Mismatched

by Chautona Havig

  “She looks so old there. I think I kept seeing her like I did when I was a kid.”

  “It’s probably very recent. I’d blame the cancer for it. That hair screams ‘wig.’” At the end of the article, tears splashed down Allison’s cheeks. “Oh, Leo. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s who she was. I wasn’t surprised.”

  “But when people face death, they often let those petty things go.”

  “Not Mom, obviously.”

  He choked on his hamburger, coughing and sputtering, trying to force it back out of his windpipe. Allison shoved water in his hands and demanded he drink. By the time he set it down, convulsing sobs took over him.

  Never—not once in any moment he could recall—had anyone pulled him into caring arms and held him, comforting him while he wept. Allison did. He fought harder than ever to regain his self-control but it was futile. His emotions took over and the raw, aching pain of loss attacked him once more.

  While her arms held him close, her hands tried to smooth his hair and rub his back like a child. What she murmured into his ear, he couldn’t hear; his sobs drowned out any hope of it.

  Long after his tears ceased, Allison held him, whispering comforting words that he now heard. Prayers. She prayed for peace, for acceptance, and for him to be able to forgive. That nearly strangled him. “She needed to forgive me, Allison. It’s too late now. I never told her.”

  “What? That you loved her? She’s a mother; she knows even if she didn’t admit it.”

  “No—about Jesus. I didn’t even try. I knew she wouldn’t want to hear it, so I didn’t make the effort.”

  She nodded. “That would be hard to know, but Leo, she rejected him without your conversion—long before that.”

  “How can you know? How can we know someone taught her?”

  “Because she was born in an era when people still had prayer in school? It isn’t like Bibles were banned. She lived in the easiest country in the world to hear about Jesus. Hey, even my parents knew about Him before I became a Christian!”

  “That’s a pretty big assumption,” Leo argued. “God died for mankind and people reject Him every day, but I couldn’t risk ten minutes to try to tell my mom.” He swallowed hard. “Why? I’ll tell you. Because rejection hurts no matter who you are, but when it’s your mom—” He swallowed hard. “I think you should go.”

  “I’m not going until you’re ok.”

  “I am ok.”

  “That’s a lie.”

  “Way to judge, Miss Wahl.”

  She laughed. Leo couldn’t believe it, but she laughed.

  “I wasn’t joking.”

  She shoved his plate at him. “Doesn’t mean it wasn’t funny.” Then, as if he hadn’t tried to make her want to leave, she put her arm back around him and put her feet back up on the table. “You’re going to think it’s funny later. Trust me.”

  At two in the morning, he walked her to her car, still hurting but with a clearer head. “Thanks, Allison.”

  She smiled at him, “Thanks for letting me in.” Allison stood on tiptoe, kissed his cheek, and lowered herself into her car. “Call me if you need to talk—no matter what the time.”

  “I will.” Leo pushed the car door shut and stepped back from it.

  Once the car turned over, the window rolled down and Allison spoke again. “Did you mean that or are you lying to me again?”

  He grinned. She was right. He had been ridiculous. “I promise if I need to talk, I’ll call. Don’t blame me if it’s two-fifteen and class isn’t over yet.” Leo watched her taillights until they turned the corner and drove out of sight.

  Chapter Seven

  “My sister said that she just totally freaked.”

  “Can you blame her,” added another of Allison’s students as they entered the classroom early Tuesday afternoon.

  “Well, I seriously doubt the guy would rob the minimart. I mean, he’s practically under house arrest here. He’d be asking to go to jail. My brother thinks he’s probably responsible for that robbery in Brant’s Corners though.”

  “Well, I hope he gets caught and sent back to wherever he’s from. Did you know he goes to my church? It’s so weird seeing him sitting across the room acting all goody-goody. It’s just not cool.”

  The first girl, Hollie, if Allison remembered correctly, waved at her before she turned back to her friend and added, “Yeah, Dad says he played the religion card to get off easy.”

  Stifling every desire to lash out at the girls, Allison reminded herself, gently, and about sixty times in rapid succession, that they were just uninformed and ignorant. She’d find a way to straighten out the teen population if nothing else. Her opportunity came faster than she planned.

