Yearning For A Home

Children's quarrels flare up quickly—and fade just as fast.

The two girls who had been fighting ran off laughing and shoving each other, with the other child's father following behind.

Only Samantha remained, standing where she was, quietly watching me.

Her gaze wasn't intense, but it wasn't calm either.

"How have you been all these years?" she asked.

I treated her the same way I did every other parent and gave a polite nod.

"Teaching is demanding, but the students are fairly well-behaved."

"Lisa's mom," I continued, "you should talk with Lisa more at home. She admitted her mistake this time, but if she hits someone again, the other parents won't let it go so easily."

Her throat moved as she swallowed, then she suddenly changed the subject.

"I mean… these past years, have you ever—"

"Mom!"

Instinctively, I stepped back. Lisa's voice came from the far end of the hallway.

"Come on! Let's go home! Dad will be unhappy if we're late!"

The hand Samantha had raised stopped in midair. My smile didn't change.

"Be careful on the way home, Lisa's mom."

By the time I turned back to my desk, she was already gone.

The math teacher, Thomas Coran, came in from outside and asked casually, "Lisa got into another fight?"

My pen paused over the stack of homework. "Another?"

"Oh, right—I forgot you just transferred here. Lisa is the troublemaker in Class Three," he said.

"She gets into trouble almost every week and has to call her parents in. But her attitude is great—she cries and admits her mistakes every time, even hits herself to show remorse. Then next time, she does it all over again.

"I really don't know how her parents raised her."

I frowned and pulled out Lisa's file.

Mother: Samantha Blakely

Father: Zane Schindler

"You know Paranoma Tech in the city center? That's her mom's company," Thomas said. "Her dad runs an art gallery. Both are highly educated—one's an entrepreneur, the other an artist. All the buffs stacked up, and they still ended up with a little troublemaking demon."

He clicked his tongue helplessly and handed me another form.

"Oh, right—the director said you have yet to fill in your family details. He wants you to complete it."

I answered softly, "I grew up in an orphanage. I don't have any other family."

"Ah—sorry, sorry. I'll take this back to the director in a bit."

Standing across from me, he sorted through other papers. Maybe out of guilt, he glanced at me several times before finally working up the courage to say, "Adam, it's okay. Once you start dating and get married, you'll have a family too."

Then he showed me photos of his friends, saying he could introduce me to someone if I liked.

I shook my head and thanked him for his kindness.

"Many years ago, I was in a relationship. I almost had a family back then."

"And then?" he asked.

"Then…"

'Then she built a family with someone else, and I became alone again,' I thought silently.

He frowned, eyes full of disdain.

"You ran into a trash woman, didn't you? Where'd you meet her—by a garbage bin or a septic tank?"

His words made me laugh. My gaze drifted back to the line on the form that read: Mother: Samantha Blakely