Leo took the index card from a freckled boy with a missing front tooth and matched his name to her list. “Nate Freeman.”

“That’s my name. Don’t wear it out,” the third-grader whistled cheekily as his friends guffawed.

Rolling her eyes, she guided him to the front of the rural backdrop and positioned his hands atop a faux split-rail fence. “Keep your feet on those feet, please,” she said, indicating the yellow shoe prints on a mat on the floor. She had gone through her detailed instructions for school pictures when the class first arrived in the media center, but the children had paid her little mind once their teacher vanished and left them under her supervision.

“All right, Nate. Stop looking at that pretty girl in the red dress and look at me instead.” The children within earshot hooted as Leo clicked the shutter to capture a blushing smile. Nate’s parents were going to love that photo.

“I wasn’t looking at Alisa,” he protested.

“I wouldn’t blame you one bit if you did.” She shot Alisa a wink that caused the girl to grin with obvious pride. “Now move along to the back of the other line. Who’s next?”

One by one, she worked the crowd of eight-year-olds like a comic in a lounge act, pulling out all the stops to get the right reaction, the perfect expression. She loved the portrait side of photography, which constituted the bulk of her business. From the time she was twelve years old she had worked alongside her father in the studio learning what he considered the most important mechanical aspects of photography—lighting and composition. But what mattered most with commercial portraits, he had said, was making people happy with how they looked on film.

She had cut her professional teeth on school pictures, hundreds upon hundreds of children every fall all over the Monterey Peninsula, using each sitting to hone her skills. That had been her father’s idea, a training tool so she would be ready to take over the business upon his retirement. Instead, it had become a principal source of revenue while she struggled to maintain the studio after her father’s sudden death six years ago. Fresh out of community college where she had studied business administration, she had been forced at twenty years old to put her education to practice in the support side of the studio—marketing, finance and administration. Thanks to steady jobs like this one, Westcott Photography had weathered her father’s death, and she now had the chance to focus more on her craft.

“Alisa Workman.” Leo guided the girl in the red dress into position and returned to peer through the viewfinder. “All right, say…cheesy sneeze.” She snapped the portrait as Alisa laughed at the silly phrase, and got another keeper.  

Though she shots hundreds of identical photos in a single week, each was important to her. For most kids, these formal sittings were the benchmarks of their childhood. They would line the walls of their homes and fill the wallets of proud aunts, uncles and grandparents. They were permanent, enduring reminders of progress toward adulthood.

“That one won’t come out,” a boy taunted from the line. “Nate already broke the camera.”

Leo shot him a scolding look, but he had turned away to laugh with his friends. Too bad she didn’t have an assistant, someone to help pose the children and keep them in line while they waited. If only the teachers would stay with them, but no. They dropped their students off at the media center and disappeared. And most, like Mrs. Tyler right now, took their sweet time coming back.

“Nate loves Alisa,” the children sang.

“I do not!”

Even towering over them at five-nine, she didn’t seem to intimidate them in the least. They grew louder by the minute, pushing and shoving in line, and popping one another with the complimentary plastic combs she had handed out when they first arrived. To make matters worse, another class was coming through the door.

 “All right, kids. Settle down. I’d appreciate it if you’d stand quietly by the door and wait for Mrs. Tyler.” Her pleas for calm had no effect. She could barely hear herself speak above the din of simultaneous conversations. Managing unruly kids was not in her skill set.

“Excuse me, what is your name?” A quiet voice—an adult voice—came from the doorway.

Leo whirled to see a young woman approaching the third-graders, focusing on Alisa, who hadn’t caused any trouble at all. The woman, petite and slightly built with wavy brown hair past her shoulders, looked barely old enough to be a teacher, but she exuded an amazing aura of authority. Leo thought Alisa was going to be scolded by mistake and was about to intervene when the class suddenly grew silent.

“Alisa Workman,” the girl replied shyly.

“I really like the way you follow directions, Alisa. I bet Mrs. Tyler is very proud of you.” At once, the other third-graders turned forward and straightened their line. “It’s especially nice the way you keep your hands to yourself and listen to Miss…” She turned to Leo and flashed a brilliant smile.

