Teaching Ms. Riggs

by Stephanie Beck

  “What? No, well she’s cute, but she had a couple of bags the other day at the store, so I gave her a ride to her apartment.”

  “I heard you gave her a ride yesterday too,” Thomas said with a smirk.

  The joys of living in a small town, Mark thought as he reached for the paper only to have Thomas snatch it back. “She’d gone to visit someone at the nursing home, and we both finished up at the same time,” Mark explained.

  “Riigghhtt. Did you know she’s a widow?” Thomas asked, still holding the paper out of his reach.

  “Which means she’s single and I don’t have to fight her off with a stick when she jumps me for bringing her ice cream to her house.” Mark hoped he sounded sarcastic, because the comment she’d made about his butt still crept into his thoughts more than occasionally. “Come on, I just met the woman and honest to God, how many women have I brought home?”

  “We aren’t here in the summer,” Thomas pointed out.

  “That’s true, and even when you’re nowhere in sight I still strike out. It’s as if the scent of a hormonal, cranky teenager and one right on the cusp of adolescence hangs in the air, and acts like chick repellant.”

  Mark had missed the back-and-forth with Thomas. The boy was smart and a joy to be around.

  He adored his niece and nephew, but the situation was complicated. That made any serious talk or thoughts of Ben something that required much more time than he’d given it. He wasn’t about to bring in a woman who wouldn’t understand, and frankly he didn’t have the time to date.

  “Yeah, like the cow poop isn’t enough to keep the women away,” Thomas teased right back and finally handed over the paper. “Do me a big favor and don’t knock her up your first time out. All the guys like her as a teacher, and you know babies make chicks crazy.”

  “Who tells you this stuff?” Mark demanded, laughing out loud. “I’m going to remember all of this crap for your wedding toast in ten years, and it’s gonna be a doozy.”

  Thomas laughed back, the threat an old one but a good one. So far Mark had potty training, little league, puberty and early thoughts on the opposite sex as speech fodder.

  He left Thomas to finish his homework and headed to the kitchen. He grabbed the old phone hanging on the wall and pulled it to his office slash laundry room, the cord long enough for him to sit at his messy desk with it. He probably should have bought a cordless one years ago, but he liked his old trusty one that worked even when the power was out and never had to be recharged.

  “Leave me alone! I’ve talked to the police here, and they will find you, so just leave!”

  “Whoa, Ben?” The dial tone was back before he got a reply. He dialed again and the call was answered on the first ring. “Hello?”

  “Who is this?”

  “This is Mark Dougstat.” He was careful to talk slowly so she understood in case something was wrong. “You left some ice cream in my truck, and we just found it. I was going to ask when would be a good time to bring it by?”

  “Oh, sweet Jesus, Mark, I’m sorry. I’ve had some prank phone calls spook me a little, and I overreacted. I’m so sorry.”

  “No problem, honey,” he assured her, though the news disturbed him. “A woman living alone in a new city, even if it’s an old one, has to be careful. You’ve called the sheriff?”

  “Yes, he’s looking into it since they’ve been threatening. So ice cream, huh? I was wondering what had happened to it. I can pick it up. I mean, you’ve driven plenty on my behalf.”

  “No, don’t worry about that. I have to run into town tonight for a meeting. Dropping by won’t be a problem if you’re going to be home.” He was already putting on his fresh sneakers, the urge to get to her and make sure she was okay overwhelming.

  “Okay, if you’re sure you don’t mind, I’ll be here.”

  “See you in about twenty minutes?” he offered.

  “Sure, drive safe.”

  Mark was torn between concern and a smile as he walked to the kitchen and hung up. Thomas sat with his sister at the table, both with big bowls of ice cream swimming in chocolate sauce. How those kids stayed so skinny he didn’t know, but his mom said the same about him when he was Thomas’s age.

  “Going to see Ms. Riggs?” Thomas asked, and Kira snickered.

  “Come on, guys, I just met her. I’m actually just going to stop by for a few minutes before I go to my AA meeting at church.” He smacked his dusty hat against his jeans as he dodged the question.

