Hearts on Hold

by Charish Reid

  “First, could you tell everyone what your rabbit’s name is?”

  “Her name is Coco.”

  John nodded, thoroughly impressed. “Boys and girls, I forgot to tell you how important and magical rabbits are.”

  A murmur ran through the group and Katie’s eyes widened into two shiny blue orbs. “They are?”

  He glanced down at her with a sage expression. “Oh yeah. You see, bunnies are so quiet you wouldn’t know how magical they are. They don’t bark and they don’t meow, because they’re trying to find new ways to cast spells.”

  “What kind of spells?” Katie asked in a hushed voice.

  “They have the power to run really fast. Does your Coco run fast?”

  She nodded her head. “She does!”

  “That’s what I thought. Is she a really good hider?”

  “Yes!”

  A woman who sat near Victoria chuckled quietly. Her own blonde curls were pulled back into a ponytail and her blue eyes crinkled with a warm smile. She turned to Victoria and whispered, “She never talks like this.”

  Victoria shared her smile. “She must really love her bunny.”

  “Last year, we got Coco for Katie’s anxiety,” the woman explained. “I think it’s been working for her self-esteem.”

  Victoria nodded as she felt her heart bloom. When she glanced back at John and the girl, she couldn’t stop grinning at the two of them.

  “Now, Katie, do you take good care of Coco?”

  “I do.”

  “Does everyone want to know how you’re supposed to take care of a magic bunny?”

  Hands shot up following a chorus of “I do, I do.” John nudged Katie. “Go ahead, Katie.”

  The little girl sat up straight and addressed the group of children with her expert opinion. “You have to change their water every day and give them fresh hay to eat.”

  John nodded. “It’s probably magic grass, huh?”

  “Yeah, and you have to give them vegetables too. And I help Mommy change out her litter box so it doesn’t stink.”

  “Do you give Coco carrots?” another little girl asked.

  “Sometimes, but Mommy says that carrots are really sweet and you can’t give too many.”

  Ooohs and ahhhs ran through the group as Katie educated them. Victoria glanced over at Katie’s mother, who was quietly wiping her eyes and trying to busy herself. The pride she had for her daughter’s effort spread to the other mothers who watched with affection.

  “Okay, you little ghosts and goblins, Halloween is coming soon and I need you to keep an eye out for the witches in your neighborhood,” John said as he set Katie down. She returned to the floor beside his leg. “They’re very nice folks.”

  “But don’t they turn you into toads?” asked the squirmy boy who had managed to end up near the other side of the room.

  “Oh no, nothing like that. Those are just rumors for us regular humans. No, witches help out with their chores, they take care of animals, they share with their friends, and they go to bed on time.” He paused to furrow his brow at the children. “Wait a minute...”

  The kids looked among themselves with sneaky grins. The realization was dawning on them.

  “I think we’ve got a group of young witches here!” John cried. “How did I not see it before?”

  The kids squealed with excited laughter as he stood up and placed his books on a nearby shelf.

  “I can’t wait to see what kind of magic you come up with,” he told them. “But for now, it’s time for you to go home.”

  “One more book, Mr. John,” cried a voice from the group.

  He shook his head. “Nope, I can only read you two books tonight. You all have to eat dinner and go to bed soon.”

  Eventually the crowd dispersed as mothers gathered coats and their own children. Victoria stood and made her way to John. “You had me a little nervous there,” she said.

  John peered down at her with a grin. “Oh?”

  “Your taxonomy of witches had me on the edge of my seat.”

  “A little Halloween magic can’t be bad. They’re at the age where everything is still mysterious.”

  Katie’s mother approached them while her daughter explained the details of Coco’s magic to a small crowd of children. “Mr. John,” she started. “Thank you for what you did this evening.”

  John’s face softened. “Of course, how long has Katie dealt with anxiety issues?”

  The mother nodded. “For the past two years. We’ve taken her to a pediatrician who specializes in ADD and anxiety, and we’re working on a plan to help her.”