“Westcott.” Leo watched numbly, captivated by the way the woman had taken charge.

“To Miss Westcott. I wish you were in my class, Alisa.”

So she was a teacher after all, and apparently a respected one. Without raising her voice, she had brought the ruckus to a halt. Every single student in Mrs. Tyler’s class seemed to want to please her.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Mrs. Tyler is late.”

“I’ll be happy to wait with them if you want to start on my group. I’m Claudia Galloway, by the way.” The woman held out her hand. “I’m doing my internship with Miss Irwin this semester.”

She took the offered hand. So she was Sandy Irwin’s intern—that explained why she looked so much younger than the other teachers, twenty-two at the most. Leo couldn’t wait to talk with Sandy again and ask her all about this Miss Galloway. “I’m Leo Westcott.”

“I know.” She stepped away from the children and lowered her voice. “I have a message for you from Sandy, which is to stop in later and say hi if you have the chance.”

“Yeah, she and I are good friends.” Leo instantly worried that she shouldn’t have offered that. Sandy usually kept her personal life private at school. “I know a lot of the teachers because I’ve been shooting here so long. I have a studio in town.”

“Westcott Photography? That gray Victorian on Van Buren Street?”

“That’s the one.”

“I sometimes cut through Van Buren on my way home. I love all those old houses along there, especially yours. Maybe if I stop by sometime you’ll let me peek inside.”

“Sure, I’ll give you a tour of the whole place.” Leo couldn’t believe the invitation had come out of her mouth, and to a virtual stranger no less. She was glad to show off her studio, but rarely invited people upstairs to her private quarters.

Mrs. Tyler suddenly bustled into the media center. “Sorry I’m late,” she said unconvincingly.

“It’s all right. I was just admiring the way Alisa leads your class,” Miss Galloway said. “And I’m really pleased to see what good listeners they all are.”

“Too bad I don’t have more like her. They can’t behave themselves, no matter what I threaten them with.” No sooner did she disparage her class than the whispering and fidgeting started again. “See what I mean?”

Leo watched in astonishment as the class filed out noisily behind their frazzled teacher. Over her shoulder, she could see Miss Irwin’s class standing quietly as they waited to have their pictures taken.

“That was…I don’t know what it was. How did you do that?”

Miss Galloway winked at her and smiled. “We all have our tricks.”

“Can you teach me that one? I don’t have a clue how to handle these kids, and all the teachers keep running off and leaving me on my own.”

“Not much to it, really. Sandy and I expect our boys and girls to behave like Alisa.” She tipped her head in the direction of the retreating class. “And Mrs. Tyler expects her class to misbehave.”

“Which is exactly what they did when she came back.” Leo looked again at Sandy’s class, astounded by the contrast between the two groups. “You’re a magician, Miss Galloway.”

“Call me Claudia, please. And there’s no magic here. It’s a teaching philosophy based on something called the Pygmalion Effect.”

“What’s that?”

“We studied it in college.” Claudia turned sideways and cupped her mouth so her students wouldn’t hear. “It’s a principle that says students usually do what you expect them to do. So at the start of the school year, we told them how pleased we were that they had given us all the top students.”

“So that’s it. You got the cream of the crop.”

“No, actually we didn’t. They’re just a randomly assigned group, but they think they’re the top group so they act like it.”

“Pretty sneaky.” Leo looked at the youngsters again. “I think I can manage your class by myself if you want to take a break. I just need to explain the process, and your students look like they might actually listen.”

“They will, I guarantee it. But I don’t mind sticking around if it’s okay with you. Maybe I can help.”

Leo was more than happy to see her stay, and not just to keep the children in line. After three days in a row of being with kids, she was starved for adult conversation. As Claudia handed out the black combs with the studio’s name printed in gold, Leo introduced herself to the students and walked them through the photo process. Then she assumed her position behind the camera while Claudia directed each student to the footprints on the floor and helped them pose behind the rail.

“That’s it. Left hand on top,” Leo said.

After positioning the children, Claudia scuttled to stand beside Leo to coax smiles from their faces. With her enthusiasm and help, Leo finished the class in half the usual time.

“I don’t suppose I could hire you for the rest of the day.”

