by Lia London
Her Imaginary
Husband
All rights reserved
© 2015 Lia London Books
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
1~Good-bye, Main Street Market
2~Dressing for Success
3~Teacher In-Services
4~Martino’s Café
5~The Imaginary Husband
6~Faith and Fabricated Families
7~The First Day of School
8~Stupid Bee!
9~The Department Lunch Closet
10~Tiger Frame Sunglasses
11~The Farmer and the Goth Girl
12~Gossip and Advice
13~Football
14~A-chooo!
15~Class Conflict
16~A Bad Hair Day
17~Shaboobaloo
18~Homecoming
19~Apples and Troubled Kids
20~Helping David
21~Amanda Returns
22~Happy Halloween
23~Friday the 13th
24~The Best Policy
Epilogue: Seven Months Later
Special Thanks
About the Author
1~Good-bye, Main Street Market
Nikki saw Flip-Flop Man coming and veered left behind the broccoli. He had accosted her twice already this week, and she wasn’t ready to face him again. He was the prime reason she couldn’t wait to take off the Main Street Market apron and wipe her hands clean of jo-jo crumbs forever.
Unfortunately, Ben the Almighty Assistant Manager of Produce spotted her. His brows furrowed even as he continued to organize the apples so that all of their stems faced the same direction. “Deli’s over budget. I don’t know what you think you’re doing over here, Nikki,” he said with that whiny, power-asserting voice of his.
Nikki grabbed at some greenery. “We need more kale for the display case, and don’t talk to me about the budget. We had to make lunch for the corporate big shots last week.”
“Well, it’s not coming out of my budget.”
“Heaven forbid, Ben.” I know you’re saving money to buy a personality, she added silently. She spun on her nearly bald-traction heel and walked straight into Flip-Flop Man’s shopping cart. His wide grin told her that he had planned the move. Pinned between his frozen pizzas and the produce bin, she forced a smile. “Hello, sir. Could you please excuse me?”
Flip-Flop Man, so named because he wore orange flip-flop sandals every day, clucked his tongue. “What ever happened to customer service?”
Nikki waved the bundle of kale at Ben. “He’s your expert in produce, sir. I’m sure he’ll be able to help you find anything you need.” She nudged his cart back, but it bounced off of his ample beer gut and refastened her to the kale display. “Please, I need to get back to the deli.”
He winked an exaggerated conspiracy. “Right. I’ll meet you there.”
With a twist, she freed her hips and started past him.
He leered after her. “Yeah, I’m sure you’re cooking up something good.”
Even Ben snorted at that, but as usual, failed to show any trace of chivalry.
Men can be such scuzz buckets. She walked as fast as she could without actually running and made it back to home base in the deli. As per the kind of day she was having, she slipped on a smudge of grease right as she passed the counter and landed hard on her rear in the perpetual puddle that crept from under the dishwasher.
“Mind your language,” said Janna, sticking a price tag on a bag of chicken strips and handing them to a young mother with three kids in tow.
“I didn’t swear.”
“I could hear you thinking it from here.” Janna gave Nikki a hand up and took the kale. “Hey, good job not dropping it.” She shook droplets of water from the bundle and separated the leaves. “Only two more days, Nikki. Can you believe it?”
Two more days and it would be good-bye, Main Street Market. Nikki had landed a job at Riverview High just a few miles down the road in Eastmont and would soon join the ranks of respectably employed college grads. She looked down at her dusty apron, stained with spatters of condiments and seasonings. At the sink, she washed her hands and retied her pony tail. Her hair color matched the burnt corndogs in the hot case, but her figure showed no sign of ever eating them. With a groan, she adjusted the ever-so-fashionable hairnet. “What will I look like in clean clothes?”
“You getting ready to go out with me?” Flip-Flop Man was back, standing at the edge of the counter and watching Nikki with his creepy, amused sneer. “I’ll take you to a real nice place, and then we can go up to the Point.”