  “I’m assuming Coco is a big help?”

  “A tremendous help,” she said. “It’s interesting how powerful one anxious bunny can feel when she’s taking care of another. You telling her that Coco is magical might rub off on her as well.” She glanced over her shoulder at her daughter, who was still holding court. “Before, she would never have asked you that question. And she certainly wouldn’t be talking to the other children like that.”

  Victoria found herself grinning at the girl. “She’s quite the authority on rabbits. She looks like she has the makings of a professor.”

  “I know.” The mother chuckled. “It’s wonderful to see her shining.”

  “Send me an email and I can suggest some helpful books for you and Katie,” John said, offering a business card from his wallet. “I have experience with this and I can relay some tricks I’ve used.”

  “That would be wonderful,” Katie’s mother said, taking the card. “Thank you for being understanding.”

  “It’s no problem.”

  “Now I’ve got to pry my child from her adoring fans.” She laughed.

  When the woman wandered off to collect her daughter, Victoria turned to John. “When we first met, you said you had a hard time staying on subject. Did you mean that you have ADD?”

  His green eyes smiled. “In that situation, I had a difficult time keeping my mind on business. It wasn’t my ADD though.”

  She averted her eyes to make sure they were out of earshot of the children. “Right. I didn’t realize,” she said, suddenly remembering how she teased him about his messy desk. “I’m sorry.”

  “Why are you sorry?”

  Victoria flinched, immediately feeling awkward and foolish. “I didn’t mean sorry sorry. Like it’s a pity you have ADD or anything like that. I have plenty of students who need accommodations and they perform just as well as my other students.” As her face warmed, Victoria realized she was rambling like an idiot. “Jeez, if you don’t want to talk about it, you certainly don’t have to.”

  John gave a good-natured chuckle as he led her downstairs. “I don’t mind talking about it. It’s not something I’m ashamed of.”

  “Of course not,” she said, quickly. “Do you mind me asking, how long have you known you...had it?” From behind him, she cringed at her inability to find a better way to ask.

  “I’m pretty sure I’ve had it since I was a kid, my mother did the best she could to come up with ways to help me concentrate. But I wasn’t formally diagnosed until I got to graduate school.”

  As impressive as that was, Victoria did feel for a student who struggled without the right tools. She wondered if she had students in her own class who needed help but didn’t know how to ask for it. As they made their way back downstairs, she asked, “When you realized what it was, did it upset you? Or was it a relief?”

  When they entered his office, John shut the door behind him. “A bit of both. I had a concrete answer for what was different about me and that made me feel better. On the other hand, I realized I’d have to work harder than most to complete the same tasks.”

  Victoria didn’t want to say something patronizing like “well good for you!” but the teacher in her was accustomed to giving people encouraging ov
ertures. She didn’t need to do that with John. He was a man, not one of the students. He was self-possessed and had a swagger that showed. Contrary to what she believed upon meeting him, he knew how to do his job. She’d seen that firsthand. “A person can go a whole lifetime without making those kinds of observations about themselves,” she said.

  The corner of his lips quirked into a small grin. “Is that a fact?”

  She leaned against the edge of his desk and watched him stuff his hands into his jeans. He was wearing another Henley shirt, this one gray and just as tight fitting as the last. The atmosphere in his small office shifted. An electric current ran between them as she tried to hold herself together. “Oh yes. You seem to know yourself really well.”

  John shrugged his broad shoulders. “It’s all trial and error, Dr. Reese.”

  He also had the ability to make Victoria forget everything with every unsteady breath she took. When he said he would employ other methods on her, did they involve a piercing green gaze that made her knees shake and skin heat? In an effort to stay on topic, she replied, “Well, I have to say that the work you do with children is admirable, Mr. Donovan. I’m confident that my students are going to learn a lot from you.”

  He stepped away from the door and crossed the room in two easy strides. “I don’t want to talk about the children, Dr. Reese.”

