“Fin and Chloe?” Mrs. Glover said over the sound of their class talking and laughing—everyone, it felt like, talking and laughing about her and Fin.
And then, no matter how much Chloe didn’t really want to, she ran toward her friends who weren’t really her friends.
“Fin!” Mrs. Glover shouted.
Chloe stopped and looked back.
Fin was running too—past her and everyone else and out of the lunchroom. And he kept running, down the hallway like he was headed for the front of the school and might not stop until he was a long way away from how mean she’d just been to him.
“Call me when you get the chance, Mr. Beaumont,” Kristen said to Law’s voice mail. “I should be available for the rest of the school day.”
She’d checked in with Daphne during third-grade recess, and discovered that things with Chloe and Fin seemed worse today, likely because of Kristen’s meddling. She glanced toward Mallory as she hung up the phone. Mallory was sitting in one of Kristen’s guest chairs, the one closest to her office door, wearing pink scrubs today, covered in a pattern of yellow rubber duckies.
“I thought I was doing the right thing,” Kristen said, crossing the room to her filing cabinet. “But neither of the kids have spoken much all morning, not to Daphne or any of the other students—except for when Chloe lost her cool with her friends at recess. I thought getting her dad to coach would be a good thing.”
“I think you’re in way over your pretty head.” Mallory had been patiently listening for half an hour to Kristen recounting her reasons for yesterday and the success she’d thought she’d achieved. “And considering how tall you are, that’s saying something.”
“Fin looked excited yesterday, didn’t he? It really looked as if Mr. Beaumont had his attention.”
Mallory rubbed a hand down the cute little baby bump that was growing cuter and curvier by the day. She reached behind her to massage her lower back. She was the epitome of a glowing pregnancy, no matter how sick she still got some mornings.
“So, he’s Mr. Beaumont now?” she asked. “When you were educating Daphne about how she shouldn’t doubt the man’s suitability to mentor one of our problem students, I distinctly remember it being Law.”
“He’s a parent and a part of this community.” Kristen slapped a file she’d retrieved onto her desk and sat. “And he took time out of his morning to come down here and let me pester him for a colossal favor. Why shouldn’t I defend him? It was amazing of him, considering everything else he has on his plate.”
“A plate I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been considering quite a bit lately.” Mallory weathered Kristen’s glare, and then she ruined it by smiling. “You wanna tell me how you knew he was the perfect person to help with Fin, or how you knew he’d say yes, even when he looked like he wanted to flip you off for asking? Or why you’re calling him again today, when we don’t know for sure there’s anything wrong with Chloe? Not to mention, isn’t Libby the school’s first point of contact?”
Kristen opened her notes for the finance committee meeting about the cafeteria renovations—ignoring her friend’s very valid, very annoying logic. She closed her eyes, remembering Law’s scathing parting glance when he’d headed off to talk to Fin. She resisted telling Mallory that, for just a moment, he’d also looked as if he’d wanted to kiss her.
She laced her fingers together and opened her eyes, still not seeing, remembering Law’s larger hand wrapping around hers, making her feel dainty and feminine.
You’re never going to be as refined a lady as your mother, her diplomat father had said when Kristen had been in middle school.
She’d just fallen in love with basketball—more than anything else as a way to escape her parents’ toxic relationship. Within five years, her refined mother had left them both, running off with the latest in her parade of boy-toy dealers, an international gigolo this time, never to be heard from again.
You might as well find something else to do with yourself…
The memory of his disappointment in her feminine assets still stung, no matter how much distance she’d put between herself and the utter vulnerability of that moment. She refocused on her hands, remembering the spark of desire she’d seen in Law’s eyes yesterday morning. The warmth of his touch was still with her, eclipsing the insecurities of a long-ago, unwanted girl. It hadn’t lasted more than a second. But the recognition that had passed between them had felt more real, more intimate, than entire relationships she’d shared with other men.
“That’s a nice look for you,” her friend said.
“What?” Kristen smoothed her palms over the file.
“Smiling.”
“I smile all the time.”
“Of course you do. But some smiles are better than others.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You, stumbling out of your comfort zone yesterday, and having no idea how to find your way back inside.” Mallory’s grin grew wider. “Befuddled and frustrated suits you.”
“What I did yesterday was clearly a mistake. Fin’s even more detached than ever, and Chloe—”
“Chloe’s problems aren’t your fault. And neither one of us believes they’re Law’s. And even if they were, it’s not your responsibility to solve them.”
“No. It’s my job. I’m supposed to look out for my students, not to make their lives harder.”
“You were looking out for Fin. You were scrambling to find a solution for a student who even his foster parents can’t figure out. But that’s not my point.”
Kristen stared at Mallory, refusing to ask the obvious question.
“My point is,” Mallory continued, “that your job doesn’t include keeping tabs on a man you’ve never officially met. It doesn’t explain that when we run in the park Sunday mornings, you take an extra lap or two whenever Law’s out on the soccer field. Or why you look like you want to smack Libby Beaumont when she says something nasty about him, or is clearly using her daughter to get back at Law for whatever ax she still has to grind with the man.”