  “Sure you’ve got your meeting, but first you’re going to bring her ice cream and play kissy face and make baby Uncle Marks.” Kira giggled, elbowing her brother in a comradely way.

  “Doubt it. She’ll shoot him down right after he delivers the ice cream and send him packing, so she can wash her hair or check her Facebook page,” Thomas predicted. “Then he’ll be back to sweet talking the cows. How’s Rowena doing?”

  “One of these days,” Mark muttered as he grabbed his keys, “the circus is going to come around, and I’m selling both of you to it. Thomas, watch your sister. Both of you take showers, and I’ll call on my way home.”

  The kids laughed, and Mark smiled at the sound as he headed out the door. Their laughter meant something to him. Something he couldn’t explain. From the first time he’d held Thomas, a wiggly, curious three year old, he’d been in love. The little guy had joined him most days, because Mark’s mom needed a break from the constant duties of caring for her grandchild.

  The memory made Mark’s jaw tighten as he started up his truck and rolled down the windows. His sister wasn’t going to win any parenting prizes, that was for sure. Maybe in science, but as far as Mark was concerned she’d dropped the ball with her kids. With the exception of the time immediately following Mark’s father’s death, Mark had taken care of Thomas and Kira, and he had every intention of finishing the job with them.

  He pulled up to the curb in front of Ben’s apartment and waved to Steven Redick as he drove by in his latest piece of junk car. That guy was bad news but an old friend. There had been a time Steven had helped him drown some sorrows.

  After finding his father crushed beneath a tractor, Mark had let his demons find him and hit alcohol too hard. He’d cleaned up his act after Thomas called him from Paris in tears about his new baby sister not liking her nanny. When the little boy had begged to come “home” Mark had straightened himself up and asked for help.

  Almost ten years sober and just thinking about that time made his insides turn cold. It was good he was heading to a meeting tonight. It hadn’t been too long since he’d reaffirmed his commitment to sobriety, but it had been long enough.

  He shrugged off the hard thoughts as he headed up the sidewalk for Ben’s apartment, ice cream in hand. There was a line between remembering and learning from the past and living in it. God was always opening new windows, and Mark wasn’t going to miss them by not looking.

  The main apartment door opened before he made it to the top of the stairs. He smiled, wondering if God was switching to opening doors for him instead. The thought faltered when he saw Ben. He’d seen her less than twenty-four hours earlier, but she looked ten years older. Her skin was pale, bags were beneath her eyes, and though she tried to smile, he saw right through it.

  The phone calls, he remembered. They must have been giving her more of a hard time than he thought.

  “Hi.” He smiled and offered her the ice cream. He wanted to hug her and tell her everything was okay. Something made him need Ben to be all right.

  “Thanks,” she said and forced a smile. “Um, do you have time for a pop or something?”

  From the way she’d completely closed in on herself, he thought she didn’t really want him to accept. He had the time though, and his curiosity was piqued.

  “Sure, that would be great.”

  She might not want him there, but he had to know what was going on and if he could help. He felt a burst of pride when she opened the main door and motioned him in. He was too emotionally inv
olved with Ben considering their short acquaintance, but even knowing that wasn’t enough to put a cap on what he felt.

  He followed her through the hall to her apartment as she apologized for the mess he didn’t notice at all. Papers sat in neat stacks on the table, but not much else. What he did notice was the lack of…everything.

  There was a sagging couch with no pillows or throws, a tiny TV that looked older than he and Ben combined, and a cheap coffee table. That was all except the microscopic kitchen, where only a table and two chairs sat. The doorless top cabinets showed less than a four person set of mismatched dishes.

  “I’m still working on getting things the way I like them,” Ben explained, putting the ice cream in a freezer, which, he saw held only ice cube trays.

  “I see.” He watched as she pulled out a jug of store brand pop and two glasses. “You were in Chicago, right?”

  “Yes. I went to the University of Illinois in Chicago. It’s a great school, and I liked it a lot. They have an intense chemistry program.”

