Yuletide Proposal. Lois Richer
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been thinking a lot about what you said, Zac,” she began.
“I shouldn’t have asked you.” For a brief moment his eyes grew clouded. But then he blinked, and the impassive expression was back in place. “I understand why you have to say no, Brianna. People would talk if we worked together and the gossip—” He rolled his eyes. “Let’s just say I don’t want to go through that again.”
“I’m not concerned about gossip.” She frowned.
“Then it’s working together that bothers you.” Zac rubbed his chin. “I thought—hoped that after so many years we’d be past that and able to concentrate on what’s best for the kids, but—”
“It’s not the past, either,” Brianna sputtered, frustrated that he kept butting in.
“Then it’s me. I understand your hesitation.” He leaned forward, face earnest. “Forget about it. I’ll manage.”
“But—”
“No, if you have hesitations, you should say no.” He sat there, silent, as if he didn’t know how to proceed.
“Actually I was going to say yes,” she said in her driest tone. “But I think you just talked me out of it. I mean, if you no longer need me—”
Zac’s eyes widened. His Adam’s apple moved up and down as he gulped. He blinked. “Pardon?”
“I said I would help you. If you want me to.” His attitude confused her and she hated feeling confused. “Are you regretting asking for my help, Zac?”
“Uh, no. Not exactly.” His carefully blank expression irritated her.
“I know you think I let you down—before.” She met his stare. “I won’t do that again. I promise.”
“This isn’t about the past,” he murmured.
“Maybe not, but our past certainly weighs into it.” She needed to get the guilt out in the open, to deal with it and maybe, finally, be free of it. “You can’t deny we have a history.”
“I’m not denying anything.” His head went up and back, his shoulders straightened. “We made plans.” He shrugged. “They didn’t happen.”
“No. They didn’t.” Because he and her mother had spoiled that. Suddenly it seemed pointless to discuss the past. “So?” Brianna poured herself another cup of tea just to keep her hands busy. “Where do we start?”
“With Homecoming?” He pulled forward a blank pad and wrote the word across the top in his scratching script. “It would give us the most bang for our buck if we announced a new plan at the Friday-morning assembly. Some parents will probably show up for that so this way they’d learn about our plan at the same time as the kids.”
“Whatever our plan is,” she added in a droll voice.
“Yeah. Maybe we could put a float in the Homecoming parade.” He doodled on the pad.
“A float? We only have a week to organize it. And why a float? What’s the purpose?” Brianna didn’t mention that her brain had been whirling with ideas ever since he’d asked her to help, because it was also whirling with confusion at how he’d pushed everything they’d shared into the past. Was it so easy for Zac to forget that he’d once said he loved her?
“Forget about the time left.” He leaned back in his chair. “Forget about everything but that some kids need your help. Now, I know you’ve been thinking about this because you couldn’t help yourself. You’re compelled to get in there and nurture these kids to do better.” He grinned. “So how shall we start?”
They brainstormed ideas. It was slow going at first, but gradually Brianna relaxed enough to let her thoughts roam freely. Finally the idea that had been hidden at the back of her brain burst out.
“Your world.” She stared at the scribbles he’d made on the paper, then lifted her head to stare at him. “It’s called ‘Your World.’”
“Okay.” He wrote that down then waited. “Meaning?”
“How do you want your world to look?” She smiled as his face tightened. “That’s straight from your lips, Zac. Get kids thinking by giving them a glimpse of what could be, beyond Hope, beyond what is now.”
“Good.” He tapped his pen. “How do we start?”
“First we need board approval. And a budget. You’ll have to get the teachers on board with this, too,” she warned.
“I can do that.”
She was surprised by how easily Zac accepted her ideas, but she didn’t stop to think about it because thoughts kept mushrooming in her head. “Remember Billy Atkins?”
“Billy. Sure, I remember.” Zac nodded. “He runs the local newspaper.”
“And he’s still a phenomenal artist judging by the mural on the side of his building. I think you should have the entry wall, the one you see the moment you enter the school, painted a startling white.” She grinned. “And then ask Billy to paint a globe on it with the words Your World across the top. Dad could probably help if we needed him.”
“Okay.” Skepticism filled his face. “What do we do with this globe?”
“This is where you have to be flexible, Zac.” She paused, inhaled, then told him the gist of her idea. “Every kid gets a chance to write what he wants to see in his world on that wall.” She didn’t stop even though his face blanched. “If this is going to work, the students have to believe someone will listen to what they write, listen to what they want. You and the staff must accept their ideas, whether or not you agree with them. You have to be genuine. I will not be part of this if you or the board intend to veto the suggestions they make.”
“There are certain things we can’t allow,” he said stiffly.
“Of course.” She nodded. “So you say that to the kids. No vulgarity, no cursing, no inappropriate remarks about teachers. But don’t get hung up on the negatives. You want genuine responses that the students are willing to work to achieve.”
“And if we get the other?” he asked.
“You have that painted over and wait for a new suggestion.” Brianna paused to watch his face. “Be prepared, Zac. It might not go as well as you hope at first. But I think, if given a chance, students will have some remarkable ideas about the way they want their world to look. Some ideas may be quite easy to achieve. But nothing can be discounted just because you think it’s too difficult or too far out,” she warned. “Every idea deserves consideration.”
Zac wrote as fast as she talked, nodding from time to time. When he finally looked at her, a glimmer lit his eyes.
“It might work,” he said in a dazed tone. “It just might work.”
“It will work, but only if no one judges or criticizes. Your World is all about possibilities.”
“What do we do once everyone has contributed?” He laughed and shook his head. “I know what you’re going to say. Start working on them. Right?”
“Yes. We’ll need a committee of students who are willing to prioritize and a teacher or two who will agree to sit in on their meetings. Sit in on,” she repeated firmly. “Not run. This is an initiative by the students.”
“Maybe you can think about doing that,” he suggested.
Brianna shook her head. “I’m here only to help brainstorm ideas.”
“Any more of them?” Zac asked, one eyebrow arched.
“I’d forget about announcing anything at the rally.”
“But—” He stopped, looked at her and said, “Go on.”
“This might be hard to do in the short time left before Homecoming,