by L. B. Dunbar
“Because I don’t think the school would understand students living in my home.” It’s a silly excuse, as several teachers have their own children, but the point is, Lys and Lena are not my kids. I don’t want any trouble with the school questioning why students are living with a teacher.
“Why are they there?”
“Their home wasn’t safe,” I say too quickly, and Levi’s breath hitches. “I mean, the house itself wasn’t fit for living in. The furnace almost exploded one night. They are my neighbors, and I’ve offered them a place to stay for a while.” It’s mostly true. I have no idea how long Lys and Lena will be staying with Leon and how long the three of them will remain with me. I’m not eager to lose them, even if I’d still like my private space to be for me.
“That why he’s always at your home?” The fine hairs on the back of my neck rise. I don’t need to play these games with Levi, but I also don’t need to justify myself.
“They have an older brother whom they live with, and yes, he’s staying in my house as well.”
“He your boyfriend?” Typically, there might be a tease in his tone. He’s used that mockery on me when I see Ryan Reynolds on the screen, but this isn’t good-natured teasing.
“Levi, are you okay?” I question, avoiding an answer. The niggling under my skin cannot be ignored. Either Trent’s put Levi up to questioning me, or Levi is upset about something.
“I’m fine, Tricia. I’m always fine.” He’s lying, and the squeaky tone mixed with his changing vocal cords tell me the truth.
“Come with us today.” I’m no longer asking.
“Nah, you have fun with your new family,” he mocks, then to my surprise, he hangs up on me.
I make several attempts to call him back and even send a few text messages, but eventually, I need to leave with the girls and decide to give Levi some space.
The mall is a forty-minute trek from Elk Lake City. Once there, the girls each pick out something new for their fall wardrobe, and we have a late lunch. They dress differently than me, but I chalk it up to being teens. I’m well past the midriff tees and multi-sliced jeans. A few students see us together, but I simply wave and continue our day.
That night, we decide to watch a movie. It’s a chick flick, and Leon excuses himself when we invite him to watch.
“Not my thing,” he mutters, stating he’s going to Town Tavern for a beer. He sounds like Trent, but I quickly dismiss the thought. Leon and I aren’t anything other than roommates. Even though I’m convinced he was going to kiss me the other night in the hallway, he doesn’t owe me movies or dinner or anything. However, I find Lena watching me when her brother leaves.
As the movie plays, we sit around, interjecting throughout the production. Lena’s anti-romantic spirit crushes a lot of the sweet parts while Lys and I sigh dreamily at them. Still, I don’t think Lena is one hundred percent coldhearted.
“Do you like my brother?” she questions, and I almost spit out my diet soda. Instead, I choke. “I see you watching him.”
“What? I do not.” I sound like a teenager with a crush, denying the fact. Sitting up straighter on the couch, I clear my throat. “It wouldn’t be appropriate to have an interest in your brother. One, he’s my roommate, and two, I’m still married.”
“You’re married!” Lena shrieks, and Lys twists from her position lying on the floor. I should really pull up this shag carpeting because it is kind of gross.
“Yes. Hopefully, my divorce will be finalized soon.” Trent has been dragging his feet. My lawyer still has not heard from his, and I don’t know what the next move is. I’m afraid Trent’s denial or refusal to sign or whatever game he’s playing means he’s contesting the divorce, which could result in all kinds of headaches when I want this to be easy and over. He knows why I left. He knows what he did.
“What happened?” Lena asks, but Lys immediately interjects, “That’s none of your business.”
“He wasn’t nice to me.”
Lena rolls her eyes. “Here we go again with the nice versus mean people. What’d he do, say no when you wanted a new house?”
“We already had a house.”
“Was it better than this one?” Lena snarks with a chuckle.
“No, it was deep in the woods. A cabin, actually. He inherited it from his father, so to speak, which means we just moved into it on his dad’s property.”
