A Thousand Tomorrows / Just Beyond the Clouds

  “What’s his story? He doesn’t have a wedding ring.” They were in the teachers’ lounge, so Elle kept her voice low.

  “No one knows.” The older woman gave Elle a curious look. “He’s a looker; everyone can see that. But in the five years he’s been here, no one has learned a thing about his private life.”

  “Strange.” She kept her comments casual. She didn’t want to appear too interested.

  “Want the rumor?” The teacher looked around. When she was sure there was no one else around she lowered her voice. “People say he’s gay. That would explain a lot.”

  “Gay?” Elle felt her stomach drop. That wasn’t possible, was it? Not based on the way he looked at her. Even so, it gave her a reason to keep her distance. If he wasn’t interested in her, then she wouldn’t make a fool of herself by talking to him more than was absolutely necessary.

  Over the next few months, Elle stayed away from Trace Canton. Better to learn more about him from afar than to put herself at risk for humiliation.

  Just before Christmas break, Trace found her alone in her classroom. “Is it true you’re reading the Nativity to your children?”

  Elle taught a second-grade class. She was working at her desk but she set her pen down to give him her full attention. “Yes, sir.”

  “Please”—he smiled at her—“don’t call me sir. It makes me feel old.”

  “Okay.” She swallowed and glanced at her desk, at a stack of papers her students were to color the next day. Each one had a picture of Mary and Joseph and the manger, with an enormous star overhead. She looked back at Trace. “Yes, I’m reading them the Nativity story. I researched it with the district. We’re allowed to talk about religious holidays, right?”

  “Definitely.” He walked up to the desk and sat on the edge of one of the student tables. “I’m not upset, Ms. Dalton. I admire your determination.” He crossed his arms. Whatever cologne he was wearing, it made her knees feel weak. “I’m a Christian. The day we lose the meaning of Christmas in our public schools will be a sad one, indeed.”

  She could barely find the wherewithal to speak. “Yes. Indeed.”

  Before he left her classroom that day, he took his time examining her wall of papers and posters. She returned to her work, preparing the blackboard for the next day’s lessons. When she turned around, she caught him looking at her, his eyes glancing at the length of her. In the same heartbeat, he refocused and held her gaze a little longer than necessary. “You impress me, Ms. Dalton.” He headed for the door, but stopped and spoke the next words straight to her soul. “More than you know.”

  When he left that afternoon, she was convinced of two things. First, there was something special developing between her and the principal—however complicated that might be. And second, the man was not gay. He was a Christian, after all.

  The rest of the school year was made up of a series of casual meetings and conversations between them, none of which Elle sought. Once he came close to asking her out for coffee, but he stopped himself. At the end of the school year he called her into his office.

  “Ms. Dalton, there are some things you need to know.” He was sitting at his desk, and he looked broken. The confidence he carried as he strolled the halls of Pinewood was completely missing.

  Her heart skipped a beat, and then slid into a strange rhythm. Was this where he would bare his deepest secrets? Was the old teacher in the lunchroom that day right about him, despite everything she’d come to believe? She sat forward and folded her hands. “Okay.”

  “First—”he adjusted his tie and glanced at the door. He looked so nervous she felt sorry for him. “First, my role as principal of this school is one I take very seriously. My plan has always been to work here for ten years and then move into the district office. It’s my dream, and I wouldn’t harm that dream for anything in the world. Education has been my life since I entered college. It’s left me no time to pursue anything personal.”

  Elle had no idea where he was headed with this. “I see,” she said, simply because it seemed right for her to answer somehow.

  He rested his forearms on his desk and slumped his shoulders forward. His eyes met hers and he looked tormented. “Second, I’ve developed feelings for you, Ms. Dalton. Feelings that go”—he looked down for a moment and then back at her—“far beyond my admiration for you as a teacher.”

  Relief spilled into her veins, and her heart found its normal beat again. Trace Canton was not gay. She didn’t break eye contact with him. “Really?”

