Author's Note 1: Although ratings are nice, nothing beats a comment or two about what you liked or disliked about a story. Please take a moment to leave one. Thank you.
Author's Note 2: Inspired by my original story, "The Freshman", which first appeared back in 2000.
Spring 1997
'4W10 ... 4W11 ... 4W13, wait a second, what happened to 4W12?' Susan York asked as she again glanced down at the class schedule in her hand to confirm the room number she was looking for.
Later, she would learn that 4W12 had long ago been combined with 4W11, but that wasn't her immediate concern. Her next class started in five minutes, and the short haired blonde had seriously miscalculated how long it would take to get to Hancock Hall from the building her previous class had been in on the other side of campus. Today was her first day at Haywood Community College, and it had proved an overwhelming kaleidoscope of sights and sounds.
It had been nearly impossible to sleep last night, and even the simplest decisions seemed to take on overwhelming significance. Just picking out what to wear today had taken her nearly an hour, finally deciding on a simple yellow blouse and blue slacks. A choice she had second thoughts about, come the morning. In truth, it was more than her choice of garment that she was having doubts over; it was the idea of returning to school itself.
'It's just nerves,' Susan assured herself as she came to a stop in front of her goal, room 4W16, 'every new student probably goes through this.'
As Susan stepped through the open door, she tried not to think about what she'd left out of her self-assurance -- the simple fact that few if any of her classmates were a few months shy of their forty-ninth birthday.
The clock on the wall showed she'd made it with a few minutes to spare, and Susan quickly sat herself down in the first empty seat she saw. Pulling a small notebook and pen from her carry bag, the older woman focused her attention on the professor in the front of the room as he finished up writing something on the blackboard. She didn't need to look to know that a number of eyes were on her, just as they had been in her previous two classes. In one of them, in which she'd arrived a good ten minutes early, the students had initially mistaken her for their instructor.
Their curiosity was understandable, and Susan could only hope it would prove short-lived. It was going to be hard enough fitting in without constantly being reminded that the last time she'd been in a classroom had been before any of them had been born.
That hadn't been the original plan, of course, especially since her grades in high school had been good enough to be accepted at her first choice school, the University of California, Berkeley. It had been a dream come true, but, as someone far more articulate than Susan had written, life was what happens when you're busy making other plans. And what had happened was an unplanned pregnancy during the latter half of her first year.
That year being 1967, it had been understood without question that the nineteen year old would drop out of school and marry the father of her child. As bad as the situation was, Susan had it better than many girls in similar predicaments. She had known Stephen York since practically kindergarten, and while they'd only begun officially dating during the last years of high school, no one raised an eyebrow when the two unexpectedly rushed to the altar. Not even when Jack York made his appearance seven and a half months later. Another son, and daughter soon followed, along with nearly three decades of happy married life, a union only broken by the unexpected death of her husband.
At forty-six, Susan had found herself a widow with three grown children, the oldest two married with kids of their own, making her a grandmother as well. Having grown up working in the family lumber business that had been started by his grandfather, Jack had easily stepped in to take up the reins of the company she now owned. While not as capable as his older sibling, Brian, her middle child, also found his place at the firm. Diane, on the other hand, declined a place working alongside her brothers, instead taking a variety of jobs since finishing school.
About a month ago, Susan had casually mentioned to her daughter that she was bored. Between the company's continued success and the substantial life insurance that Stephen had left her, she had no need to work, but there had to be something more constructive she could do with her time than simply be one of the 'ladies who lunch'.
What she had been looking for from her youngest and in many ways closest child, was some suggestion about where she might volunteer her time. Diana, however, felt she had a better idea. Two days after their chat, Susan came home to find an information booklet about adult education at the local community college, along with a half filled out application waiting for her on the kitchen table.
"College, seriously?" Susan had asked her.
"Why not?" Diane replied. "You've often said that not finishing school was one of your few regrets in life, so, now that you have the time, why not fix that?"
"I've never regretted having you and your brothers," Susan immediately said, taking the comment as a suggestion of such.
"I've never thought that for a moment," Diane replied just as quickly. "You did a fantastic job raising us, but don't you think it's time that you did something just for you?"
"Don't you think I'm a little old for this?" Susan offered, holding up the brochure, she drew attention to the photo of students on its cover, all less than half her age.
"Aren't you the one who always says, never stop learning?" Diane asked in turn. "That life was meant to be a constant exploration of new experiences?"
"You really think this is a good idea?" Susan asked after thinking about it a bit more, thumbing through the booklet as she did.
"I think it's a great idea," Diane replied. "Just take two or three classes in anything you find interesting, just enough to get a feel for things. If it turns out to be not for you, well then, all we've lost is a bit of tuition. Which, I'll also point out, wouldn't be all that much, because they have a special rate for older people returning to school."
"And you don't think I'd be out of place?" Susan further asked, again glancing at the photo on the cover.
"I checked, and there are more people your age taking advantage of the program than you might imagine," Diane said. "Some of them might even be in your classes. So, no, I don't think you'd be out of place."
Susan didn't immediately reply but didn't raise any further objection either.
"Who knows, maybe you'll meet some cute guys," Diane tossed out there. "As I recall, colleges are usually full of them."
"Diane Alexandra!" Susan exclaimed, adding the middle name that usually made an appearance when she wanted to emphasize a point. "I'm old enough to be ... well, I am your mother."
"And far too young to be fitted out for a rocking chair out on the porch," Diane countered. "I know how many men have asked you out since Dad passed, all of whom you've turned down."
"They're not your father," Susan said.
"No, and no one else ever will be," Diane added, "but that doesn't mean that you're supposed to put on a widow's shroud and be celibate the rest of your life. Jack and Brian agree with me, and I know Dad wouldn't have wanted that for you either."
It was hardly a secret to their children, especially Diane who had occupied the bedroom adjacent to her parents, that time's passage had done little to diminish their sex life. In fact, as soon as her brothers moved out, she'd relocated to the first-floor bedroom they'd occupied. The then nineteen year old thought it great that her parents still shared a physical love, but that didn't mean she needed a front row seat to it.
But Diane's point had been made. If nothing else, taking a few college classes would introduce her to new people, people who hadn't been part of her and Stephen's circle. They'd filled out the rest of the applications and chosen a few electives the next day.
The professor introduced himself as Robert Longstreet and welcomed them all to American History 101 -- Post War America 1945-1965. As he went over the syllabus for the semester, Susan took capacious notes, thinking as he outlined topics for discussion that she was sure to have a different take on many of them than her fellow students. After all, to her, many of the things the professor mentioned had been things she'd lived through, not just something written down in a text book.
As the class drew to a close, Susan waited until the rush of students heading off to their next class subsided. She was done for the day and saw no need to rush. She took a few moments to review the notes she had taken during the class, her focus on the hastily scribbled lines in front of her causing her not to notice that someone had stopped by her seat.