Lena’s eyes narrow, and I feel Lys watching me. My voice trembles as I speak, but I haven’t said anything that isn’t common knowledge. “I wanted a home, and it’s why I live here instead.”
“Why didn’t he come with you?” Lys asks.
“Because I didn’t want him to,” I state.
“He’s mean, remember hermanita?” Lena mockingly snaps at her sister. While I don’t like her tone or her sarcasm toward my history, she doesn’t know what I’ve been through, and I’m not about to tell her the truth. She’s seventeen.
“How about another movie?” I suggest. Lena rolls her eyes and pushes herself up off the couch. “I’m going out.” Surprisingly, she hasn’t gone out much since moving in with me. She’s claimed she’s tired, and I’ve been concerned she’s depressed.
“Where?” I ask.
“None of your business,” Lena states, tipping her head side to side, and Lys hisses her sister’s name.
“I ask because I care. If I didn’t care, then you could have the attitude.” I glare back at Leon’s sister, knowing her heart hurts, and her mouth is trying to protect her. Lena stares back at me.
“Some kids are having a bonfire.”
“Who?” She rattles off some names I recognize as former students, and I nod. It’s innocent enough. I might be too close to this situation being their former teacher and knowing their behavior in school, but I’m trusting the names on the list and their families. However, it suddenly feels different, like I’m a parent, but I shake the thought.
“Midnight,” I say, and Lena’s mouth falls open.
“You are not seriously giving me a curfew?”
I glare back at her. “I am. Twelfth grade means midnight. Rules in my house when I was growing up. I’m not lame enough to think you can’t do before midnight whatever you might do after it, so do it before the clock strikes twelve and be home by midnight.”
“Or what? I’ll turn into a pumpkin and fall back to rags?” Her hand waves out, forcing me to glance around the living room. “I’m already living in hell without a fairy godmother.”
My breath hitches. She has no idea what hell is like even with a fairy godmother or in my case, just a good, decent mother. And while this house isn’t perfect, it has potential. It’s going to be all mine one day, so she can cut the shit attitude because from the hints I’m getting in Lys’s journal, I don’t think my home’s appearance isn’t too different than where they lived.
“Midnight,” I repeat. I’m not condoning she have sex by the strike on a clock, but she knows I’m right. Whatever she wants to do can be done before midnight just as easily as it can after. I’m hoping I don’t need to state she better not drink and drive, but perhaps a reminder is necessary.
“I’m not into anybody here. My man’s waiting for me back home.” Lena licks her lips and puts up a good front. For the first time, Lys snorts and rolls back to her belly facing the television.
“Whatchu laughing at? At least boys like me,” Lena says, and I shake my head. This was an argument between my sister and me once upon a time.
“Don’t do that,” I warn. Lena looks back at me. “Don’t value yourself based on boys’ attention and don’t ever compare yourself to your sister like that.” Pam had boyfriends, and I didn’t. Her curvy body was an instant attraction, and I felt the side effects of being more boyishly built and tomboy in nature. It was difficult growing up with the comparison.
Lena stares at me, but I’m not backing down on this. “Midnight. I know each family you just mentioned. I can check in to see if you ever showed, stayed, or departed the bonfire.”
Lena’s brow lifts. Her foot stomps, but she knows I’m serious. I can check on her, but I don’t want to have to do it.
“Fine,” she mutters, taking her coat from the closet and slamming the front door after she leaves. Good Lord, these slamming doors . . .
Lys twists to face me again. “She doesn’t mean it,” she says, looking up at me as she’s perched on her elbows on the floor. “She likes a boy here, and she doesn’t have a man waiting for her back home.”
“Oh yeah, who does she like here?” I love a little high school gossip. My former students love to come to my room during breaks in the day and tell all to me.
“She likes some boy named Durke Bryant.”
Good kid. I remember him. “Does he like her?”
Lys shrugs. “He’s better than Hector.”
“Who’s Hector?”
“The man she thinks is waiting for her, but he’s not. She’s a kid. He doesn’t want her.”
