All of it had been far more interesting that listening to Mr. Gonzales conjugate verbs.
“Talk to me, Dani. Ms. Carlson’s notes say you were eager to return to the classroom in September after being homeschooled for nearly three years. Yet, you’ve been frequently cutting your first period class. Have you been feeling sick again?”
“No.” Dani swallowed hard and winced at her sore throat. At least she wasn’t sick then. Now, she wasn’t so sure. Her throat was probably just dry from the furnace being on last night.
“Then what’s your problem with going to Spanish class? I understand you speak the language fluently.”
“It’s kind of boring taking a class I already know a lot about.”
“That’s understandable. Still, there are a lot of professional opportunities for bilingual individuals, but they also need to read and write the language proficiently.”
“I know. But I also had to talk to a friend who’s havin’ a problem.”
“If your friend is in trouble, she should talk to her guidance counselor instead of pulling you away from your classes. That’s what we’re here for.”
Dani nodded. “I promise Haley and I will go to class from now on.”
Ms. Mason picked up another file on her desk. “You mean Haley Simmons?”
Oh, crap. Dani squeezed her eyes shut. She never should’ve mentioned Haley’s name. Now she would be in trouble, too.
“Don’t worry. You didn’t rat her out. She was already on my list of students to see.”
“You really don’t need to talk to her. I’ll make Haley go to class. And I will, too.”
“Make sure you do. Otherwise, you’ll both be going to detention.” Ms. Mason glanced back at Dani’s folder and frowned. “Riverá. You’re not related to a Justin Riverá, are you?”
“He’s my uncle. Do you know him?”
“Possibly.” The woman’s face turned as pale as the vampires’ in
Twilight
. “If he worked at the outlet mall the summer after high school.”
“My uncle told me he waited tables at a restaurant in Franklin Mills.”
“Right. I can see the family resemblance. Does he have any kids?”
“Nah. He’s still single.” When Ms. Mason sat there silently staring at her for several moments, Dani asked, “Can I go now? I don’t want to miss any more of my class.”
“Sure. Have a good day.”
She rose and opened the office door. “Thanks.” She pointed to the name plaque on the woman’s desk that read
Patricia Mason
. “Was that your name back when my uncle knew you, or did you get married since then? I can ask if he remembers you.”
“No!” The guidance counselor shook her head, looking as if she’d swallowed her tongue. “What I mean is, no, my name hasn’t changed. But please, don’t mention me to your uncle.” Her voice squeaked the same way Dani’s did whenever she got excited. “It’s been so many years, and uhh....he probably wouldn’t even remember me. Besides, it was unprofessional for me to ask about him. So please don’t tell him.”
“O-kaaay.” Dani left the guidance office shaking her head. Why the heck had Ms. Mason freaked out over Uncle Justin? It wasn’t as if he was an axe-murder or anything. Although, he might have quit calling her after only a few dates the same way he had with every other women.
Dani couldn’t wait for lunch period. Haley would love hearing this new development.
~*~
After running with Steve on Tuesday morning, Nick sat on his neighbor’s front steps and studied the incredible comic book Steve had created. He’d printed both sides of legal-sized paper and folded the sheets in half to produce an actual booklet which he’d stapled down the center. It must have taken him hours just to figure out how to lay it all out.
He’d used glossy paper for the illustrated cover which gave the booklet a highly professional appearance. The bottom half of the front cover featured a photo of a little boy sleeping with one of Sam’s Magic Worry Pals Nick had ‘borrowed’ for Steve to use. Above the picture, an animated version of the same little boy playing with his pet had been captured in a comic style thought-cloud, portraying the scene as the child’s dream.
“This is pure genius, Steve. I never expected anything so....perfect.”
“I told you I have OCD.” Steve chuckled. “Ask Tim. I’m a perfectionist.”
“More like a perfect pain in the ass,” Tim muttered as he and Keith stepped out the front door and plopped down beside them. “Steve hasn’t been to bed before two a.m. since you gave him this project.”
“After seeing the results, I believe it.” Nick laughed. “Who’s the little boy on the cover? He’s cute.”
“That’s my nephew,” Tim announced proudly. “By the way, he’s keeping that Magic Worry Pal as his modeling fee.”
