A look of disappointment crossed Tracy’s unlined face, causing her bright coral lips to turn down. No doubt she and the other secretaries had been hoping to catch snatches of the principal’s interview with the infamous Caroline Shipley. Caroline had heard their whispers as she sat waiting for her interview. Really? She thinks she’ll get a job here? Wolford’s out of his mind if he hires her. What would the parents think?
“Sorry to have kept you waiting.” Barry Wolford lowered his ample frame into the curved-back wooden swivel chair behind his cluttered desk. He cleared his throat and smiled. The smile was halfhearted at best, stopping well short of his eyes. Caroline immediately understood that this interview would go the same way as the ones she’d already endured at other high schools in the area over the last four months, which was not well at all.
She wasn’t sure how many more such interviews she could subject herself to. It had taken all her courage and what was left of her self-esteem to put herself out there by re-entering the workforce. She knew there’d be opposition to hiring her, that the San Diego Unified School District Board would frown on her application, that there would be parental opposition to any school brave enough to take her on. But what choice did she have? She was going crazy sitting at home, wallowing in self-pity, waiting for the phone to ring with news of Samantha, news that never came. “So, I see you used to teach math…”
“At Herbert Hoover High School, yes. For four years. I’ve always loved math. My father was a math teacher…”
“I assume you’ve already spoken to someone at Hoover?” he interrupted.
“I did, actually, yes. There were no positions.”
“I’m not surprised, considering.”
“Considering?”
“You’ve been out of the workforce for a while now.”
“Yes. Yes, I have. But I’ve kept up my skills…”
“That’s admirable. But unfortunately for someone like you, we seem to be enjoying a glut of teachers at the moment.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“Eager new hopefuls graduating every day. Hard to get back into the job market when you’re competing against all these fresh young faces.”
“On the other hand, there’s something to be said for experience.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” he said, and Caroline felt a surge of hope. “Mind my asking why you stopped teaching?”
Caroline swallowed. “Uh…the usual reasons, I guess. Family, children…”
“Yes, they can certainly slow one down.”
“Well…that’s not really what I meant.”
“You’re saying you quit to be a stay-at-home mother,” Wolford said, rephrasing. He lifted his pen as if to jot this down, then lowered it without writing anything. “Nothing more rewarding than being a parent.”
Caroline nodded.
“I have four children of my own.” He turned several framed photographs on his desk in her direction.
“They’re lovely,” Caroline said, glancing at the smiling faces of his family.
“Not always easy, of course. But whoever said that being a parent was supposed to be easy?”
Caroline tried to smile, but managed only a twitch. She tried to tell herself that Barry Wolford was only making conversation, that his comments were innocent. Was it possible he had no idea who she was? Her picture had been all over the newspapers and television for more than a year. Last week had marked the first anniversary of Samantha’s disappearance, and it seemed as if every paper in the country had made note of that fact. She’d even made the cover of People, standing blank-eyed and erect under the lurid headline WHATEVER HAPPENED TO BABY SAMANTHA? Her name was practically a household word, a synonym for bad parenting. Could it be that he really didn’t recognize her?
“How many children do you have, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“My daughter is six years old,” Caroline said, straining to keep her voice steady.
“Sorry. I thought you said ‘children,’ plural,” he prodded.
“Yes. Uh…is this relevant?”
“Only if you consider children relevant, I guess. Some people do. Some don’t.”
Caroline felt her stomach constrict. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“What’s the expression—out of sight, out of mind?”
“What exactly are you getting at, Mr. Wolford?”
“Just trying to figure out what motivates someone like you.”
“Someone like me?”
“A woman who leaves two young children alone in a Mexican hotel room so she can go out partying with her friends…”
So he did know who she was, had known all along. He’d been toying with her, having cruel fun at her expense.
“Assuming, of course, that’s the least of what she did.”
Caroline jumped to her feet, although outrage kept her rooted to the spot.
“There are no jobs available to you here at Washington High,” Barry Wolford said, standing up and looming menacingly over his desk. “Nor will there ever be, as long as I’m principal here.”
“Why are you doing this? Why even bother setting up an interview?”
“Just wanted to meet the infamous Caroline Shipley, see if she’d actually have the gall to show up. Although I don’t know why I’m surprised. Clearly you have no shame.”
You’re wrong, Caroline thought. I have nothing but shame.