Forbidden: A Student Teacher Romance

by Amanda Heartley

  “It’s so nice to meet you, Kellan,” she said in a small, girlish voice I hadn’t heard in years. “Carla has told me so much about you.” Kellan chuckled, embracing her warmly and winking at me over her shoulder. I had felt bad about the way I’d treated him after our encounter on the beach, and had thought introducing him to my mother would be a good way to undo some of the hurt I may have caused. I couldn’t help it. I was baffled and confused, battered and bruised as the reality of Roy’s grave situation continued to sink in.

  “All good things I hope,” Kellan grunted as Mom finally set him free and he gave me a quick, curt hug.

  “All good things,” Mom agreed. “All very good things. And let me add how grateful I am that you’ve taken time out of your busy schedule to comfort us in our time of need.”

  He waved a dismissive hand. “Of course. I’ll help as much as I can.”

  Mom blushed and nodded before looking back at me. “It’s very nice of you to introduce us, dear, but I can’t imagine why you’d do it here, at the marina.” Kellan and I shared a nervous glance, before he stepped in a little closer and said, “I’m afraid that’s my fault, Miss Childs.”

  “Please,” she said. “Call me Rose.”

  Kellan nodded and said, “Well Rose, with Roy in the hospital and his boat sitting idle, I thought I might be able to help him by taking it out for him while he’s in the hospital.”

  Mom’s face screwed up a little at the suggestion, the businesswoman in her coming to the forefront. “Are you a licensed captain, dear?”

  Kellan laughed and before he could confess that the only ship he’d ever piloted was a plastic boat in the bathtub as a child, I interjected, “No mom, but Ryan, Dad’s first mate, promised to supervise Kellan here, so they can work together to keep dad’s business afloat while he recovers.”

  It was a strange and brilliant plan, I had to admit, but when Kellan had suggested it, I’d leapt at the chance. With dad’s bills mounting, it would be the perfect opportunity to bring in a little much needed cash. And with Kellan so eager, it felt like the perfect way to keep us both busy while Mom was occupied at the hospital.

  She began to cry almost immediately, soft tears falling down a wrinkled face as I helped her onto the small plastic bench behind us, a weathered seat cushion over a hidden storage space full of hose attachments, extra life preservers and bait and tackle.

  “I’m sorry you two,” she said. “It’s just, with being in that hospital all weekend, this is the first ray of light I’ve had and I guess I’m a little overwhelmed...”

  “Not to worry,” said Kellan. “We’ll take care of all the details, and this way you can focus on getting Roy better and not have to worry about your income while he’s laid up.”

  Mom found a couple tissues in her purse and used them to wipe her eyes. “I can’t thank you two enough,” she said in a weak voice, as if all the fight had just gone out of her. “I’ve just felt so hopeless lately…”

  I sank down on the bench next to her, patting her hand gently. “We’re here for you, Mom. “Kellan and I just want to do everything we can so you can be there with Roy.”

  “This means so much to me,” she said, squeezing my hand back. As if on cue, a young man came bounding down the marina walkway, a faded ball cap crooked on his head, his skin bronzed from the constant sun, and with a Roy’s Retreat Charter Fishing Service T-shirt clinging to his scrawny chest.

  “Mrs. Childs,” he said as Mom stood and wrapped him in the same kind of bear hug she’d just given Kellan. “I was so sorry to hear about Mr. Roy.”

  “Oh Ryan,” she said, letting him go but not without squeezing both hands in her own first. “It’s so good to see you.”

  “Hi Carla,” he said, extending a hand. At that moment I was so grateful for his presence, I swatted it away and hugged him even more powerfully than mom had. “It’s good to see you, Ryan,” I said, before peeling away and nodding toward Kellan.

  “So is this the landlubber who thinks he’s going to steer Roy’s boat while he’s in the hospital?” Ryan teased, shaking Kellan’s hand energetically. Though they were about the same height, Kellan was a good five years older and 25 pounds heavier.