“I wish I could, but this isn’t as much fun as arithmetic,” Claudia answered, looking at her students for support. “Is it?”

The children grumbled and rolled their eyes.

“I understand. Nothing is that much fun…unless it’s getting your teacher to pose for a picture.”

“Yeah!” twenty-five young voices answered in unison.

Leo nodded toward the backdrop. “What do you say?”

Claudia shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh, I think so. You’re going to want a souvenir of Melrose Elementary. What better one than this?”

At her class’s urging, Claudia acquiesced and went to stand behind the rail, which was below the level of her hips. “This is going to look pretty funny.”

“It just so happens…” Leo loosened a wing nut on each side and lifted the rail to waist high. “It’s adjustable. No more excuses. Now you have to smile.” When she positioned Claudia’s hands, she noticed an enormous diamond ring.

 “It’s going to look pretty funny when my picture comes back with the others.”

“I won’t send these through the school.” Eschewing the long-roll camera on her tripod, she took three photos with her handheld favorite, a 35mm Nikon FM2.  Then she handed Claudia her pencil and notepad. “Jot down your address and I’ll mail them to you. On the house.”

“Why don’t I just write down my phone number? You can call me when they’re ready and I’ll come by your studio and pick them up. That way I’ll get the tour of your house.”

“Sure, that would work.” Leo was already looking forward to the call. “I should have them ready by next week.”

The next group appeared in the doorway and Leo checked the clock on the wall. Five minutes early, but that teacher didn’t seem to care, since she had already disappeared. Claudia turned her line toward the door and in a soft voice directed her students to return to the classroom.

“Thanks for your help,” Leo called.

“Any time.” She glanced at her retreating class, then back at Leo. With a sheepish shrug, she qualified her offer. “Except now. It’s time for arithmetic.”

Leo loaded the last of her equipment from the media cart into her vehicle, an eight-year-old blue Volvo station wagon. A panel van would have been more practical for the business, but she couldn’t afford to maintain two vehicles and didn’t want a van for her personal use. The Volvo was like family, over a hundred thousand miles and still going strong.

Her afternoon had flown by, thanks to Claudia Galloway, who had occupied her thoughts through four classes of second graders, the last on the schedule for Melrose Elementary. She had put Claudia’s technique into practice, and was amazed at how quickly the children quieted when told they were the best-behaved class she had seen all day. Too bad she hadn’t known about the Pygmalion Effect three days ago when she started her shoot at Melrose. It was definitely going into her bag of tricks for future jobs.

From the teachers’ parking lot she had a direct view of the bus ramp where excited students were lining up to board buses for the ride home. Claudia was supervising the chaos, and Leo took the opportunity to study her from afar. In her tan skirt and pink oxford shirt she was the picture of professionalism, and at the same time the girl next door.  

In just twenty minutes of casual chatting, Claudia had sparked her interest, though the rock on her hand had quickly defined the parameters as friends only. Of course, Claudia might not be keen on being friends once she learned Leo was gay, which some people guessed as soon as they took in her appearance, her deeper than average voice and the way she carried herself. She made no pretense about it, but that didn’t mean she felt a special obligation to reveal anything about her personal life, especially in a case like this, since the only real interest Claudia had expressed was in touring her Victorian house.    

“That’s right. She only wants to see the house,” she said aloud, and then looked around as she slammed the back gate of her wagon to see if anyone had overheard her talking to herself.

She lowered her sunglasses and looked back at the bus ramp, where Claudia was waving goodbye as each busload pulled away. Leo wasn’t normally quick to make friends and could barely keep up with the ones she already had, but something about Claudia compelled her. She walked back into the building past the media center to the familiar classroom, where Sandy was grading papers at a table in the back of the room. “Hey, stranger.”

“Leo! Sorry I missed you today.” Sandy, easily the most stylish of Leo’s friends, wore a smart green dress with a flowing paisley scarf and brown heels. She pushed her straight blond hair from her brow and grinned over the top of her glasses. “Very sorry, in fact, because I was in a parent-teacher conference with a mom who thinks her son ought to be skipped ahead to high school.”

“If anyone’s ready for high school, it’s the kids in your class. I couldn’t believe how smart and well-behaved they all were.”

