Classroom Affair

The weekend passed quickly and before she knew it, Sunday morning dawned and Shannon began her weekly ritual of getting prepared. She hadn't managed to push the experience with Mr. Thompson from her mind, until as she pulled into the church parking lot.

Shannon found a calm returned from the old, creaking steps that greeted her white heels. She remembered being four and trying her best to keep up with her brother, as he bounded up the church steps, her tiny legs could only take one at a time.

The five members of the worship team began practice already and Shannon quickly rushed to her place on the far left where the microphone, pre-set to her voice, waited.

The team members smiled to her and continued with practice, leaving Shannon to slip into her most natural state. Whereas singing in front of a crowded gym terrified her, worshipping God with her church family, made her feel more complete than anything in the world.

As they finished warming up, the morning visitors already began to settle in their seats, anxiously waiting for the service to start.

Pastor Rick stepped up to the podium, his tall, painfully thin frame commanding their attention. "Good morning worshipers! Who thinks God is good?"

There was a cheering from the crowd, as he shook his head. "I'm sorry, I asked who thought God was good?"

The cheering was louder. Shannon smiled at the old man's attempt to get his church excited. To be fair, Rick wasn't that old, but the accident to his back five years ago, made him only able to move at a shuffle, so he always arrived at a grandpa's speed.

When Pastor Rick managed to get a volume he was satisfied with, he raised his arms and yelled. "Because God IS good and we are here to worship Him!"

That was the cue to start and John Kramer began a fierce beat on the drum set, setting the tone for the rest of the team. The guitar and bass joined in and then the singers. Shannon tapped her hand to her side, enjoying the opening beat to "Blessed Be Your Name", as she waited for the start of the vocals.

When she raised the mic to her lips, her true voice came out and blended with the two other singers. This was where she belonged, a place where she was loved and comforted and where she was free to do exactly what she wanted.

Shannon's green eyes scanned the room, where the congregation regarded her with parental approval. These were the faces who had watched her from the time she was born, to the young woman she was now. They were there when she had the worst case of poison oak on her fourteenth birthday and when she had spent the summer in Mexico on a mission to build houses.

She saw her parents, sitting in the third row, in their Sunday best and a few of the older deacons behind them. Continuing her scan of her church family, Shannon noticed the door open and the man who had been dancing around in her mind all weekend, stepped through in a polo shirt with black slacks.

He glanced up to her and waved softly as Shannon smiled. She wasn't sure why, but seeing him there, in her world of perfection, made her feel as if she'd been empty the entire time she was away from him.

That warm, dizzying feeling continued, until Mr. Thompson turned around and held out an arm to help someone up the final stair. When he pulled his hand back, a beautiful woman with black hair and chocolate eyes stepped through and linked her arm with his.

As the song continued, Shannon found herself growing numb, as the flash of the tiny diamond on the woman's left ring finger glared at her.

The air felt as if it had been drawn out of the room. She lost her part in the song and stared at its gleam, until her partner nudged her, reminding her that they were in the middle of a performance.

The emotionally confused girl shook her head and continued with the melody, the whole time trying not to focus on the woman, beside the man she'd been dreaming about all weekend.

"Wasn't that amazing? God is truly good." Pastor Rick declared, as he took his place back at the podium.

Shannon gratefully accepted the dismissal and numbly walked to her place beside her parents, as her mother set a hand on her knee. "That was beautiful, baby girl."

Shannon managed a small smile and tried to pay attention to the sermon. Inside her mind was buzzing of questions; who was this woman? Where did she come from? Why didn't he say he had a wife?!

Shannon tried to run through her memories and found that she had never noticed any kind of wedding ring. Maybe she wasn't his wife? Maybe she was his sister or a friend? This small hope gave her a tiny amount of peace and she nodded her head. Yes, it must be someone else.

In all of her time memorizing his beautiful, artistic hands, she was positive she'd never seen a wedding band, making him even more off limits than he already was to her.

As the sermon passed, Shannon tried to make herself pay attention to Pastor Rick, when he told a story about a poor man who was injured along the side of the road. Shannon loved this story, ever since she was a child, she loved it.

But this Sunday, she couldn't focus on anything, but the large window which over-looked the sea and also provided a reflection of the crowd behind her. As hard as she tried, Shannon's stubborn, eyes kept returning to the couple, who sat quietly in the back, but who oddly enough, didn't seem all that romantic to her.

