Wood U (Carved Hearts #4)

by L. G. Pace III

  I cringed at his name. “I didn’t tell him.”

  Jerry rolled her eyes. “What the hell?”

  “I just walked out and left him at my place.”

  “Wait? Mac was there? When I sent this pic? This morning?” Jerry squealed, dissolving into girlish giggles. “Yay! How was it? Tell me everything!”

  “I’m an idiot.” I felt my eyes sting, but I fought the tears. “I was shitty with him. I told him I had to go and he needed to leave.”

  “Kelly! Why?” She stared at me in total disbelief.

  “I figured if we weren’t together, this would just blow over. I’ve never been mixed up in any trouble at work. I’m new here, and I don’t need that kind of reputation.” I flopped back on the couch and covered my face with a pillow. “We weren’t going to work out anyway.”

  “That bad, huh?” Jerry patted my hand sympathetically. “That sucks! He looked like he’d know exactly what to do with a woman. What a waste!”

  “No, no. It was phenomenal.” I exhaled, recalling how amazing it felt when he kissed me and to be curled up next to him, let alone everything in-between.

  “Then you need to call him, girl.” She squared her shoulders. “Like, today.”

  “I’ll wait to see what Higgins says before I do anything,” I replied. I was so run down that I just wanted a nap.

  Monday came, and I discovered Principal Higgins had taken a vacation day. Instead of getting any resolution, I got sly looks from everyone, and teachers stopped their conversations every time I approached. Jerry said that Instagram took down the post, but even so, I avoided the office entirely, for fear of what I’d say to Paula when I saw her.

  By the time Tuesday came around, I had no choice but to go to the office. I needed to check my mail and to make copies for my class. I started to have second thoughts about bringing the whole thing up. I’d have to show Higgins the screenshot to implicate Paula, and it wasn’t exactly flattering to me.

  While I was hovering between the teachers’ lounge and Principal Higgins’s office, I heard a ruckus coming from the teacher’s lounge.

  “She’s classless,” someone said in hushed tones. My heart sank. “That kind of behavior is completely unacceptable.” Footsteps were coming toward me, and I ducked into Principal Higgin’s office. I had no desire to see whoever it was that was talking about me. Principal Higgins came in a moment later. Her face reflected surprise that quickly turned to determination. I steeled myself for what was to come.

  Is she just going to fire me? God, what if I can’t find another job? Maybe Molly will give me a job on one of her food trucks.

  Principal Higgins closed the door, flicking the lock, before sitting behind her desk. She sat silently for a moment before speaking.

  “First, Miss Palmer, I want you to understand that this kind of thing is completely unacceptable. In all my years as a principal, this is the very first time something of this nature has occurred. Accordingly, though the infraction is serious, I believe it should be approached as a teachable moment.”

  I felt a moment of hope at her tone, but then the walls of reality crashed down upon me.

  How can I stay and effectively teach? I’ll always be looked at as ‘the teacher who was all over the internet. Just having me around will keep the story going, and it will be impossible for me to get anyone to take me seriously. The best I can hope for is that she’ll still give me a recommendation so that I can move back to Michigan.

  “I will completely understand,” Principal Higgins said quietly, “if you choose to take civil action against her for what she’s done. I cannot imagine what she was thinking to do something so crass.”

  Mentally, I lurched, not really understanding the direction the conversation had just turned. This was supposed to be about my poor judgement in dating a parent. Luckily, Principal Higgins kept talking, oblivious to my confusion.

  “Paula and I have had a long conversation about the proper use of social media and what it means to create a ‘hostile work environment’ for a co-worker.”

  “But I thought…” I broke off, unable to finish the thought.

  Principal Higgins’s concerned look had a touch of wariness to it. “What is it?”

  I swallowed, deciding it was time to get it all out in the open.

  “I thought I’d be in trouble. For dating a parent.” Principal Higgins gave a surprised little laugh.

  “Heavens no! It’s no one’s business whom you date. Certainly not Paula’s. And why would we care? He isn’t married, you aren’t married; you’re consenting adults.” My face felt hot, and I pushed through my embarrassment to speak.

