The Reluctant Bride. Kathryn Alexander

kind of jury are you?” Rob asked before laughing at the children's reaction to his sister.

      Micah edged away from the scene, hoping to slip out unnoticed. Rob organized the children into the arrangement he wanted, but not without glancing up curiously at Micah as she walked from the circle of activity.

      Micah rubbed her arms briskly as she fought the invading chill. Years had passed since she had been part of a courtroom setting. Time changes things, or so she had heard; but she was under the growing conviction that time did not change anything but pages on the calendar.

      There were colorful displays and some rather plain exhibits, but they all received adequate attention from curious children in no hurry to get back to the classroom.

      The martial arts expert drew the largest gathering of children. Oohs and aahs filled that portion of the gymnasium as the youngsters freely expressed how impressed they were with the performances. Micah watched for a few minutes, wondering how martial arts qualified for a Career Day exhibit. Not exactly a nine-to-five job, she considered. But then, neither was painting. She stopped at the small concession stand and bought a soda.

      The elderly lady who had come for her family-owned bakery was a major attraction, and it only took a taste of one of the woman's hundreds of thumbprint cookies filled with strawberry jam to understand her popularity. But Micah ate a second, just to confirm her theory.

      The afternoon slipped away, and soon the children were herded back to their classrooms by Angela, Micah and the other teachers for school dismissal. The bell soon rang and the children were “free.” At least that was the impression they gave as they burst from the confines of the long brick building and filled the sidewalks with skipping feet, endless chatter and an occasional word of profanity.

      “Children,” Micah said quietly to herself. So few of them were the sweet, innocent kids they deserved to be at their tender ages. Many knew far more of the world's harsh ways and heartaches than their teachers, who had grown up in gentler decades. Micah closed the classroom window with a thud.

      “Micah?” Angela stuck her head around the corner of the doorway, peering into the classroom. “Everyone is in a hurry to get out of here this afternoon. Are you ready?”

      “Almost.” Micah rearranged a few books and flipped off the light switch. “What's the rush?”

      “We all have to be back here at seven o'clock for a special meeting regarding funding cuts.” Angela's smile seemed a bit mischievous as she offered, “You're invited to attend.”

      “No, thanks. Not attending that kind of meeting is one of the fringe benefits of being a sub.” She exited the classroom and walked down the hallway with Angela. “The gym is a mess. Will it be straightened out in time for your meeting?”

      “Didn't I tell you? The meeting will be held in the cafeteria. They're leaving the displays in the gym until tomorrow afternoon. Career Day was such a success with the kids that the principal arranged for most of the volunteers to return tomorrow for a couple of hours.” They neared the front door.

      “Rob is one of the only ones who can't come back,” Angela explained, disappointment obvious in her tone. “He has a hearing first thing in the morning.”

      “That's too bad,” Micah said. “For the kids, I mean.”

      “Uh-huh,” Angela said in agreement. “I didn't know that you and Rob knew each other. He's never mentioned you.”

      “We met because of a car accident,” Micah told her. “He represents the injured driver, and I was supposedly a witness, but I didn't really see much.” Abruptly, Micah changed the subject “So Career Day was quite a hit with the kids.”

      “Too much so,” was Angela's sharp reply. “Remember, I told you that my son Nathan wanted to be a doctor?”

      “Wanted? Past tense?” Micah responded.

      “He's giving up medicine for a career in karate.”

      Micah laughed.

      “This had better be just a phase he's going through,” Angela said. “I'm going to have his father discuss potential gross income with him tonight.”

      Micah laughed heartily. “He's only ten years old, Angela. Give him time. How much could he understand about potential gross income anyway?”

      “He'll know plenty about it by bedtime this evening. His future wife, wherever the poor child may be, should be out there somewhere praying that I can talk some sense into him.” Angela pushed open the door.

      “See you tomorrow. Good luck with Nathan.”

      “Thanks,” Angela responded as she left Micah standing in the doorway.

      “You'll have to let your kids choose their own careers, Angela.”

      “Not when they're eight and ten, I don't,” She waved as she neared her car. “Well, the kids are waiting for me, and I have a lot of 'steering in the right direction’ to do tonight…and for the next decade or so. See you!”

      Micah pulled the door shut tightly, remaining in the building. Turning to her right, she walked down the hallway toward the gym and the side exit that led to the parking lot where she had parked her car. The building had cleared out quickly, and she hastened her pace a little as she continued down the long, empty corridor. Then she heard the comforting sounds of someone else in the building. Probably a janitor, she assumed. They worked later than everyone else normally did so they could lock up the school. Metal chairs that were being folded and returned to their rack made clanking, banging noises that reverberated through the gymnasium. She walked past the bakery display and the unattended office equipment of the secretarial exhibit toward the noise and the side door leading to the parking lot.

      “Hello, again.”

      Micah gasped at the unexpected voice.

      “I didn't mean to frighten you,” Rob said as he folded the last chair.

      Micah's hand was on her chest, feeling the rapid pounding of her heart. “What are you doing here? I thought everyone but the janitor had gone.”

      Rob motioned toward the vacant floor space where his mock courtroom drama had played out. “I'm putting away the chairs and tables that I used today since I can't come back tomorrow.”

      “Angela said you had a hearing in the morning.” She pushed her hair away from her face and adjusted the books that were shifting in her arms. “The kids really liked your presentation.”

      Rob smiled, a lazy kind of smile. Micah noticed her heart continued to pound too quickly. And she was no longer frightened.

      “Some of them seemed to get caught up in it. I think Wellspring Elementary School has several potential attorneys in it.”

      He stopped talking, and Micah knew she should respond, but she had barely heard his comment, having been too busy studying the contrast between his black hair and blue eyes. The soft pastel of his pale blue shirt seemed to enhance the clear color of his gaze. After all, Micah reasoned, artists notice things like that. Don't they?

      “You don't care much for courtroom drama, do you?” Rob asked.

      “No,” she replied flatly. “I don't”

      He was no longer smiling as he considered her serious expression, and he did not respond. Micah suspected he was waiting for her to elaborate, and since she had no intention of doing that, she repeated what she'd said earlier.

      “You had a nice presentation, and the kids really did enjoy it. It's a shame you can't come back tomorrow and give more of them a chance to be part of the trial.”

      “Maybe next year we'll try again,” he replied. “Maybe by then I can convince you to participate.”

      “Hello,” came a voice from the other side of the military display. An elderly janitor stepped away from the booth out into full view. “How did Career Day go?”

      “Very