  His quick movements caught her unprepared with the crushing kiss he issued. As his lips pressed against hers, she gave a surprised moan. John’s tongue ran along the seam of her mouth and eased past her lips, licking as he went. Victoria’s hands instinctively went for his head, shoving her fingers through his loosely tied hair. Sliding his arms around her waist, he pulled her close into his body. She closed her eyes and tilted her head against his insistent tongue, losing herself like a sail boat in his wild seas.

  When he broke away, he gazed down at her through hooded eyes, panting from the exertion. “I’m sorry that wasn’t scheduled.”

  Victoria reached upward and touched her swollen lips. “No, it wasn’t,” she murmured. She wouldn’t complain though. It was a kiss that knocked the wind out of her and left her dizzy. She was satisfied with her original idea of hammering out the details, but she certainly didn’t mind this either. Before she could ask for more, he broke the spell.

  John ran his fingers along her spine and smiled. “I’m afraid I have to get home and relieve my friend of his babysitting duties.”

  “Of course.” She stood straight and took a breath. “How is Becca?”

  He moved away from her and began gathering papers from his desk. “Oh, she’ll live. The poor girl had a period meltdown the other day.”

  Victoria hissed. “Oh no. Stain on the back of the pants?”

  He chuckled as he packed his bag. “How did you guess?”

  “It’s happened to all of us.”

  John led her from his office and turned out the light. “God knows I wouldn’t go back to that age for anything. How did we manage it?”

  “You talk like a man who thinks the stress is long over. It gets worse,” she said. “I mean, don’t tell her that.”

  John’s faced creased with a wide grin before he laughed. “I won’t. But I need to convince you that there are blessings that come with our age.”

  “Mmh.”

  “I’ll go over our schedule tonight.”

  “You will?” she asked as she followed him to the library entrance.

  “I will,” he said. “And by the week’s end, I’ll convince you that you don’t need it.”

  “Order, Mr. Donovan. We need order in our lives.”

  She caught the grin he tried to hide as he opened the door for her. In the nearly empty parking lot, he turned to face her. “You have enough order in your life. I’m here to bring a little disorder. I think you’ll prefer that much more.”

  He was challenging her and she didn’t know how to respond. She simply liked feeling in control. Time management was the security blanket that ensured she wouldn’t be swept away by her feelings. Whenever she looked into John’s eyes, she knew there was a danger in getting lost in his chaos.

  In her undergraduate days, she’d had a devastating crush on a classmate in her Creative Writing class. As she had fallen in love with Phil, her grades had taken a dive as well. She had volunteered to read his short stories and offer him critiques, while she wrote saccharine-sweet poetry about him. After they broke up, it had taken everything in her power to get back in the game and save her final exam grades. The problem was that she hadn’t had a plan back then, but she had one now. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Donovan.”

  He nodded. “When we kissed in the History section, you called me Johnny. Do you remember that?”

  She shook her head even though she did. It was a slip-up she wanted to avoid speaking about altogether.

  “Well you did,” he said, backing away from her. As he walked to his pickup truck, he called over his shoulder. “I wouldn’t mind hearing it more during our scheduled meetups.”

  Dang it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  By 12:30, Victoria had already taught two classes, shoved the last student conference out the door, and had quickly checked in with the writing center workers. As usual, she was productive and anxious. Today, the source of her anxiety was not work-related, but John-related. Last night, she had been bold enough to send him an email, detailing where to meet and how much time they had. It had taken her nearly an hour to pen a paragraph-long message, that basically said: “I’ll be waiting in my office, come get me.” The thrill of clicking send was enough to make her giggle in her home office. If she only had one week to have her version of a sordid affair, Victoria wanted to get started. She now sat behind her desk wondering what to do with herself. When her phone buzzed, she swiftly grabbed for it. It was a text from John.

  Mr. Donovan: What’s the naughtiest thing you’ve ever done?