  “I never made it out of Flathead Falls. My dad and mom helped me buy my place when I turned twenty-three, then with the kids I just never got anywhere else,” he replied and took a seat after she did. He wanted to make her comfortable because she looked ready to jump out of her skin. Such tension…he hadn’t seen someone so on edge in a long time.

  “Well, if you had to choose a place, Flathead Falls is a nice one.” She smiled, not judging or condescending, just friendly he thought.

  She passed him a glass of pop and took a sip of hers. She was still nervous, even if her hands weren’t shaking as badly as they had been earlier. Looking around Ben’s tiny home though, he couldn’t help but make comparisons and follow leads he didn’t like.

  There had to be an ugly reason for her living as she was. Curiosity already piqued from chatting with her before, every meeting he found himself being drawn deeper into her life. He wondered if the circumstances surrounding her deceased husband had anything to do with the modest way she lived.

  “Say, you don’t want to grab some dinner, do you?” he asked.

  She had no food in her freezer, and he’d bet what she’d bought the other day was all she had in her cupboards. That was unacceptable. It might make him late for the meeting, but he had to be sure she was all right.

  “I actually had a dinner meeting at school,” she explained, and he wondered if she was lying. Pride could be an ugly and restrictive emotion. “But thanks for asking.”

  “Of course,” he replied. If she was lying, he wasn’t going to call her on it. Not yet anyway. He wanted more answers, and alienating her wasn’t going to help.

  The phone rang and Ben jumped to her feet. Any color that their discussion had put on her face faded. She looked at him then at the phone with panicked eyes. She was a troubled woman, and Mark hated it.

  “Want me to get it?”

  “No, but um, I should, or they won’t stop.” Her teeth showed wide in the forced smile, a look he’d taken pride in not seeing for the last few minutes. “Excuse me a second?”

  The tiny apartment gave no hope for privacy, so he sat at the table and waited while she lifted the receiver with a trembling hand.

  “Hello.”

  She stayed on the line for a minute, paling even farther while she pulled and rubbed her dark curls just above her ear. Finally, she hung up none too gently and turned back to him with a shaky smile. “Sorry about that. So how’s the football team going to do this year?”

  He didn’t want to let her steer the conversation away from herself, but since he was trespassing on her territory, he let her. He knew fear, had seen it before, had felt it to his core, and he was looking at it again.

  They spoke of mundane things, of the town and his farm and the football team. She started to relax, but when the time pressed close to an hour she started fidgeting with her glass again.

  “Didn’t you say you had a meeting tonight?” she asked when the hour was nearly upon them.

  She was right, but there had to be a reason she was running him off, and he didn’t like it. If she was left alone…hell, it felt wrong to leave her alone. He shook himself. Their short acquaintance didn’t warrant such protectiveness. “Yeah, I suppose I should go. It’s been nice getting to know you, Ben.”

  “Thanks, you too.”

  “We could do this again soon,” he offered. “Maybe get to a movie, dinner?”

  “That is the nicest offer I’ve had in months, and thanks.” Her smile was sad. “Really, but I don’t think I’m ready for movies or dinners with nice men. I’m still getting used to being a widow.”

  He could have kicked himself. Maybe that was one of the reasons she was so uncomfortable. He’d thought they’d flirted a bit the night before, but she might have only been trying her wings. “I knew that. I’m sorry. That was inappropriate.”

  “No, not at all.” She shook her head firmly. “No, it’s not the widowhood I’m getting accustomed to. It’s more the fact Don was killed by his mistress and left me in a ton of debt. It’s not you, it’s me, and I have a lot of issues right now.”

  “Hell.” So much more about the night and her life made sense, even if it wasn’t sense he liked. “Are you serious?”

  She rubbed her palm hard against her forehead and wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Damn. I must be more tired than I thought to have said that. I’m sorry. It’s… Let’s just forget that, okay?”

