Kindergarten Baby: A Novel (6 page)

Lindsey peered across the bar, then looked back at her. “I don’t think he’s either cute or clever,” she said.

“Oh, that’s not him. He had to leave at 8:30. Something about studying. He’s a student. Said he was sorry he wouldn’t get to meet you.”

“If he’s a student, he’s probably way too young,” Lindsey scolded. “What’s going on with you? You’re usually way more discriminating.” But she was curious. “What’s his name?”

“I don’t even know.”

“Good. Fate stepped in and is handling this for you.”

Laura didn’t appear to hear her. Her jaw was set. “But I’ll find out. He said he’d like to talk with me some more, and I think he really meant it. He wasn’t just looking for a big tip.”

The girls relocated to a quiet corner table, ordered some sizzling chicken fajitas and a carafe of coffee, and changed the subject to their Winter Break plans.

“You and I should get away,” Laura coaxed.

“I don’t know. I mean…‌I really would like to have some fun, and I know I need to get away, but I keep hoping Anthony will call. A little voice keeps telling me that if I’m gone for the holidays, that’s when he’ll call, and I’ll miss what might be my only chance to talk with him—”

“Good. That’s exactly what he needs and deserves. You don’t want him thinking that you’re sitting around waiting for him.”

“—and the other not-so-little voice is you, telling me to get real.”

“Well,” Laura said smugly, “someone has to keep things balanced.”

After four hours of people watching, coffee drinking, and trip planning, they were semi-ready to embark on a Grand Canyon winter adventure. Lindsey agreed to make arrangements for their accommodations, and Laura’s job would be to put together a list of possible activities. There would be no time left open for sadness or loneliness, and no need for Anthony.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The week before Winter Break was always a little hectic, with last minute assessments, semester progress reports and grades, class parties, kid-gifts for parents, and the Winter Performance. Completing the usual academic routines was a struggle, because the students were either excited about their upcoming vacations and holiday celebrations or depressed and frustrated at their lack of festivities.

“What have you got planned for these last two weeks before Break?” Judy asked. “You always come up with some clever way to celebrate without breaking any of those annoying separation of church and state policies.”

“Well,” Lindsey said with a sigh, “I’m not much in the mood for festivities right now. We’ll be doing a thematic unit on trees.”

Judy frowned. “That does not sound like you.”

She was right. That was not at all the Lindsey the staff was used to, and she knew some of her co-workers were concerned about her diminishing energy and enthusiasm. Today, as she gathered books, videos, pictures, games, art activities, and puzzles for the Tree Unit, she regained a little of the old‌—‌but not too old‌—‌and innovative Lindsey. The tree unit evolved into the Pine Tree Unit. And because she believed so strongly in hands-on, authentic learning, she felt compelled, even obligated to purchase a living pine tree for her classroom. From there, one thematic unit idea led to another. Since many pine trees grew in cold climates, that led to learning about the animals living in those pine trees‌—‌the ones that neither migrate nor hibernate‌—‌and to their persistent search for food so they could survive the winter. And what could those birds and rodents eat off their classroom tree? Why, strings of red cranberries and popcorn, of course!

“One for the tree and one for me,” chanted Marvin as he worked on a popcorn string.

Lindsey smiled. Sampling the goods was part of the procedure.

“One popcorn, one cranberry, one popcorn, one cranberry,” said Emma, creating a mathematical pattern on her piece of string.

Some of the students sang their version of the “Twelve Days” song as they loaded up their string, munching at the same time.

“Beautiful!” Lindsey exclaimed, clapping. “Just remember, it’s eight bottles of
water
, not beer. There is no mention of beer in this song. Okay? And there are six what?”

“Six spadefoot frogs!” the children announced.

“That’s very close, but here in the desert we have spadefoot
toads
.”

Lindsey kept a watchful eye on Willy, Bobby, and Joseph. The thought of giving them needles, even blunt embroidery needles, made her nervous. But so far, they were engaged and acting appropriately. They’d soon want to move on from this fine-motor activity anyway.

