Carry the Light by Delia Parr Page B

kind.
    â€œPace yourself, Eleanor,” he said. “When the feet tread slowly, the heart beats steady and the soul listens gently to the universe.” There was a hint of a twinkle in his eyes.
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œHow’s your mother?” he asked, his gaze gentle and concerned.
    She shifted her briefcase. “Doing well, thank you. She’s staying with me for a few weeks, but she’s hoping to be in her own home by Easter.”
    He nodded. “Good. Stop by my office when you finish your last class. And bring your file.”
    She cocked a brow.
    â€œYour personal file,” he elaborated. “I’d like to make sure all your transcripts and certifications are in order before I write my recommendation. May I assume you’re still interested in applying for my job?”
    Her heart skipped a beat. “Are you going to retire this year?”
    â€œAnswering my question with a question of your own leaves me wondering if you want to answer the question at all,” he reprimanded. He insisted on clarity in speech, and had done so for many years supervising students and teachers alike.
    She straightened her shoulders. “Yes. I want to be the supervisor of the language-arts department at Welleswood High School,” she said confidently.
    â€œBetter. Precisely stated and on point.” Then he looked around as if reassuring himself they were alone. “I’ll be tendering my letter, expressing my wish to retire effective July first, to the principal this morning, but I would ask you to keep this information to yourself.”
    â€œCertainly,” she promised, and hoped he couldn’t hear how loudly her heart was pounding or see how her hands were trembling. “I’ll be at your office by eleven forty-five with my personal file.”
    â€œSplendid,” he replied, and stepped away to collect his mail.
    Ellie walked out of the main office as slowly as she could, but the instant she rounded the corner, she started to speed-walk to her office. She shut the door behind her, tossed her purse on top of her desk, put her briefcase on the seat of her chair and raised her arms over her head.
    â€œYes! Yes! Yes!”
    She whooped and did as much of a victory dance as she could in the cramped space until she was breathless.
    Finally, after thirty-five years of teaching!
    Finally, after seven years as department head!
    Finally, after working hard all day and taking classes at night to get the certification she needed!
    Finally, after waiting patiently, year after year, for the position to be open!
    Finally, her career goal to become the department supervisor was within reach!
    Finally!
    â€œCalm down. Slow and steady,” she told herself, repeating her supervisor’s words. She paced the length of her narrow office, calmly and deliberately, breathing deeply as she tried to ground herself in reality instead of dreams.
    Nate Pepperidge might be retiring at the end of the school year, but that didn’t mean she would automatically be appointed to fill his position. Granted, he was held in great esteem by everyone in the school community and the town. With his recommendation and her credentials, she had an excellent chance of landing the job she had coveted for years.
    State law set strict guidelines for local school boards. All positions had to be posted and advertised before qualified applicants were interviewed. Only then could the position be filled. She had also been an educator long enough to know the maxim that seemed to prevail more often than not in most school districts: They would post and advertise every job, but no job would be posted before it was filled.
    Mr. Pepperidge’s plan to network on her behalf was in her favor. Realistically, she also knew that if a member of the school board or a local politician had a relative or friend who wanted the position, she would be history, and she would be long retired before the position would be