My stomach drops. What does she mean “he’s a man”? Like truly an adult, outside of high school?
“How old is Hector?”
“Like Leon’s age, but don’t tell Leon. He hates Hector.”
“Why?” I question without thinking. I shouldn’t be digging. Lys shrugs.
“Just always has. Said to stay away from him if we ever see him, but Lena didn’t. She never listens. She won’t be home by midnight.”
I smile weakly, hoping Lys is wrong about a few things—like Lena being in love with an older man, that man using her, and Leon hating him. Somehow, I don’t think their quiet, younger sister is mistaken, and a midnight curfew should be the least of my worries.
Halfway through the next movie, Leon returns and takes a seat on the opposite end of the couch. It’s strange having him near. Unfortunately, if he’d stayed at the bar, he’d feel just as far away.
“Lena went out,” I tell him. “I told her to be home by midnight.”
“You gave Lena a curfew?” He chuckles after asking, finally looking over at me. Lys rolls to her tummy to speak to her brother.
“You should have heard her. She put Lena in her place.”
Leon lifts a brow to me, and I shrug.
“Although she’s going to owe me five bucks when Lena doesn’t show at midnight,” Lys teases.
“And you’ll owe me laundry duty when she does,” I tease back.
Lys smiles, and I sense Leon watching me, so I turn to him, still grinning. Only when I see the look on his face, mine falters. He looks upset, like I did something I shouldn’t have done. His eyes stay on me for a minute before dipping to my lips. Quickly, he looks away.
“I’m going up to my room.” He pushes off the couch, and using his long legs, he takes the stairs three at a time. My eyes follow his retreat, and when I turn back to the television, Lys is watching me. She smiles big, and I smile back like we share a secret, but when I glance over her head toward the front window, I scream.
Lesson 15
A man is only as good as his word.
[Leon]
Fucking hell. I heard her scream over the shower I desperately need to get off in so I can forget the sound of her teasing my sister.
Racing down the stairs in only a towel, I jump three at a time to find Tricia staring at the front window, and Lys sitting upright, looking back at her teacher.
“What the hell?”
“I thought I saw a spider,” Tricia says, her voice trembling as if she saw an ax murderer.
“A spider?” I growl.
“It looked like a man was outside on the front porch,” Lys says while still observing Tricia, whose eyes don’t move from the window. “But it could have been a reflection from the television.” Lys doesn’t sound certain.
Based on the position of the set, with the back of the unit to the window, there is no chance it’s a reflection. I don’t try to correct my sister. Instead, I’m watching Tricia, who is visibly shaking. A spider cannot possibly cause such a panic-stricken expression. She’s too tough.
“What did you see?” I question Tricia. Her eyes don’t leave the dark glass pane.
“Tricia,” I bark. She flinches but doesn’t move her head. Stepping closer, I speak again. “Baby, look at me.”
Slowly, her neck twists, and she peers up at me, eyes wide and dark as a forest under midnight. She’s lost inside, and I can’t find her, not even with her looking at me.
I lower to one knee, holding the towel around me as best I can so the goods don’t show. “What did you see, pretty lady?” I question, keeping my eyes fixed on her as my voice softens.
“A spider,” she whispers, but she’s lying. An eight-legged creature would not freeze a person like this unless it’s the size of the house . . . or the size of a man.
“What did he look like?” I question, still holding her gaze.
“Large with curly hair.”
“Six feet tall and frightening,” I add, my voice hardening as I speak. Tricia doesn’t move. I don’t think she’s even drawing in air.
“Breathe, baby,” I suggest, keeping my voice quiet, knowing Lys is watching us. My eyes remain on my roommate as I slowly rise. Tricia focuses on me as I take a step to the door and then turn to open it.
“No!” she cries out, but I’m on the small front porch before she finishes the word. The light’s on waiting for Lena, and I see truck taillights off in the distance up the road.