Nikki sighed and came forward, determined to remain civil, but just as she approached him, she slipped on the spot of grease again. She didn’t upend herself, but the flailing arms did nothing to demonstrate grace under pressure. She also managed to slam her arm into the corner of the display case.
“That’ll leave a mark,” said Janna, tucking a wisp of her platinum hair back into her net.
“Nice moves.” Flip-Flop Man laughed and shimmied his round shoulders. “If you want, we can go dancing, too.”
“Look,” said Nikki, grabbing the wall to make sure she didn’t fall again. “Do I have a sticker on my butt?”
“Huh?”
“What?” Janna giggled.
Nikki swiveled her well-toned but damp hip in his direction. “Take a good look, buddy.”
“Uh, okay,” he said, looking a little nervous. “Nice. Very nice.”
“Do you see a sticker?” she demanded.
“A what?”
Janna’s eyes grew even as her mouth disappeared in a tiny O.
“A price tag? A red sticker that reads $5.99 a pound? Anything?” She shook her bottom, and Janna covered her mouth to hide her laughter.
“Uh…no?” Flip-Flop Man took a step back.
Nikki turned back to face him with her fists on her hips. “That means I’m not for sale. Go shop somewhere else for a dumb, sleazy date!”
Janna slid down the back of the counter to the floor. Her wheezing laughter could not hide his affronted grunts as he stormed away without his daily serving of deep fried bean burritos.
Trembling with rage, Nikki stormed back into the deli only to slip one last time and land on her hands and knees. She let out a primeval scream, and Janna’s laughter burst out uncontrollably.
“You know ROFLOL is just an expression, right?” Nikki gritted her teeth.
“You are so fired when Chuck hears about this.” Janna wiped her eyes with the back of her wrist.
“Fire him!”
“You can’t fire a customer, Nik.”
“Stupid rule.”
Janna grinned. “Worth it, though?”
Nikki’s smile returned. “So very worth it.”
2~Dressing for Success
Nikki stared at the clothes strewn all over the bed. Four years of college and a grimy job at the local supermarket had earned her a fine collection of polyester black slacks, stained polo shirts, and a hoodie sweatshirt for each of her favorite sports teams. She used to have cute clothes, but that only seemed to attract the kind of guys who wanted to remove said clothes, so she had generally taken to hiding her looks behind a layer of frump. The disguise even had her fooled by now.
Meriwether, a ridiculously fluffy black cat, paced over anything light-colored and dropped to barrel roll and shed. Nikki scolded her to no avail, and finally had to pick her up and toss her to the floor. To this indignity, the cat merely turned a shoulder, licked her paw, and thwipped her tail back and forth.
Nikki grunted and pulled a green t-shirt over her head, sniffing quickly to make sure her pits still smel
led like Orchid Blossoms. Stuffing a zebra stripe wallet and a cell phone in the pockets of her jeans, she grabbed her keys and headed outside. Janna lived three blocks down and two flights up.
Janna opened the door, a towel wrapped turban-style on her head and otherwise wearing only water.
“I could’ve been a serial killer, you know.” Nikki shut the door as Janna retreated into her bedroom, casually blotting her hair dry.
“In Rakefield at 8:30 on a Saturday morning? Get real. More like a door-to-door tractor repairman. I knew it was you.” Janna pulled on underwear that was prettier than Nikki’s senior prom dress. “So what’s up? Did you get fired from your new job, too?”
“Not yet. We start Monday with in-services and teacher meetings for a week.” Nikki played up a helpless tone. “And I don’t have a thing to wear!”
“You can borrow some of my stuff.”
“I don’t think sequins are appropriate for old school marms.” Janna did a bit more clubbing than Nikki did. Which was easy because Nikki did none. “Besides, your clothes are all too long for me. I’m short, remember?”
“All the better,” Janna said, gliding back into the room with a snug halter dress. “You’re the one who insists on being modest all the time. Poor sun-deprived knee caps.”
