Twice Shy

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Twice Shy Page 2

by Sally Malcolm


  Joel smiled. He’d sweated his ass off behind the grill at the Summer Carnival last June, but he wasn’t about to complain. He didn’t do negativity anymore. Besides, he didn’t mind; it was all in a good cause. “I’ll help Mr. Snow carry this stuff through, then start setting up.”

  “And you, Ollie, you’re staying too? I’m sure we could use another man on the grill. I’d offer my other half, but he can barely fry an egg.” She laughed, as if her husband’s culinary incompetence was amusing and not embarrassing.

  “Sure,” Ollie said. “But I’ll need to watch the boys. I don’t want them anywhere near the grill.”

  “Your wife’s not coming?” Jackie peered around as if a woman might be lurking in the bushes. “Or is she working?”

  “Um…” Ollie’s eyes met Joel’s, twinkling in amusement, and Joel had to repress an unprofessional snort. He doubted many people mistook Ollie for straight. “I don’t have a…a partner right now.”

  Silence.

  Joel dived into it before Jackie jumped in with both feet. “There’ll be plenty of kids running around, and plenty of parents to supervise—if you want to stay, that is.”

  Ollie flashed him a grateful smile. “Thanks, I… Sure, why not?”

  Joel figured he must be tired of fielding questions about Rory and Luis’s parents, especially in front of the kids. That explained his gratitude.

  It didn’t explain why Joel was so pleased he’d decided to stay.

  Chapter Two

  It was sweaty work behind the grill, but Ollie didn’t mind. He and Mr. Morgan got into a good rhythm of cooking and serving, and most importantly Rory and Luis were having a ball, chasing about with a pack of kids on the grass. Romping like puppies. They didn’t have much space in the apartment, so he was glad to see them having fun outside. Not that he didn’t take them to the park and the beach to burn off their energy, but he found the sight of them having fun in school pleasing. School hadn’t been a bundle of laughs for him, so it was important that the boys had a better experience.

  “They’ll sleep well tonight,” Mr. Morgan said, cutting open another bag of burger buns.

  “From your lips to God’s ears.”

  Morgan smiled but his gaze was fixed on the kids, their shrieks and laughter rising over the tinny music buzzing from the speakers Jackie had rigged up next to the hall door. He was a handsome man, older than Ollie. In his early thirties, maybe? The suit he wore looked way too expensive for the classroom and entirely unsuitable for grilling. Ollie figured he hadn’t had time to go home and change after work. The light charcoal of his button-down shirt, rolled up to reveal strong forearms, brought out the blue in his dark gray eyes. His hair was cut short on the sides and swept back on top, glossy, dark and very straight.

  Unfortunately, his hair wasn’t the only very straight thing about him.

  No, Ollie corrected himself, fortunately.

  The last thing he needed was a crush on a teacher, not when he was supposed to be passing himself off as a responsible parent. Besides, between work and the boys, he barely had time for laundry let alone love. Or even lust.

  Anyway, Mr. Morgan was no doubt happily married with kids of his own. He looked the type, but when Ollie slid a surreptitious glance at his left hand, he saw no ring. Starting to flip the next row of burgers on the grill, Ollie said, “You have kids?”

  There was a telling pause before Mr. Morgan said, “No.” When Ollie glanced up, he saw Morgan’s gaze slipping away as if he was avoiding his eyes. “My wife wasn’t keen and then… Well. Things didn’t work out between us.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” And not only about the wife.

  Morgan shrugged. “I see a lot of kids at school, so…”

  “And, hey, you can go home at the end of the day and have a beer in peace. Man, there are days…”

  “I guess so.” Morgan smiled when he caught Ollie’s eyes. He wanted to ask something, Ollie could almost hear the question in the air between them. People always had questions about the boys. But, to his credit, Morgan only said, “How are those burgers doing?”

  “Almost there.”