  “Yes.” He laughed, and it relieved much of the tension between them. “Whew.” He shook his head. “That’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever said.”

  “I…” She felt shy now that his intentions were clear. “I sort of wondered. I mean, I guess I hoped you might feel something for me.”

  His eyes danced as he realized what she was saying. But just as quickly, he grew serious again. “The trouble is, it would be completely inappropriate for me to ask you out, for us to see each other given our current working relationship.”

  “I agree.” The palms of her hands were damp. “It’s one thing for teachers to date. But you’re my boss.”

  “Exactly.” He slid a document across his desk. “Look at this. It’s a request to have you transferred to Barrett Elementary three miles west of here. It’s the same district, but it would allow us…” He paused, and she could hear a tremble in his voice. “It would allow me to do what I’ve wanted to do since the day I met you.”

  Elle could hardly believe her good fortune.

  All along, she’d been telling her mother about Trace, how he was a cheerful man, great with the kids, but how his private life was a mystery. Now, though, the mystery was solved. Trace had been so caught up in education and working his way into the role of principal that he hadn’t had time to date. No wonder he was single.

  Elle accepted the transfer the next day, and when school let out for summer, she and Trace went to dinner. That night, for the first time, he called her by her given name as he opened the car door for her. “You look beautiful, Elle.” Before she climbed in, their eyes held. “I’ve wanted to call you that since September.”

  The connection between them happened quickly and with an intensity that left her dizzy. Of course, they’d already spent nine months pretending they didn’t have feelings for each other. Now that they were able to express themselves, the romance between them took on a life of its own.

  All summer and into the next school year, they were inseparable. They hiked Pikes Peak and three other trails into the mountains surrounding the Springs. They went snow skiing in Vail over a four-day weekend, and golfing at the Broadmoor.

  The subject of purity was one they both agreed on. God wouldn’t bless their relationship unless they put off temptation. On the trip to Vail, they stayed in separate rooms and never considered breaching the boundaries.

  “He’s a perfect gentleman,” Elle told her mother that Christmas. “I never dreamed I’d meet a man like him.”

  Her mother listened, but it took a moment before she said anything. “He sounds a little too good to be true.”

  “Not really.” Elle didn’t want anyone saying anything to mar the way she was feeling. “He’s a man of God, Mother. What more could I ask for?”

  One afternoon, her mother explained her concern. “How old is he?”

  “Thirty-one.” Elle grinned. “Eight years older than me, but that doesn’t bother us. He says I’m more mature than him most of the time.”

  Her mother nodded, thoughtful. “Thirty-one and never been in love. Sort of unusual, don’t you think?”

  “No.” Elle bristled. “He’s been getting his education and training. That’s not unusual, Mother. It’s dedication.”

  Her mother dropped the subject and pulled Elle into a tender hug. “I’m glad you’re happy, honey. You deserve this.”

  Elle’s happiness grew tenfold that New Year’s Eve when Trace took her to dinner at the Broadmoor, and after
dinner—out on a patio overlooking the beautifully lit golf course, he lowered himself to one knee and pulled a velvet box from his pants pocket. His eyes were damp as he searched hers. “Marry me, Elle.”

  “Trace… yes.” She brought her fingers to her lips and then took the box. Inside was a diamond solitaire surrounded by a ring of smaller diamonds. She gasped, and before she could take a breath they were in each other’s arms, hugging and kissing and laughing.

  Their engagement was more of the same, one amazing day after another. The plans came together quickly, and the wedding was set for May. Elle and her mother went to Denver and found a stunning dress, tight along the bodice with a spray of glittery white that made up the skirt and train.

  Three hundred people were invited—the staffs at both elementary schools and family on both sides. Together they picked out the DJ and the ballroom—at the Broadmoor, of course. They laughed as they strolled through Nordstrom, registering for new dishes and crystal and fine china.

