Chapter 9: The Tale of the Tamrins

It's been a while since I have shared my baking activities with you. Due to the aches in my hands, using kitchen equipment was proving to be rough and once I stopped eating gluten to assist in the healing/coping of the tendinitis in my hands, I hung up my apron and walked out of the kitchen like a lone ranger headed west. I wasn't sure what my baking fate would be, but at last, I am back in the kitchen again.

My best friend Victoria gave to me a gluten-free baking book, so like the days of old, the oven is roaring and the goodies are lining up to be enjoyed!

A few weeks ago, I made a cranberry cake, then a chocolate nut tort, and last week I baked a pumpkin-pie cheesecake for a friend's birthday. Here as I sit talking into my computer (yay for talk to text programs!), I'm sipping rooibos tea and enjoying the personal cheesecake that I made just for me!

Personal Pumpkin Cheesecake with a side of red rooibos tea!

Alrighty you lot, now to what you came to read!

Chapter 9: From Dreams to Reality

The day before the festival was worse in the classroom than it was before any other holiday. The promise of caramelized apples, cider, games, and a day off from school sang to the children drowning out the lecture of Ms. Grace. In their minds she was condoning their dreaming of tomorrow’s goodness. In her mind, she was quietly condemning the founders who decreed a Wednesday to be appropriate for a festival. ‘Why a Wednesday? Why not a Friday?’ she wondered after the eleventh time of snapping to regain the attention of her students. ‘Today is shot and on Thursday everyone, including myself, will be hung-over from an exorbitant amount of fun, so the rest of the week is out as well.’  Experience had developed Ms. Grace’s curriculum for this week: Monday was heavily laden with lessons for the students and for the adults; Tuesday was mostly composed of picking up what might have been missed or that which was more difficult on Monday for the younger ones – the older students did not meet because most of them were helping their parents erect their stands anyway; Thursday, was a bit more fun because Ms. Grace designed the lessons around the themes and games of the festival, and Friday was mostly back to normal even though the merchant carts would remain up and running until Sunday. It was a lot of effort to compensate for the loss of one full day.

The younger children were the worst lot to manage in the sun filled schoolroom and Ms. Grace could not wait for the last five minutes of class to end. It seemed like an endless cycle of her getting after them to sit down, sit still, quiet down, wake up. It was a disaster, but she managed. In the last portion of today’s class the children were making decorations for the booths of their parents – she figured that this way they could continue to dream of the festival while simultaneously being creatively productive.

“Alright everyone, start cleaning up,” she announced while staring at her pocket watch that lie on the desk. Even she was counting down the seconds.

A small burst of excited shouts erupted from the children. Ms. Grace did not even bother with the attempt to curb their eagerness to leave. She removed herself from grading the essays of their parents – that chore could wait until Mr. Tamrin came later to help. Instead, Ms. Grace went to work helping to reorganize her class. The last thing she wanted to do on Thursday morning with her head pounding was to clean up after her students. The children worked quickly – she earlier promised them that as soon as the class was spotless they could leave for home.

No sooner had Ms. Grace announced that the class was looking good, the children leapt upon the opportunity and bolted for the door. Their screams of delight and laughter made them sound like some great parade barreling through town. The banners and streamers that they had created for their parents, made them look that way as well. To the man on the other side of the door attempting to enter, the colorful herd looked more like an oncoming stampede. The children unintentionally bumped into the reverend as they merrily dashed on their way.

“I hope they didn’t damage you terribly, Mr. Tamrin,” Ms. Grace nervously apologized. “Dodging my students is hardly a fun rush to endure.” The children flowing out from her classroom like a tidal wave was a force that had swept over her many times before. “Had I known you were out there I would have restrained the little ones.”

Mr. Tamrin waved his hand dismissively. “Nah, I’m fine. It’ll take more than my toes being stepped on to take me down.”

“Oh no, now I really feel bad,” Ms. Grace pointed at one of the desks in the middle of the school house. “Why don’t you sit down?” Feeling the need to sit herself, Ms. Grace took the initiative and sat in the chair beside his designated spot. The pair had not been granted the opportunity to talk since their intimate moment on Sunday night. They were both very glad to have this moment together and both felt equally as shy from the reverberating memory of the kiss (even though it was a simple kiss on the cheek).

Sitting did sound like an inviting prospect. The hours spent on his feet helping to prepare the community room in the church for tomorrow’s dinner ceremony, were more strenuous than he would have preferred.  

The pair of them made grunts of exhaustion simultaneously as they looked across to one another.

“Ha, it sounds like you’ve had a rough day too,” Mr. Tamrin said with a light laugh.

