Authors: Robin Jones Gunn
Jessica moved to the front quickly, “Yes? I’m Jessica.”
Ms. Mendelson scanned her up and down before replying. Her eyes rested on Jessica’s lip. “I understand you are here under Hugh’s personal recommendation.”
Jessica nodded.
“May I ask what happened to your face?”
“I was in a car accident a few days ago.”
“You’re all right, I hope.” It didn’t sound fully sympathetic, but Jessica guessed it might be as good as it got with someone like Ms. Mendelson.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“You will have those stitches taken care of before classes start, I assume.”
“I see the doctor on Wednesday.” Jessica felt a mixture of anger and embarrassment.
Charlotte Mendelson seemed to be examining Jessica’s lip even closer before asking, “Did they tell you it would leave a permanent scar?”
Jessica had wondered about that horrible question a hundred times during the past few days. Each time she had concluded to sweep the fear back under the carpet. How could this person pull up the rug and expose Jessica’s terror like that?
“Was there something you wanted to see me about?” Jessica asked.
Charlotte pushed on, as if she were the one who had changed the subject. “It seems we don’t have your file. I suppose
Hugh forwarded it to the district office already, but our secretary had only a yellow Post-It note saying, ‘Jessica—English, arrive Wednesday or Thursday.’”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Would you go to the office then and provide the necessary information before going to your classroom?” It was more of a demand than a question. Ms. Mendelson turned on her high red heels. She called out to a man whom Jessica guessed might be the football coach by the blue shorts he wore and the white just-a-tad-too-tight T-shirt covering his broad chest.
Jessica found her way down the hall to the office and tried to lower the temperature on the anger gauge in her head. Ms. Mendelson was someone she would have to learn to work with, and the best route might be to try to walk away from every possible conflict with her that arose.
Jessica wished she had dressed nicer for today. Instead of business attire, she had worn jeans, an ivory T-shirt, and a natural tone vest with four antique brass buttons down the front. She had pictured herself spending the day cleaning out cupboards and decorating bulletin boards, not being forced into a battle with her new boss. If she had known, she definitely would have worn the blue Liz Claiborne suit. Yes, definitely a consideration for the first day of school. Or perhaps for the first school board meeting.
When Jessica opened the door of the school office, she noticed a man with vaguely familiar broad shoulders at the counter, speaking to the school secretary.
“Could you tell me which room Miss Fenton is in?” the deep voice of Kyle Buchanan asked.
“Miss Fenton? I don’t believe we have a teacher by that name,” the small woman replied.
“Actually, it’s me,” Jessica said.
A smile spread across Kyle’s face as he turned to face her.
“You’re sure looking a lot better! How are you feeling, Jessica?”
The secretary peeked around Kyle’s broad frame. “Oh,” she said, “so you’re Jessica. We didn’t even have your last name written down. Fenton, is it? F-e-n…” The secretary stopped, with her pencil poised on her notepad, waiting.
“T-o-n,” Jessica finished for her.
“Good. I need to ask you a few questions before you leave the office.”
“I won’t keep you,” Kyle said. He lowered his voice and leaned closer to Jessica. His green eyes raced around her frame and face before coming to the finish line—her eyes. “I’ve been on duty at the station the last few days, but I have the next few off, so I thought I’d see if you needed anything. Don’t you need to go back to the doctor’s on Wednesday? Could you use a ride?”
Jessica was about to give her usual, “That’s okay, you don’t have to worry about me” answer, when Charlotte burst through the door.
“Well, hello!” she cooed the moment she saw Kyle. “I don’t believe we’ve met yet. I’m the school principal, Charlotte Mendelson.” She held out her hand, as if Kyle were expected to kiss it. Kyle politely shook it.
“Kyle Buchanan.”
“By any stroke of good fortune, are you the new teacher I haven’t met yet?”
“He’s a firefighter,” the secretary piped up from her overflowing desk. “Everyone knows Kyle.”
