“I don’t believe what I’m hearing. When you first suggested this a while ago—leaving your teaching job—I thought you were kidding.” Asia’s voice shifted from a tone of disbelief to downright anger.
Athena shook her head. “I can’t explain what I’m feeling. And why I feel it’s urgent. But I need to take this risk to challenge myself and to offer my talents to help others. I want to do something meaningful. I’m twenty-eight years old. It’s time.”
“Spare me the sanctified BS.” Asia’s anger bristled from her slender frame. She locked her arms across her chest. “What are you running from?”
Usually she and Asia could finish each other sentences. This time heightened emotions skewed their synchronization. Her sister couldn’t or refused to grasp what she tried to say.
No subterfuge was at play. This move wasn’t an attention-seeking moment. Athena simply wanted her own identity and the space to fail or succeed. Actually, she needed the space to succeed. Her family modeled the picture-perfect unit of success, in career and family. Failing was not an option. Simply, she didn’t know how. And living a life of mediocrity didn’t make her feel any better.
Her grandmother had been an innovator in the education field and her parents were equally prominent in academia. Her father was head of the speech pathology department at the Pennsylvania State College. While her mother worked at the Women’s Education Frontier, a computer billionaire’s nonprofit foundation of top educators studying the role and power of women’s education to slowing down global poverty.
Athena wanted to contribute to the family legacy—after other professional detours—with a natural passion for teaching.
But the bureaucracy, standardization of tests and grandiose plans that weren’t funded left a bitter taste. Politics had entered her school system and she wasn’t having it. Athena wanted out.
“Okay, you’d better start talking,” Asia demanded.
“I’m going to be part of a team of teachers.”
“And this is different from the teaching job that you’re walking away from?”
“I can make a difference in a child’s life.” Athena pointed to herself.
“Let me get the postcard.” Asia rolled her eyes.
“I can keep a child from choosing prostitution or early marriage with education and a chance to step away from a meager future.”
“Don’t get mad at me. You’re the one with the crazy story. You’re quitting teaching to go to…teaching.” Asia coaxed her along with her fingers. “Continue, I can’t wait to hear more.”
“I’ll be the only U.S. teacher. I’m replacing a sudden vacancy that was advertised in the International Teacher Corp.” Athena rushed on, “I’m leaving at the end of the week.”
“Whoa, Athena, does Mom know?”
“She knows that I’ve applied to a couple places…out of town. Well, it’s more like out of the country.”
“Now you’ve really lost your mind.” Asia stomped her foot, a throwback to the early tantrum years. “How can you do this?”
“What on earth is going on in here?” Sara led the charge, as Naomi and Denise followed up the stairs into the room. “This is not the time to fight.”
“We’re not fighting.” Athena braced herself for the onslaught of questions that would fire at her as soon as Asia blurted her alleged betrayal. “Slightly heated discussion, that’s all.”
“Athena has lost her mind and is heading out of the country. She’s going to some foreign place to find herself and help the natives.”
Athena cringed at the thickly laden mockery. “I’m going to teach elementary school kids. What’s the big deal? I’ll be gone for only six months.” She uttered the lie with the quiet hope that Asia accepted the short time frame. Otherwise, news that she would be gone for twelve months to two years would stir another list of questions about her safety and then her sanity.
“Where?” Denise sat on the edge of the bed. She always liked her facts before casting judgment.
“It’s a small island called La Isla del Azur, off the southern tip of the Dominican Republic. Literacy levels have plummeted in the past ten years. Meanwhile, prostitution and recruitment into gangs have skyrocketed. The citizens face a really bleak future. Although tourism is the new industry there, the government has to impart the labor force for their skills. They need people from a variety of careers willing to come there and share their skills.”
“You don’t speak good Spanish, not to get too technical, or any foreign language,” Naomi piped in. Her mood had markedly improved now that they were indoors.
“I speak enough Spanish to help them with reading and to teach them English. I recently bought a foreign language tutorial software program. The one that’s advertised frequently on TV. Also I’ve been taking Spanish classes for several months.”
“Couldn’t you be Joan of Arc here? I’m sure there are some depressed neighborhoods in which you can get all involved.” Asia wasn’t budging from her disapproving stance.
“Joan led an army. I’m not proposing anything lofty like that. I want to be innovative and inspired. I don’t want to deal with my principal’s agenda, putting his needs before the children’s. Frankly I’m tired of misplaced focus that results in children slipping into the potholes of the system.”
“Six months and that’s it, right?” Sara, the nurturer of the group, held her gaze.
Athena nodded, wondering if Sara saw into her soul. Her keen eyes never missed anything. She didn’t exhale until Sara nodded and looked away.
“I’m not thrilled about this, but I’ll support your need to do this,” Sara announced, looking at each soror, long and hard.