Kristen’s stomach did a panicked kind of flip-flop. “I stay as tuned in to the community as I can, so I can be whatever help I can be, whenever school resources are needed.”
Mallory nodded. “You’re a master at bringing people together for the common good.”
It had been a long year for both of them. Chandlerville had only recently regained its footing after a rocky ten months. Ron Griffin had read the handwriting on the wall after mishandling the fallout from their school shooting. He was moving on, parents and staff were overwhelmingly behind the Board of Ed’s intention to have Kristen take over as principal, and she’d thrown everything she had at the chance to cement her place amidst this amazing network of friends and families.
Working at Chandler was a good life. She’d made it pretty much her entire life. No problem was too great, no solution too daunting, to keep her from tackling it with all the creativity and energy she possessed. She was determined to succeed at being the educator this town deserved, as successfully as she’d pursued her college basketball career.
So how could she have misstepped so badly yesterday?
“It’s in everyone’s best interests that Fin settles in,” she reasoned out loud, “both here and at home with the Dixons. And that Chloe not lose herself completely in the confusion her parents’ divorce has made out of her life.”
“Naturally. It takes a village.”
“Stop patronizing me, Mallory.”
“Stop avoiding the conversation, Kristen. I’m not talking about how you handled that scene on the playground as an assistant principal. I’m talking about what’s going on with you as a woman. There is a difference, you know. At least, there is where you and Law Beaumont are concerned.”
Kristen sighed at her friend, who’d grown up with nothing, literally, and had found it with
in herself to fight for the life she had now—no matter how terrified she’d been of letting herself believe in it. Mallory was just about the least sentimental person Kristen knew. She had been up till now, anyway. And she’d been Kristen’s practical, realistic touchstone, especially since January’s shooting.
Truth be told, there’d been days this year when Kristen had longed to walk away from the confusion and the mess and the mountain of work that had needed to be done to keep the rest of her staff and their students focused and safe. When things were at their roughest, Kristen knew how to keep her head down and keep fighting. But that didn’t mean the stress didn’t affect her. It had been nearly impossible at times not to let her emotions get the best of her.
It was one of the things Mallory had said she admired most about Kristen—that she never crumbled or shirked responsibility. No matter the obstacle, she got the job done. Mallory was the same way, and it took a kindred spirit to tolerate the space Kristen often needed when she was off the clock and longing for the isolation of her private life.
From practically the cradle, she’d learned to separate herself from first her mother and then her father and then her past entirely. Others might find her private life as an adult too quiet, too solitary. But distancing herself from the complications of being too emotionally entrenched in any one thing or person meant she avoided the highs and lows and dramas that families around her—like the Beaumonts—endured. It had worked for her, all these years.
Except since the shooting, her no-frills life hadn’t felt nearly as satisfying. And her recently expanded role in the community was making it harder to turn outward things off once she was home—particularly the longing that had begun to whisper deep inside her, for the day-to-day companionship that most everyone else found so easy to invite closer.
“You want to talk about it?” Mallory asked.
“What?”
“You and Law.”
“There is no me and Law.”
“Of course not.”
“There isn’t.”
“Do you want there to be?” Mallory looked as uncomfortable with the topic as Kristen felt, but she sat forward in the guest chair—as forward as her pregnant belly would allow her. “You seem to understand an awful lot more about him than the rest of the staff, when we’ve all been working in the same school as his daughter and living in the same town as his whole family.”
“I’ve heard enough of what people have been saying to know it’s mostly crap. He’s a good man.”
“You don’t gossip, Kristen. And you never listen to people who do. Except when it’s about Law.”
“I’ve been concerned about Chloe. A lot of people are, the way Libby’s been carrying on.”
“I heard you defending Chloe’s father yesterday, not just looking out for his little girl.”
“I was trying to help. I’d never intentionally do anything to make her situation more difficult than it already is.”
“Of course you wouldn’t. Or Law’s. In fact, I’d say you’re feeling downright protective about both of them.”
“I…” Kristen was pretty sure what she’d been fantasizing about doing with Law since yesterday—since that first Sunday she’d caught sight of him in the park—didn’t fall within the classic definition of protective. She cleared her throat. “I…”
“You’re smitten. I’ve known it for a while. Ever since you heard he was a musician once upon a time, and I swear I saw stars in your eyes. That was your tipping point, after being intrigued with him since he moved to town. From what I’m hearing through the rumor mill, other people are starting to catch on, too, so gird your loins. Things are about to get bumpy. Your interest in him isn’t the only reason you dote on Chloe the way you do, or how you knew Law was the best parent to help with Fin. But it’s a big part of it that you need to start dealing with. Instead, you’ve spent the last thirty minutes of my life that I’m never going to get back talking around your messy emotions for the man—emotions you’re convinced you shouldn’t be having. Maybe it’s time, Kristen.”