Charlotte kept on smiling and said, “Well, a firefighter. You’ll have to come and do an assembly on fire safety for me. I’m sure you’re a fabulous speaker. Shall we step into my office and arrange a date?”
Jessica felt her anger toward this woman boil up inside all over again.
“Actually, I need to get going,” Kyle said politely. “Anyone on our crew would be glad to help out with an assembly. You can call the fire station whenever you find a time that fits in with your schedule.”
“Fine. I’ll do that.” Charlotte smiled at Kyle as if she could magnetize him.
He turned his attention back to Jessica. “Wednesday, then?” he asked. “I’ll call you and find out what time you want me to pick you up.”
Jessica nodded.
“Excuse me, ladies.” Kyle nodded to each of them and left.
“How do you know him?” Charlotte asked Jessica.
Jessica considered not responding and simply walking away, but she would have to come back anyway to answer the secretary’s questions. Plus, like it or not, this woman was her boss. She had been in worse situations. She could handle herself with Charlotte.
“We met on a blind curve.”
“What?” Charlotte demanded.
Jessica took two steps past Charlotte and asked the secretary, “Did you need me to fill out some papers for you?”
The tiny woman behind the desk looked wide-eyed at Jessica and said, “Oh, yes, only a few forms here. We have nothing about you in our files, you see. And sometimes it takes days or even weeks to get copies from the district office. It would certainly help if you wouldn’t mind filling these out for me.”
“Sure. Would you like them back today, or may I bring them to you tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow would be fine,” the secretary said, nodding her head.
“We need them today,” Charlotte inserted into the conversation. “Until those papers are filled out, you are not officially employed at my school. Do you understand, Ms….?” Charlotte
shot a sharp glance at the secretary as if Jessica were invisible. “What’s her last name?”
The secretary quickly fumbled for her notepad. “Uh, Fenton. Jessica Fenton.”
“Do you understand, Ms. Fenton?”
Jessica would
not
let this woman get the better of her today, tomorrow, or any day. Charlotte Mendelson would
not
control her.
Without a word, Jessica turned to the secretary and said, “Would you like me to use a pen or pencil, or does it matter?”
“Pen, of course,” Charlotte barked and strode into her office, purposefully leaving the door open.
“Pen, I guess,” the woman replied, handing Jessica two short forms. “And this is a school handbook. You can keep that. I guess I’ll take the forms when you’ve completed them.”
Jessica sat in a straight-backed wooden chair in the corner of the waiting area, as far away from Charlotte’s door as possible. She filled out her name, address, and phone number, which she copied from a card she had placed in her purse the day before. There wasn’t much else in her wallet. She had burned her Sprint FONCARD, her Bank of America Versatel card, her California driver’s license, and four major credit cards. All that was left was the card she had made the night before with her hand-printed new identity and the last studio photo taken of her and her mother.
From the principal’s office, Jessica heard Charlotte’s speaker phone as she made a call. It rang twice, and then a male voice answered, “Glenbrooke Fire Station. This is Bobbie.”
“Kyle Buchanan, please,” Charlotte replied.
“Kyle’s off for the next three days. Can someone else help you?”
“No, I think I’ll try him at home. Say, do you happen to have that number handy?”
Jessica tried to block out the game going on in the next room. She stuck to her forms, filled them out front and back, and handed them to the secretary.
“I’ll see you later,” Jessica said and left as quickly as she could to hide in the safety of room 14—
her
room. She opened the door, slid inside, and leaned against the closed door while letting out a pent-up sigh.
Opening her eyes, she took in her surroundings. Plain enough, old enough, and just clean enough. Room 14 reminded Jessica of one of her old high school classrooms. The long brick buildings that housed Glenbrooke High School had to be thirty, maybe forty, years old. The room had the smell of ground-in eraser dust, and yet many improvements such as the new lighting and the white boards that replaced chalkboards made it a “modern” school.