‘Rough’ was an understatement. Ms. Grace leaned heavily onto the desk’s small table and said, “Oh, goodness, yes! If I wasn’t getting after one student for bragging about his father’s pumpkin entry for tomorrow’s contest, I was getting after another for eating sweets he took from his mother's pantry. But it’s all a part of the normal pre-festival excitement. How about you? How’s your day been? By the way, it’s sort of discouraging to think that we’re both exhausted and it’s barely one-thirty.”

Mr. Tamrin instantly denied himself from making a comment about getting older. This was not the time to joke about matters that genuinely made him feel insecure. With a smile, he said, “I’ve been pushing around and building tables all day with a couple of other people. We’re getting the hall together for tomorrow’s evening ceremonies.” Mr. Tamrin paused to stretch his already aching arms. It had been a lot of work, but ten years ago he would not have regarded it as so exhausting. The preparations seemed to become harder and harder with every year. “You wouldn’t be willing to trade labors next year, would you?” he asked jokingly.

Although Ms. Grace loved her job, the prospect was interesting. “It might not be such a bad idea – you could put the fear of God into the children to behave while you teach and I would make an excellent supervisor to those poor fellows building tables at the church.” She laughed a little, but then added, “In all seriousness – I love those children. Their excitement, although a little frustrating at times, it fuels my own. There’s an energy about them, which, if not channeled right is draining, but I’ve been with this group long enough to know how to adapt and how to thrive with them.”

The way that she always spoke in such glowing regards of her students made Mr. Tamrin feel a twitch of jealously for the fulfillment of her profession. The envy had been there for some time, but he never before realized exactly what it was until now. It was something that he decided to confess; “I know that this is going to sound odd, but…I’m envious of your post here in Providence.”

“Of teaching? Staying up to all hours of the night planning and grading after spending the day on my feet attempting to teach while trying to referee families that hate each other on top of the regular attitudes and energy of children? Dealing with the problems of the teens like I’m their mother or older sister? It’s a lot of work.” The fact that she ended her complaints with a smile told entirely of her character – she loved it. This was the perfect profession for her high energy, her need for organization, and her desire to make those around her happy.

“I’m sure it is all that and more, but…” Mr. Tamrin thought a moment before elaborating upon his confession. “It’s the people that you serve that make the difference. How do I say this? Yes, your job is laborious, but you have the honor of working with the youth, the innocent joy of children, while I deal with correcting and abating the sins of their parents.” Ms. Grace had never really thought of the people of Providence to be capable of sinning. But she did not hear the grumbles of confession that came to the reverend. For one hour every Saturday evening, Mr. Tamrin made himself available for confessions, but on nearly every day in between someone came to him to share their troubled thoughts, their lies, their deceit. It was a demanding business to continually prescribe remedies of redemption, but helping people to rise from their ashes was a calling that Mr. Tamrin had heard all of his life. He too smiled. “Now, please don’t go thinking that everyone in Providence is two-parts possessed. It’s really not so bad, but it feels unbalanced at times. I love what I do and there is not a day that I regret my choice of profession, but there are times when I wish, and please keep this between us, but I wish that I could slam a ruler down when some of the ungrateful sods I lecture to fall asleep in church!”

This made Ms. Grace laugh. “Ah, now I see the true source of your envy.” Sighing, Ms. Grace changed tones and conveyed her empathy. “I understand what you mean by balance; I have both sides of the coin and it seems like you only have the tails. You need some type of peace to get you away from all of that, Mr. Tamrin.” For a second, she considered offering herself as his source of peace, but her mind caught her heart before it came off of her tongue. Instead, she quickly said, “Do you think that maybe you could become more involved with the children?” The next words that came out did not have the opportunity to be filtered from her heart through her head, “Perhaps having a few of your own?”

The words were like a bat knocking the wind from his lungs. Mr. Tamrin turned a bright shade of red. He shifted nervously in his seat while Ms. Grace attempted to sit still. She was tearing herself apart inside for asking so bold a question and embarrassing him like this.

“Well,” Mr. Tamrin did everything in his power to not look at Ms. Grace. The man even coughed to buy himself more time. “I’m afraid there’re a few, quite a few steps between now and that.”

The taste of her foot in her mouth had not dissipated, but since it was there anyway, Ms. Grace decided to grab her chance. Meekly and while looking at the tip of her boot, she guessed, “If I’m not mistaken, I’d say you’ve crossed a great many of those steps already.” Her dark, beautiful eyes rose up to his.

The pair shared the same expression of hope and wonder once more.

An uplifting swing of silence passed between them. The moment was being savored like a fine wine.

Eventually, Mr. Tamrin swallowed hard then quietly asked, “Have I, Ms. Grace?”

“Yes,” she answered quickly and equally as quietly. “But only if that is your intent, I mean…” Now she was smiling uncontrollably and the words were struggling out from her heart. “If it’s, if it’s me that you’d be interested in taking those steps with.”

The world felt as if gravity had gone. Mr. Tamrin could hardly believe this moment to truly be happening. An incredible high of emotions passed through him. It was nearly impossible for him to finally say, “Only if it’s equally desired on your part.”