The joy she saw on the children’s faces, the New Age instrumental, hint-of-Christmas music that tickled all their ears, and the fragrant aroma of fresh pine hovering throughout the classroom urged a little cheer in her. Real feelings. Not pretend or forced. She’d almost forgotten what it was like to feel good. And though a lonely, sorrowful feeling still gnawed deep within her, she felt a glimmer of hope that reached out beyond the day.

That optimistic mood continued as Lindsey made her way home from work, still, however, avoiding Speedway Boulevard and the sick feeling that surged through her body whenever she was near The Office‌—‌even though that route would have made the trip a bit shorter.

The Arizona sunset’s tangerine rays faded behind the low hills, and Lindsey detected a hint of crispness in the air. The desert winter was just around the corner.

Struggling to get her key in the door, her arms full of grocery bags and book bags, Lindsey glanced down and noticed a folded piece of paper wedged between the door jam and the door. Her heart flipped at the thought that it could be from Anthony, then she thought better of that. Perhaps it’s from…‌Still hugging the bags to her, she knelt and picked up the note.

My friend and I are waiting in the backyard for you,
it read. It was not signed, but a large, dusty smudge at the bottom of the paper gave Lindsey a pretty good idea of who her visitors might be.

“Wendell!” she shouted with delight. “I’m so glad to see you!” The big dog spread enthusiastic, slobbery kisses all over her flushed cheeks, and she laughed so hard she didn’t notice the other visitor at first.

“Hey, Lindsey.” She glanced up, still smiling, and saw Jake standing there, wearing a sheepish, but charming smile. “I’m officially dog sitting tonight, so I didn’t even have to steal him. Hope you don’t mind the intrusion.”

“Mind? I’m thrilled. Really,” she said, still grinning.

He nodded at her hands. “If you’ll stop clutching a few of those bags so tightly, I’ll help you carry them in.” He hesitated. “Uh, should I have called first? I just thought you’d be so glad to see Wendell again, and I came rushing right over.”

“Oh no,” she assured him, handing over a few bags. “It’s all right. I’m really glad to see Wendell‌—‌and you, of course. You have the night off?”

He nodded. “I worked the lunch shift today.”

“Well then, why don’t you stay for dinner? Grilled orange roughy is on the menu for tonight.”

“Wow! My mouth is watering already.”

Lindsey made a quick detour to the bathroom to check her make-up after a long day in kindergarten and numerous dog kisses. When she came out, Jake was curiously perusing the bookshelves in the living room. She wondered what he thought, and her own eyes passed over some of her favorite titles:
Memoirs of a Geisha
,
Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Like Water for Chocolate, The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty…

“Wow!” he exclaimed. “You’ve got Alistair MacLeod’s book? Did you like it?”

“No Great Mischief?
I’ll let you know. I haven’t even opened the cover yet.”

Jake stayed by the bookshelf while Lindsey went out to start the coals‌—‌with Wendell’s help. He never left her side, and she almost tripped over him several times. It was as if the dog were trying to make up for lost time.

“I miss you, too, Wendell,” she said, scratching behind his floppy ears. His big, brown, loving, dog eyes held hers, and her heart pulsed with joy. She needed the closeness, too. Was it possible that she missed Wendell more than she missed Anthony? She grinned and felt a bit of her own mischief rising to the surface. Of course a man and a dog fill different areas of the heart, but dogs sure were easier to love. And apparently a dog’s level of loyalty far exceeded that of certain men.

“One delicious doggy dinner, coming up!” she said, filling a mixing bowl with his food.

Lindsey outdid herself in the dinner preparation and felt good while she was doing it.

“That smells really good,” Jake said, wandering outside.

She smiled. “Thanks. I’m trying something new. Hope you don’t mind being part of my experiment.”

They talked, exchanging ordinary questions and answers about Jake’s job and school, though deep down she wanted to know more about his relationship with Anthony and Shawna. She told herself she’d work that in later. In the meantime, she was glad to have Jake’s company, to be sharing dinner with someone, and to spend time with Wendell.

“It must be difficult, supporting yourself and your home all on your own,” he said at one point. “I’ve heard all the stuff about teacher salaries.”

She shrugged. “It’s hard, but I get by.” She grinned. “I can still afford Chinese food once in a while. Would you like some wine with dinner?”