  Okay, we’re starting. Victoria settled in her chair and thought of interesting things to reply. She enjoyed writing, but she didn’t know that she’d also be a fan of sexting. She was ready to engage.

  Victoria: Let’s see... ALLEGEDLY stealing a library book.

  She waited for a moment, a smile playing on her lips.

  Mr. Donovan: I wouldn’t put it past you, Dr. R. When the Duke was in your possession, did you at least treat him right?

  Victoria: I may have dog-eared a few pages.

  Mr. Donovan: My god, you’re a monster. Could I make you an offer?

  Victoria: Go ahead.

  Mr. Donovan: In the future, could I slip my bookmark between your pages?

  Victoria: That doesn’t sound quite as naughty.

  Mr. Donovan: You haven’t used my bookmark. It’s big enough to take care of any book.

  Victoria paused to take a breath as she tried to figure out her next witty response. Her phone vibrated again. Paula was calling her. She groaned and answered. “What?”

  “Damn, girl. What did I do?”

  She sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m actually in the middle of something.”

  “A meeting?”

  “Not exactly,” Victoria hesitated. “I’m texting someone.”

  “Reggi and I are downtown about to grab some lunch. I was going to ask if you wanted to join, but apparently you’re texting someone?”

  “Is it the librarian?” Reggi’s voice asked in the background. Victoria rolled her eyes.

  “Reggi wants to know if you’re too busy with the librarian to have lunch with your friends.”

  “Yes,” she admitted. “I’m in the middle of sexting with him and you guys are seriously interrupting my response time.”

  “Oh shit!” Reggi said.

  Paula lowered her voice. “Do you need any help? I write romance for a living, you know?”

  That doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Victoria pushed
aside the thought. “I’m going to have to let you guys go.”

  “Report back to us,” Reggi shouted.

  “Maybe,” Victoria said as she hung up. When she returned to John, she hadn’t come up with anything witty so she typed the next best thing.

  Victoria: Do you have condoms?

  When the three dots lit up her screen, and then disappeared, Victoria closed her eyes and cursed her bluntness. Asking about condoms, though prudent, was not sexy and didn’t belong in a sexting exchange.

  Three dots reappeared.

  Mr. Donovan: No. But that’s not what I had in mind. Do you read poetry, Dr. R?

  Victoria frowned and bit her thumbnail. Poetry?

  Victoria: Of course...

  Mr. Donovan: Do you like Eliot?

  Victoria: I think The Waste Land is a bit overrated.

  Mr. Donovan: Perhaps. I was thinking of The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

  Victoria: ??

  Mr. Donovan: “Do I dare to eat a peach?”

  Victoria, growing dizzy, released the breath she held. John was simply too clever for her to keep up with. He was going to arrive at her office any moment and she already found herself sweating over him. She waggled the collar of her shirt in an attempt to get air to her armpits.

  “A man has never quoted Modernist poetry to me,” she whispered to her empty office.

  Good lord, what was she going to do with him? Better yet, what was he planning to do with her? Based on that text message, she had an idea. Eliot may have been writing about the malaise and hopelessness of World War I, but John Donovan was referring to a totally different peach.

  Before she had too much longer to think about it, a commanding knock at her door made her jump in her chair. She glanced at her watch, saw he was fifteen minutes early, and grinned.

  “Come in,” she called out.

  John stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Time slowed down soon after that. Victoria was suddenly conscious of her own breathing, the grooves in the leather armrests, and her trembling fingers. John leaned against the door and quietly regarded her before speaking. She was pinned beneath his intense stare, unable to open her mouth for a simple greeting. He came dressed different from what she was used to. He wore dark gray slacks and a black button-down shirt with the collar undone by two buttons. Hooked on his arm was a camelhair coat. He was handsome in his jeans and tight-fitting Henley shirt, but this new Sophisticated John took her breath away. As he folded his arms across his chest, a broad smile stretched over his face. “Dr. Reese.”