“No problem. I didn’t want to have to sneak it back into Sammy’s workroom, anyway.” Nick leafed through the pages in awe. Steve’s depiction of the Worry Pals was brilliant. And the children he’d drawn as the troubled owners of the lovable pets were adorable. The dialogue contained enough wit and humor to entertain even the most jaded adult, and, yet, the story was also heartwarming and sure to enchant any child.
“I made six copies.” Steve handed him five additional comic books wrapped in a rubber band. “If you need more, let me know.”
“This should be enough for now.” After all the work Steve had done printing the booklets, Nick didn’t have the heart to admit most of his communication with the toy companies was via phone and e-mail, and he’d probably be scanning the comic book and sending it electronically.
“Let me see one of those.” Keith said, reaching for a copy. He leafed through the comic book and released a long whistle as he shook his head. “This is incredible. Do you guys have any idea how much this cartoon could generate in merchandizing deals if Samantha’s toy takes off?”
Nick had forgotten Keith’s previous job had involved acquiring the subsidiary rights for copyright-protected images his company used on the products they manufactured.
“We have a vague idea.” Nick chuckled. “That’s why we’re pursuing this.”
Keith released a weary sigh and handed the comic book back to Nick. “You may very well be holding a gold mine there.”
Nick grinned at Steve. “I’ll say it again, pal. You’re a genius. If I was gay, I’d lay a big sloppy kiss on you.”
“Go ahead. I don’t discriminate.” Steve wiggled his eyebrows, puckering his lips.
“Not so fast there.” Tim gave Nick’s shoulder a playful shove. “I’m fussy about who my partner kisses.”
“You ain’t the only one,” Keith muttered in a troubled tone.
“Hey.” Nick nudged him. “What’s got your shorts in a twist today? Besides being unemployed, that is.”
Keith stared at the ground for several seconds as if he wasn’t sure he should share his problems. Finally he said, “Last night Jenny told me she’s pregnant.”
“Congratulations.” Steve and Tim said simultaneously.
“I know the timing sucks,” Nick said, “But weren’t you and Jen hoping to have a little girl someday?”
“Yes, Jenny and
me
.”
Nick frowned. “Who else is there?”
“That’s what I’d like to know.”
Tim glanced at Keith sideways. “Are you saying you think Jenny fooled around?”
“She says she hasn’t. I want to believe her, but....Hell, why
wouldn’t
she? I’m forty-two years old with no job and less and less hair every day.” He closed his eyes and dragged in a labored breath before blurting, “And I haven’t been able to keep my dick up for more than a few minutes in months.”
Everyone fell silent and avoided each other’s gaze. After several seconds, Nick slapped his friend’s back. “Hey, that’s not unusual when a guy is out of work. After Michael died, there were several weeks when I was glad the doctor hadn’t given Sam the go-ahead for sex yet. I’m not sure I could’ve gotten it up then, and I’m a lot younger than you are.”
“Jen claims we conceived from extremely close contact. I know it’s possible, but I’m not sure....” He shrugged his shoulders.
“It sounds like you’re feeling crappy about yourself and letting your imagination get the best of you,” Steve said. “Jen loves you, man. If she says the baby is yours, and you don’t trust her, you may as well tear up your marriage certificate right now.”
“Steve’s right,” Nick agreed. “Let’s assume Jen did stray from the stress you two have been under. Would you call it quits? Or would you forgive her?”
Keith shrugged. “I love her, so if I could be sure it was just a meaningless lapse and she still loves me, then, yeah, I’d try to forgive her.”
“Then trust she’s telling you the truth. If she didn’t still care, she’d be on her way out the door instead of trying to convince her unemployed, loser husband she didn’t cheat on him.” Nick grinned. “I mean, didn’t you just tell us what a lousy catch you are?”
Keith looked up at him and smiled. “Thanks. I didn’t think of it that way. She has absolutely no reason to stay with me other than she loves me.”
~*~
On Friday morning, Samantha sprayed disinfectant on the puzzles she’d spread over a table while the children rested. Several students were already out sick, and flu season had barely begun.
If only Marc had been coming down with a simple virus as she’d feared.
When Casey tiptoed into the room, Sam glanced up from washing the toys. Her boss held up the lunch Sam had packed that morning and promptly forgotten for the second time that week. “Nick dropped this off.”
“Thanks.” She took the brown bag and removed the plastic wrapped tuna sandwich. “You want some? I’m not all that hungry.” Ever since Justin delivered his sad news last Sunday, her stomach had tied itself in a Gordian knot.