“I would love some wine,” Jake said with an infectious smile.

For a moment she was caught in the twinkle of his blazing blue eyes, then she shook her head, clearing her thoughts, and went inside to select a bottle. On her way she started wondering…‌was he even old enough to drink? What if she was supplying alcohol to a minor? That would be a crime. She could just imagine the headlines: Kindergarten Teacher Arrested for Giving a Student Alcohol.

Other than the underage alcohol issue, she found she really didn’t care how old he was. She had started to really enjoy his company. He might just be a college student, a fast food delivery driver, and a dog sitter, but most of all he was a really nice guy with shiny, dark blond hair that always looked just a bit windblown. His compelling blue eyes seemed to probe into her soul. There was something about him, some mysterious, attractive aura she couldn’t define.

Oh dear,
she thought.

She didn’t realize she’d mentally drifted off until Jake called from the patio. “Lindsey? Are you all right?”

“Just fine,” she said, coming back outside to the grill. “Jake, I have to be honest with you.” That was true, she reasoned. It’s just that she was only going to be partially honest‌—‌at least for now. “And right this minute, I have two things on my mind. First of all, it just occurred to me that I barely know you, or anything about you, and here you are in my house, with my dog, about to drink wine with me and—”

“I think I get it,” he interrupted. “I assure you I’m harmless.”

She blushed. “Oh, I didn’t mean that I was afraid in any way. Not really. It’s just that…‌well, I’m a teacher and you’re a student. You called me ‘ma’am’ on several occasions, and here we are, about to drink wine together.”

Jake’s eyes brightened, and he laughed out loud. “I assure you, Miss Lindsey, you are not corrupting a minor. I’m old enough to drink wine without anyone going to jail. No front page scandal here.”

Lindsey laughed, too, relieved, though somewhat embarrassed. One question answered, dozens more to go.

While she carried the grilled delights into the kitchen, Jake poured the wine, and they dined on orange roughy topped with a green cilantro salsa, alongside a grilled mix of zucchini, small purple-skinned potatoes, corn, bell peppers, and onions. For a while they were both so involved in devouring the meal that they didn’t speak. Before long, the conversation picked up again.

“How long will my dog be with you?” she asked.

He frowned. “Good question. I’m not sure. The lady said just tonight, but I never really count on what she says, so maybe more.”

Lindsey set her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand. “He
is
my dog, you know.”

After a sip of wine, he chuckled warmly. “I don’t know what’s going on here with regard to Wendell, but he sure knows you well. Do you want to tell me about it?”

She surprised herself. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, I do.”

They sat on the sofa and talked until dawn. Lindsey opened up, describing how it had felt to come home sick and find her husband in bed with another woman. She managed not to cry when she described how he’d left that same day and planned never to return.

“But he did return‌—‌to take Wendell.”

And that left me with absolutely nothing to truly care about.

***

The morning sun blushed through a layer of thin clouds, but Jake hardly noticed it. Most days he would have lingered until this spectacular, pastel vision had faded, but he’d been out all night. He had no time for that. He returned to his small apartment, quickly gulped his first mug of coffee, and opened his laptop.

It took a moment before he could type anything. He was feeling overwhelmed by the amount of information he’d been given over the last ten hours. Information he hadn’t even asked for. He’d interviewed many women before, read stacks of similar research, thought he’d heard it all. Actually, he
had
heard it all, but this woman was different. She was still in shock, still numb, and he could feel her pain, her anger, her loneliness. He had to write about her; he wanted to write about her.

Objectivity would be a challenge. Nevertheless, he began to type:
Subject D is an attractive, twenty-six year old kindergarten teacher; separated for approximately three months; reason for being alone‌—‌husband left her for another woman. Classic, textbook scenario…
He typed what he knew of her, and soon the words came faster than his fingers could tap.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“I hate dress rehearsals. They’re so darned nerve wracking. They always go badly. And there’s no way to get the kids‌—‌every kid in the whole school, all at once‌—‌to sit quietly in the cafeteria until it’s their turn. They’re too excited. Why do we do this?” demanded Lindsey, addressing no one in particular, though Judy was close enough to hear her.