  “Then what does she get out of posting something like that online? If she wasn’t trying to get me fired, what exactly was she trying to do?”

  “Kelly,” Principal Higgins said quietly, “you need to understand this. Let me be perfectly clear. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you seeing Mr. Hildebrandt. No one at this school, myself included, has any place to tell you what to do in your private life.”

  Turning the situation around in my head I saw things from her point of view. One of her teachers was in her office, embarrassed publicly by a co-worker. She wasn’t here to fire me; she was trying to keep a lid on a potentially explosive situation.

  “So what happens now?” I kept my voice surprisingly calm, even though in my head I was slapping the mascara off Paula’s ugly face.

  “Paula is on unpaid leave for the rest of the week. Depending on her behavior, she’ll be allowed to return to her position next week.” I felt a vindictive thrill at the news. Principal Higgins leaned in toward me, even though we were in the office alone. “I never told you that, as it would be against our HR policy to talk to another employee about disciplinary actions. So let’s just keep that between us.” I gave her a tight grin and nodded.

  “Didn’t hear a thing. What about me?”

  “You? Go back to your classroom and wrap things up. But on a personal note?”

  I nodded, tilting my head curiously. “Mac Hildebrandt seems like a fine man. He’s always respectful and he’s an attentive parent. You don’t need to be embarrassed about being seen out and about with him. It’s not like you have to scrounge up your cousin to take you to a wedding.”

  I laughed at the dig and felt my embarrassment melting away. She was right. I didn’t have a damn thing to be ashamed about. I walked out of her office with my head held high, zipping into the teachers’ lounge to grab a cup of coffee. Tina Polson (second grade) was sitting at the table with Jane Masters (third grade). As I came in, I nodded at them; they both gave me huge grins, and the warmth I felt radiating off of them was like an electric blanket on a frigid January night.

  “Hey there, girl,” Jane said, fluffing her short blonde hair with her hand. “We hear you had a good weekend.” There was nothing mean-spirited in her words, and I found myself grinning along with them.

  “Parts of it were a lot better than others,” I responded, blushing. Tina looked back down the hall, as if checking that no one was coming, then made a rude noise.

  “That bitch needs to stay out of other people’s business. This isn’t the first time she’s run her damn mouth and caused unnecessary drama. I hope she mouths off to Higgins and gets her ass fired this time around.”

  “Tina!” Jane sounded scandalized. “Someone might hear you.”

  “Well,” Tina’s sarcastic tone was as loud as before, “the precedent seems to have been set that you can say whatever you want about whomever you want without repercussions. Besides, I was smart enough to make sure no one was coming.”

  Jane turned back to me. “You seeing Mac is a good thing. God knows that man is a catch. Paula’s just jealous because she has been throwing herself at him since M.J. started kindergarten, and he just keeps dodging.”

  Tina cackled at Jane’s slam and then covered her mouth with her hand. Tears welled in the corner of her eye as Jane mimed leaping at someone and then mimed leaping back out of the way
. I started giggling and that set Jane off as well. The mental picture of Paula trying to stage dive at Mac and having him step back out of the way was priceless. I collapsed into one of the chairs as I fought to get my breath back.

  We sat for a while drinking coffee and talking, until the bell rang. Their attitude and my discussion with Principal Higgins gave me the strength I needed to face the rest of the teachers the following morning.

  Within ten minutes of the first bell rang on Wednesday, I realized I had nothing to worry about. A few of the older teachers seemed a bit more distant, but I guess that was to be expected in The Bible Belt. Most of the rest didn’t seem to care at all.

  Paula’s suspension was probably a good thing. I don’t think I would have trusted myself in a room with her. By the time school let out, I was starting to breathe a sigh of relief. The building was quiet; most people had taken off the moment the kids were out the door. So I was startled when Jane came storming into my classroom, with Tina trailing after her.