Fucker. I turn back for the house. Inside, Tricia remains fixed to the couch. Her eyes connect with mine, but she’s still not seeing me. Swallowing a few times, she closes her eyes and licks her lips. When she opens them, she tries to smile at Lys, but it isn’t working. The curl of those cherry-red lips is all wrong, and I don’t like it.
“I’m going to look for some chocolate,” Tricia tells my sister, who is still watching her teacher with concern. Slowly, Tricia stands, her legs wobbling, and I reach out for her. Her hands come up, held out to prevent me from touching her, and she gives me a false grin.
“Chocolate,” she whispers and heads to the kitchen.
“Lys,” I hiss quietly to my sister once Tricia leaves the room. “What did you see, hermanita?”
“It was only a reflection,” she says, her voice small and quiet.
“Lys, you aren’t in trouble, but you need to tell me,” I demand.
“He looked about your size with a ball cap on his head, but it wasn’t for a team.” Camouflage, I bet.
“Did you see him do anything?”
Lys motioned with her fingers—two pointed at her eyes and then pointed at me.
“He did that to Tricia?” My voice rises, and Lys stares at me. “Lys, answer the question.”
My sister flinches. “Did you know she was married? She said he was one of the mean people in town.”
My heart hammers in my chest. “Did she say what he did?”
“No, she wouldn’t tell us, and Lena laughed at her. Told Tricia she didn’t know any mean people here, but I think Tricia does.”
“Are people mean to her at school?” I don’t like the direction of this conversation.
“Ms. Carter?”
I nod.
“No. Everyone likes her. She’s a favorite.”
“So who would be mean to her?”
“She said her husband was not a nice man.”
Lys watches me as I stand to my full height and stare out the front window.
“Okay. Okay, Lys, thank you for telling me. You sure you didn’t see anything else?”
She shakes her head.
“Okay,” I whisper and head for the kitchen where Tricia stands with her hands spread on the counter. Her head rests against the upper cabinets. The only light on is the one above the stove.
“Incoming,” I warn, hoping she’ll turn, which she does, and I step up to her, pulling her to me. One arm wraps around her back, my hand splaying across the space between her shoulders while my other hand palms the back of her head. Her arms fall to her sides for a minute, but I squeeze he
r tighter. Cautiously, her hands come to my waist. Her fingers are freezing against my bare skin, and I realize too late I’m holding her against my naked chest because I’m still only dressed in a damp towel. I hug her tighter as if I can mold her to me, imprint her on my skin, because she’s slowly seeping under it. I can’t get her close enough.
“He will not get you.”
“Who?” she mutters. She held my wrist in an alley. She let me kiss her in a bar. We both know who I’m referring to.
“He will not get to you. Not with me here.”
“You can’t promise that,” she whispers.
“I can. This is my promise to you. He will not hurt you, baby.”
“A promise is like a vow, and you said they were full of air.” Her mouth heats my skin when she speaks, and her statement coils around my heart. That isn’t exactly what I said, but I smile to myself when I remember the text I sent her the day we played ball. Shakespeare knew where it was at, but he doesn’t know me. My promises are solid.
“This is a real one, baby. You’ll see.”
I might live to regret making such a vow, but as I stand here, holding her in my arms—even if she isn’t holding me back—I know this woman with trouble written all over her is someone I will make promises to over and over again, and I will work like hell to keep every one of them.
+ + +
Tricia and I stay up until midnight, blindly watching the television. I can’t even tell you what is on the screen. Lys had gone to her room when the movie they were originally watching ended. Tricia sits a mile away from me, head balanced on her raised hand, propped up by her elbow on the armrest. At one point, her arm collapses, and she almost knocked herself out but caught herself just before her temple hits the edge of the couch.
“Come here,” I mutter, holding out an arm and wiggling my fingers at her. I’d taken the fastest shower of my life, washing the bar’s scent off me and returning to the living room in loose sweats and a faded T-shirt. I tip my head, encouraging a skeptical Tricia to move closer to me.