“Sure, why not.” Casey accepted half of the sandwich. “Tuna definitely trumps low fat yogurt.” She sank onto a toddler-sized chair. “I guess, since he didn’t ask to deliver this himself, you’re still not talking to him.”
“That’s right.” Sam took a bite of her lunch. Tomorrow would mark two weeks of deafening silence between them—except for the afternoon Justin told them about Marc. A thousand times, she’d wanted to speak to Nick, but the longer she maintained the cold front between them, the harder it was to find a way to break the ice.
“You know, every other woman who works here would be thrilled to have a man like Nick attending her every need. You’re engaged to his rival, and he still drops everything to bring you lunch.”
“I never said Nick isn’t considerate. In fact, the way he dotes on me is downright infuriating. The only reason he does so much is because—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. We’ve all heard it a dozen times. He’s a control freak who wants you totally dependent on him to satisfy some warped Latino sense of responsibility.”
Okay, so maybe she had been beating a triple-crown winner that had died weeks ago.
“Come on, Samantha. Don’t you think you’re being a little tough on him?”
Sam wiped a dab of mayo from her lips with her hand. “Obviously you think so. But after the insufferable way he behaved two weeks ago—”
“He was just jealous and angry at you for flaunting your relationship with Dani’s doctor.”
“Jealous would imply he’s in love with me.”
“Have you ever considered he really might be?” As Sam opened her mouth to respond, Casey held up her hand, cutting her off. “Oh, wait! How could I forget the second stanza in your Ode to Holding a Grudge? Nick is the same proud, possessive idiot he’s always been.” Casey grinned. “Did I recite that line right?”
“As a matter of fact, you left out competitive. He can’t stand the idea that some other
hombre
might enjoy something he considers exclusively his. That cocky rooster practically crowed that he’s the only man I’ve ever wanted.”
Casey glanced at her askance. “Is he? Is that why you agreed to marry Adam after only dating him for a few months?”
Samantha simply shrugged, rather than answer her boss’s astute question.
“I’m sorry.” Casey shook her head. “I don’t believe it’s a simple case of Nick being territorial. And neither does anyone else.” She broke off a piece of crust and popped it into her mouth. “Personally, I find it kind of sexy when a man is willing to fight for his woman.”
“Well, I consider it juvenile.” Sam waved toward the sleeping children. “Those four-year-olds are better at sharing than Nick is.”
“Since you’re such a paragon of generosity,” Casey said, holding up her half of Sam’s sandwich as evidence, “why don’t you invite that centerfold wannabe from California to dinner tonight? I mean, if it wouldn’t bother you to see your ex-husband with some teenage bimbo, it seems kind of selfish not to let her have him. Especially since you’re planning to marry Adam, and you don’t want Nick for yourself.”
Sam gritted her teeth at the thought of Nick with the nineteen-year-old girl. Her only consolation was she was fairly certain he’d been telling the truth about being just friends with Bethany.
“Can I assume from your molar grinding you don’t particularly like that idea?” Casey’s lips twisted into a victorious smirk.
Andi, the other teacher’s aide, wandered over to add her two cents. “If you ask me, I think you’re still head-over-tushy in love with him.”
Yeah, well, no one asked either of them. Jenny had made the same diagnosis and also insisted Nick was crazy about her. Could all of her friends be totally wrong?
When she failed to respond, Andi picked up badgering Sam where Casey had left off. “You told me earlier you haven’t slept well since you found out your friend is sick. Seeing as your ex-husband is such a thorn in your side, wouldn’t it be nice if you could arrange for them to trade places?”
Sam stared in horror at her co-worker, picturing how devastated she would feel if Nick was terminally ill. Her momentary relief that it was Marc dying, and not the man she loved, gave way to a tidal wave of guilt.
Oh, jeez, she
did
still love Nick, didn’t she? Maybe even more than she had before she divorced him. She’d told herself he’d continued paying the mortgage to put a roof over her head, sent money for Dani’s school clothes, and bought pumpkins for the porch all for their daughter’s benefit, but that argument was beginning to sound lame, even to her.
“Oooh, I just thought of something!” Casey grabbed her arm. “Since Nick’s still wearing his wedding ring, maybe you’re still the beneficiary on his life insurance policy. If he died, you could get rid of him and solve all of your financial problems at the same time.”