Miss Ford

"My teacher is the most beautiful teacher in the whole world." Trissa made this declaration a week after school had started. I had heard that they'd hired a new second grade teacher, but I hadn't had the chance to make her acquaintance yet. My husband teaches sixth grade at St. John's where Trissa attends second grade. For several years, Bill has driven our neighbor's daughter to and from school so that her mother could work in the city. This year Trissa spends an hour with us each day after school. I enjoyed Trissa's chatter as much as she enjoyed my cookies and milk.
Trissa was full of gossip about the elementary school. The new music teacher had introduced some gospel music which had Sister Angelica riled up. One naughty boy had peed in the teacher's water fountain. And, of course, Trissa had endless praise for the most beautiful teacher in the world, Miss Ford.
Miss Ford has thick black hair she let the children brush for hours and hours every recess. Miss Ford told the best stories and played the most exciting games. Miss Ford had warm brown skin the color of toffee candy. The way that Trissa described it I wondered if she handn't been tempted to taste her teacher. A sweet blush told the answer.
I questioned Bill about this divine being and he had barely spoken to her. "She seems nice enough. She has excellent control of her classroom." and that was all Bill had to say about Trissa's goddess. The less Bill said the more intrigued I became. I began to press Trissa for details which she was delighted to supply. Miss Ford has deep brown eyes like Barney. (Barney is Trissa's basset hound.) Miss Ford packed her own lunch and it always smelled delicious. One day she had shared her chocolate cake with Trissa and Trissa had never tasted better cake.
What did Miss Ford wear? Miss Ford wore lovely, flowing gowns in floral prints. Trissa wasn't sure but she thought Miss Ford sewed them herself. Miss Ford had beautiful handwriting. I saw it on all of Trissa's papers. There was always a sweet note and a doodle at the top. The coup de grace was Trissa's field trip. Trissa's class was making the annual pilgrimage to Ye Olde Tyme Village to study the pioneers. Because Trissa's mother worked and couldn't drive, Trissa was given the exalted priviledge of riding with Miss Ford. No preparation for this miraculous event was overlooked. My offered cake was turned down in favor of extra Oreos. Trissa though of Oreos as the food of the gods and only Oreos were fit to share with her divine teacher. The right outfit, a floral print, was carefully laid out. Trissa barely slept for days before the trip. Bill's class was going as well, so I asked if any of his students were similarly excited.
"No," he'd said. "They've all been the the Village before and they're busy feigning boredom. Sixth graders aren't given to hero worship though a few of the boys are sweet on Miss Ford." Here Bill smiled a funny little grin that set my radar off.
"Do you need extra chaperones, sweetheart?" I asked.
Bill raised his eyebrow. Sixth graders give me hives. After a disasterous, class camping trip early in our marriage we'd agreed I needn't pretend to love his students. Bill happily shuttled between his two worlds and before this year I'd had no interest in school. Trissa's little infatuation had changed all that. Bill's co-workers had all been married or nuns previously. I'd never worried about any of those sensible, unpretentious ladies, but Miss Ford, the divine, had me worried.
I packed Bill's lunch for the field trip extra carefully, including a generous slice of my triple decker, chocolate and raspberry cake. The slice was big enough to be a generous treat, but not big enough to share. I made a perfect tuna fish sandwich wrapped in wax paper just the way his mother had done for all his school lunches. I included a thermos of coffee and a frozen juice box to keep everything fresh. It was quite the feast, and I lingered over our goodbye kiss in ways I'd neglected recently.
Bill kissed my forehead gently. "I'll be back at 3:30 on the dot, dear."
"I'll be waiting." I said.
Truer words I'd never spoken. The morning crawled toward lunch and the inevitable comparison of lunches. Of course mine would triumph, I had five years of fixing Bill's favorites. I knew what he liked. Still Trissa had praised that woman's cake to the high heavens. Maybe Bill was tired of his mother's tuna fish. My anxieties grew all afternoon until it seemed that 3:30 would never come--until it came, and went. No Bill, no Trissa, no reassuring tales of Miss Ford's disaserous first field trip. It was just me and way more of that chocolate raspberry cake than I care to admit until Trissa's mother came by at 4:30 and we both began to worry.
We piled into her Chevy and drove over to school where we were both greeted by an ecstatic Trissa who'd had a lovely day. Bill's car had broken down, so she'd been waiting on the playground for him to return or for her mother to come.
I hugged Trissa and thanked her mother for the ride. I'll stay and wait for Bill." I said.
Trissa's mother gave me a knowing smile. She'd heard more about Miss Ford than she cared for too.
It'd been a few years since I'd visited St. John's. The playground seemed in good repair, but I didn't feel like sitting on the teacher's bench. I wandered into school and over to Bill's classroom. Like everything of Bill's his classroom was tidy and efficient. There was some clutter that was obviously field trip related. I sat for a while until my curiosity was uncontrollable, and I walked down the hall to Miss Ford's second grade classroom. A woman's touch was everywhere in the room. Sunny yellow curtains billowed in a gentle breeze that ruffled the little pots of marigolds the children were growing. Spring themed bulletin boards abounded. The children's desks were in cozy clusters and Miss Ford's desk was as neat as a pin. She was remarkably professional for a first year teacher.
I decided to head down to the office in hopes of some news about Bill and his car. As I headed toward the office, I bumped into a new secretary. She was very professional in her appearance, well, for the most part. I found the Hawaiin print mumu a bit much, but her hair was pulled back in a neat bun, and she had a warm smile.
"You must be one of Mr. Walker's parents. I have been trying to locate his class list so that I could call the parents for the last half-hour. I have never felt so completely inept. I didn't even write down which students were riding in his car. I have a student of my own waiting on him for her ride home. I'm just going down to check on her now. Come along with me and I'll fill you in on all the details. I'm Evelyn, by the way, Eveyln Ford. I transferred over to fill the second grade vacancy. St. Ambrose was a little sparse this year."
It was a good thing Evelyn like to talk because I couldn't seem to find my voice at this shocking moment of revelation. Trissa's goddess was a short, squat, middle-aged woman in sensible shoes. My rival offered me a ride home which I gratefully accepted.
We found Bill at home bewildered by my absence. I invited Evelyn to stay for dinner, but she had other things to attend to.
Bill kissed my forehead. "Feel better?"
"You could have told me." I said.
"Told you what, that Evelyn is a lovely woman and an excellent teacher. I thought I did." he teased.
"Oh, shut up, and kiss me."