Page 10 of Knowing Amelia

“Fine!” Forcing my way in front of him, I open the double doors and walk inside just as a soft bell gongs throughout the building. A handful of students exit the two doors in my view and walk down an adjacent hall. I pause in the entry, watching them walk away, with no idea where I’m going.

Dad moves past me, and I shuffle after him when a boy at the drinking fountain cuts me off, stepping right in front of me. He’s a good foot taller than I am, and he looks me over as if it’s his job. “You must be new.” Heat fills my cheeks with the comment.

Wait. He thinks I’m in high school?

Crossing my arms over my chest, I attempt to cover the soft drink on my shirt. “I’m not new or a student. I am much older than you.”

“I’m guessing not.” He laughs, then sticks out his hand for me to shake. “I’m Roy. What’s your name?”

I stare at Roy’s outstretched hand, then push past him. “Excuse me, Roy.” Apparently, RHS doesn’t get many visitors. I ignore his stare burning into my backside and scurry after Dad.

He waits for me at the main office. A small, older, unnaturally blonde woman sits at one of the two desks in the small room. Little pug figurines, half a dozen picture frames, and a plate reading Rachel Lemonade decorate her area. She stares at her computer, her mouth turning down in a frown, despite the many laugh lines framing it.

The desk next to her is simple, with only a small stack of books, a mug with a Rendezvous High logo on the front filled with pencils, and a nameplate with Amelia’s name printed on it. Dad got lucky with his guess on Amelia’s job.

The woman doesn’t look up from her screen. “What can I do ya for?”

“I’m Jonathon⁠—”

Her head rises in a jerk. “Benson!” Standing, she holds her arms out as if Dad might fall into them. “Jonathon! Boy, you have made me the mixer in the kitchen.”

My eyes dart to Dad, then back to the woman. “The mixer?”

“The happiest of all the kitchen appliances.” She nods. “Earl called, said you’d be coming by. John, I am so happy to see you.” Her laugh lines crease.

John? No one calls him John. I look at him, but Dad only shakes his head.

She sighs. “I cannot say sorry enough for the loss of your momma.” Her gaze swivels to me. “And you’ve brought with you…?”

“My daughter, Olivia.” Dad sets a hand on my back, and I cross my arms, hiding the fountain drink covering my front.

“Hmm…” Her lips purse together; she hasn’t heard of me. “Pleased as apple pie to meet you. I’m Rachel—Rachel Lemonade, but then Jonathon knows that.”

Dad’s eyes widen just a smidgen. He didn’t know that.

“Your grandmother will be greatly missed.” She sniffles, taking a tissue from her pocket. “This was her desk.” Rachel’s voice cracks. “We’ve got an empty box here for you.” She points to a shoe box lying on the seat of Amelia’s chair. “We didn’t want to disturb anything though. Thought family should be doing that.”

Dad quickly goes to work while I stand by, the weight of Rachel Lemonade’s eyes on me. I clear my throat, trying to think of small talk I can make with the woman, when Dad covers the box with its lid—finished. “Thank you for your help, Ms. Lemonade.”

Her hands press together at her chest. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You’re coming to the funeral, then?” I ask.

Rachel hiccups and covers her mouth with her hand. “Of course I am. We all are. School’s been canceled for the day so we can all pay our respects.”

We leave Rachel and walk toward the exit. They canceled school?

“Do you think the whole school will really be there tomorrow?”

“I’d guess so. That’s only around thirty-five students and a few staff members. A town this size, everyone knows everyone, and no one has any secrets.”

I set my hand to the front door but pause in thought. “Do you think that’s true?”

“What?” He pushes past me.

“That no one here has secrets.”

Dad laughs, but I don’t. My mind flashes to Amelia on her knees crying for a person named Seth. A person I’d never heard of before. A person I’ve never heard of since.