  Elle didn’t notice anything amiss until a month before the wedding. They had plans for dinner and a walk, time to talk about the wedding plans and go over the details of the reception. But Trace called half an hour before he was supposed to pick her up. “Um, Elle… I can’t make it tonight. Something’s come up.”

  She was puzzled by his behavior, but she figured it had something to do with the wedding. Maybe he was meeting with someone about the honeymoon. Or maybe he was cooking up some other surprise. She let the incident pass without commenting. But when it happened again later that week, she felt the first tremblings of fear.

  “Trace… is everything okay? With us, I mean.”

  “Of course.” His answer came fast, his tone a little too forced. “Don’t worry, Elle. This is about me.”

  She tried not to think too long about his answer, but his strange behavior continued into the next week and the week after that. Finally, one day after school she showed up at Pinewood and strode into the reception area. She nodded at the woman still seated at the front desk. Then she walked past and into Trace’s office.

  “Hey.” He was on the phone, but at the sight of her he slammed the receiver down and stood. “You can’t walk in here unannounced.”

  “I just did.” She couldn’t make out the emotions in his eyes, but they were nothing she’d ever seen before. “We need to talk, Trace.” She shut the door behind her. “I’m sorry I didn’t call first. But I couldn’t wait. What’s happening with you?”

  He lowered himself to his desk and shielded his eyes with his fingers. He exhaled, almost as if he was still recovering from the sight of her. When he lowered his hands, his expression had changed to one she was more familiar with. “Honey, I told you. This isn’t about you.”

  “Okay, so what’s it about?” Panic coursed through her. She wanted to scream at him. “We’re getting married in ten days, Trace. And you can’t keep a dinner date. Doesn’t that strike you as strange?”

  “I know.” He uttered a weak laugh. “I can imagine how it looks.” He reached across the desk.

  For a moment she didn’t respond. She was too angry. “I can’t live this way. With you keeping things from me. Secrets.” She looked around the room as if the answer might be tangible. “Whatever it is, I can’t take it.”

  “I’m sorry.” He stretched his hand out a little farther. His expression was still pinched, his voice nervous. “Elle, come on, honey. I love you. I told you this isn’t about you.”

  She didn’t want to, but she took his hand anyway. Whatever damage had been done, feeling his fingers against hers was necessary if they were going to find their way back to where they’d been before. She blinked back tears. “I’m about to commit my entire life to you, Trace. Whatever you’ve been dealing with, you need to talk to me about it.”

  “No, Elle.” Something cold flashed in his eyes, and just as quickly it was gone. “No, Elle. It was my problem, and I took care of it. Just some leftover business from my old life.” He smiled at her, the smile that had won her heart. “The lonely life I lived before I met you.”

  She wasn’t satisfied with his answer, but she didn’t know what to do to change his mind.

  Finally, he stood and came around to her side of the desk. “I’m sorry for reacting when you walked in.” He eased her to her feet and drew her into his arms. “I’ve been dealing with a lot, Elle. One of the new teachers isn’t adjusting very well, and I’ve been needed more because of that.” He touched his lips to hers. “Nothing’s changed. Trust me.”

  Despite Trace’s reassurance, Elle’s suspicions remained, but there was nothing that justified her breaking things off. She loved Trace, and if he was feeling stressed about the pending wedding, that only made him human, right? Over the next week, he slipped back into his usual self, making time for her and spending evenings at her apartment going over the details of the wedding.

  The Saturday of the ceremony dawned with thick clouds. Looking back, Elle should’ve seen it as an omen. Especially since the forecast had called for nothing but sunshine. Her mother and Daisy were in town, staying at her apartment, and her other two sisters were at a nearby hotel. The five of them gathered early that morning and fussed over each other’s hair and makeup. Finally, at ten-thirty, they were ready to go. The wedding was slated for eleven, and the drive to the church took just ten minutes.

  A friend at school knew someone who owned a limo service, and arrangements had been made to have one free of charge for Elle and Trace’s big day. The limo whisked them off to the church and they arrived fifteen minutes early. Lots of guests were already there, but the pastor found them in the bridal room. “Have you heard from the groom?”