  Ten minutes later, the class was embroiled in a heated debate. “Josh’s Fan Club” swore that the only reason that anyone liked First Drop’s Walter Drexel was that he had the “bad boy” appeal, while “Walter’s Fan Club” vehemently denied that a perfect gentleman such as Walter could possibly be considered a “bad boy.” She couldn’t resist pushing that envelope just a bit.

  “Ok class, what makes a ‘bad boy’ in the first place? Maybe that’s where we start.” She glanced around the room. “I don’t see anyone in here that I would ever have thought of as ‘the bad boy,’ but maybe you all know something I don’t.”

  James Li shook his head. “I think ‘bad boy’ is just a term for someone who challenges authority or is individualistic to an extent that makes him appear like a rebel.”

  “Can you tell,” Allison asked, “what makes someone attracted to either kind of man? Are guys attracted to ‘bad girls’? Are there bad girls or just bad boys?”

  Again, James interjected his opinion. “That’s why I think it’s about differences rather than true good or bad. If everyone wears green but someone else chooses red, they’re ‘bad’ because they insist on being different.”

  “I think,” Hollie Blankenship responded, addressing Allison’s question,” that most people are attracted to the ‘bad’ guy/girl thing because they’re interesting. Some people aren’t very adventuresome, and those people probably aren’t, but otherwise…”

  “Such as who? Who is not adventuresome in this class? Who in here would be bothered by the bad guy/girl in this scenario?”

  Several seconds passed by as the room exchanged curious glances. At last, Hollie shrugged. “Well, I can’t see you with the bad boy type. Weren’t you one of Adric’s ‘girl-of-the-month’ girls?”

  “Yes.” Allison chose to ignore the hoots and catcalls. “What is your point?”

  “Well…” Hollie bit her lip, visibly unsettled at the direction of the discussion.

  “I think Hollie is trying to say that she can’t see you with someone more charismatic like one of the cops or that creep that came just before Easter.”

  “Leo Hasaert?”

  “The one who works at Adric’s shop. He’s like the stereotypical bad boy. He’s more Jaedyn’s type.”

  Allison glanced over and saw the girl’s face flush. This wasn’t good. “So, you all think you know what kind of person Leo is?”

  “Yeah. He’s a guy who is on parole for drugs and murder and all kinds of junk. The guy was in one of the worst gangs in this country.” James Li seemed livid. “He got off on a plea bargain. Do you know that those biker gangs just drive into town and take over a bar? Sometimes they give you advance notice so you can make sure none of your regulars show up and get themselves killed. If the bar owner tries to stop it, sometimes they burn down the bar. And we have this guy living here. Pretty soon, the Aphrodite is going to be a haven for those jerks.”

  “A haven, James? Really?” Hollie’s eyes rolled. “You’ve been listening to your dad again.”

  “My dad is right. Chief Varney had no business bringing him here. He put the entire culture of our town at risk.”

  The mention of a police chief gave Allison the opportunity to get the class back on track. “So, as chief of police, do you thin
k he’d have tried to prevent Walter Drexel from living in Sandy if he’d known what kind of man—or non-man—he was?”

  Tentatively, Allison knocked on the chief’s office door. She glanced back at Chad as if for reassurance that the head of Fairbury’s police force wouldn’t rip off her head, before peeking her head around the doorjamb. “Are you sure you aren’t busy?”

  “Got all the time in the world. What can I do you for?”

  Internally, Allison winced. Those little nuances of speech gave away the hick heritage the Chief usually worked so hard to hide. “I just had an idea, and I wanted to run it by you before I moved forward with it.”

  The Chief, always a gentleman, stood and came around his desk, offering his hand and pulling out a chair for her. “Well, you just sit down and tell me what it is. I can’t remember your name, but I know you are one of Adric’s girls.”

  The title had become wearisome before her month had been up. Even now, no matter where she went in Fairbury, that’s what everyone thought of—one of Adric’s girls. It made her furious inside, but her usual calm demeanor appeared unruffled. “I’m sorry, yes. I’m Allison Wahl—April.”