  “I’ll do my best,” he said and it sounded strange to hear the slightest hint of anxiety in his voice. Kellan was so good at what he did back in South Beach, he could hardly relate to modesty. But here he was clearly out of his element and—what’s more—he knew it.

  “We’ll see about that,” Ryan said to Kellan while winking at me. “Come on aboard and let’s get acquainted before we take her out.”

  Kellan looked more than alarmed. “What… now?”

  Ryan gave him a withering glance. “No time like the present, right?”

  “I thought we were just meeting to get oriented,” he blathered as Mom and I shared a private giggle.

  “Oh we’re going to get oriented all right,” Ryan teased, laying it on thick for his new “shipmate’s shipmate”. “Three miles out to sea is where all the action takes place!”

  As Ryan ran Kellan through the paces, Mom and I bid a fond adieu. “I see you’re in good hands, Kellan,” she couldn’t help but teasing as we drifted from the stern of Roy’s 36-foot fishing boat.

  “Honey?” he asked, one of the rigging lines in his hand.

  I couldn’t help but joining in on the fun. “Like mom said Kellan, you’re in good hands.”

  Chapter 26

  Kellan

  “Feeling better now?”

  Ryan stood over me, my face still hanging over the stern – or was it the bow?? – as I leaned back on my knees and dragged a trembling arm across my lips. “Much,” I muttered, somehow finding the strength to climb up into one of the two padded fishing chairs at the back of the boat.

  “Good,” he said, reaching into a nearby cooler and rattling his hands around in a sea of ice before merging with two cold beers.

  “Where did those come from?” I asked before he tossed one at me, narrowly missing my chin before I grabbed it out of midair at the last second.

  He shrugged. “When Miss Carla asked me to meet her at the boat, I figured we might be taking her out for a spin. I took the liberty of stocking your coolers before we set sail.”

  I looked at the beer, surprisingly tempting after my recent – but far from first – trip over the side of the boat to relieve a sudden case of seasickness.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked weakly.

  He cracked open his can and waved it at me, foam splattering across my knee as he sank into the second fishing chair by my side. “Best remedy there is,” he promised. After all the tricks he’d played on me since just after leaving the marina—the fresh bait squid in my fishing cap, raw shrimp in my fishing boats and toothpaste instead of sunscreen—I found it slightly hard to trust him.

  He seemed to sense my hesitance. “If you don’t believe me, Kellan, believe your taste buds. They won’t steer you wrong.”

  I shrugged, figuring I had nothing left to lose. If he was teasing me, I’d just end up puking again anyway and if he wasn’t, at least I’d find a little relief on this nightmare pleasure cruise from hell. Surprisingly, the beer did help. Whether it was the carbonation, the temperature or the alcohol content, my pounding headache and rolling stomach gradually gave way to something a little closer to comfort.

  I noted the boyish look on Ryan’s face. “Are you even old enough to drink this?”

  He chuckled, nodding. “I might’ve dropped out of high school to help old Roy captain his ship, but that doesn’t mean I did it yesterday.”

  I nodded and took another sip of my beer. “How long have you been working with Roy?”

  “Going on eight years now I reckon,” he said with a grin. Despite claiming to be a native Floridian like Carla, Ryan had the slow southern drawl of a native Georgian instead.

  “So you’ve known Carla awhile?” I asked.

  The blush on his face when I mentioned her name made it clear the yo
ung shipmate had a crush on his boss’ daughter. I could hardly blame him. If I’d fallen for Carla’s womanly charms in my mid-twenties, I could only imagine what fantasies a kid like Ryan might have about her plush, ripe womanly body.

  “Long enough to know how much she cares about her stepfather,” he said.

  I nodded. “He must be a great guy.”

  For once, Ryan’s face grew serious. “The best, he insisted. “A real standup guy. You must be okay, too, if you’re willing to captain the ship for the first time just to help pay some of his bills.”

  I chuckled. “That why you’ve been filling all my articles of clothing with raw fish and shrimp?” I teased, watching his blush grow a little redder. “Because I’m such a standup guy?”