Ms. Grace leaned close toward Mr. Tamrin and confessed, “I assure you that it is.”

Every gift, every blessing and every experienced good feeling was nothing compared to this moment. Though he had desired her attention and affection for years, Mr. Tamrin rarely believed he stood a chance, even with their building relationship over these past few weeks. Hearing this now, hearing her confirm that all of the little things between them had not been imagined, it still felt like a dream. To be sure that it was real, Mr. Tamrin extended his hand across the aisle to touch her face. He cradled her warm cheek in his hand and she leaned into his touch. She even pressed her hand to his to assert in her own mind that this was real.

Mr. Tamrin slid his fingers to her forehead to push the strands of hair that always seemed to escape from her tight bun back behind her ear. He quickly returned his hand to be held by hers. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“To fix my hair?” Ms. Grace laughed, knowing the odds of it to be low.

“No,” Mr. Tamrin interlaced his fingers with hers. “To touch your face. To tell you how much you mean to me.”

Feeling his hands interlaced with hers was so exhilarating for Ms. Grace. So long had she prayed for this day! Swallowing hard, Ms. Grace did everything she could to continue the conversation. “Well, you know, you haven’t done the latter yet,” Ms. Grace corrected, but her voice was failing her from the high of her happiness.

“I never thought I’d have a chance to so much as catch your eye, but, Ms. Grace,” he lovingly squeezed her hand. “Not a day has gone by since you returned from school in which I have not been completely and madly bewitched by you.”

‘Manners and propriety of Providence be damned!’ Ms. Grace leapt across the small aisle to wrap her arms around him. The feet of the desk screeched as it slid a few inches from the impact. The pair held tightly onto one another, cramped between the seat and the desk. Ms. Grace kissed his cheek and then his forehead before saying, “You’re the reason I came back.” She lovingly ran the tip of her nose to his. “You’re the reason I came home.”

Being this close, Mr. Tamrin could not help himself. He pressed his lips to hers. The vision that the pair of them had created of this moment under a thousand different circumstances could not have compared to the way it actually felt. 

The kiss did not last long, it did not have to. 

Mr. Tamrin had never felt so full of joy. Hearing her words, holding her so close – it gilded his nerve and affirmed his intention to ask for her hand once the moment was right. Everything would have to be perfect if he hoped to spend a lifetime with this earth bound angel. She deserved a proper ring and a well-thought out proposal. He was determined to do everything in his power to prove to her his love. 

The closeness they held allowed her to finally see the way that he looked at her. It made her almost cry. “Have you always looked at me like that?”

The inability of her sight to have seen the countless times that he fell lost to her angelic temper and beauty was not yet known to him. Instead, Mr. Tamrin simply assumed that she had not noticed, ‘Perhaps I’m more sly than I think.’ He nodded and said, “Probably.”

A moment more passed before Ms. Grace reluctantly suggested, “I suppose I should get off your lap before someone comes around and gets the wrong impression.” Mr. Tamrin did not know what to say – it felt like his head was filled with air. How she was able to think of people seeing them baffled him. To him, whenever they were together, it felt as if the whole town, the kingdom, the world disappeared. The issues of Providence's faults were nothing to him when he was with the woman who took the weight of the world from his shoulders. 

She slid from his desk and resettled in her own. The teacher sighed delightedly. “I know that this cannot yet happen, but we are something that I want this whole stupid town to talk about.”

Mr. Tamrin full-heartedly agreed. If only she knew how much it pained him that no one recognized that he was an eligible bachelor. Although, upon second thought, he figured that their lack of talking about him was probably equivalent to their overzealous talking about her. “But, you’re right. There’s so much going on this week and I’d rather people figure it out rather than us making any sort of announcement.”

“I agree,” she smiled. “I wish that there wasn’t so much to be done today.”

The reality that there was still a church to be completed and a hundred other chores to see through dropped like a weight on Mr. Tamrin. In his instant of forgetting, he had already resolved to spend the whole day with her, walking through town as if they were already an old married couple.

“Do you need any help over there at the church?” Ms. Grace asked, hoping to conjure any time together with him that she could. The essays that were piled on her desk could wait to be graded.

“I’m certainly not going to ask you to build tables, Ms. Grace,” Mr. Tamrin assured.

Standing (although she would have much preferred to have stayed with him hidden in the classroom all day), Ms. Grace said, “I can decorate and add my artistic effeminate touch to the place.”

Mr. Tamrin stood too and walked with her to the door. The pair stopped in the frame, unable to look away from each other or to take another step. Without a word, they knew that they would spend the rest of their lives loving one another. It was a beautiful feeling knowing that the lonely nights would soon be at an end.

The gentlemen extended his arm to her and she hooked her arm in his. 

There was work to be done.   

~*~*~ 

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