“Poppycock. Neither you nor Jackson have been right since his lunatic decision.”
I shrugged. “I think we’ve both moved on fairly well.”
“I admire your zeal, but you’re not fooling anyone.”
I gave her a little laugh. “I’m doing my best.”
She patted my hand. “Give him hell, darling.”
I tilted my head. “I’m surprised to hear you say that.”
“After what he did to you, I would expect no less, but don’t go so far that you can’t come back.”
I looked back at the table to find anything to be interested in.
“Presley?”
I had to look up and into her imploring eyes. I rubbed my lips together. “I can’t go back to him after what he did.”
She took my hand and, for an eighty-year-old woman, she had a lot of get up and go. She hauled me over to a private area. I felt like maybe I should stand in the corner, her look was so stern. “Darling, I understand that he hurt you and said some very unkind things, but it’s not anything that you can’t work out.”
I sighed deeply. I was tired of defending myself. “How can I trust him with my heart again after he decided there were other things more important to him? And that’s fine, I wasn’t his wife so that was his choice to make. But I wanted to be his wife, and I can’t be with a man that won’t choose me over his career, or even his family. The funny thing is, I would have never asked. I would have tried to support him in both, but what he did was telling. And him moving in with his dad speaks to where his heart truly lies. And it isn’t with me.”
She adjusted her diamond tennis bracelet. “I’m disappointed in the role my son has played in this whole fiasco, but . . .” Her eyes misted.
I reached out for her arm. “Are you okay?”
She placed her hand over mine and composed herself. “Yes, darling. No need to worry your pretty head. There are circumstances that need to be taken into consideration. Don’t be like my son and judge without looking into someone’s heart.”
“What circumstances?”
She squeezed my hand. “It is not my place to say. Well, I think it is, but for now, I have promised not to. Please don’t ask me to break my word.” She pointed at my heart. “Take a good look in here before you walk away for good.” She gave me a wink. “In the meantime, don’t go easy on him.”
Day Fifty-Six
Monday, September 20
So much for that relaxing, no Mr. Montgomery weekend. I was thinking about him more now than ever. It was kind of ticking me off. I was just over a month to my goal and I kept getting sidelined by the defense. I was going to have to try harder, but I would be seeing more of him this week since he had lined up some visits for the cowboy path program, as he was calling it. He emailed me through the school’s email system. That, I couldn’t block him from.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the mysterious conversation I’d had with Miss Liliana. What circumstances was she talking about? And why did I even care? Oh, yeah. It was a crazy little thing called love. But I could overcome that, right?
Then there was the Connie situation. Her message left an impression on me in more ways than one. I wagered she still carried some of the pain Mr. Crandall caused her. I wondered if she only wanted to talk to him so she could tell him off. Or did she still hold a place for him in her heart? Would she consider rekindling their old flame? And how was Mr. Crandall going to feel about me meddling in his life? Would he still be afraid and let the chance go?
How was I going to feel about Mr. Montgomery thirty-five years from now? Surely I would have met someone by then and we would be ridiculously happy with children and, who knows, maybe even a grandchild. Would sixty-two-year-old me still have a place in my heart for him? I couldn’t let that happen.
I left for school early so I could talk to Mr. Crandall in private. I figured I should tell him sooner rather than later so I could quit thinking about it. I had more pressing matters, like how I was going to get over Mr. Montgomery in the next thirty-four days.
I found Mr. Crandall in his usual spot, pacing the stage under the spotlight. He rubbed his chin as he went.
I was almost to the stage before he opened his eyes and looked at me. “Have you returned for more advice?”
I laughed. “Not today. In fact, I have some for you.”
“Curious.” He reached out his hand to help me up the stage steps.
“Do you mind if we sit down?” I wasn’t sure how he was going to take the news, so I thought being closer to the ground was a good option.
Without a word, he helped me sit on the hardwood floor before he joined me. “Are you enjoying your mornings free of car line duty?”
“I enjoy not being around the men in the car line.”
He laughed deeply. “Yes, dear, you have caused quite the stir. But who can be blame these besotted fools?”
“Do you mean Mr. Montgomery and Brad?”
“Those are only the ones willing to try.” He winked.
I leaned back and narrowed my eyes. “What have you heard?”
He patted my leg. “Not heard, but seen. You turn heads, my dear.”
“Uh-huh.”
“So modest. But I did see something else that may interest you.”
“What’s that?”
“In an attempt, I’m sure, to get over you, our Mr. Sutton and the librarian were using our prop room.”
“What? No! Stella and Brad?” I couldn’t wait to tell Capri.
He chuckled. “Oh, yes, they were quite embarrassed when I walked in on them.”
I placed my hand over my heart. “I wonder if Mindy knows. I thought she and Stella were best friends.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I think I will steer clear of the teacher’s lounge and the library.”
“Good thinking. He does get around. I can’t believe I let him kiss me.”
“That did more good than harm. I think it gave our vice principal a well-earned kick in the pants.”
I wasn’t touching that comment. “Well, I’m here to kick you this morning.”