  Fear colored black streaks across Elle’s perfect morning. “He’s coming by himself. The groomsmen are meeting him here.”

  “Very well.” The pastor looked at his watch. “Is he usually punctual?”

  Elle caught her mother’s nervous glance. She cleared her throat and adjusted her veil. What could she say? Trace was one of the most punctual people she knew. She smiled at the man. “Usually. But if we have to wait for him, we’ll wait.”

  “Absolutely.” He smiled. “See you in a few minutes.”

  Elle’s insides tied in knots. She couldn’t look at her mother, couldn’t imagine the unfathomable thoughts whispering in her mind. Instead she turned to Daisy. “Are you excited about today?”

  “I love to dance.” Daisy smiled. She came to Elle and looked her dress up and down. “You look like an angel, Elle. A pretty angel.”

  “Thanks, Daisy. That’s sweet.” She kissed her sister’s cheek. “You look like an angel, too.”

  The bridesmaids’ dresses were red. Daisy looked down at herself and adjusted her skirt. Then she cast a questioning look at Elle. “Maybe I look like Minnie Mouse.”

  Elle laughed, and for a moment she didn’t feel suffocated with doubts. “Yes, Daisy. You look like Minnie.”

  The minutes slipped away slowly, painfully. When the time reached five till eleven, Elle stationed herself near the window. Her sisters had gone out into the foyer to mingle with the guests. Only her mother remained in the room with her. “Go, Mom. Please? Find out if he’s here.”

  Her mother didn’t say anything. Her pale face said it all. At eleven o’clock sharp, she returned and shook her head. “Does he have a cell phone?”

  “Yes.” She was shaking by then, shivering from head to toe. She could hear her veil crinkling from the way her shoulders shook. She dug through her purse and only then realized that she’d had her phone set to the vibrate mode. When she opened it, she saw that she had four missed calls.

  Frantically she scrolled through them. Each one was from Trace. Her head was spinning and she could barely concentrate. She sat on the edge of a desk chair and put her head down. Anything to get the blood to flow to her brain so she wouldn’t pass out.

  “Elle… what is it?” Her mother knelt by her side, her hand on her shoulder. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

&n
bsp; “It’s Trace.” She lifted her head. “He’s called four times.”

  “Okay, then.” Her mother nodded to the phone. “Call him back. He’s probably just running late.”

  Elle couldn’t stop the spinning in her head. Running late? She clung to the idea. Yes, that had to be it. He had gotten stuck in traffic or his car had broken down, or a pipe had burst beneath his sink. Or maybe he’d stopped to help someone in trouble. There had to be a reason.

  She tried to swallow but her throat was too dry. She lifted the cell phone, but she was shaking too badly to dial his number. “Here.” She handed it to her mother. “Call him for me. Please.”

  Her mother looked as frightened as she was. She took the phone and scrolled through the missed calls. Then she hit the send button. After a few seconds she handed it back. “It’s ringing.”

  On the third ring, Trace answered. From the beginning she could tell he was crying. Weeping, even. “Elle… I’m sorry, honey. I’m so sorry.” Every word was another sob.

  Her heart pounded so hard she was certain it would burst through her chest or stop altogether. She gripped the phone and paced to the window. “Talk to me, Trace. What happened? Were you in an accident?”

  “No.” He had never sounded so distraught. “I can’t do it, Elle. I can’t marry you.” He moaned. “God, why do I feel this way? Why is this happening?”

  She was seeing black spots now. Was he praying? And why now, why his doubts at the very hour they were supposed to be saying their vows? “Trace…” She steadied herself against the window sill and closed her eyes. “I… I don’t understand.”

  “I’ve fought it all my life, Elle.” He stopped crying long enough to explain himself. Even so, his words were punctuated with quiet sobs. “I’m in love with someone else. Another teacher. I tried… I tried to let him go, but I couldn’t.”