“You can thank my intern for that. She’s pretty amazing.”

Leo pulled out one of the miniature chairs and perched on the edge. “She told me how you expected them to be the best and they were.”

“It was all Claudia’s idea, and it’s not just the kids. I sit up straighter too!” Sandy laughed as she stood and collected her purse. “Come with me to the lounge so I can have a cigarette.”

“Good, I need to talk to you about something. I hope you don’t get mad at me.”

“Depends on what you did.”

Leo waited until they were inside the empty lounge and seated on a vinyl couch. “Where is everybody? I figured all the teachers dashed in here the minute the kids left.”

“Nah, they’re probably doing their lesson plans for tomorrow. Not everyone is lucky enough to have an intern. I tell you, it’s like having a personal slave.” Sandy lit her cigarette and took a deep draw. “So what am I not supposed to get mad at you about?”

“I, uh…I sort of slipped and told Claudia we were friends.”

Sandy shrugged. “No big deal. I already told her that much.”

Leo was mildly surprised. “I thought you tried to keep your personal life under the radar here at school.”

“I usually do, but Claudia already knows about Maria and me.”

This she found shocking. “You’re kidding.”

Sandy shrugged. “We spend a lot of time together, so we talk about things. She just struck me as somebody who would be okay with it, and she was.”

“I guess that shouldn’t surprise me. She’s pretty nice. Most of the teachers just drop their kids off and leave me to deal with them but she stuck around and helped.”

“You’re smitten,” Sandy said with a conspiratorial grin. “Too bad. She’s got a fiancé. Did you get a load of that three-carat diamond?”

“I am not smitten.” Intrigued, she conceded, but not smitten. “So she wasn’t freaked out about you and Maria?”

“Seems to be fine. She came over to the house for dinner last week. Matter of fact, I was thinking about asking her to our Halloween party next weekend. You’re going to be there, aren’t you?”

“Sure, but”—she lowered her voice in case someone walked in—“why would a woman come to a lesbian party if she has a boyfriend?” Maybe it was the Patty Clemons theory. Patty thought straight women who hung out with lesbians weren’t really straight at all—they just didn’t know it yet.

“I feel sorry for her because she doesn’t have any friends here. Her family lives down the coast in Cambria. She’s only going to be here for a semester, so why not include her in the mix if she’s up for it?”

Leo nodded in agreement, determined now to add Claudia to her list of friends. “She said she liked my house and I invited her over to see it. You think that’s okay?”

“Why not?” Sandy nudged her teasingly. “Maybe she’ll have an epiphany.”

“Very funny.” Leo smacked her knee and stood. “See you next weekend.”

She scooted out the side door to the parking lot, glancing back at the bus ramp one last time. The kids were gone and so was Claudia. It was silly to be disappointed about the fiancé.

Claudia smiled as she silently shuffled down the carpeted hallway to the classroom. Her first day in charge of the full schedule of lessons had gone better than she had hoped, which she attributed to Sandy easing her into the job one subject at a time. The only hitch had been the incident after lunch when David Spiegel threw up at her feet. At least she had managed to fight back the urge to return the favor.

She was eager to debrief the day with Sandy, but when she reached the classroom it was deserted. “Probably smoking in the teachers’ lounge,” she murmured. She had half expected to find her talking with Leo Westcott, whom she had seen re-enter the building. Maybe both of them were having a cigarette…nah, she had stood right next to Leo while she adjusted the split rail and hadn’t picked up even a whiff of stale tobacco.  

The question that really intrigued her wasn’t if Leo smoked—it was whether or not she was gay. Not that it mattered one way or the other. She was only curious because Sandy had said she was a personal friend. There were things about Leo that fit her usual image of lesbians—like her short hair, plain attire and sinewy build—but those also described lots of straight women she knew from UC-Santa Cruz. They certainly didn’t make her unattractive, especially with those stunning green eyes and long lashes.

Claudia had finished the day with a geography lesson, getting so caught up in talking about Thailand that the final bell had taken her by surprise. Her students had enjoyed her firsthand accounts of the Thai people and their culture, and she was glad for the chance to revisit her memories. As a result, the photos and souvenirs she had collected two years ago in Bangkok were scattered across a table at the front of the room, and she was gathering them up when Sandy returned.

