Just One Night

by Pandora Spocks

  ***

  Twelve hours after he’d dropped Danny at the airport, Mac’s new apartment finally more resembled a home than a storage unit. He’d arranged the furniture to his satisfaction. The boxes had been unpacked and broken down. Artwork, while not yet on the walls, was strategically placed around the space and awaiting a more reasonable hour for hammering nails into walls.

  He removed a bottle of beer from the fridge and surveyed the place. It was a nice apartment, all high-end fixtures and tile floors. The balcony off his bedroom offered a view all the way down Clematis to the Intracoastal Waterway. He’d lived in a decent apartment community in Tampa, but the increase in salary from his new job had allowed him to raise his standard of living, a fact he was determined to appreciate.

  Beer in hand, he wandered into the bedroom with its mahogany king-sized bed, now neatly made and covered with a steel-grey duvet. A large matching dresser stood opposite the bed. Only one object rested on top. He crossed the room and picked up the photo of himself with Katie. When he’d seen it in the ship’s photo kiosk, he’d had to have it. It was now encased in a blue hand-painted ceramic frame he’d bought at an artsy shop down the street. He’d discovered the boutique when he’d gone in search of lunch earlier that day.

  He took the photo and the beer out onto the balcony and, leaning against the railing, he gazed out over the city scene below, lights from bars and restaurants twinkling against the summer twilight. The distant sounds of music and conversation lightly drifted his way, and he watched as a large sailboat navigated southward past the city. “I’d love to explore this place with you,” he said to the Katie in the photo. “We should have given ourselves a chance.”

  Day 6

  When Katie awoke on Saturday morning, Jayma was already up and dressed. “We’re back in Tampa,” she informed Katie, her voice tinged with regret.

  Katie sat up and peeked out the window. Sure enough, they were right where they’d started. Reluctantly, she showered, dressed, and packed her things.

  After disembarking, they made their way back to the parking garage where Katie’s beat-up blue Honda Pilot was parked. Bags loaded, Katie drove the group to the airport. She pulled to a stop at the Departures curb and got out, helping everyone with their luggage. Then hugs were given all around.

  “As usual, chicks, it’s been fab,” Michelle said. “Maybe Jayma’s right. Maybe we’ll do Vegas next year.”

  “Maybe,” Katie returned. “You guys take it easy. Let’s keep up with how things are going. We can private message—everybody doesn’t need to know our business.”

  “Good idea,” Chelsea said. “Heartbreaker business is ours.”

  “Thanks for the ride, Katie,” Jayma said. “Next time you’re in Nashville, let’s go to lunch.”

  “Next time I’m in Nashville, we’re going for drinks,” Katie laughed. “Maybe I’ll find a cowboy.”

  Katie got back in the car and waved as the others entered the airport. She checked her watch as she drove away. If everything went well, she’d be home before dinner time. Tucker would be glad to get back to his own digs. The eight-year-old yellow lab was staying with Margo, Katie’s landlady and next door neighbor. Maybe they’d head to the beach on Sunday. Tucker always loved chasing a ball and romping through the surf.

  Unknowingly following the same route Mac had taken only two days previously, Katie made her way back to West Palm Beach, following the signs to downtown, and turning south to travel just out of the downtown area to her rented cottage across from the local art museum. As she drove into the historic neighborhood, she felt the familiar sense of home, and the feeling grew as she pulled into her driveway and turned off the car.

  The white stucco cottage with its green striped window awnings had been built in the twenties and had been her home for the last six years. It was owned by Margo, who lived next door, the keeper of Tucker anytime Katie was out of town, which wasn’t often.

  Margo’s door opened and Tucker came bounding up to Katie, tail wagging furiously. “I don’t think he missed you at all,” Margo joked.

  “Hey there, bud, I missed you too.” Katie bent to ruffle the dog’s ears and plant a kiss on the top of his head.

  “So how was the cruise?”

  Katie beamed. “It was fantastic. I didn’t want to come home.”