“Time for what?” Mallory was way off base. It wasn’t wrong for Kristen not to let the things she felt drive the choices she made—the way her parents had put their needs first every day of her childhood.
“It’s time for you to let someone all the way into your heart,” Mallory said. “No matter how much it scares you to think about trusting someone that much, and maybe being wrong.”
Kristen shook her head. Her entire body was shaking. Evidently her friend wasn’t nearly as off base as Kristen had hoped.
She had never talked about her past, but Mallory had guessed enough to back off when the worst of Kristen’s memories had attacked and put the brakes on practically every other relationship she’d attempted to build since they’d met. Mallory hadn’t judged or asked prying questions. She’d always been there to listen, or just to keep Kristen company when in the last few months being alone had begun to feel far too lonely.
But something had shifted inside Kristen yesterday as she’d talked with Law. Something out of control and dangerous that was refusing to shift back.
“It’s not the end of the world, you know,” Mallory said.
“What?”
“Letting yourself want someone.”
That’s because you’ve never known my world, Kristen almost said, before she remembered just how much Mallory had lost—and won—in her own life.
“It’s…” She grappled for the right words. “It’s ... terrifying.”
Mallory nodded and rubbed a gentle hand across her belly. “Tell me about it.”
Kristen’s answering smile felt bittersweet.
Mallory had fought her way out of the isolation that had kept her safe for so long. Marrying Pete and becoming a second mother to Polly and now having their new baby was her reward. Kristen was happy her friend had found somewhere to belong. But not everyone got their fairy-tale ending.
“I’m not looking for a family of my own,” she reminded them both.
“I know that.” Mallory suddenly looked as sad as Kristen had felt last night, when Kristen had walked into her quiet condo and wished someone else had been there waiting for her.
“I have a job to do,” she said, “figuring out what’s going on with Chloe and Fin.”
“Just keep in mind that Chloe’s been upset for months, and it was already getting worse.”
“Yesterday didn’t help.”
Who knew what the girl’s friends had been saying since her dad’s visit, or what had happened when Chloe had gotten to Law’s place last night, or the damage Libby might have inflicted if she’d heard the rumors about Kristen defending Law to Daphne. And of course Libby would have heard.
What had Kristen done…?
“What would help?” Mallory asked. “Chloe seeing her dad with someone who doesn’t want to make his life a living hell? Her seeing her father smile?”
“Smile?” Kristen remembered again the moments during their conversation when Law had seemed to be enjoying himself. But then there was the scorching look he’d cast her as he’d beaten a path away from the playground. “I’d settle for him not wanting to cut out my spleen when he returns my call.”
“Oh, I’m betting doing something a lot more fun with you might have crossed his mind, no matter how steamed he is.” Mallory smirked. “Don’t tell me you didn’t feel it, too. You may be careful with men to the point that I want to get you drunk before your next date, just to loosen you up.” Mallory held up her hands to stop Kristen from stating the obvious—that she didn’t drink. Ever. “But you’re not blind.”
“No.” Kristen wasn’t blind. But she was evidently a fool when it came to Law. She threw down her pen. Why hadn’t she called Libby, instead of him?
“Don’t dig yourself any deeper into the Beaumonts’ problems,” Mallory said. “Not unless you’re ready to
deal with Law as something other than the father of one of your students. That’s clearly not all he is to you, Kristen. Either disentangle yourself from the man’s life again, or figure out how to do a better job of handling how you feel about him.”
Kristen stared at the cafeteria redesign proposal and began flipping through the folder. Law wasn’t anything to her. She wasn’t anything more to him than a school administrator who had just become a very prominent pain in his ass. There were too many variables, too many things that could go wrong, too much beyond her control, for there to be any more going on than that.
So why was she absurdly aware of the passage of time, of each minute that had gone by since she’d left her ill-advised voice mail?
“I have a meeting at two I need to prepare for,” she said, the pages before her blurring, her thoughts consumed with wondering what Law’s rough yet gentle touch might feel like as he spread his hands all over her body.
“Got it. Conversation over.” Mallory struggled to extricate herself from the chair. “Just know I’m here, if you ever—”
A knock on the door interrupted them. Before Kristen could answer, it swung open.
“We’ve got a problem.” Bethany Adams, the head secretary, rushed inside. “Daphne’s here. Fin Robinson’s run away.”
Marsha Dixon loved Chandler Elementary.
The sound of children growing and learning and enjoying life was a delight every time she was here. It didn’t matter that today she was seeing after one of the most difficult kids she and Joe had taken in.
Well, it almost didn’t matter.
Even after the horror of the shooting in January—when eleven-year-old Troy Wilmington had vented the pain and fear and loneliness that had been eating him up, at the expense of another sixth grader—Marsha hadn’t gone more than a week without being in this place, and relishing every second she got to stay.
Love on Mimosa Lane (A Seasons of the Heart Novel) Page 6
