by Ines Saint
Isaac rolled his eyes again, but this time, he added a little shrug.
Soon, Isaac was ready to go back. But Veronica and Lizzy, another one of Marissa’s students, were waiting outside. And Johnny got his very first taste of a Facebook feud.
It was bitter.
“She no have to put it on the wall!” and “If I no look, Mr. A, how I know what she writing on me?” were among the shouts coming out of his office.
By Wednesday, he’d handled two Twitter feuds, as well. Johnny even e-mailed his favorite professor about it, telling him they seriously needed to add a class on social media feuds to the school psychology program. His professor responded that maybe Johnny should write his thesis on it. Now there was a scary thought.
Electronic devices were a great tool for Marissa’s class in particular. The kids were able to take notes, look up translations, definitions, and lyrics, but they could also insult each other on social media when they didn’t agree on something. So far, the three-strikes-you’re-out threat was working for that, too.
The promise of holding afternoon dance-offs with the kids if they met their goals also seemed to work. They loved seeing ol’ Mr. A break out his moves.
Marissa’s and Amy’s mornings had been full of triumphs and headaches. The headaches that bordered on migraines they sent to Johnny’s office. There was no other choice. The kids had to concentrate, collaborate, make choices, and keep moving forward. But disagreements and arguments kept setting them back.
But as focused as Marissa was on guiding the kids and keeping them on task, a little piece of her brain kept wandering over to Johnny’s office, wondering what went on inside those walls.
One thing was becoming very clear. Johnny was great at his job. Whatever he was saying to the kids, it worked. It was hard to stay angry at him for singing that song on Friday evening when he was making the school day so much easier. And it was hard to feel awkward when Johnny was such a monkey every afternoon. The kids loved watching him making a fool of himself dancing. Marissa’s only worry was that Johnny seemed to really believe he was a good dancer...
At least he was getting tons of likes on the kids’ Facebook pages, where they’d uploaded some of their dance-offs. By the time the school year came around, every kid in school would know who Mr. A was.
“Are you on Facebook?” Amy asked Johnny that Friday at lunch. It was a beautiful day and he, Marissa, Amy, and Harold were having lunch outside. He and Marissa were on friendly terms at school, and he would be eternally grateful for her understanding and forgiving nature. He just had to treat her with respect and true friendship. It was hard and he still struggled, but it would have to be enough for him. He simply had to treat her the way he treated friends he wasn’t in love with . . .
He took a quick look around to make sure no kids were listening before answering Amy. “Heck, no. Too many ex-girlfriends on there for me to be even the slightest bit tempted to join.”
“I hear ya!” Harold said. “But for a widower like me, it’s a good thing. Gets lonely sometimes. It’s good to know some ladies never forgot you.”
Amy laughed.
“You two are so full of yourselves.” Marissa rolled her eyes.
Amy turned to Johnny. “Why are you so afraid of your exes? Were you that much of a cad, or are you worried they’ll stalk you? You seem like a good guy, so I’m guessing you’re worried they’ll stalk you.”
Johnny took a bite of his sandwich, but didn’t answer.
Marissa gave him a look. “You’re not hard to get over, you know.”
“You wouldn’t know,” he teased. Amy and Harold laughed.
Heat crept up Marissa’s neck, but she willed herself to cool off before it could reach her face. She sometimes forgot Johnny had no idea she’d once harbored strong feelings for him. So many people had teased her about having a crush on him when they were younger, she’d always thought he’d caught on, despite her denials. “I grew up with you, I know at least half a dozen of your ex-girlfriends, and I know for a fact they’ve moved on.” She went to her phone and looked up her own Facebook account to show him how happy some of his old girlfriends were.
“You’re on Facebook?” Johnny cast a pretend look of disdain her way.
“Of course. I don’t feel the need to hide from anyone.”
He laughed and leaned over her shoulder to look at her phone, but Marissa gasped the moment she looked down at it. “It’s the Marconi and McNeely Fund. I friended them on Facebook, and they posted that they’ve made their decisions and have sent out e-mails.” She then practically threw her phone at Amy and covered her eyes. “Look at my e-mail messages for me. I can’t do it myself.”
Amy looked just as nervous. “No. I can’t look, either. There’s too much at stake. You look!” Amy slid the phone over to Johnny and clutched her stomach.
Johnny chuckled, took the phone, and searched for her e-mail application. But the laughter died on his lips when he saw that Brian’s picture was Marissa’s screen saver. With a deep breath to steady himself, he clicked on the e-mail icon. “There’s a message here from Marconi and McNeely. Do you want me to read it?” he asked. Marissa looked so anxious, he could practically feel her nerves playing Ping-Pong against him.
“Yes. Please. Is it normal that I’m such a coward?”
“You’re fine. Let’s see . . .” He cleared his throat before reading out loud. “Dear Ms. Medina, we are pleased to inform you that your project proposal has been awarded a grant in the amount of eight thousand dollars—”
Both Marissa and Amy whooped, and Marissa jumped out of her seat and hugged him before he could finish reading the letter. He hugged her back and whispered, “I’m so proud of you.”