Jessica focused in on her desk at the front of the room. Reverently she approached it and ran her hand across the wood surface, feeling each nick. She smiled contentedly to herself. While the desk was old, solid wood with an intriguing relief map of its many years etched across its surface, the chair was brand new, with black vinyl arms and a gray fabric seat. It had two levers on the side so the chair could be adjusted up and down or back and forth. Jessica tried out the high-tech gem, chuckling to herself as a pull on the first lever took her down instantly. Better not show the class clown where that lever was. But then, class clowns already know those things, don’t they?
She heard a light tapping at the closed door, and then it squeaked open. Jessica immediately stood up, as if she had been caught goofing off and Charlotte was going to yell at her.
“Hi,” a cheery voice called out. “Are you Jessica? I’m Teri.” A medium height Hispanic woman with full, wildly curly, long brown hair entered the room. She had on a white, sleeveless,
collared shirt and a baggy pair of cut-off jeans shorts. In contrast to her smooth, tanned skin and dark, snappy eyes, her white teeth shone like pearls.
Jessica met Teri halfway across the room and shook Teri’s extended right hand. “I’m your neighbor,” Teri said. “I teach Spanish right over there.” She pointed to the back of the classroom. “I hear you’re going to teach English and a health ed class. I teach one health ed class, too. This year I think they tried to split it up so all the teachers each have one class. It’s not that bad. Kind of a nice break, actually. How long have you been here? Are you all settled?”
Teri fit the pattern of the friendly Glenbrooke folk. Close up, Jessica noticed that Teri didn’t wear a drop of makeup, yet her skin was stunning. Jessica guessed her to be the same age as herself, but how could a twenty-five-year-old have the skin of a newborn?
Jessica told Teri how she had unpacked everything over the weekend but was a little slow at getting organized because of the car accident.
“Car accident?” Teri said. “How awful! Did the paramedics come and everything? Were you terrified?”
“A firefighter apparently saw the accident, and he stopped and radioed for help. I thought later that if he hadn’t seen it, I might have lain in that ditch for hours.”
“Who found you? Bobbie, Rod, Kyle, or Jim?”
“Kyle. Do you know him?”
“Of course. Everyone knows Kyle. He’s the best. Really. Kyle’s an incredible guy. A real knight in shining armor, you know?”
Jessica nodded, not sure if Teri meant Kyle was a knight to every woman in Glenbrooke or a knight in shining armor to Teri personally, or just an all-around great guy.
“Anyway, I’m pretty much settled in my little house, and I
go back to the doctor day after tomorrow to have these stitches taken care of.” Jessica made an apologetic gesture toward her upper lip. Teri looked closer.
“Oh, I hardly noticed,” Teri said. “So, what do you think? Should we work on our rooms first or go to an early lunch?”
Before Jessica could answer, Teri said, “I vote early lunch, and it’s my treat. What do you think?”
“You’re on,” Jessica said. She grabbed her purse, and the two women headed for Teri’s Volkswagen Rabbit.
Jessica felt as if she had successfully completed the unwritten, ageless entrance exam given to all new kids on the first day of school—she had made a new friend.
Y
our lip has healed well,” Dr. Laughlin said, examining Jessica under a bright light. “However, I’m afraid we weren’t able to restore you completely.”
What is that supposed to mean? Where’s a mirror? Let me see!
“It’s only a slight scar,” Dr. Laughlin continued, scrunching up his nose and peering through his bifocals. “Hardly worth mentioning. I’m afraid, short of cosmetic surgery, there’s not much we can do. Won’t affect you much, I imagine. Try not to think about it.”
Jessica felt like crying. How could she
not
think about it when a doctor had just informed her she would be scarred for life? How dare he brush it off so lightly. This was her face they were talking about.
Before Jessica had a chance to look in the mirror, she decided she would have cosmetic surgery as soon as she could save up the money. She had turned down the school’s insurance because she couldn’t figure out how to come up with false
medical records under the name of Fenton. She would have to save money, somehow. That is, after she had saved enough for a car. And car insurance. First, she would have to obtain an Oregon driver’s license. Would they give her one with no driving record? This cover-up was becoming complicated.