  They spent the next twenty minutes dealing with a rush of parents arriving after work, chatting and laughing with each other as they chowed down on their burgers and watched their kids play on the grass. New Milton was a nice town. Not too fancy, with an easy-going vibe and a growing reputation as LGBT friendly. That was in no small part due to the high-profile wedding between TV actor Finn Callaghan and his musician boyfriend, Josh Newton, which had happened here last summer, followed by this year’s opening of ‘Callaghan’s Majestic Hotel’, which specialized in same-sex weddings.

  And which happened to be co-owned by Luca Moretti.

  Luca was the main reason Ollie had moved to New Milton after the custody case had finally been settled. All he needed to do now was pluck up courage to pay the guy a call. But he was in no rush, he wanted to give himself time to figure out how to make the approach naturally. And that was yet another reason he was not in the market for a relationship. Or even a hookup. Life was complicated enough right now.

  Didn’t mean he couldn’t look, though.

  He glanced at Mr. Morgan, chatting with one of the moms, and took a moment to admire the way the sun gleamed in his glossy hair. It was very dark, almost black. Yes, an extremely handsome guy. Ollie suddenly became aware of eyes on him; Morgan’s friend was watching him with a smiling look and Ollie flushed. Great. Caught checking out the teacher.

  “You must be Ollie Snow?” the woman said, her smile spreading from her eyes to reach her lips. She was petite and pretty, with a cute crop of finger coils framing her face. They bounced as she reached over the table and offered her hand to shake. “I’m Alyssa.” She spoke with a hint of Caribbean in her accent. “Alyssa Deveaux.”

  Ollie recognized her name from Facebook. “Co-chair of the PTA, right?”

  “For my sins. And I swear, this is the last year.” She gave Ollie an appraising look as they shook. “You seem young and full of energy. I’ll keep you in mind for next fall.”

  Morgan laughed. “Recruiting already, Alyssa? It’s not even September.”

  “You think I’m gonna let Jackie talk me into this again next year? Uh-uh. Unlike her, I do actually have a day job.” But she was smiling as she spoke, taking most of the sting from her words. “But, Ollie, I hope you’ll come along to our first meeting next week? Lord knows, we could do with some fresh blood.”

  Hard to remember that only two years ago he’d been working on his master’s and looking forward to starting a prestigious internship. But this was his life now. “Is it in the evening?” he hedged, trying not to sound like he was looking for an out. “Because I’m a single parent…”

  “You need a babysitter? My eldest is sixteen and as sensible as you can be at that age. Nia does a lot of babysitting around here.” Maybe she saw the raw fear in his eyes, because her expression softened. “Cam will be home, too—he’s my husband—so if Nia has any problems, she’d give him a call and he’d be right over.”

  “Okay, well… Thanks.” He’d never used a babysitter, never left the boys in the evening, and could already hear Ruth Palmer’s voice in his ear: Is that suitable care for my grandchildren? He shook the words away. “I’ll certainly think about it, thank you.”

  Alyssa smiled, opened her mouth to say more but was drowned out by a squeal of microphone feedback as the music abruptly cut off. “Uh-oh,” she murmured under her breath. “Here she goes.”

  ‘She’ turned out to be Jackie Olson, making a long and rambling speech about her time in the PTA and how marvelous it was and how marvelous it would be if any of the marvelous new parents wanted to join the marvelous committee. Ollie thought Alyssa’s direct recruiting technique was probably more effective.

  Mr. Morgan touched his shoulder. “I’m going to start clearing up.” With a nod to Jackie, he said, “This could go on a while.”

  “I’ll help. These are the last
of the burgers and they’re just keeping warm now.”

  Between them they piled all the empty packages, mayo and ketchup bottles, into the sacks Jackie had provided—sorting out the plastics from the trash for recycling. When they were done, he followed Morgan back around to the front of the school where the dumpsters were hidden behind a neat wooden screen. The little space behind it smelled of trash and cigarettes.

  “This is where the smokers hide out,” Morgan said, making a show of wrinkling his nose.

  “Classy.”

  He laughed. “Right?”

  It was a nice laugh, gentle and reassuring. The kids must love him. “I quit a couple of years ago,” Ollie said. “After I took on the boys.”

  “Good for you.” Morgan opened the dumpster and Ollie swung his trash sack up and inside. “I guess I’m lucky. I never started.”

