Authors: Ruth Ann Hixson
He knew better than to take the four lane on a Saturday night after a Penn State game. It would be bumper to bumper. He took old Route 322 and headed south. Traffic was pretty heavy on that road, too, because all the locals knew better than to take the four lane. He glanced at the clock on the dash, 8:15pm. That was what time he was supposed to pick up Rochelle. He hoped she would understand why he was late.
He found the street where she lived and pulled in the driveway behind her little blue Ford. She was waiting at the door for him.
"You're late."
"Uh-ha. Cow had to have her calf just when we were doing the milking. I can't control things like that."
She agreed. "Births and deaths don't know how to tell time. That is beyond our control."
He helped her up to the seat and went around to the driver's side. He really didn't know what to talk about. So he just headed south of town.
"Are we going to Haley's?" she asked.
"Uh-ha."
"We'll be standing in line half the night and I'm wearing heels."
"I made a reservation."
"You just asked me out yesterday."
"Uh-ha. They know me."
Mark pulled into the parking lot and the car that was behind him went on. He only had a glimpse of it but it looked like Seth Sommers' mother's Pontiac. Seth was one of his students. His girlfriend was Shannon Weikel who lived just a few houses down from Rochelle on the opposite side of the street. He had seen the green Pontiac parked in front of the house when he passed. Mike DeLong's truck was there, too. He hoped his students weren't keeping an eye on him.
Haley's was really three restaurants in one long building. The upscale restaurant was in the center. They served good food and good wine. It was where everyone who was someone went for dinner. On one end was a family restaurant that served good food but no alcoholic beverages. On the other end was the lounge where alcohol was served as well as sandwiches, chicken nuggets and similar foods. Mark had patronized all three. It was
the
place to go.
Their table was beside the front window so Mark saw when the green Pontiac drove into the parking lot followed by the restored brown 1958 Ford that belonged to Mike. Mark guessed the boys and their dates were up to something. In seemed too much of a coincidence that they chose Haley's just when he happened to be there with Rochelle Logan, the tenth grade English teacher. When he saw Heath Mennon drive by he was almost certain. He couldn't see if they went in the family restaurant because that entrance was on the end.
"We're being watched," he said sotto voice.
Rochelle looked around. "Who?"
He told her about the boys. "By Monday morning everyone in the school will know we came here on a date. If you want something to get around fast just tell a teenager with a cell phone."
"I'll agree with that," she returned emphatically. Just then the waiter came to take their order.
The waiter brought the drinks immediately. Rochelle took a sip of her martini and sat running her finger around the rim of the glass. "I know you didn't ask me out because you want to be with me. That's okay with me." She met his gaze with sad blue eyes. "I thought about cancelling but I figured I owed you this. It didn't seem fair to call off at the last minute. Alex came home today. He called me and said he wanted to see me. He's been back in the states for more than six months but he's been in a rehab unit recovering from his wounds and learning to walk on his artificial foot."
"I'm sorry to hear he was wounded. We used to be friends. Do you think I should send him a card?"
"That would be nice. He's having a tough time of adapting. He might like it if you'd go to see him, too. He asked me to marry him. I said yes."
A grin spread across Mark's face. "Congratulations. I hope you have a long and happy marriage." He truly meant it. He wasn't just being polite.
"Go back to the woman you love," Rochelle advised.
"She doesn't want me."
"Why?"
Once Mark began telling her about Sherry and how he felt, he couldn't quit until he told her everything, including having sex with her and what happened afterward. "She keeps telling me to go home."
"Maybe if you stop thinking about your penis instead of what she really needs from you, you could make headway."
Mark felt his face flush at her candor. He never expected anything like that from the English teacher. He took another bite of chicken and chewed thoughtfully. After he swallowed he said, "And I suppose you can tell me what she needs."
"Gentleness, understanding, patience. She's just a kid. She not as experienced as you."
"Just what Mom said," he replied.
"Listen to your mother. She's speaking from a woman's point of view."