  She dug into her bag for the thank you gift she’d brought back for Margo, colorful clay vase from Mexico. Then she let herself and Tucker into the house before returning to the car for her bags. She poured kibble into Tucker’s bowl and was just looking through the mail when her phone rang. It was Cindy, a colleague from work.

  “Hey, Cin, what’s up?”

  “What’s up yourself? How was the cruise? You are back, right?”

  “Just got back. I mean, literally. And the cruise was fabulous. Suffice it to say, I’m still not ready for school to start.”

  “I know. But we have a couple of weeks, yet. Did you hear the news?”

  Katie frowned. “I don’t know. What news?”

  “Madeleine took a new position with the district.”

  “What?! When? And what new position?” Katie’s eyes were wide.

  “Word is that she knew at the end of the school year and wasn’t allowed to say. She’s going to be an assistant superintendent down at the central office.”

  “Wow!” Katie shook her head. “That’s really unexpected. So who will be our principal?”

  “Some guy. His name is Dr. Malcolm Coleman. He’s coming from Tampa or someplace.”

  “Dr.? Sounds like a prick. Has anyone met him yet?”

  “No. He starts on Monday. Listen, a bunch of us are getting together at Duffy’s tonight. Want to come?”

  Katie sighed deeply. “Like I said, I literally just walked in the door. I’m totally exhausted. I’ll probably make it an early night. Besides, I’m taking Tucker to the beach tomorrow to make up for being gone all week.” She looked to Tucker who happily wagged his tail.

  “Alright, chica, glad you had a good time. By the way, when do you plan to go in and set up your classroom?”

  Katie sighed again. “I don’t know. I may try to go in on Wednesday. If I can get the furniture set and the library put together I’ll feel less stressed about the whole thing.”

  ***

  Mac slept late on Saturday, then spent some time going over emails from his new employer. He was scheduled to meet his immediate supervisor at 9:00 on Monday morning. As he considered his choice of clothing for the first day, a flutter of nerves settled into his stomach. He was truly starting over.

  Later, he took himself for a run along the waterfront. He’d made a concerted effort to avoid thinking about Katie, but as he ran his mind wandered back to her fascinating eyes that shifted color, her happy, open face when she’d let down her guard, the way her face had closed, as if a visible shade had been drawn when he’d told her he was leaving the cruise in Mexico.

  “Dammit,” he muttered aloud. She would have gotten back to Tampa that morning. Flown back to God knows where. He’d actually considered returning to Tampa and meeting the boat when it returned. But having experienced what it was like to have a stalker, he decided against it. Besides, Katie had been clear about going their separate ways. Still...

  Day 7

  Katie took care of a week’s worth of laundry on Sunday morning. Later, she loaded Tucker into the car and drove the few miles north to the portion of Juno Beach that welcomed dogs. For a time she tossed a tennis ball for the large yellow dog to chase. Then she found a place to spread out a blanket and she sat watching the waves. Tucker happily curled up beside her and promptly fell asleep.

  Digging her toes into the cooler sand below the surface, Katie gazed out over the water and, not for the first time, regretted having been so stubborn with Mac. It wouldn’t have hurt anything to exchange phone numbers. Not like anything would come of it. But at least we could have touched base. She sighed deeply. This! This is why you’re still alone.

  *
**

  Mac also used Sunday to take care of domestic tasks. He was happy to find a Publix not far from his apartment and he stocked up on necessities for the week. An avid amateur cook, he was anticipating making use of the chef’s kitchen in his new place.

  After that, he did laundry and made sure that his navy slim-fit suit and white dress shirt were pressed and ready to go for his first day.

  Later in the evening, he considered going down the street for a beer and a burger. Instead, he found baseball on television. I suppose I have to become a Marlins fan now, he mused as he watched his beloved Rays.

  As was becoming habit, he wondered what Katie was doing. He wondered if she thought of him. Recalling their chemistry in bed, he figured it was a good bet that she did. He knew that she was all he could think about when his need for release came calling. And he was glad he had a name to put with her beautiful face and her luscious body.

  Mac shook his head distractedly and returned to his game.