She looked over at Amy and Harold, intending to hug them next, but they were both staring at her and Johnny with funny expressions on their faces. Marissa paused, feeling strange and exposed for a moment, but she shoved the feelings away, refusing to let them take root and ruin her peace of mind. She ran around the table and bear-hugged them.
Amy let out a “Woohoo!” that got all the kids’ attention and soon they were all celebrating, funny looks forgotten.
But the celebratory mood was not to last. “So . . .” Amy began, as the two women walked back into the school. “What was that about?”
Marissa looked over at her friend. “What was what about?”
“You and Johnny . . .” She trailed away for a moment before rushing on. “I know it’s none of my business, but the two of you were in your own little world for a moment there and, I don’t know . . .”
“I told you, I’ve known him since I was a baby. We’ve had our issues, but being with him is like . . . being with family. I guess it could look like we’re in our own little world.” She turned and gave Amy a quick squeeze on the shoulder. “Thanks for looking out for me, but I’m okay.” She then picked up her pace, and soon left her friend’s concerns outside. It was true, Johnny felt like family.
By the time she got to her classroom, the kids were all there, talking and planning among themselves. It looked like they had finally tired of arguing and getting nowhere.
They began to really listen to each other and work together to choose and edit the videos to submit along with Act Two, and the afternoon ended up going by a lot faster than the morning had.
Johnny left right after school for the first time since he’d started working there. There was something he needed to do, and he had to make sure Marissa wasn’t around when he did it.
He stopped by a local grocer, bought the biggest and brightest flower arrangement he could find, and drove to Michelle and Roberto Medina’s house.
Michelle was watering some plants when he arrived. The look she gave him was not encouraging. Her highly mobile features looked like they’d been cemented into a scowl.
Johnny extended the flowers. She folded her arms. He began his overdue, heartfelt speech, but didn’t drop his arm. “Mrs. Medina, you’ve been a second mother to me, and I am so
sorry for what happened during Melinda’s welcome home party. I know there’s no excuse for ruining your daughter’s welcoming, and for making her and everyone in your family feel bad, but I’d really like the chance to explain myself.”
She frowned, ungraciously took the flowers, and motioned for him to sit on the garden bench.
Michelle Medina found her voice the moment she sat down, and her face and hands instantly became active again. “What possible explanation can you have? You told Marty and Rosa you were sure. Everything checked out. A masquerade party. Meeting someone. The invitation. The costume. What could she have possibly done to make you reject her in less than two minutes after you’d been going on and on about her for an entire year? How do you think that made her feel? How do you think I feel that I told her and everyone else? I’ve been beating myself up over it. It was the last thing Melinda needed. What do you have to say for yourself?” she finished, accidentally hitting him with the flowers for the third time.
Johnny took a deep breath, but he waited to make sure Mrs. Medina was done. He hadn’t anticipated her bringing up all the details that had initially made him sure Melinda was the one. “I know it sounds crazy, but I made a mistake. It turns out Melinda and I were both at the same masquerade party that night, and I did find her invitation nearby, but she wasn’t the girl I met. Melinda herself confirmed she was dressed as Little Bo Peep. The girl I met was dressed like a . . . peasant.”
“But why did you have to tell her right then and there? Couldn’t you have waited?” She lowered her voice and glanced around. “You and Marty are close. I’m sure you know she came back because she hasn’t been able to find work in years. It wasn’t by choice. She hates it here. The party was meant to ease everything, but instead . . .” Her voice died away.
“Marty’s the most loyal person I know, Mrs. Medina. He doesn’t tell me personal details about any of you. I knew LA wasn’t what Melinda had thought it would be, but I thought she was looking forward to this great backup plan of going to college to study broadcast journalism and start a community theater here . . . I had no clue she wasn’t happy. And Marty had asked me to please make a clean break with Melinda if I thought things wouldn’t work out between us.”
Johnny paused and looked over at the woman who’d fed him, chided him, and welcomed him into her family for years. “I haven’t told anyone this, but I want to change. Marty had said I was too careful with people’s feelings, and that I end up sending mixed signals. So that night, I followed Marty’s advice to a tee, but it backfired. For a moment there, it seemed like no matter what I do, I always get into trouble. But I’m starting to figure it out.”
Mrs. Medina sighed. “Well, I’m glad you’re figuring it out, because you always seem to drag a Medina along with you.” She looked out into the distance. “Marissa’s trying to get us to adopt one of those puppies, you know. But Brian’s allergic, and then they wouldn’t be able to visit us, and they’d spend more time with his parents than here, and that would drive me nuts.”
Johnny hesitated. He wanted to make sure he and Mrs. Medina were good, but it was hard to have to listen to her talk about an allergy he knew was fake. “Are we okay, Mrs. Medina? I truly am sorry.”
Mrs. Medina got to her feet and tapped his shoulder with the flowers. “I know you are. And I know my big mouth was to blame, too. Just promise me you won’t get any other Medinas tangled up in your adventures. We all got caught in this last one. Even Rosa. And she thinks she never makes mistakes.”