  “Just a little tradition we have out on the open sea,” he explained, reaching for two more beers. He tossed the second beer a little more softly this time, and I caught it more easily. We sat in silence for a few moments, my stomach settled enough—or empty enough—so I could finally begin to appreciate, even enjoy, the gently rolling sea that made the ship bob up-and-down.

  We were well beyond the shoreline know, the marina and, in fact, the coastline of Siesta Key itself was a long distant memory. Now all you could see was the unbroken blue water, almost indistinguishable from the cloudless, crystal blue sky.

  “Is Roy going to be okay?” Ryan asked in a voice that showed his tender age.

  I wasn’t sure what to tell him, other than the truth. “He’s not out of the woods yet, and even if he does survive it sounds like the road to recovery could take a while.”

  Ryan shook his head, his can of beer momentarily forgotten. “He and Rose have had such a hard time of it lately, I can’t believe God saw fit to throw any more hardship their way.”

  “What do you mean?”

  His eyes met mine, his looking wide and vulnerable. “Carla hasn’t told you yet?”

  I shook my head. “All I’ve heard is grumblings, and a lot of talk about bills.”

  Ryan nodded, biting his lower lip as he peered out across the open sea, as if looking for answers. “Roy’s health has been failing for some time,” he finally said. “It’s taken a toll on the business and there’s been talk of the bank repossessing this here boat. But you won’t let that happen, right?”

  His question was so sudden and his tone so vulnerable, I felt an immediate lump in my throat. “Of course not,” I lied, having no idea how a male model from South Beach who’d never been on anything bigger than a jet ski—and even then sitting behind a gloriously drunk supermodel at the wheel—could save an old salt’s charter fishing business.

  All the same, Ryan seemed to take me at my word, sinking back into his padded fishing chair as if relieved. It made me wonder how much Carla knew about Roy’s situation, and if her mother was looking to her for salvation as much as Ryan seemed to be looking to me.

  Chapter 27

  Carla

  “Cream and sugar,” Mom said approvingly above the cup of coffee I’d just brought her. “You remembered.”

  I chuckled, remembering our first time in the same hospital cafeteria only a few days earlier and how distant we had seemed then. “I always was a fast learner.”

  She nodded. “That you were,” she said almost absently. It was midday, the cafeteria more crowded and lively than it had been in the middle of that night I first came home. We drank our coffee in silence, each of us lost in our own personal thoughts.

  I watched a young mother a few tables away fuss at her little boy about finishing his juice box, remembering how much simpler life had been once upon a time.

  “Can I ask you a question, Mom?” I ventured when I’d had enough coffee to summon an ounce more of courage.

  She looked back at me with a less-blank-than-usual-lately expression. “Sure honey. What’s on your mind?”

  I stilled my nerves and asked what had been on my mind ever since that first night in their cozy beach shack. “How are you and Roy doing, financially speaking I mean?”

  The blush that quickly rose to mom’s face made it clear her bills were a touchy subject. And yet I’d be remiss in not asking her at all. “Not so well honey,” she said, avoiding my eyes. “Not well at all.”

  She put her coffee cup down and I eased my hands on top of hers. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner, Mom? I could’ve helped you out.”

  In fact, I already had. While mom spent countless hours in the ICU waiting room, I had sorted through her most urgent bills and paid what I could to whittle down the staggering balances. It wasn’t much, at least not until I found out what the status of Miami Models was back in South Beach, but at least it was a start—and would hold off the creditors until Roy got his fishing business back up and running.

  “What does a mother say to her daughter when she needs money?” Mom asked in her tiny girl voice.

  “Carla, I need money,” I teased, making us both laugh dry, joyless chuckles that sounded hollow and cold.

  She shook her head as if I was speaking a foreign language. “You know me honey, my foolish pride would never let me do anything so tasteless.”

  My face burned to think of my lavish lifestyle back in South Beach: the pricey penthouse and staggering grocery bills, expensive wines and sushi and take—out meals six nights a week. To think I’d been living it up while mom and Roy struggled with their own mounting bankruptcy made me sick to my stomach. I pushed my coffee away, knowing its bitter sting would only make my stomach more upset. “I guess if I came home more often, I might’ve known sooner,” I sighed.