  Day 8

  Jitters woke Mac before his alarm, which was set to go off at 7:00. By 8:30, brown leather messenger bag over his shoulder, he headed down to his car in the parking garage, having showered, shaved, and dressed in the clothes he’d prepared the previous day. It was shaping up to be a hot summer day and he questioned the wisdom of wearing a suit and tie. But it was his first day. After that, he could probably relax a bit.

  He still arrived ten minutes early so he circled back to a Cuban restaurant he’d passed and bought himself a thick, black fortifying cup of coffee. By the time he returned, his boss, Dave Viera, was just stepping out of his huge black Navigator.

  “Dr. Coleman, so glad you’re here,” the shorter, slightly balding man greeted Mac.

  Mac reached to shake his hand. “Thanks so much.”

  The shorter man waved a hand toward the large building of beige stucco. “Welcome to Starfish Shores Elementary School.”

  Mac followed him to a sidewalk flanked by large rectangular planters made of brick. Filled with sandy soil, the planters were completely bereft of any plants and Mac made a mental note to ask about them. Together, the two men approached the double front doors and Viera pressed the security button. Almost immediately a buzzer sounded and they were admitted into the main office.

  “Good morning, Dottie,” Viera greeted a short plump woman with a blonde pixie haircut and a twinkle in her eye.

  “Good to see you, Dave,” the woman returned, but her eyes were on Mac.

  “Dottie, this is Dr. Malcolm Coleman. Dr. Coleman, this is Dottie Miller, the secretary here at Starfish Shores. She’s pretty much of an institution around here.”

  Mac grinned and shook hands with the woman. “It’s good to meet you.”

  She returned his smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Dr. Coleman. Welcome.”

  Viera clapped Mac on the shoulder. “Well, I’m leaving you in good hands. I’ll see you tomorrow at the principals’ meeting.” At the door he turned. “See you later, Dottie.”

  She waved him off. “Alright, let’s see about helping you get settled, Dr. Coleman.” She turned and Mac followed her down a short hallway off the main reception area of the office.

  “I’d be happy if you just called me Mac,” he told her. “This Dr. thing is kind of a new development. I don’t quite have my head wrapped around it yet.”

  She chuckled. “I’m happy to call you Mac. Dr. is a bit stuffy for me, too.” She stopped and opened a door. “Now this,” she gestured, “is your office.”

  Mac stepped in and stopped, eyes wide.

  Dottie giggled. “I know. Your predecessor was fond of pink. The painters are coming tomorrow. One of your first jobs is to pick a color. By the time you get back from your meeting tomorrow morning, it will look much better.”

  Mac turned and smiled. “Good. I panicked for a minute.”

  “Now after the painters leave, we can arrange the furniture any way you like. We can also get new pieces from the warehouse or you can bring your own, whatever you want to do.”

  He surveyed the large cherry desk with its matching credenza. He had a couple of leather club chairs at his apartment that would go nicely in the space. He nodded his head thoughtfully. “This will do just fine. Thanks!”

  Mac set his messenger bag on the desk. “Can I ask you something?” She nodded. “What’s up with the empty planters out front?”

  Dottie shrugged. “They’ve been empty for as long as I’ve been here. Nobody ever bothered to put anything in them.”

  Mac nodded thoughtfully. “That needs to change,” he murmured almost to himself.

  Dottie squinted an eye and watched him for a moment. “I read your dissertation, you know.”

  His eyes widened. “You did?”

  She nodded sagely. “I’ve been here for more than twenty years. I’ve seen staff come and go, teachers and principals alike. This school is kind of my baby. And I wouldn’t want just anybody in here. It’s a tough school with a rough population. Our kids come from poverty and violence and addiction. I was impressed by your study, by the innovations you made. I think you’ll be a good fit.”

  Mac’s smile was genuine. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

  “I also read your article in the Education Journal. The one about the ‘broken window effect’ and I happen to think you’re spot-on.” She nodded, satisfied. “Yes sir, I think you’re just what we need around here.”