Mark thought about what she said as he drove her home and walked her to her front door. "Thank you for putting up with me tonight." He leaned forward and brushed a light kiss across her lips. Then he walked back to his truck not realizing that six cell phone cameras had captured that one kiss.
****
"What's in the bag?" Jan looked up from where she sat just around the corner of the table from Frank who was at his usual place. They had papers spread out because they'd been going over some of the farm's records.
"A cold six-pack of Bud," Mark answered.
"You're home early," Frank said. "Date didn't go well?"
"She told me to come back to the woman I love. I said she doesn't want me."
Frank nodded toward the bag. "Is that all for you or do you plan to share?"
Mark knew the rules: If you bring it home, you have to share. He set the bag on the table and reached in to tear a cold can free of its plastic collar.
"Thank you." Frank reached out his hand to take it. He popped the top and took a swig. "That's good."
Jan held out her hand. "How about me?"
"You don't even like beer," Mark protested.
"If that's all there is, I want one."
Mark got out another and shoved it across the table to her, a sour expression on his face. "Do you think I can get drunk enough on four beers to forget Sherry for a while?"
"No," Frank answered. "You might get drunk enough to get a good night's sleep. Drinking isn't the answer, son." He had heard Mark pacing in his room in the middle of the night.
"What is? She doesn't want me around. She either locks me out or tells me to get out."
"She told me this afternoon to give you a message. I told her I'm not her messenger boy." Frank drew a deep breath. "I'll tell you to help ease the heartache you're feeling. She said she has some thinking to do and some decisions to make. Then she'll call you. I told her to call you and tell you herself but I guess she didn't."
"I didn't take my cell phone with me tonight. Haley's doesn't like it if you're talking on the cell phone while eating. Maybe I'll call her." He went on through and up the stairs.
Jan stood up and walked to the refrigerator. She set the beer behind a jar of pickles. When she sat back down at the table, her husband looked askance at her. "Mark won't like you lying like that to get one of his beers."
"At least it's one he won't be drinking. I know he's suffering but getting drunk won't help him."
"It helps for a little while. I'm speaking of my own experience after Julie was killed. I wanted to die. If not for Mark I would have committed suicide." He choked up when he remembered.
****
The hands on the copper teapot clock pointed straight up. With a deep sigh, Sherry stood up and carried the kitten to the door where she put her out in the breezeway for the night. She went to bed. But sleep wouldn't come.
At one-thirty she got up and went to the den where she put the last piece of wood on the fire. She saw no reason to stay in bed when she couldn't sleep. Maybe it was the pain in her ribs and back from doing things she wasn't supposed to.
She went to the kitchen and took one of her pain pills. She had stopped taking them because she didn't want to become addicted to pain killers. She went back to the den and curled up in the chair and watched the tongues of flames lick at the wood. The image of Mark that filled her mind was of him with a broad grin showing those beautiful white teeth. His stubble of dark beard made him look sexy. And she wanted him. She had narrowed her choices of the future to two: Mark or college.
Thoughts of college were diminishing as quickly as her bank account, with it the dream of becoming a social worker to help troubled kids. Mark would win by default. By now she knew she loved him but it was so difficult to give up the hopes and dreams she had worked and saved for since she was fifteen. She tried to stop the tears but they came anyway. The quiet kind that just trickled down her cheeks. She closed her eyes as she felt the pain pills taking effect.
She shook herself awake from a dream that she couldn't remember. She was cold. The fire had burned down to smoldering coals. When she went to the bathroom, she heard Mitzi mewing. She opened the door and went to the living room and flopped down on her mattress. The red numerals on her clock showed four-thirty. She went back to sleep with Mitzi curled up beside her.
She woke up feeling Mitzi's wet tongue on the end of her nose. "What's wrong, little one?" It was still dark outside but the clock showed a quarter past six. She forced herself to sit up. Mitzi was already on the way to the kitchen. It was earlier than she usually fed the kitten but she planned to go back to bed and wanted to sleep uninterrupted. She got a can of food and scraped it out on Mitzi's saucer and put it out in the breezeway. She made sure the kitten had water and went back to the kitchen closing the door.