“Come on. I have to go to the Mall, and I need a native guide.”
An hour later, Janna shoved Nikki into a dressing room with three blouses and three skirts. “These should be mix-and-matchable,” she said. “Once we see if the style lies on you right, we can grab more colors. Have fun. I’ll be back with some dresses.”
“Can’t I wear jeans?”
“At Riverview? I doubt it. Dress for success. In your case, that involves silk and showing off some leg.”
Groaning, Nikki peeled off her t-shirt and got to work.
“And come out here to look at yourself. The fluorescent lighting in those booths was designed by the anti-depressant drug companies to ensure future customers.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She had to admit that, even in the bad lighting, Janna had chosen well. She allowed a coquettish smile to creep up her cheek as she noted with surprise how feminine she looked. She played with her hair, lifting the long brown locks up and down in potential styles. Just as the flirty bug bit her and she winked over her shoulder at herself, Janna knocked loudly on the changing room door and Nikki screamed in surprise.
“Don’t do that to me!” She snapped open the door and reached out her hand.
“No, no, no. Let me see. Come out here with the three-way mirror.”
Nikki stepped out, wriggling her bare feet on the pink and green carpet and fidgeting with the sleeves. The crisp collar of the white blouse gave way to silky softness that accentuated her trim figure. The straight charcoal skirt hugged her hips without restricting her movement. She looked a little bit old school Hollywood glam.
“I love it, Jan. Good eye.”
Janna tapped her chin and twisted her lips in thought. “We’ll have to accessorize so it doesn’t make you look old.”
“What?” Nikki’s face fell.
“No, I’m not saying you look old. You look very elegant. Very Lauren Bacall,” she said. “But…”
“But…?”
“But some bold accessories and heels will make you look stylin’!” Janna gave Nikki a side hug as they looked at their reflections.
Taller and less curvy, Janna looked like she’d bought all of her clothes straight off the mannequins in the front window. Her bleached hair and teeth were almost equally white, gleaming against her spray tan and pink lipstick. Nikki saw all of this and tried not to be jealous that her own facial features weren’t quite as sharp, nor her eyes quite as big. Until today, she had considered herself very ordinary-looking, but the outfit she wore now gave her confidence that she could pass as pretty.
“Okay, enough admiring yourself. Get back in there,” said Janna, pushing Nikki back into the cubicle and handing her four dresses in various shades of reds and browns.
“I’ve got too many things in here already. There’s a limit.”
“Gimme the old stuff,” said Janna. “I assume it all looked good?”
Nikki grabbed Janna’s wrist and squeezed. “Yes. Thank you so much.”
Janna softened her shopping-is-serious-business mode for a moment and patted Nikki’s shoulder. “This is a far cry from greasy deli girl, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Have fun with it, Nikki. You’ve got the big bucks coming. It’s like you get to play dress-up every day.”
“I do still have to pay rent and all that,” said Nikki, closing the door and hanging up the next batch of hangers.
“Yeah, yeah. Hurry up so we can get the shoes and jewelry! That’s the fun part!”
After three more hours, Nikki and Janna left the Mall laden with designer bags full of flattering clothes, over-priced jewelry, high-quality make-up, and three of the most uncomfortable pairs of shoes Nikki had ever consented to wear.
As they pushed open the double doors and stepped into the mid-day sunlight, a boy on a skateboard soared by shouting happy obscenities at a boy pursuing him on a bike. He had a pink Mohawk and looked like his face had fallen into a tackle box. The boy on the bike had the traditional backwards cap, saggy pants, and a black t-shirt that read, I don’t need no ejukashun.
Janna shook her head. “And that’s who you’re dressing up for! Teenagers.”
3~Teacher In-Services
“It’s like you’re not hearing me, Janna! I’m late! I have to hang up now.” But Janna wanted to talk about Troy—or was it Tony—who had been such a hot salsa dancer last night. “Janna, I’m hanging up now. Love you!”