  “Now,” Dottie shifted gears, “I’m going to call for Mr. Johnson, our head custodian, to give you a tour of the campus, and when you come back, I’ll have the rest of what you need for today.”

  ***

  Katie spent a lazy Monday sleeping late and watching daytime television without bothering to get dressed. Soon enough, she’d be back in the thick of things once again, and she relished the luxury of lounging in her pajamas. Occasionally, her gaze drifted to the pile of boxes in the corner of her living room. She’d hit all the back-to-school sales to stock up on composition books, spiral notebooks, glue sticks, scissors, crayons, and all the other necessary supplies. She knew from experience that she couldn’t depend on families to supply them for her students. There were also materials she’d ordered online: posters, chart paper, markers, stickers, and the like.

  I really should hit work this week, drop off all this stuff, at least get my furniture moved. She sighed. Although she loved her job, she wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye to summer. I told Cin I’d be there Wednesday. I just need to bite the bullet, get in there, and then enjoy the last couple of weeks.

  ***

  After an hour-long tour of the school, Mac returned to his office. The building was older and in need of a little TLC. There were areas that needed painting and the exterior needed a bit of landscaping help. These he’d noted on his clipboard as the tour progressed.

  He’d noticed that several teachers had already returned to set up their classrooms, despite the fact that they would never be paid for their time. That was encouraging, he decided. He knew that the school had traditionally been low-performing. It was the kind of place that needed a caring staff. If Dottie was any indication, they were in good stead.

  “You’re back. Good,” Dottie said as he entered his office. It was connected to hers by a pocket door. The tiny dynamo bustled in with a stack of manila folders. “Now,” she began as he sank into his black leather executive chair, “this is the data that you’ll need for tomorrow’s meeting.” She placed the folder on the desk.

  “This,” she waved another folder at him, “is the budget for this fiscal year. You can see how it all breaks down, and then see what’s left for other expenditures, salaries, that kind of thing.”

  “These are resumes. You need to fill five teaching positions, and interviews start tomorrow afternoon. The resumes are in order of the interviews.” Mac took the folder from her and placed it beside the other ones.

  “Here is a current staff list detailing positions, and I’ve also given you a staff directory. You know, addresses, phone
numbers, emails and that.”

  “This,” she held up a book, “is last year’s yearbook. I figured you might want to get a jump on putting names to faces. And I’ve marked with sticky notes those staff members who aren’t returning.”

  Finally, she handed him a stack of paint color samples, bound by a metal ring. “And, unless you’re in love with cotton candy pink, I’d suggest that you pick a new color so I can tell the painters.”

  Mac leaned back and exhaled forcefully.

  “I know. It’s a lot. But just take it a little at a time. You’ll get the hang of everything.” She hooked a thumb toward the door. “Across the hall is a fancy coffee maker the PTA gave us last year. There are pods in the drawer underneath. Relax and make yourself at home.”

  With that, Dottie bustled back to her office to answer the phone. Mac gave a low whistle and decided that he’d get some coffee before he tried to dive in. First, he chose a pale slate blue paint for his office. Then he spent the next couple of hours going over the data he’d need to present at the principals’ meeting the following morning.

  Around noon, Dottie returned to his office with a bag in her hand. “Lunch is on me today, in honor of your first day,” she announced, smiling.

  Mac ran a hand through his dark hair and looked at the clock, amazed. “I had no idea it was this late. Thanks so much! I’m buying lunch tomorrow.”

  As he settled in at his desk to eat the sub Dottie had ordered, his eyes strayed to the yearbook. He took a bite his sandwich and flipped through the pages, finding photos of a diverse population of smiling children. The biggest portion of the book was comprised of posed student portraits and arranged by grade, but his favorites were the candid snapshots. There were children reading, some participating in field day events, some performing science experiments. The adults pictured looked happy and confident. Mac had a good feeling about his new assignment.

  He took another bite and flipped a few more pages, stopping cold. There smiling back at him with sparkling hazel eyes was a familiar red headed face. She was surrounded by laughing children and they appeared to be working in a garden. He scanned for a caption. Ms. Katherine Parker, First Grade.