Athena had seen Sara use that stoic expression whenever she reviewed a situation, reserving judgment. Each of them had turned to Sara when the stresses of life got to them. She helped—with no conditions attached.
Lying to Sara about the timeline didn’t sit well with Athena. Sara had earned loyalty when she helped Denise with her gambling and Naomi with the ugly side of professional basketball. When she could get Sara alone, she’d share all the details. And she’d have to be prepared for Sara’s honest assessment of her ability to fulfill this job. Athena wasn’t sure that she wanted anyone to deflate her excitement.
“When are you leaving?” Denise stepped into her view.
“Um…next week.” Athena clenched her teeth for their protests.
“We barely have time to plan a farewell party,” Asia whined, baring her teeth in displeasure over Sara’s surrender.
Thank goodness for that. Athena wanted minimal fuss. Her confidence wavered many times. But this was her time to grow without her sister, her family and the heavy-handed presence of her line sisters. This trip served for more than a wish; this was a necessity.
Chapter 2
Collin Winslow waited in the reception area of San Miguel International Airport. Commercial flights at this main airport occurred in the morning and late-afternoon hours. Small private planes, on the other hand, tended to use either of the two smaller airstrips on the island whenever their millionaire owners demanded.
The Stella Maris school project couldn’t afford to use private planes for regular business, and not even emergencies. He had used his connections to get an operating budget from the French Teaching Abroad program. They provided the personnel and some money for his idea.
On this morning’s flight, he expected two important arrivals. A U.S. publisher had donated several boxes of textbooks. The act had required major groveling on his part, but his tenacity broke through their reservation and red tape. The children would have new math and language arts books, a major accomplishment with the growing number of children attending the school. At thirty years old, his dream had come one step closer to fruition. The students on this island would be given an advantage to attend high school, university or an equally bright industrious future.
He looked up at the tiny TV monitors announcing the latest flights. The airline information he was
interested in wasn’t posted.
His other reason for this early trip to the airport had equal importance to the mission. The school’s foundation, located in the U.S., had selected a teacher, which he had approved. There were teachers from around the world who had also committed to working with his developing nation. In addition, a few local teachers were hired because they really knew what was best for their island’s children.
For the U.S. teacher, his excitement measured only halfway on the scale. He’d learned the hard way that most enthusiastic newcomers to his program defected within their first thirty days, heading back to their cushy teaching jobs. But having at least one U.S. teacher was a requirement of the school’s board and foundation.
Maybe it was his gut feeling that caused him to bring the large open-bed truck, rather than the school van. The new hire would have to make do without the comfort of a spacious vehicle because he had to haul the boxes of books and luggage. He could see what she was really made of.
Collin glanced up at the TV monitor again, noting the time displayed in the corner of the screen. The plane was now fifteen minutes late, more than likely held up at the Las Americas International Airport in the Dominican Republic before arriving at its final destination.
Nothing on the island ran according to a set time. His time in the U.S. as a college student at Maryland University and then the beginning of his career as a high school guidance counselor in Prince George’s County retrained his expectations of punctuality—the hurry-up mentality. The transition back to the leisurely pace on his homeland La Isla del Azur took some time to get accustomed. Some days he was sure the islanders’ laidback attitude would be the death of him. But now, several years later, he now marveled at how work could be done without having to rev the nervous system to hyperspeed.
“Here it comes!”
Collin heard the approaching plane at the same time the person sitting next to him called out. Those eagerly waiting for the plane filled the area in front of the viewing windows. Children, as well as adults, waved and called out for their loved ones.
Collin saved his enthusiasm. After all this trouble to find a new teacher, he hoped she’d last a little longer than the last one. The last teacher from the U.S. had come to the island with a romantic view and unrealistic expectations.
He wouldn’t quite label the school compound as simple, but compared to many public and certainly private schools in the States, well, it had several decades to go to catch up with high-tech gadgetry and automatic any and everything. Yet he liked this simple, genuine life and didn’t have much patience for these supposed Good Samaritans who couldn’t adapt.
Minutes later the stairway was rolled to the open door of the airplane. Collin studied the stream of passengers disembarking. He could spot the tourists among the throng. Pickpockets would, too. The visitors’ brightly colored, tropical clothing did nothing to blend them with the locals. The women were a little too put together in their matching short sets, designer shades and stylish purses. The men weren’t far behind in their khaki or navy blue shorts, floral Hawaiian-print shirts and wide toothy grins.
Collin stashed his irritation over the arrival of newcomers. After all, the country had only tourism as its basic economy. Tourism meant jobs. But he wanted the next generation to have the option to enter the industry or not.
One passenger trailed the line of people disembarking from the plane. She handled the stairs as if she had never done it before.
Could be the ridiculous heels, he snickered silently.