Johnny laughed. “I’ll do my best,” he promised, then got up to leave.
“See that you do.”
He turned back to give her a soldier’s salute, but he caught sight of Melinda standing at an open window upstairs. She looked sad and stunned, and he guessed she must’ve heard her mother’s worries. “And try not worry about Melinda. She’ll find her way.” He glanced up. Melinda stuck her middle finger up at him. Oh well.
“I hope so.” Mrs. Medina bent down to continue to tend to her garden. “Good luck with la brigada loca tomorrow!”
“You know about that?”
“Of course. Rosa, Marty, and Roberto are going, too.”
Johnny shook his head. Brigada loca, indeed.
Chapter 12
Marissa got up the next morning bright and early. It was beautiful out, and hope for a fun, productive day burned bright. But her spirits sagged somewhat when she looked at her phone to see that Brian had texted her late the night before, asking her to try to be home by eleven because he’d be picking her up to go see a few houses in Springboro. Springboro was a good choice. It was a midpoint between both of their jobs. Still, she was agitated when she texted him back, telling him to expect her at twelve sharp, like they’d agreed.
When she got to the kitchen, her father was waiting for her, sporting a huge smile. Her mother had made them a big breakfast and had filled two thermoses with steaming hot coffee for the road. Her mood lifted again.
“I’m really looking forward to today,” her father said, before stuffing a forkful of eggs and bacon into his mouth.
“I think you’re all doing a great thing. Kids lose hope when their surroundings are depressing,” her mother said as she slid two pancakes onto a plate that was already full of eggs and bacon. “You’ll need extra fuel to get through the day,” she added when she saw Marissa staring wide-eyed at her overflowing plate.
Seeing both of her parents on board made her feel better about holding Brian off until twelve. As different as her parents were, they both believed in what she was doing.
“Is Brian meeting us here, or will he meet us at the school?” her father asked after washing down his food with orange juice. Again, that agitated feeling fluttered in her chest. Brian had warned her he’d end up looking bad.
Marissa took her time chewing, swallowing, and planning her response, because Brian’s whereabouts would inevitably come up again. “Actually, I was supposed to go up to Cleveland this weekend, but I really wanted to do this.” It had been Brian’s decision to come down because they needed to find a house within the next six weeks, but it was all still true. “He’s tired from the drive down and he has a lot of work to get through this morning, plus he’s researching towns, neighborhoods, and houses for us. I’m meeting him at twelve to go house-hunting.”
“You’re leaving at twelve?” Her father had been about to put another forkful of food in his mouth, but he paused to give her a surprised look. Marissa ignored the look and kept eating. Twelve sounded early, but they’d be at the school by seven, and she knew she’d get a whole lot done. If they ever got out of the kitchen, that was. Michelle Medina insisted on packing up leftovers in case anyone got hungry before lunch.
When Roberto and Marissa finally got to the school, her father’s jaw dropped, and Marissa laughed out loud, shocked but delighted. Marty, Johnny, Sam, and Dan were standing in front of at least ten kids and twice as many helpers. Marissa recognized some parents, grandparents, and both older and younger siblings.
A bright-eyed Johnny somehow caught Marissa’s eye, and she couldn’t help but smile. With this many helpers, the school would be spruced up, both inside and out, before the day was through.
First up, they power-washed the school to get rid of as much old paint and grime as quickly as possible. They had three industrial power-washers, and most of the boys and a few of the girls wanted turns with them. The Amador boys gave careful instructions and supervised the kids closely, but the kids ended up doing a better job than the three brothers because they were careful and focused, while Johnny, Dan, and Sam used their turns to turn power-washing into a pissing match.
And Marty and Johnny apparently still had some issues to work out, because they kept arguing about who had been able to use the most power with the most precision. The kids had a blast cheering for Johnny until Sam and Dan put away the power toys.
With Rosa and Roberto interpreting for those who only knew Spanish, and Marissa juggling three translation apps and mul
tiple dictionaries for those who spoke other languages, the Amador brothers were able to take inventory of everyone’s skills and preferences, organize teams, and hand out assignments. They didn’t have enough materials and supplies to go around, though, so Sam and Dan went back to Amador Construction and Preservation to get more.
The morning was hot and the sun was shining down from a cloudless sky. They decided to get the outside done first, before the day got any hotter, and then move to work on the inside when the sun was at its highest. They’d work on the courtyard and lawns in the afternoon.
Before long, Dan and Sam were back and everyone was working. Aside from a few differences on the best way to paint or scrape, the individual groups got along well. Bits and pieces of animated conversations and laughter reached Marissa as everyone went merrily about their assignments. It was hard work, but already it felt rewarding.
Ruby and Rosa argued most of all. Ruby insisted she’d learned enough Spanish with Rosa over the years to understand the conversations going on in that language, and Rosa kept telling her she didn’t. Unfortunately, the water and snack station they were manning was right next to Marissa.
“Your nose is all out of joint because you can’t stand that you’re not the only one who understands Spanish anymore. The girl who just came up to us told you she liked your shoes. See? I understand perfectly.”