  She shook her head. “It only got really bad this year, honey,” she insisted. “Like I said, Roy’s health has been bothering him for some time now and he’s only been taking the boat out a few days a week. It’s just hard to make it with half the income and all the same expenses.”

  I grunted wryly, thinking of all the overhead of Miami Models and how much it was costing me without anything coming in. I shoved the thought away and brought my focus back to my mother. “I’m here now, Mom,” I insisted. “I’m here and Kellan’s here and Ryan’s here and we’ll all do our best to get Roy’s business back up and running and make sure that he—”

  Suddenly a nervous throat cleared itself just to my left and I turned, only to find the pretty black nurse who had been keeping us abreast of Roy’s situation for the last 72 hours. “I’m sorry to disturb you Mrs. Childs,” she said to Mom. “But I know you’ve been waiting for some good news about your husband, and while I don’t want to get your hopes up too high, I think I might finally have some for you.”

  Mom shot out of her chair, wrapping her arms around the young nurse’s neck as they somehow managed to untangle and make it to the elevators before I even stood from my chair. My heart hammered with anxiety as I wondered what passed for “good news” in the ICU and then realized whatever it was had to be an improvement over no news at all.

  Chapter 28

  Kellan

  “What?!”

  I stared back at Ryan, his poor face three shades of green, as he stood on the dock, filling my heart with panic.

  “You’ll be fine, Kellan,” he insisted, voice as gruesome as his complexion. “My captain’s license is in the glove box if the Marine Patrol stops you and if you keep your hat on and your mouth shut, you’ll be fine.”

  “I don’t care about the license. I care about the client who’s going to be here any minute.”

  He shook his head. “It’s some rich housewife and her silly friends,” he insisted before another wave of nausea silenced him and he bent over the dock, launching putrid looking projectile vomit into the sea. I backed away, knowing any argument was futile. The kid could hardly stand up, let alone help me bait and rig half a dozen fishing poles.

  “It’s a pleasure cruise,” Ryan insisted, dragging a pale arm across his thin, green lips. “You take ‘em just offshore, cruise right for a bit, cruise left so they think they’re getting’ their money’s worth, let ‘em cast out a few lines
and the first one to get seasick, you head right back in.”

  I nodded, thinking that did sound like a pretty good plan of attack after all. After all, it was my fourth trip this week and the first three had been fairly uneventful. Despite being nearly 40-feet long, Roy’s Retreat was basically a big couch with engines, floating about the gently lapping sea as fisherman of all shapes and sizes dropped their pre-baited lines to draw just as many variety of fish straight from the depths.

  I could see the attraction, and how a man like Roy—and even a young man like Ryan—might be drawn to a life on the sea. Endless rolling vistas of clear crystal blue, cloudless blue skies, cold beer and warm conversation, what more could a man ask for?

  A healthy first mate.

  “Go on home,” I told him before another wave of nausea might strike. “I’ll do you like you say and take the gals out for a pleasure cruise. Just try to rest up for tomorrow, okay?”

  He nodded before drifting away, shuffling back toward the marina entrance and dragging himself up into his battered blue pickup truck before grinding his gears and lurching away amidst a cloud of oily fumes. He’d already been an hour late, and so I’d done most of the prep work, cutting up bait-fish, icing down the big cooler chests beneath the patio cushions on either side of the boat, hosing down the decks and gassing her up before our quick trip out into the ocean.

  I was just queuing up my favorite local reggae station when I heard the clattering of heels on the weathered dock behind me. I turned to find a stunning creature clad only in a floppy hat, a floral bikini and a sheer black cover up tied loosely around her waist like a skirt. She was in her late 40s, but looked at least a decade younger and was clearly a woman of privilege.

  I smiled, looking past her to find the other three women who had booked a cruise for the day. “The early bird catches the worm, huh?” I teased, offering my hand to help her aboard. She took it willingly and athletically tossed first one leg, then the other, over the side of the boat and onto the deck.