  “That woman is impossible!” Jane was saying to Tina. For a moment I thought they were talking about Paula. “I have dealt with a lot of difficult parents, but she’s the worst. Telling me that her kid is falling asleep in my class because I’m a boring teacher? The kid is seven! The only reason he would be falling asleep in class is because he isn’t getting the rest he needs at night.”

  “What’s going on?” I asked as Tina sat down on the edge of my desk. Jane, who’d been pacing during her tirade, stood with one hand on her hip. I saw Jerry peek her head in the door and then hurry in.

  “Mac Junior keeps falling asleep in class. Like twice a week every other week. So, I took a minute to talk to his mother about it after school. You know, just a quick heads up so that she knows what’s going on. Instead of showing an ounce of concern, she starts yelling at me. Telling me I’m a horrible teacher, that if I weren’t so boring he’d be top of the class, and that I need to mind my own business. Her breath reeked like she’d been at the bar. I followed her outside to make sure she wasn’t driving. Luckily for her, some old, gnarly looking guy was behind the wheel. Poor M.J.! He was so embarrassed. She yelled at me in front of half of the school during pick up. I don’t know what is going on with that woman, but it’s her child who’s suffering. He’s such a bright kid. His grades are down, and his hygiene has been horrible half the time. I hate to ask this, but maybe you should mention it to his dad. His mom certainly doesn’t seem to care.”

  I debated about getting involved for a couple of days. In the end, I knew Mac needed to hear about it, and I wanted it to come from a friendly face. So I called him Friday evening, intending to ask him to come over to talk. Somehow Mac maneuvered us into our usual sexual sparring, only this time our banter had no playful edge.

  Then he hung up on me.

  Hurt and frustrated, I washed my makeup off and got ready for bed.

  He surprised me by showing up a little while later; his eyes were wild with lust. I tried to keep my focus on what I needed to say, but the lecherous curl of his lips was far too distracting. We launched into a physical frenzy, and his skilled and gifted tongue scrambled my thoughts until I could barely remember my own name, let alone why I’d asked him over.

  Afterwards, I was still trying to catch my breath when he walked out on me. Tossing my own words back in my direction, he landed a palpable blow. The difference was that I totally deserved the treatment, when he’d done nothing to be dissed so badly by me. I lost a lot of sleep that night, replaying the undercurrent of hurt beneath his parting shot.

  The next morning, I rustled up my big girl panties and drove over to his house. I’d called Molly for his address, and she hadn’t even asked for an explanation when I requested it. Her sleep deprivation had really worked in my favor, considering she typically would have pried something out of me about the situation.

  “By the way…” she said, conspiratorially, “What do you pay for your apartment?”

  I wrinkled my brow at the unexpected question, but I told her, and she followed up with “Do you have a lease?”

  I explained that my lease had been a six-month lease, but I was now month to month. “Why?”

  “Joe’s looking for someone to live in our old apartment,” she replied. My heart sank. I’d been saving for a new car, and I was very frugal about money for obvious reasons. There was no way I could afford a two bedroom, especially in such a great location. I pictured lounging on their rooftop pergola, and pouted.

  “I wish. It’s so cute, but there is no way that I can swing that.”

  “I happen to know the landlord,” Molly said, “and he’s a pushover. Joe just wants someone he can trust to not destroy the place or burn his shop down. I bet I can get him to match what you’re paying now. In a way, you’d be doing us a big favor. Giving us a tenant that we can trust and just think how much more space you’d have!”

  “Stop it, Molly! You’re getting my hopes up,” I said. “Y’all just let me know.”

  After I’d hung up, I realized with amusement that I’d just used “y’all” for the first time.

  When I pulled up in front of Mac’s, I had to check my GPS to make sure I had the right place. Then I spotted Mac’s truck parked under the carport and his bike parked out front, so I knew it was. He owned a little grey bungalow with black shutters, shaded by a mature pecan tree. He had a nice-sized side yard with a covered patio, all enclosed behind a white picket fence.

  White picket? Seriously, Mac?

  The porch had a matching white swing, and the bushes surrounding it were well manicured. I remembered what Robin said about the Hildebrandts and their hyperactive ways, and I shook my head.

