time on my hands. No boyfriend, no summer job. I was done teaching for the year, and after the year that I just had, I was grateful for the chance to start over this next term.

It was bound to be a better year, right?

Bzzzzzzzzz…my cell phone buzzed from over on the table where it was charging. I totally ignored it for a moment, hating for it to disrupt my peace.

Ding…my IPhone alerted me to the fact I had received a message on Messenger. I ignored that too; it could wait. I knew who it was and didn’t want to deal. When my doorbell rang, I knew that my peace was over.

Chapter 1: Nine months earlier

“So, what made you want to go into education?” the superintendent of Auburn New York asked me from across his silver desk. He looked austere and extremely serious. Too serious, I thought. He wore a navy suit, wired glasses and a stern expression. His hand rested under his chin and he leaned forward in his black leather chair, it screeched whenever he moved. He pursed his lips so that it was hard to see the upper one and suddenly looked deep in thought, ready to spring the next question on me.

I had gone through a series of all-day interviews which began with the principal of Miller Elementary that morning followed by the personnel director, and I finally landed here. Here, in the almighty black leather chair that could decide my fate, my happiness, my chance.

Please let me get this job, I silently begged. It was the chance that I needed to start over. Sometimes all that you need in life is that golden opportunity, that door that swings open at the right time letting you have that second chance that you crave and just need so badly. Maybe this would be it for me?

Superintendent Stein was a tall man, mid 40’s, nice Italian suit, cool tie with mini books imprinted on it. You had to look closely to see that they were little red and yellow books. I

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noticed because I kept focusing on the tie; it was sort of hypnotizing and calming me. Twenty-two little red and yellow books all popping out of a navy tie.

I liked it.

“Umm,” I said, regaining my focus.

Focus, Amber, focus.

“Well,” I began, feeling my confidence rising. “It’s always been a dream of mine to be in a classroom and help students learn and grow.”

He smiled warmly at me, his smile meeting his brown eyes, so I took it as a cue to continue.

“I was that girl in my neighborhood with the chalkboard in my backyard.”,I know that was a bit over the top, but I just felt the need to keep going.

He chuckled. His brown eyes focused on my blue ones.

“My dad got it for me on my tenth birthday and I would have all the kids over and ‘be the teacher.’ It just sort of grew from there,” I told him. “I started ‘Amber’s Tutoring’ when I was 16 helping all the kids on the block, and then I was a teacher’s helper for the kindergartners when I was in high school. And then I guess I had already caught the bug. I have been tutoring two siblings in reading for the past four years also. Jamie is now in 4th grade and her sister Liz is in 6th grade.”

I nervously twirled my amber-colored hair around my finger and then forced myself to stop. It’s such a bad nervous habit. Superintendent Stein didn’t seem to notice, or simply ignored me doing it. He was still looking at me with a smile that met his eyes. He looked and nodded for me to continue.

“I did a detour into the legal world for a few years. I went to college and discovered a love of law too. I worked as a paralegal for 5 years before deciding that a classroom was really where I wanted to be. So, here I am.”

I left out the part about leaving the law firm because of Chase, but that was obviously not a story to share with a prospective boss.

Twenty-three books on his tie, I corrected myself, nervously glancing back at him. I was counting the books on his tie while answering the questions.

I was afraid that he would take the “law detour” as a sign that I wasn’t committed to education. He cleared his throat and I quickly shot my eyes up from his tie to his face and blurted out “Twenty-three books!” before I could stop myself.

He pushed his wire-rimmed glasses back onto the bridge of his nose looking a little surprised at my sudden pronouncement.

“Twenty-three books? he looks at me with a puzzled expression on his face, his brows coming together and his eyes a bit wide.

“The number of books on your tie,” I said, turning beet red, the same bright color as the mug with the words “Super Super” on his desk.

I realized that I may have blown my chance to be Ms. Conklin, third grade teacher. Gone, blown to dust, for looking at the man’s tie. What an idiot I was.

But Superintendent Stein burst out laughing, pushed back his wire glasses and pulled up his tie to look at it. Please tell me that this nice guy has a good sense of humor. I will buy him 100 ties, some with books, some with pencils, some with little boats so the guy can dream of a vacation. So many ties to be bought if only...

“You get the job,” he said laughing. Ummm….did I just hear him right? Seriously? Did he just say what I think that he said? No.

He looked at my shocked face and laughed and extended his hand, which I gratefully took. Glad I got a manicure yesterday, I thought, watching as my pink-tipped hand got lost in his strong grip.

Anyone who can count books while being interviewed for 30 minutes is a multitasker. Welcome aboard, Ms. Conklin,” he said. “The principal loved you and I can see why.”

I looked at him, dumbfounded for a moment and then jumped up and squealed a little too loudly, causing him to stumble back a little. But then he looked at me laughing, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Now,” he said, “bring that energy with you in September.”