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December 21, 1981
"... and thank you so very much for coming," Kathryn Grant said as she gently guided Mrs. Columbo toward the classroom door.
It wasn't until she'd closed the door behind the older woman that the twenty-six-year-old redhead allowed herself a sigh of relief. She was certain the talkative mother of three was going to come up with yet another 'one more thing' that she wanted to discuss. Parent-Teacher's Night was supposed to have ended an hour ago, but so many appointments had gone over their allotted time that the new teacher had run far behind schedule. The worst offenders had been those parents who simply couldn't accept that their son or daughter was anything less than exceptional. The woman who had just left had been a prime example, refusing to believe that her son was only an average student. It took nearly a half hour for Kathryn to make her understand that even an average student at a school like Fisher Prep was a notable accomplishment.
One of the most prestigious schools of its type in New York City, the small citadel of education had been a fixture in Brooklyn Heights for nearly a hundred years, and Kathryn had been fortunate to have secured a position at it. Back when she was studying to become a teacher, the running joke was that someone had to literally die for an opening on the staff to become available. When she'd first heard the line, Kathryn thought it a bit extreme, yet, in the end, that was exactly how she'd gotten the job.
Two weeks before the start of the semester, there had been a sudden death among the staff and, by a fortunate coincidence, Kathryn's resume had been sitting in the inbox of the school's personnel director. It also just so happened that the director was scheduled to leave on a long-delayed vacation the following morning. Unwilling to put off her trip a second time, the woman had deemed Kathryn's qualifications acceptable and, after a hastily arranged interview, hired her -- on a provisional basis, of course.
It was the provisional nature of her employment that made Kathryn more willing to put up with some of the school's more eccentric quirks. Having Parent-Teacher Night on the last day of school before the Christmas Break had been one of those, although it being a progressive institution, the break needed to be referred to as Winter Solstice so as to be more inclusive. Another of the foibles she had to get used to was that not only did the school have a dress code for the students, it had one for teachers as well. They didn't make the latter wear uniforms as the former did, but they might as well have. Ties and jackets were mandatory for the male instructors and modest dresses were greatly encouraged for women. Skirts were tolerated if of respectable length, while slacks were frowned upon. Jeans, of any kind, were strictly forbidden. Being new and wanting to make the best impression possible, Kathryn had showed up each day in a dress that would've made the sisters at her parochial grade school proud.
As she cleared the small table that had been used for refreshments, Kathryn again noticed the small stain on the hem of her dress, the result of one of the fathers accidentally spilling his cup of coffee on her. In truth, it hadn't been so much an accident as a reaction to her substantial bosom when, in turning away from the table too quickly, he had found himself with a close up view of it. One that startled him so much that he lost control of the cup in his hand. Conservative as her dress might have been, nothing short of wearing heavy bindings beneath it was going to hide her 38C bust. Thankfully, the dress had taken the brunt of the damage, and as she once more examined the small discoloration, she wondered if the school might foot the bill to have it cleaned.
"Probably not," she told herself as she tossed the last of the refuse into the waste pail.
With the school scheduled to be closed for the next two weeks, Kathryn thought it a good idea to empty the pail into the larger trash receptacle outside the registrar's office. The cleaning staff had already made their rounds, at least of the classrooms, and she doubted they'd be back a second time. The small pile of stained cups, paper plates and leftover pastries might not have amounted to much, but the redhead didn't want to find out what they might smell like if left until after the break.
After taking a last look around the room to be sure she hadn't missed anything, Kathryn paused and used the mirror by the door to check her appearance. The head proctor was a stickler about appearance and had the mirror installed so that students could check their uniforms before leaving the classroom. Few actually did, but it was helpful for teachers, who were more likely to draw the ex-military officer's disapproval anyway.
A quick glance confirmed that all was well, even though there was probably no one still in the school to care. The more experienced teachers knew how to keep things moving during these events and had doubtless left at the scheduled time, if not before. Reaching up to the barrette that held her shoulder length hair in a more acceptable styling, Kathryn was about to remove it but found herself hesitating. Normally, she didn't do so until she was off school grounds, so it somehow felt wrong to do so now.
"I guess I really have settled in here," she said to her reflection before removing her hand.
Stepping away from the mirror and reopening the door, pausing only long enough to pick up the trash pail liner and her overcoat, Kathryn considered how much the woman in the mirror had indeed changed in only a few months. Her friends from her weekend clubbing days would barely recognize her and, in a transient thought, she considered that if she ever wore one of the outfits from those forays to class, well, it would be more than coffee that her sex-on-the-brain students would be spilling on the floor, or at least in their pants.
'Well, at least you still have a dirty mind,' Kathryn thought with a smile as she headed down the empty corridor.
-=-=-=-
Lifting the lid of the large trash container, Kathryn was about to toss the small plastic bag inside it when a voice from behind the counter of the registrar's office suddenly startled her. So much so that she dropped the bag on the polished floor instead. Thankfully, it didn't break.
"Kathryn, what are you still doing here?" the strong yet feminine voice had asked.
Turning in the direction of the voice, the redhead saw an older woman wearing a light gray business jacket over a ruffled white blouse. As she came around the divider, a matching skirt came into view, one that extended well below her knees.
"Natalie, you startled me," Kathryn said, catching her breath.
Natalie West had been a teacher at Fisher Prep for twenty-seven of her fifty-nine years. A gray tinged brunette who wore her short hair in a tight bun, she was a few inches taller than Kathryn's five six as well as about ten pounds heavier. One thing they shared in common, however, was impressive busts. A mathematics instructor, Natalie had been one of the first staff members to befriend the new teacher and was always offering advice on how to navigate the sometimes byzantine rules and regulations.
Picking up the bag from the floor and dropping it into the container, Kathryn explained that her interviews had run late, ending only a quarter hour before.
"Ah," Natalie replied with an understanding smile, adding that that was something she'd be better able to control once she had a bit more experience.
"That's assuming that I'm here long enough to gain that experience," Kathryn said as she replaced the lid. "I might not even make it past probation."
"Oh, don't think that, you're doing a fine job," Natalie countered.
"I'm glad you think so," Kathryn smiled. "I hope the board feels the same way when they do my quarterly evaluation."
"Well, I'm not really supposed to tell you this," Natalie said after a moment's hesitation, "but it's already been done."
"How do you..." Kathryn started to ask, then paused as she realized the answer.
Even though she had turned down several offers to sit on the board, Natalie had been at the school long enough that there were few things she wasn't privy to. If she wanted to take a look at someone's personnel file for example, there were few people in the office that were going to tell her no.
"And...?" the younger woman cautiously asked.