  “Right. You’re the one we all thought he’d pick. Why’d you turn him down, anyway?”

  That assumption usually irritated her even more. “I didn’t, Mr. Varney. He chose Jael, remember?” Her fingernails bit into the palms of her hands as she worked to steady her nerves.

  “So, what brings you here?”

  “Well, we had a discussion in my classroom today. I’m teaching Macy Felspan’s literature class, and we kind of got off topic today.” When the chief didn’t ask her to elaborate, Allison decided to plunge ahead anyway. “You see, I was supposed to compare the vampires in Count Dracula to the ones in the modern books, and the topic of ‘bad boy’ appeal came up.”

  The light of understanding flickered on in the police chief’s eyes. “And you thought of Leo.”

  “He came up, yes. I heard a couple of the girls talking about him before class too. The kids in town see him as either something with mystique or a pariah. One girl’s father said that he ‘played the religion card to get off easy.’”

  “There’s nothing we can do about it, missy. There’s just no way to get people to accept him without him earning it. Sometimes I wonder if it was such a good thing to bring him here, but at least here I think he’s safe.”

  “Well, I was thinking that maybe we could have him speak at an assembly at the high school. We’d invite the parents too so no one accuses him of anything inappropriate, but I thought maybe if people could hear his story, ask him questions, listen to what got him into a gang like that, maybe they’d see who he is now and how easy it is for kids to get off on the wrong track.”

  “Couldn’t hurt,” Varney agreed. “Could count towards his community service hours too.” The man sat, his hands twiddling a pen for several seconds, and then he looked up at her. “No school or town newspaper articles. Nothing that could hit the web.”

  “We could make an announcement—”

  “No. That’d mean someone would do it. Just no ‘official’ paper stuff. Say I said to take it up with me. I’ll handle it.”

  “So I can ask him?”

  “Go for it. Tell him I said I won’t make him do it but that I strongly urge him to. I think it’s time to shake up some of these people.”

  Excited about the new plan, Allison glanced at her watch and then rushed for her car. She ignored Chad’s warning that excess speed would get her a ticket, and sped along the side streets to Adric’s shop. The men were all finishing up their day’s work, and Wade waved as she entered. “Hey guys, it’s Allison—the one who escaped before she got tied down to this lug.”

  Leo glanced up and Allison couldn’t help being thrilled to see the look on his face as his eyes met hers. He was happy to see her. “I think Adric has been a little too chivalrous if he told you guys that. Remember, he picked Jael, and it was the best decision too—even if I did miss out on a great guy.”

  Ready to head home, Adric tossed Leo the keys to the shop. “Don’t forget to lock up.” He glanced at the other men. “Get out. You’re done for the day. Leo, you can’t work on that thing tonight anyway, so go. Go have a decent dinner for once. I’ll pay. Mechanic cannot live on soup cups alone.”

  “Sorry, Adric. I’ve got dibs on him tonight; he just doesn’t know it yet.” Allison grinned and made a show of tapping her feet.

  Wiping his hands on a rag, Leo ignored the mumbles of Wade and Tyler and strolled out to meet her. “What’s up?”

  “I’ve got a proposition for you.”

  Catcalls followed him, but Leo rolled his eyes and tried to ignore it. “That sounds intriguing.”

  “I wish it was as intriguing as it sounds.” Leo couldn’t know it, of course, but Allison didn’t get much more overtly flirtatious. “Come on. Let’s go and I’ll explain.”

  Leo tossed the keys back to Adric and followed Allison to her car. They reached the passenger door from opposite directions and at the same time. The man clearly had expected to ride, but Allison waited until he opened the door and then slipped into the front seat. “Thank you, Leo.”

  A block passed as Leo drove away from the garage. Two. “Where are we going?”

  “Let’s go to the market and get stuff for dinner. I’ll fix something for you—or we could go to my house.”

  “Mine is closer and with the price of gas, you shouldn’t have to drive back and forth.” As he pulled up in front of the store, Leo turned to her. “I should tell you, I didn’t open the door out of courtesy. I just didn’t expect to drive.”