The house was cold so she snuggled down under the comforter and blanket before falling back to sleep. She was awakened by the phone ringing. She struggled to her feet and stumbled to the kitchen. "H'lo."
"Sherry?"
"Who were you expecting, Mom? I live alone."
"I thought maybe you let Mark Blakely move in with you."
"Mark and I aren't on speaking terms right now."
"That's good, baby. You don't want to get involved with him."
"Mom, that was a rotten thing you did. Mark never molested me like you led me to believe. You left here because you were afraid you'd be arrested for filing a false report."
"It wasn't a false report. I know what I saw."
"It was different from what Gram and Gramps saw. Gramps was at the hall window upstairs. Chad Wertman let me read their statements."
"Speaking of Chad Wertman. I saw him downtown and he jumped all over me. He said I caused you to have an emotional breakdown. Is that true?"
"Partly. I took it pretty hard that you lied to me all these years. But it was losing my job that really put me over the edge. I'm picking up the pieces."
"Do you want me to come back to help you? Chad said you're worried about me."
"I'm not worried, Mom. I just want to know you're okay."
"Yeah. I'm okay. I just asked you a question."
"Let me think about it. Call me back later in the week."
"Oh, guess who I saw in at Haley's last night."
"I really don't care, Mom." She knew Mom would tell her anyway.
"Mr. Mark Blakely with a pretty blond woman."
"Elena?" She'd kill him if he went back her.
"No. I don't know who she is."
Sherry tried sounding nonchalant. "I told him to go find someone who'd make him happy. I guess he did. Mom, look. You woke me up. I have to go pee." She hung up and hurried to the bathroom.
****
Jan picked up her cell phone and scrolled to Mark's number. He must have been at his desk because he answered after the first ring. "Mark, come down here, please. I want you to explain something about the computer."
She heard his footsteps on the stairs and a moment later he came into the den where she was doing the bookkeeping for the farm. "What's the problem, Mom?"
"I just got this strange e-mail. I thought perhaps you can tell me about it."
He looked over her shoulder. "Shit! It's on my laptop, too. There are five more. Seeing that I only kissed Rochelle once for about one second that means there were six cell phones." He scrolled down the file. "Six photos all from different angles. My students were having themselves a good old time. By tomorrow they'll be all over the internet and every student with a cell phone will have seen them. I think Mike DeLong and Seth Sommers are the instigators of this. I'll see them in class tomorrow."
"Mr. B. and Miss L.?"
"My students call me Mr. B. Rochelle's last name is Logan. She's the tenth grade English teacher. I knew her in high school. She's been flirting with me since the beginning of the school year."
"Doesn't it bother you that your students did this?"
"Of course. There's not much I can do about it. I'm just glad Sherry doesn't have a computer or cell phone."
"She has a cell phone."
"Uh-ha. But Dad and I are the only ones who have her number. She doesn't have internet access. Where's Dad?"
"Your grandmother called and asked him to come help move something too heavy for her or your grandfather. He should be home soon."
"I'm glad he didn't shut them out after my mother was killed. It's important to me to know that branch of my family."
"I needed them as much as you did," Frank said from the doorway. "What's that on the computer?" He walked over and looked over Jan's shoulder. Then he turned to Mark with raised eyebrows.
Mark repeated what he told his mother, adding, "There's nothing between Rochelle and me. Her ex-fiance is back from Afghanistan minus a foot. He asked her to marry him and she accepted. That kiss was a goodbye, thanks-for-listening-to-me kiss."
"You told her about your problems with Sherry?" Jan asked.
"Spilled my guts," he confirmed.
"Why didn't you talk to me?" Frank asked.
Mark hesitated a moment before replying. "Dad, when it comes to Sherry, you have tunnel vision. To you she can do no wrong."
"What's she done wrong?"
"I don't think it's right the way she's been treating me. I realize she's been going through tough times but she doesn't need to use me as her whipping boy. I didn't cause her troubles."