Free Winter Chill by Joanne Fluke Page B

the middle of second period. Harvey Woodruff stuck his head in, waved, and backed out again. Dan shrugged, and the class laughed.
    It happened again ten minutes before the bell. This time it was Tom Woolery from across the hall. A smile, a wave, and he was gone.
    “Tomorrow we’d better discuss the open door policy,” Dan quipped. The class seemed to find his humor uproarious, but he still managed to quiet them down in time to give an assignment before the bell.
    Third period was even worse. Lois Scott, Dave Bartleman, and Mary Baltar peeked in. Dan knew everyone wanted to say hello, but couldn’t they wait until lunchtime? It was difficult to teach with these constant interruptions.
    He had just dismissed his third-period class when he figured it out. They were checking up on him!
    “Leave the door open, Hank,” Dan called out loudly. “It seems my fellow faculty members are all checking up on me today. Maybe they think I’m showing dirty movies in here.”
    The class enjoyed his joke, but he had to fight to keep his mind on his lecture. Dan did a slow burn all through fourth period. Four teachers passed his room, waving cheerily. What did they expect? Did they think he was going to fall out of his wheelchair and break his nose?
    At last it was lunchtime, and Dan stayed in his classroom as the students filed out. He’d really prefer to take his lunch in here, away from the stares of the other teachers, but Harvey had vetoed that idea. He said it was important to get right into the swing of things.
    Dan propped his elbows on the desk and closed his eyes. He was tired, and he didn’t feel like socializing. Marian would be waiting for him, and she’d want to hear all about his morning. He wished there were a broom closet he could hide in.
     
     
    Marian poured herself a cup of coffee from the giant urn on the counter and carried it to the table. She was much too nervous to eat. Voices buzzed all around her, but she took no part in the conversation. Any moment now, Dan would be here. Harvey Woodruff had promised to bring him to the lunchroom personally.
    There was an excited buzz, and the door to the teachers’ lunchroom opened.
    “He’s back!” Harvey pushed Dan’s wheelchair through the door. “Somebody get a tray for Dan, and it’ll be like old times.”
    He wheeled Dan to an empty table and held up his hand. “And let the man eat before you bombard him with questions. I don’t want any complaints about short lunch hours.”
    Marian took her place beside Dan. He looked tired. His face was white and drawn, but he seemed to be in good spirits.
    “How was it, honey?” she asked softly.
    “Pretty good.” Dan gave a little grin. “Actually, my bonehead history class was better than they’ve ever been before. They must have felt sorry for me. Maybe being a cripple has some advantages.”
    “Oh, Dan . . . don’t talk like that. You’re not a cripple. This is just temporary. Remember what Dr. Hinkley said.”
    “Sure.” Dan looked up to smile at Dorothy Pepin as she brought a tray. “Mmmm . . . steam-table macaroni and canned peas. My favorites! And yellow pudding for dessert. Just look at what I’ve been missing.”
    “They really could make a more appetizing meal.” Dorothy peered down at the tray over her silver-rimmed glasses. “Even my seventh-grade girls can do better than this. I’ll send you up some cookies later, Dan. My seniors are doing a unit on nutritional snacks.”
    “Granola and sorghum,” Dan muttered as Dorothy went back to her table. “Or safflower and wheat germ. I know Dorothy’s nutritional snacks. They’re practically inedible.”
    “It was sweet of her to offer.” Marian grinned a little. “She probably thinks they’re wonderful, Dan. See how thin she is? That’s because she cooks nutritious foods.”
    “Oh, for a TV dinner!” Dan groaned. “Compared to Dorothy’s recipes, even this stuff looks good. I guess I’d better see how much macaroni I can get down