  Allison crawled from the car and waited for his eyes to meet hers. “I know, but you were a gentleman anyway.”

  “Was not.” A saucy glint in Leo’s eye made her smile.

  Her hand squeezed his arm. “How are you doing today?”

  “Better… thanks to you.” Leo paused outside the door, opening it for a woman carrying two canvas bags of groceries. “I was a jerk, Allison. Thanks for sticking with me.”

  “It’s called grief, Leo. It’s ok.”

  “It’s not ok, but I’m glad you’re ok with it.”

  “Steaks?”

  He shrugged as they entered the store. “If Adric’s buyin’…”

  As they wandered through the store gathering the “necessities” that Allison sought, she felt rather than saw his alarm grow. Steaks, coarse pepper, garlic powder, onion powder, lettuce, tomatoes, celery, cucumbers… the list grew as she walked through each aisle. “What do you think about strawberry shortcake for dessert? There were some good ones over in produce.”

  “Sounds good.” Leo glanced toward the front of the store. “Can you get them while I run get something? I’ll be right back.”

  By the time Allison loaded her purchases at the checkout stand, Leo returned with a small handful of daisies. He helped bag the groceries and pulled a wad of cash from his pocket, but Allison waved him off. “I’m going to hold Adric to paying for dinner. He can deduct it from my repair bill.”

  “I bet he didn’t expect to stock my kitchen in the process.”

  “If we went to Marcello’s, it would cost the same amount and you’ll get more bang for his buck this way,” she argued.

  It seemed crazy to drive the three doors down from the store, so with each carrying bags, they walked to the building, climbed the stairs, and stumbled into the apartment. “Sorry it’s so warm in here. I’ll get the windows open.”

  “You can leave them open during the day, you know. This is Fairbury, not Rockland.”

  “Habit, I guess.” As she pulled items from the bags, Leo grabbed an empty jar, filled it with water, and shoved the daisies in it. Carrying it to the coffee table, he asked, “What do I do first?”

  “Take a shower.”

  A frown appeared as he glanced at his hands and arms. “I guess I am dirty—”

  “I don’t know…” She glanced at him. “You seem remarkably c
lean for someone who spent the day working on cars, but it’s hard work and a shower always makes me feel better when I get home. You shower. I’ll get the steaks going.”

  At first, Leo took her words as an exaggeration at best. Remarkably clean… Yeah, right. However, the mirror proved her assertions correct. His clothes didn’t have the usual grease and grime on his knees and around his waist, and he had managed to wipe the oil from his hands before it stained them.

  Though he usually enjoyed the luxury—his only real luxury—of a long hot shower, this time, Leo didn’t linger. He hurried through his nightly routine, putting on jeans and a t-shirt instead of his running clothes, and brushed his hair, spiking the top in his usual manner. The spider web tattoo mocked him. It had seemed so cool at the time; now it disgusted him. “Ok, Lord. I don’t know what she wants, but if she could just not ruin that steak, I’d do about anything. It smells amazing.”

  Allison’s eyes met his from across the tiny room. “Can you run over to the market and grab some salad dressing? I forgot it.”

  “What kind?”

  “I like Red Pepper and Parmesan but whatever you want is good. Just not French. I can’t stand French.”

  “French it is.”

  Something about Allison brought out the dry humor he’d learned to keep to himself during his years with the Kasimirs. Perhaps it was a defense mechanism, designed to keep him from letting his guard down. Whatever the cause, Leo both liked and feared it. Rediscovering a part of himself that he’d lost intrigued him but also opened new questions about who he would become.

  He stared at the bottle of salad dressing in his hand as he waited for the woman in front of him to finish paying for her purchases. Just as he stepped forward to hand the cashier his bottle, he saw a five-dollar bill on the ground. “Um, ma’am? Did you drop this?”

  The woman glanced at the bill in his hand. “I—I don’t think so.”

  “I’m pretty sure it wasn’t there when I got in line.” He hated the confrontation. He could have ignored it—left it for someone else to find and for their conscience, but it seemed wrong not to try.