His eyes widened. “Is that so?”
“Yep. It’s long overdue.”
“Well, dear, my curiosity has been piqued.”
I took his warm, soft hand. “Remember the last discussion we had right here?”
“Of course. I see that I’m right and Jackson has finally come to his senses. The question is, will you?”
My muscles tensed for a moment. “I’ll address that at another time. I wasn’t talking about Mr. Montgomery or me. I was talking about you and the lovely Connie.”
I felt him go rigid.
“How would you feel about speaking with her again?”
He dropped my hand and stood up. He began to pace the stage again. His reaction surprised me.
I jumped up and followed him back and forth. “Mr. Crandall?”
He gazed toward me with his ashen face. “What’s done is done.”
“But it’s not done. Not for her or you.”
“And how would you know that?”
I bit my lip. “Maybe . . . I contacted her.”
“Dear, why would you do such a thing?”
I stopped and stood my ground. “Because I love you and thought you both deserved a second chance, if it was available. I don’t think you gave yourself or her enough credit back then. See, when a woman gives you her heart, all she wants to know is that you will cherish it and give her yours in return. We don’t care about the size of your paycheck or your profession, only that you come home to us every night. You misjudged her.”
He stood stunned for a moment. “Does she want to . . .”
“Talk to you? Yes. But only if you have the courage to contact her yourself. I think it’s safe to say you kind of ticked her off.”
He laughed for a second. “I’m sure I did. She was fiery, like you.”
“You’re going to have to join Facebook. It’s the only way I know how to get a hold of her. She wasn�
�t forthcoming with any other contact information. I think she wants you to work for it.”
“That sounds like her.”
“So, will you?”
He blew out a large breath. “You’ve certainly given me something to consider.”
“Mr. Crandall.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “I can’t guarantee that it would be a happy reunion, for all I know, she only wants to scream at you. But she said you were her only what-if in life. If you cared about her at all, the least you can do is answer that question for her.”
“I will let you know, dear.” He walked away, muttering to himself.
I walked out of the auditorium and ran into Capri. She was bursting with excitement. I was pretty sure I knew why. She pulled me to the art room. “You will never believe what I just saw.”
Maybe I didn’t know.
“I should have recorded it.”
“Tell me.”
I wasn’t ever sure I had seen her smile so big. “I just saw Mindy rip off Stella’s necklace in the parking lot and then Stella slapped her.”
“Nooo.”
“Yes! Jackson and Coach had to break it up. And guess who it was over?”
“Brad.” I grinned. “Mr. Crandall told me he caught Stella and Brad making out in the prop room. Now I’m going to have to disinfect it.”
“This just gets better and better. I’m pretty sure Jackson was directing all three to Dr. Walters’ office.”
“That’s embarrassing. I bet some kid filmed the whole thing. Watch your Facebook feed.”
“We should write a book. You can’t make this stuff up. We’ll call it, Tales of a Man Whore. Or The Witch and the Evil Librarian and the Man Who Tore Them Apart.”
“Those sound like bestsellers. At least I won’t be the one people are talking about anymore.”
“At least for the next few days, but I’m pretty sure everyone is tuned in to see if you will or won’t. I even think Lonnie in the math department is calculating the odds on it.”
“Please tell me you’re lying.”
“Sorry, sister.”
“At least find out what the odds are of me rejecting his advances.”
“I’m pretty sure they’re slim. Everyone thinks he’ll win you over.”
“Little do they know, I’m almost two-thirds of the way over him.”
She arched her eyebrow. “Is that so?”
I dropped my head. “No. But I’m almost over the extreme sadness stage, so I feel like I will gain a lot of traction in the final third part of the plan.”
She hugged me fiercely. “I’m still rooting for you. Unless, that is, you change your mind.”
I pulled away from her. “Not you, too.”
“I’m just saying that I won’t think less of you if you decide to get back together with him. I promised David I would tell you that.”
“He’s a traitor.”
“Yes, but I love him. And he says Jackson’s been pretty torn up about the situation. And according to David, he has so many balls up in the air, he can’t focus on you the way he wants to.”
I would hate to see my state if he had more time to “focus” on me. But that statement alone made me wary. I’m not a woman who needs or even wants constant attention, but I wasn’t going to be someone’s afterthought. “I’m sure his dad will make sure he doesn’t have time for me, especially since he’s living with him now.”
She pursed her lips. “Something seems off about that. I asked David why, and all he would say was that Jackson hoped it was temporary. And here’s an interesting tidbit that David learned by accidentally overhearing a phone conversation. It looks like Jackson’s dad is taking an early retirement.”
“That makes no sense at all. He is his job. Maybe the board got tired of him and ousted him.”
Capri shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know, but maybe you can ask Jackson during your visits on Wednesday.”
“Ha ha. No.”
Students started filing in.
Capri gave me a wicked grin. “I can’t wait until lunch. Maybe by then someone will know what the outcome is from the cat fight this morning.”
“Something to look forward to.”
“You know you want to know as much as me,” she called out to my retreating figure.
She was right.