Fumbling to stuff her phone into her new over-zippered purse, she looked up into the face of a handsome policeman with dark curly hair.
He smiled and saluted. “Officer Ross at your service.”
“Hi.” He’s an eager fellow. Like Barney Fife, but…cute.
“You’re a new face.”
For a moment she was distracted by his bright, intelligent eyes and general rugged look. “Oh yes, new everything. New shoes—not good on stairs—new skirt…” Nikki stopped because he was grinning even wider. Changing the subject swiftly, she said, “Strict tardy policy, huh? Police at the doors.”
Officer Ross chuckled. “Just security detail. I’m the campus cop. They want me here today so I can learn all the new faces.”
“Ah, hence the comment, ‘new face’.”
He nodded almost like a bow. “Hence the comment. If I didn’t meet you today, I might arrest you under suspicion of being some kind of psycho out to do harm to the kids. Probably stabbing them with those high heels.”
Nikki looked down at her shoes. “Yes, well, that’s me. I’ll be slashing their English papers until they drip blood.”
“Red ink.” He winced through a smile.
“Actually, I’m thinking green ink. It won’t feel quite so much like a massacre. At least I hope not.”
“Good idea. They can call it alien blood.”
“Right.”
“Or snot,” he added, opening the door.
Nikki studied his face. It was cheerful, and a little scruffy on the chin with black curls at the brow. He looked close to her age, so he must be fairly new, too.
“They really need a cop at Riverview? I thought this was the proud crowd.”
“Yeah, well, a lot of them are packing plastic,” he said shaking his head with mock concern. “You’d better hurry. You’re late, Miss...”
“Fallon. Nikki Fallon.”
He touched the brim of his hat in a courtly salute again and ushered her in.
Nikki entered the building and took a deep breath. Even this back entry from the parking lot had a two-story ceiling with hanging modern art and fancy lighting. Everything gleamed with the pretentious display of a mid-sized rural town trying to play Big City. Riverview may be rich, but it was still more rural than it want
ed to admit, and it had its share of wealthy farms in the district. Still, it beats working at Main Street Market.
She clicked down the empty halls thinking how much better it would be when the noisy students muffled the sound that echoed now through the vaulted spaces. Gayle Kendall, the department head who had interviewed her for the job two weeks before, had given Nikki a tour of the building, and it only took her two wrong turns to find the library. Fortunately, it was carpeted, so she entered quietly.
“Ah, there she is!” boomed a jovial voice. Principal Geoffreys stood like a superhero with his fists on his hips, his chest puffed out, and his legs spread wide. It wasn’t a very convincing look for him, unless he was going deep undercover.
“Everyone, this is Nikki Fallon, our new English 9 and American Lit teacher. She comes highly recommended by her student teaching mentors at Clarksdale, if we can believe anything they say.” A ripple of boss-appeasing laughter spread through the room, and Nikki scanned the faces of her new colleagues.
Colleagues. That sounds so much fancier than co-workers.
“Would you like to tell us all a little about yourself?” Principal Geoffreys stepped back, giving Nikki the floor. She glanced around the brightly lit room. The round tables at which the other teachers sat looked new and shiny, unmarked yet by territorial or love-struck teenagers. Plush couches invited cozy reading, and a bank of computers for research flanked either side of the librarian’s desk. No doubt those had been donated by the microchip plant that fueled the local economy. More modern art hung just below the massive central skylight. Nikki wondered if hanging student-made banners for school spirit was against the design code.
An inordinate amount of jewelry glittered in the room. This place was rich. She was grateful again for Janna’s help accessorizing, even if it made her feel a little like a Christmas tree.
“Um, well… I grew up in the tri-city area and then came out to Rakefield to attend Trench College.” A movement in the back distracted her. It was Officer Ross sidling along the shelves to stand guard near the water fountain. He tossed his chin in a friendly way and she wondered if he got paid a lot, too.