  “No, I don’t suppose you did.”

  Morgan gave him a curious look. “What makes you say that?”

  “Oh. Nothing. I mean, only that you seem very…wholesome.”

  “Wholesome?”

  “That’s not an insult or anything. I just mean you seem the sensible type. Too sensible to start smoking at sixteen, that’s for sure.”

  “Wholesome and sensible?”

  “There are worse things to be,” Ollie said, shoving his hands in his pockets. Flighty, reckless, irresponsible—to name but three of the many epithets leveled at him during the custody hearing.

  To his surprise, Morgan turned serious. “I actually can’t argue with that. Sensible and boring are kind of my watchwords these days.” He nodded toward a white car sitting in the parking lot. “Help me carry the recycling over? They don’t collect from the school, so I put them in my recycling at home.”

  “See?” Ollie teased. “That’s both wholesome and sensible.”

  “I’ve learned there’s a lot to be said for both.” He smiled ruefully at whatever expression he saw on Ollie’s face and popped the trunk. “I wasn’t always an elementary school teacher, you know...”

  “No?” He found himself smiling too as he dropped the recycling inside and, after Morgan locked his car, turned to walk back to the sports field with him. “Let me guess. You’re a retired spy? Secret agent?”

  Morgan laughed. “Oh, way darker than that.”

  “Really?” Ollie cocked his head, considering. “Politician? Ooh, I know—you’re a former Mafia Boss in witness protection.”

  “Hmmm… try former investment banker.”

  “Wow. That really is dark.”

  “Told you.”

  They slowed as they reached the corner of the school building, the low September sunshine spilling over the trees and spinning the summer-dry grass into gold. Ollie spotted Rory racing about with his friends, Luis toddling along behind, their laughter rising over that of the other kids as if his ears were tuned only to them. Jackie had finished her recruitment drive and people were starting to leave. Moms and dads gathering their kids, scooping them up to go home. Rory had a sharp mental image of Jules and Ellis being here and doing the same, and he ached that they’d never had this moment, never seen their children running and laughing together in the sunshine.

  Without warning, grief ambushed him, rising sharp in his throat. He stopped dead, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. Now wasn’t the time, not with the kids around; he never let them see him cry. Slowly, he breathed out, allowing the wave of grief to crest and subside. When he opened his eyes, Morgan was watching him.

  “Okay?”

  “Yeah.” He forced a smile. “I’m fine.”

  Morgan was silent for a moment, then turned his attention back towards the field. “I’m going to help pack up, but feel free to head off with the kids if you need to get home.”

  “I guess it’s getting late.” He sighed because he’d rather stay—he was enjoying the grown-up company—but the kids came first, always. “Um, hey.” He snagged Morgan’s sleeve to get his attention.

  “Yeah?” Morgan’s eyes darted to Ollie’s hand as it fell back to his side.

  He hoped he hadn’t offended the guy’s hetero sensibilities. “I just wanted to say thanks for encouraging me to stay this evening. The boys had fun. And so did I.”

  “Me too.” For a brief, flickering moment Morgan’s eyes met his. Ollie felt the contact like a tiny spark behind his breastbone, a suggestion of something more. Then Morgan cleared his throat, turning to look out over the sports field and Ollie wondered whether he was imagining things. “I, um,” Morgan said. Then, “Oh...”

  A familiar wail rose up into the golden evening, and Ollie saw Luis flat on his face in the grass while Rory and friends hared off without him. “Crap,” he sighed, and headed over at a jog. Alyssa had already reached Luis, hoisting him up onto her hip and dusting him down. “It’s okay,” Ollie said when he reached them, pulling Luis into his arms. “I’ve got him.”

  “Sure you do.” Alyssa gave him a curious smile. “Uh, you need something for his knee?”

  Ollie looked down and saw the bloody scrape on Luis’s knee. “Crap.” He patted his pockets one-handed but didn’t even have a Kleenex.

  “Here.” From her copious bag, Alyssa pulled a small pack of antiseptic wipes and pressed one onto Luis’s knee. “Hold that, I’ve got a Band-Aid somewhere.”