Shannon glanced to her parents sitting beside her. Her mother's elegant hand grasped in her father's powerful fingers, looked like it was a fitted piece in their puzzle. She didn't miss the way Kathy would giggle quietly when Michael whispered a joke in her ear or the way her father stole quick glances of his wife.

Mr. Thompson wasn't doing any of those things with this woman. Surely, he wasn't married, the word made her stomach hurt and it wasn't until Pastor Rick concluded with, "Blessed be your days," that she even realized the sermon had ended.

With the shuffling of the congregation leaving, Shannon inhaled in an attempt to gather her thoughts before she heard her mother say. "Well look at that, Mr. Thompson decided to come after all. Let's go say 'hello'."

She placed a hand on her daughter's shoulder, leading her to the last place she wanted to be.

Feeling as if her steps were in deep mud, Shannon prayed that her theories were correct, that this was some kind of horrible mistake and that the woman with the chocolate hair wouldn't be the wife of the man she was infatuated with.

"Good morning Mr. Thompson! Thank you for coming." Michael said as he extended his hand.

Shannon took a moment to glance at the hands she had already memorized and confirmed there was no trace of a wedding ring or even a tan line suggesting it's presence. She had to be right in her assumption.

But the world was cruel and this was made clear, when he gestured to the woman beside him. "Thank you for inviting me. I would like you all to meet Julie, my wife."

Almost as if she had been punched through the chest, Shannon scanned the woman in a new light. She was pretty, but in a cold way; one you'd suspect a model to possess, with hair like velvet and eyes of stormy hazel.

Julie extended a hand to her parents. "Charmed."

Mr. Thompson turned to the horrified girl and announced. "And this is Miss O'Ryan, my student."

Julie held out her hand and smiled coolly. "Ah yes, Chris has told me about you. I heard you had a lovely singing voice and hearing you up there confirmed it."

"Th...thank you." Shannon managed, as she took the woman's hand, feeling a horrible blush rising in her cheeks.

Her eyes turned to Mr. Thompson, who watched his pupil carefully. Surely, he had to know what she was feeling? But what exactly was it? Anger? Surprise?

But as Julie's hand wrapped around his and her inquisitive eyes scanned his face, Shannon realized that the gnawing in her insides was the terrible swell of guilt.

They stayed for the potluck, Shannon's father taking it upon himself to introduce Mr. Thompson to everyone and Shannon found herself staring out the large windows. The ocean's constant pull called to her and she took a moment to glance around, before slipping quietly out the doors.

Shannon removed her white heels and held them in one hand, when she walked to the shore line. The horrible turning in her stomach only happened when she told a lie to someone and right then, she felt as if she had lied to that woman upstairs.

"Shannon?"

He couldn't have left her alone for five minutes?

"Shannon, we need to talk." His voice found her, but she couldn't bring herself to look at him.

Mr. Thompson stood tall behind her. She refused to turn around. "You followed me?"

Overhead, a seagull called loudly to the seals in the waves. Shannon bit her lip. "Why don't you have a wedding ring?"

Mr. Thompson stepped in front of her. "I do, I just don't wear it on my finger. The band gives me an allergic reaction, so I wear it around my neck instead."

Glancing up, Shannon noticed the chain around his neck, where a golden ring shined against the sunlight. She mustn't have noticed the necklace because of the ties he always wore. Now it made sense.

"She's beautiful." Shannon whispered, feeling more terrible than she imagined.

Mr. Thompson nodded. "Yes, she is. But so are you."

Suddenly, Shannon twisted around, her feet nearly catching in the loose sand. "You can't be saying things like that! You're married! And I was not only alone with you, I actually..." She cut herself off, not wanting to mention all the times she had fantasized about the man before her or remembered his touch on her skin, the look in his eyes and the almost kiss they'd experienced the night of the concert.

"So, the fact that I'm married automatically means I can't notice when another woman is beautiful? I'm sorry, I wasn't aware that marriage meant I went blind." Mr. Thompson's voice was laced with sarcasm.

Her gaze narrowed. "It does when the other person didn't know you were married."

He looked up and away from her, icy blue eyes matching the bright sky. "Look, I wanted to talk to about the other night any way. But you have to go, so we need to figure out a time. How about later on tonight, right here? Can you think of a reason to get away?"

"I have work tonight, but will be off at nine. I can come after that."

It was odd to have any kind of business on a Sunday, so she knew she wouldn't be late because of work.

Mr. Thompson nodded. "I can make that work. So tonight, nine o'clock, right here and we will settle things."

Shannon nodded and stormed away, wanting nothing more than to leave that man's sight and the feeling of guilt burrowing into her gut.