Day Fifty-Eight
Wednesday, September 22
Dear Mr. Bingley,
There is so much intrigue going on at the school right now. I don’t know where to begin. I feel like my life is an angsty drama on the CW. First of all, Mr. Crandall has promised me that by this weekend he will have a Facebook profile up and running and will reach out to Connie. I’m holding him to it, even though he looked like he needed to sit down when he told me. It’s kind of cute to see him so nervous. I guess I’m glad to know not only women get that way when it comes to affairs of the heart. This is the least dramatic thing going on right now.
I told you Monday about the cat fight in the parking lot over the resident would-be Greek god who, in my estimation, is a total loser. I have it on good authority that not only is he causing problems with the women at school, parents have called and complained about his teaching practices. Sounds like he’s unprepared for class, goes off on unrelated tangents, and he gives the answers out to his tests before he gives them. So now he’s on probation, but my source, aka Capri, says that’s just a nice way to say don’t plan on teaching here for much longer and this would be a good time to explore your options. I still can’t believe his lips touched mine. We’ll chalk it up to a minor breakdown, which I deserved after having my heart stomped on.
As for Mindy and Stella, they are both on unpaid leave, and if they ever hope to come back, they have to attend anger management courses and have a psych evaluation. So maybe I’ve taken a little more pleasure in that fact than I should have.
That leaves me with my own saga. Word on the street is the odds that I fall for Mr. Montgomery’s advances and pleadings are twelve to one. I get that Mr. Montgomery has some pretty serious stats on his side: charming, handsome, kind, intelligent, successful . . . you get the picture. But I shouldn’t be underestimated. I’m a lion, not a kitten; my roar is greater than my meow.
And like David said, he hasn’t really put that much effort into winning me back, not that it would matter. But he does seem very preoccupied. I think it has something to do with his dad, but I’m not sure why I care. He does look a little stressed and his eyes have been tired the past couple of days. Yeah, I still notice. And yes, I want to ask him why. And yes, I have to spend an afternoon with him. And yes, I’m kind of dying over it.
Thirty-two more days.
I got this . . . I think,
Presley
I may have skipped lunch, I was so nervous about spending the afternoon with Mr. Montgomery. Which was sad because I had never felt more comfortable around anyone in my life, not even Capri—don’t tell her. But now I wasn’t sure how to be around him. Obviously, since it was on school hours and school related, I would act professionally, but it was hard to be so guarded around someone that knew everything about you. Someone I had been so vulnerable with. I guess that’s how you’re supposed to love, and why it hurts so much when it ends and even more, when it doesn’t have to, but you feel like it should.
And I’m not going to lie and say I haven’t entertained the thought. But like I said, his words said let’s give us another try, but his actions said something completely different. Mr. Montgomery was not Jackson. I didn’t know where Jackson went. Jackson walked out my door fifty-eight days ago.
I walked up to the front office, taking deep breaths as I went. It was one afternoon. I could do this. Roar, baby, roar! I stood up taller and walked with purpose to the click-clack of my heels against the tile floor. I was happy to report that my butt and floor didn’t meet again. I stood outside the office and waited for Mr. Montgomery to appear. I felt like every staff member that walked by gave me that look that said they knew who I was meeting with and the
y were calculating the odds in their head. I wouldn’t be surprised if there had been some money thrown down as a wager. I would teach them to bet against me.
Mr. Montgomery walked out looking handsome, albeit a little tired, and suddenly I felt like a kitten. I wanted to purr. No. No. I’m roaring.
“Presley.” Dashing looks with a charming smile did not help the situation.
“Mr. Montgomery.” That was me roaring.
He sighed. “You’re not going to give up calling me that, are you?”
“No, sir.”
He frowned. “Shall we go?”
I noticed his umbrella and then looked outside to see that it had started to rain. “Can you just tell me where we’re going first and I’ll meet you there. I want to get my umbrella.”
He held up his umbrella. “I got us covered. It doesn’t make sense to take two vehicles.”
I internally debated about whether I should try to win this argument or just take off. That was my first mistake.
Dr. Walters came out. “Good, good. I’m looking forward to getting this program off the ground. I have my A players on the case.” He pushed us both forward. What could I do at that point?
I noticed Mr. Montgomery smirked.
Fine.
We walked out the door and Mr. Montgomery immediately opened his umbrella and kept the rain off both of us. “This is cozy.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
He chuckled. “I miss you.”
I looked around. “Aren’t we working? That wasn’t very professional.”
“I’ll behave until four.”
“I think we’ll be back to school by then.”
“You never know about these things. We could find ourselves at dinner, or if the weather clears up, our favorite spot in the park. I have a Tom Clancy novel in my glove compartment, just in case.”
I moved as far away from him as I could without leaving the protection of the umbrella. “I think asking me out is outside of professional.”
“I’m just giving you some possibilities to explore.” He closed the gap between us.
“I don’t know if you remember, but you gave me one already when you broke up with me.” I picked up the pace to his car. So much for being professional.
How to Get Over Your Ex in Ninety Days Page 15