  I approached the porch nervously, my eyes taking in every detail. It was odd to have known Mac for as long as I had, and as well as I did (biblically speaking), and to have never been to his place. I felt weird, showing up uninvited. I paused on the top step, admiring the white washed wood of the rebuilt porch and the arts and crafts style window sills.

  What if he doesn’t answer when he sees it’s me? What if he slams the door in my face?

  Rallying my last shred of determination, I forced myself to stand up straight and deal with whatever reception I’d earned.

  I wasn’t expecting to see a little boy when the door opened. My eyes swooped downward to his, and I was stunned to realize I was face to waist with Mac Junior.

  I’d seen him around school, and how I’d ever missed the resemblance was beyond me. The child on the other side of the screen door was a short, beardless Mac with freckles and a missing tooth in the front. I’d spoken to him a couple of times at recess and knew he was a real character.

  “Whoa,” he said, and his eyes shot instantly to my boobs.

  Yep. It’s Mini Mac. He’s not just his son. He’s Mac’s clone.

  “Who’s at the door, M.J.?” I heard Mac’s deep voice as he approached, and braced myself.

  “Miss Palmer…” Junior replied, finally finding my face. “Am I in trouble or something?”

  Mac appeared behind his son and pushed the door open a little wider, his expression shifting from predator to prey, and then back to neutral.

  “Hi.” I sounded like a goofy, breathless moron.

  “Well, don’t just stand there, Kid. Invite the lady in.” Mac said. His resting amused face was now firmly in place, but his twinkling eyes gave him away. He was pleased to see me.

  Junior just kept blinking at me as if I were about to pull a gun on him, so Mac gently guided him out of the way by his head, and pushed open the screen door. He waited, and I hurried inside, my arm brushing against his as I entered.

  The inside of his home was just as charming. Neat, well-kept woodwork with the classic built-ins and craftsman-style lines. It was surprisingly clean, more so than my own place. The decor was vintage man-cave, overstuffed leather furniture and a giant TV with game consoles. Beyond, where most people would have had a dining room table, Mac had a pool table. Cowboys paraphernalia littered th
e walls as far as the eye could see.

  “So.” Mac said, drawing my attention back where it belonged. His hands were in his pockets, and he was watching me expectantly.

  “Miss Palmer, are you here because I threw dirt at Jackson?” Junior asked, and for a minute he looked like he might make a break for it. I smiled at him and hunkered down so I wasn’t looming over him.

  “I’m not here for the school, M.J.” I said, hoping I wasn’t overstepping by using his nickname. “I’m here because I’m friends with your dad. Do you know Francis?”

  “From dad’s work?” His brow furrowed, as if it was the last thing he’d expected me to ask.

  “Yep.” I said enthusiastically. “He’s my dad.”

  “Really?” He looked to Mac for conformation, and he nodded. I noticed Junior’s hair was wet, like he’d just had a bath. I had no doubt based on the appearance of Mac’s house that he made sure his son had regular showers.

  “It’s true. So when we’re not at school, you can call me Kelly. If you want to.”

  “Cool!” Junior’s huge smile was infectious.

  “Miss Kelly.” Mac corrected. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at the unnecessary southern title.

  “Okay…” Junior frowned, but his smile was back in an instant. “We’re playing Boggle. Do you want to play?”

  “M.J…” Mac started, sounding like he was preparing an excuse for me.

  “Sounds fun! I love that game!” I replied, cutting Mac off. I looked at him to see if he had any other objections, but he just looked bemused, as always.

  I followed M.J. into the large kitchen, and discovered that they actually did have a dining room table. The game was spread across it. Mac pulled out a chair for me, and I sat.

  “Who’s winning?” I asked.

  “Who do you think?” Mac grumbled, jerking a thumb at Junior, who grinned.

  We played three times, and M.J. held his own. He certainly had the most entertaining word finds. In round one he found the word “boob,” for which Mac nearly awarded him double points. In the second game he found “babe,” which Mac told him wasn’t really a proper word.