  Ollie knew she was being kind, but he kicked himself for needing the help; a real parent would have had all this covered. Ollie always felt like he was running to catch up.

  With a sigh, he cuddled Luis while Alyssa put the Band-Aid on his knee and gradually Luis’s outraged wails subsided into weary grizzles and he started rubbing his face against Ollie’s shoulder. Time to get him home and into bed. Luckily, the other kids were leaving too, so after he’d thanked Alyssa, it wasn’t difficult to drag Rory away from his friends. Ollie snagged his hand as they made their way over the dry grass to the parking lot, Luis still clamped on his hip.

  Morgan was packing away the grill, the rosy evening light adding a golden glow to his skin. Ollie wondered who he was going home to tonight. And then told himself not to be stupid—romance, even a low-key crush, was a distraction he didn’t need. He had a million more important things going on in his life. But perhaps his gaze lingered too long, because Morgan lifted his head from where he was wiping down the table and, across the sports field, their eyes met. Ollie dropped Rory’s hand to give an awkward wave and Morgan returned the gesture before getting back to work.

  Something twanged in Ollie’s chest, a little pang of loneliness or disappointment. Stupid. Ignoring the feeling, he picked up Rory’s hand again and squeezed it. “Hey, how about we pick up ice cream on the way home?”

  “Three scoops and sprinkles!”

  “Spwinkles,” Luis echoed sleepily.

  Ollie chuckled. “One scoop, Buster.”

  “Ten scoops!”

  “Uh-huh,” he said as they crossed the parking lot to the car. “You think you could eat ten scoops?”

  “I could eat a million scoops!”

  The debate lasted all the way into town.

  Chapter Three

  Amy Cho’s office was in her home, a large Colonial in a nice neighborhood of Commack. Joel had been seeing her since he first moved to Long Island in the aftermath of his divorce, initially weekly, then every two weeks, now once a month.

  She’d mooted the idea of bringing their sessions to an end, but Joel wasn’t sure. Although he felt stable now, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was walking a thin line and that he could be easily knocked back down into the depression and anxiety that had dogged him in the months after Helen left.

  Today was one of those days. Anxiety beat its wings at his back, disturbing the air and leaving him off-balance.

  As always, Amy met him at the door. A solid woman of middle years, her graying hair hung in an immaculate bob below her chin and she exuded a calm confidence that Joel had responded to from the start. He trusted her, relied on her, and liked her.

  “Hello Joel
,” she said with a smile, and led him through her house to the pleasant room she used as an office. It overlooked her garden, which was as pristine as her house. Something to aspire to, he often thought as he gazed out over the lush grass and flowering trees and shrubs. His own yard needed a lot of work, but he was focusing on fixing up the house first. It took time when you were starting from a baseline of zero home improvement skills.

  As always, they sat across from each other next to the French windows—open, today—a low coffee table between them on which sat a discrete box of Kleenex and a pitcher of water next to an upturned glass. He assumed some of her clients cried during their sessions, but he never had. Amy thought it was odd—no, ‘unusual’ was the word she’d used—but Joel preferred to keep his feelings under control.

  “So.” Amy began in the same way she always began. “How have you been?”

  “Okay. Back to school, now. I’m teaching sixth grade this year and working a few extra hours. It’s good. And I made great progress on the house over the summer. Oh, and I finally bought a low emission car. It’s electric.”

  Amy made a note, offered a benign smile. “Sounds like you’ve kept busy.”

  “It wasn’t a distraction,” he said, smiling too. She knew him well. “I felt solid all summer. On an even keel. Calm.”

  “And now?”

  He hesitated. Damn, but she was perceptive. “A little… I don’t know. Off balance, I guess.”

  “Hmmm. Do you know why?”

  “No.” A flutter of memory: Ollie Snow crouching down to gather Rory into a hug in the school parking lot. “I mean, it’s nothing really…” Amy stayed silent, giving him space to tackle the thoughts he’d been avoiding. After a while he said, “Last week we had a cookout at the school. There was this guy there, a single father, with his kids and— I don’t know, I guess I felt…jealous?”

 

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