“Nice job, kiddo! I’m going to bring my pillow tomorrow so I can catch a nap while you do all the work.”

Claudia grinned sheepishly. “I’m just glad I got my first day behind me. I don’t expect it to get easier but at least my nerves will start to calm down. The kids weren’t too hard on me.”

“If you were nervous, it didn’t show.”

Sandy drew an emery board from her purse and filed a sculpted nail, another reminder to Claudia that stereotypes didn’t hold up very well. She would never have guessed Sandy was a lesbian if she hadn’t told her.

Claudia nodded toward the back of the room. “You wouldn’t have gotten much of a nap today. Every time I looked back there you were writing something down.”

“I made a list of little things you could work on but there’s nothing major.” Her upbeat encouragement notwithstanding, Sandy went on with a pointed critique that included insufficient eye contact, a tendency to talk too fast and to stand in one place too long. “At first I was worried you weren’t projecting enough, but then I saw that everyone was straining to hear and I figured that was good, like they’re afraid they might miss something. Maybe you’re onto something with that.”

For such a glowing review, the list of weak spots was too long for Claudia’s satisfaction. She tried to keep a positive attitude throughout the evaluation, but her discouragement must have been obvious.

“Don’t get all down in the dumps about this,” Sandy said, gripping her shoulder. “A lot of these things are just differences in teaching style. I was back there nitpicking, trying to come up with suggestions so you’d know I was paying attention. You’ll be a terrific teacher even if you ignore every single thing I said.”

Despite her disappointment, it helped to hear what she could do better and she didn’t want to inhibit Sandy’s criticism. “No, I want you to tell me what you think I need to work on. I just feel silly for some of this stuff because I know better.”

“Of course you do. But this job isn’t as easy as it looks. You just need more practice and that’s what your internship is all about.”

Sandy was right. She’d had plenty of chances in the past two years to stand in front of a classroom, but taking responsibility for a full day was tougher than she had anticipated. It was hard to remember all the little things when she was preoccupied with staying two steps ahead of her students.

“You’re still frowning. Quit worrying about it already,” Sandy said. “Leo stopped by and said she was going to give you a tour of that old house of hers. She must have liked you because she’s never offered to give any of us a tour.”

Considering how quickly she and Leo had hit it off, she was surprised. “Hmm…I sort of invited myself. I hope I wasn’t too pushy.”

“Don’t worry about it. She’d have found a way to say no if you weren’t welcome. She’s not unfriendly, but she does tend to keep people at arm’s length, especially at first. I think she’s just a little shy.”

“Really? I would never have guessed that.”

“That’s because you saw her with her camera in her hand. Maria says she’s a whole different person when she’s shooting pictures, all relaxed and confident. She really likes Leo’s work. Says she’s going to be great one of these days if she keeps learning.”

Claudia remembered seeing Maria’s photography hanging throughout the house when she had gone there for dinner. “That’s high praise coming from someone like Maria.”

“Yeah, Leo definitely knows her stuff. By the way, she’s coming to our house next Saturday for a Halloween party”—she lowered her voice markedly—“along with about forty other women of the lesbian persuasion. Why don’t you come too?”

“A Halloween party?” That answered her question about Leo, but it raised another about why Sandy would invite her to such an event. “It sounds like fun, but honestly, I don’t want to horn in on you and your friends.”

Sandy scowled. “Oh, that’s bullshit. One thing Leo and I have in common is that I don’t invite people unless I want them to show up. I’ll run interference and make sure they all know you’re just a friendly. Just wave that rock under their noses.”

She looked self-consciously at the diamond on her hand. It was a whole lot bigger than it needed to be, but Mike didn’t do anything on a small scale. “Maybe I should leave this at home.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You’ll be fighting off horny dykes all night.”

She could feel herself start to blush. Getting hit on wouldn’t bother her as long as they respected her response, but she couldn’t imagine they would waste their time on someone who was straight. “I doubt that.”

“Trust me, Claudia.” Sandy hooked her purse over her shoulder and flipped off the lights, signaling an end to their workday. “They’d be on you like flies on honey.”

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