I can’t keep my eyes off Mrs. Hays’ sweater. “Sophie, faculty meeting is tomorrow after school.” Her sweater vest is completely covered with embroidered felt leaves tacked onto the sweater by the stems. “It starts promptly at three. Can you please be on time?” All together, the look of the sweater is kind of like a large bird, molting. “We also have parent/teacher conferences in two weeks.” Every autumn color is represented—red, green, brown, yellow, and orange—in tacky profusion. “Please send these home with your students for the parents to make their appointments.” Something hits my hand, and I glance down. Oh, a stack of papers. “Thank you,” I tone vacantly. When she leaves, Beth and I clean up our lunches to head back to our rooms. My eyes must have looked as bewildered as I felt because Beth interjects, “She’s the queen of teacher sweaters.” “Teacher sweaters?” I ask as we walk down the hall. “Sweaters only a teacher would wear.” Beth smiles.