  “All right. You’ve got a lot on your plate right now, I understand. If you are ever in the mood for a movie or dinner, you’ve got my number. We can keep things friendly and casual if it makes you feel more comfortable. We could bring the kids along. I can always use another set of eyes when wrangling the kids, and an ally when it comes to choosing a movie that doesn’t feature pre-teens singing and dancing. Friends are good, right?”

  “Definitely.” Her smile was less forced but when she shook his offered hand, her palm was cold, colder than it should have been in the heat. She was looking toward the clock again too. “Thanks for bringing back my ice cream.”

  “My pleasure,” he replied. “And really, don’t hesitate to call me. I’m awake late and up early. Plus, I spend most of my time with cows and kids, so I always enjoy the chance to have a conversation with another adult.”

  “Okay, that’s got to be the second nicest offer I’ve had today.” Ben laughed and walked him the three steps to her door. “Drive safe.”

  “Yeah, and hey, you should call the sheriff again if those phone calls keep up.” The advice probably wasn’t necessary, but he couldn’t stop himself from caring. “It’s his job to take care of pricks like that.”

  “I’ll remember that.” She closed the door before he’d turned.

  Ben Riggs was a troubled woman, he thought, taking a moment to let his eyes accustom to the darker entry hall. The tiny apartment and shadowed eyes made much more sense since her slip. Those kinds of closeted issues only led to more trouble.

  Mark took a step and paused. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard the phone ring again; right after a chair had been slid under the door.

  Chapter 5

  “Ben, thank God.”

  She frowned at her school telephone receiver, and for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out who was on the other end of the line. Her study hall period had just started, a half a dozen upperclassmen working on homework diligently in the fifth week of class.

  To tell the truth, she needed the quiet. Between getting her finances in order and the harassment, her nerves were shot. She could handle the debt. She accepted it as the unfair but unavoidable price she had to pay for being obliviously happy those six years.

  It was the stalker who was wearing on her. The calls continued, photos of Ben walking to school had been stuffed under her door, and twice someone had thrown rocks at her bedroom window at two in the morning. The sheriff was helping. He still had patrols in the area, and one of the deputies always seemed to be within five minutes of the building. />
  Something had to give, and she was afraid it was going to be her mind.

  The phone in her hand reminded her the voice hadn’t said anything more. Victoria hadn’t employed outside tormentors yet, but Ben didn’t discount the idea.

  “May I help you?” She was terrified of what the next words would be.

  “Hell, sorry. This is Mark Dougstat.”

  Ben sagged in relief.

  “Mark, hello. It’s nice to hear from you. Can I help you with something?” She hadn’t seen him in a few weeks, and that was for the best. She liked him, but given what had happened to the last man she’d loved…distance was better.

  “God, I hope so. Kira just got home. Kira, my niece?” He sounded desperate.

  “Yes, I remember. She’s nine, right?”

  “Yeah, why the hell do nine year olds have these sorts of issues? She’s nine, damn it. Her backup moms and their families are on vacation together in Hawaii, and she needs female stuff.” She could hear him shudder across the phone. “I wouldn’t have called, but it’s an emergency and I’m out of women to call.”

  “Oh, okay.” The trepidation from the initial call was replaced by curiosity and amusement. “She’s having her period?”

  “God no, the books said that wouldn’t happen for a few years yet.” Mark swore, and she bit back a laugh. She liked this side of Mark that wasn’t so put together. Just as she’d liked the embarrassed Mark at the nursing home. “No, her teacher sent home this notice about undershirts, training bras and deodorant. Thomas stinks. I’ve got that covered and bought stock in the deodorant company, but what the hell do girls use? What exactly does a training bra train what to do?”

  “Gotcha.” She tried hard not to laugh as he sounded more and more frantic. “I’m sure those things are just suggestions.”

  “Yeah, but she’s crying about it. It’s important, and her two best friends are on vacation for another few days and all of a sudden she’s gonna be the only girl without this stuff. Can you help? Do you have time tonight or this weekend to run to KC? I’ll buy you dinner, movie, diamonds, whatever you want.”