The inappropriate shoes were one thing, the suit was quite another, making him want to sweat simply looking at her attire. Hair once contained in a ponytail now fought to escape with loose tendrils spilling out in an untidy explosion. He wasn’t surprised to see the woman wipe her brow many times before her feet hit the tarmac. She must be here on business to justify wearing such uncomfortable clothing. Otherwise the shirt button-down had to go.
But her innocence and overwhelmed look stirred a little sympathy in him. He couldn’t stop looking at her. She’s definitely attractive, he supposed. Hopefully she wouldn’t trip in those shoes or melt before she got to her destination. It would be a shame to damage those shapely legs.
If he had the time, he’d follow through on the prompting of his body’s reaction. But he had no time for mindless flirtation. He studied the legs, again, sliding his view over her hips a few times. Oh, well, time to get to work.
Collin watched the passengers meet their relatives or leave alone in taxis. All, that is, except one. On closer inspection, he realized the lone figure was the woman who didn’t understand the true meaning of the words tropical heat. She looked like a flower wilting under the humidity, in her navy blue skirt suit and wrinkled white shirt with legs—beautiful legs—encased in black uncomfortable heels.
“Athena Crawford, I presume.” He bit down on the inside of his mouth to keep from smiling.
“Yes,” she answered in a breathless, harried whisper.
Her severe discomfort might be enough to prove his prediction of desertion back to the U.S. Maybe he should offer to sit with her until that evening when the plane made its return to point of origin.
Too bad, though. Underneath the fatigue and overall moisture, she could be a beauty, but that was even more of a liability. He needed stamina and independence in his teachers, not thick, long hair that had its own mind or facial features that would cause schoolboy crushes.
The public relations firm the school’s board had hired pushed him to use his good-looking teachers for brochures and public events. A suggestion that almost brought violence. He had enough of the Hollywood types who had personal agendas seeking media attention while holding a baby from a poor nation in their arms. This project meant more to him than turning into a sellout.
“Are you Mr. Winslow?” Her brown eyes looked at him with so much hope. He was glad to offer her relief with a nod.
“Welcome to La Isla del Azur—The Blue Island.” He extended his hand.
“Glad to be here.” Her hand gripped his with a confidence that didn’t match his perception of her exhausted, weakened state.
“Luggage?”
“I have two pieces and the one that I have here.” She glanced down at her feet, where a small suitcase rested on wheels. “I hope that won’t be a problem.”
“Not at all. I’m picking up several boxes so the large quantity required me to bring a truck. It won’t be the most glamorous transport, I’m afraid.”
“I’m fine. I appreciate having you meet me because this is all new to me.” She ran the back of her hand across her forehead.
“Follow me. I’ll take you to the rest of your luggage.” Collin led the way through the bustling airport.
The luggage had been brought into a central location. Unfortunately the carousel didn’t work, but that was the norm.
“Which one?” He looked over the pile of similarly colored cases. People hovered over the luggage, picking through until they retrieved their own.
“The red ones, over there.”
Collin followed the direction to where she pointed. The two matching upright cases bulged. The bright red sticker with thick, black letters warned that the pieces were heavy.
He signaled one of the porters for assistance. Taking out a twenty, he gladly handed it over with further instructions for retrieving the other cargo.
He pointed toward the exit sign. “We can go to the truck and wait.”
They walked through the automatic doors of the airport, leaving the cooler air. The warm tropical morning had settled into place with its heavy-handed presence. Collin glanced over to his new employee to monitor her reaction.
Perspiration dotted the tip of her nose. Equally unsettling was his reaction that sparked to life like a key turned in an ignition of a powerful V-8 engine. Occasionally she licked her lips, a motion that he found disturbingly seductive. His focus rested on the movement and the lingering moisture.
“It will get hotter b
efore midday.”
“Oh.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a crumpled tissue. Then she played with the top button on her shirt.
Collin knew that would do little to stem her body’s cooling. In fact it would take a couple weeks for her body to get used to the humidity and heat. He’d hold the welcome celebration until that time.
“I hate to inconvenience you, but could we stop to get a drink? I’m beyond thirsty.” She licked her lips again.
“Of course. If you wait here, I’ll get you a soda from the vending machine.”
“I’ll go with you. That way I can stand in the shade.” She hurried toward him, stumbling in the process. Her hand shot out and gripped his arm.
His chin brushed against the top of her head as she lurched toward him. Her hair was soft, like a sheer curtain leaving a light scented trail of freshness. He took a step back but what he really wanted to do was step forward.
“Any particular flavor?” he asked. To his ears, his voice sounded thick. He cleared his throat, blaming it on the dusty surroundings.
“Any soda that is clear, please. I try to stay away from dyes, you know, like colas.”
Collin nodded and led the way back into the airport. Pulling out coins from his pants pocket, he slipped the required amount and selected the soda. He handed her the citrus-flavored soda that sported an American brand name.
Only in Paradise Page 2
