There was a knock on her classroom door. Destiny looked up. “Winston,” she smiled. “How did your meeting go?”
“Not as good as yours,” he scoffed. “Your dad was smiling when I passed him in the hall. The dad I just met with, well, let’s just say he wasn’t smiling.”
“At least, he showed up.” Destiny walked to her desk and put a handful of files into her briefcase.
“Right,” he exhaled, then picked at a paint chip in the doorway. “So, some of us are going out after work, and I was wondering if you wanted to get a drink.”
Destiny wrinkled her nose. “Nah. But thanks for asking.”
“Maybe some other time, then?”
Destiny looked up at Winston, a substitute teacher who had only been with the school district two-and-a-half years. Originally he had been substituting for one of their older math teachers, Mr. Franklin, who had fallen down the stairs at home, and faced months of rehabbing from multiple injuries and surgeries, a result of his fall. Winston performed so well that the high school administration continued to use him as often as he was available, mostly covering teachers that were out longer stretches of time. Like Destiny. Winston had moved from Seattle just a few months before Destiny’s accident and coincidentally subbed in the classroom next to hers. Destiny had taken him under her wing since he was the new kid on the block.
Winston’s positive attitude, winning personality, and sexy smile wasn’t lost on all the single teachers and moms at the school, not to mention many of the female students. He was fawned over at any school events he attended. Personally, she thought he reveled in the attention. But Winston wasn’t her type. Not that she had a type anymore. Attractive with perfect hair and perfect white teeth, he always dressed nicely and was always the perfect gentleman. Maybe that was why she didn’t give him a second glance. He was just too… perfect. And to Destiny, that was unnatural. Everyone had flaws, either physical or personality flaws, but he just… didn’t.
Winston shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked into the room. “I promise that I’d be a perfect gentleman.”
Destiny smiled to herself, then looked up him and shrugged noncommittally. “Maybe some other time.”
Winston’s eyes perked up. “Well, a maybe isn’t a no, so I’ll take that.”
Destiny walked to the door, Winston keeping in stride with her. “So, what do you do for fun?” he asked.
“We’re teachers. I didn’t think we were allowed to have any fun.”
“Sure we are. We just have to get permission slips first,” he added, noting a wisp of a smile on her lips at his remark.
Winston talked for both of them as they walked. Destiny could feel his hand at the curve of her back as they turned the corner toward the teachers’ lounge. Her body tensed at his touch. It wasn’t the first time he had touched her. Sometimes, when he stood beside her, if he were talking to her or telling a joke, he would touch her very lightly; occasionally letting his hand or fingers linger a moment or two. Winston had done it when Phillip was alive, as well. Destiny had confided to her husband that it made her uncomfortable, so Phillip, in Phillip fashion, teased her that Winston was her work fling.
Now that Phillip was gone, Winston tended to do it more. Or was it that she noticed it more or that it simply bothered her more? Destiny would have dismissed him altogether a long time ago if only he weren’t so darn charming. Not to mention great with the kids. Destiny found herself relating to him about varied, innovative teaching methods; methods that had changed so much over the past five years alone. Winston had lived in many cities; from Chicago to Portland, New York, and Oklahoma City. When he found it was harder to settle into a full-time teaching position, he immediately offered to substitute teach at the local school district. They had kept him busy ever since.
Within six months of Phillip’s death, Winston had begun asking her out in subtle ways, like suggesting a casual cup of coffee or meeting up at a park for the free local entertainment. Destiny had tried being polite in her rejection of his advances, not interested in him or anyone else at this juncture in her life. She couldn’t imagine herself ever dating again, much less ever remarrying.
Almost two years since Phillip’s and Rhett’s deaths, Destiny was much lonelier than she let on. It wasn’t just that she missed Phillip’s presence, but she missed what his presence had meant. There was no more early morning snuggling and sweet kisses on the back of her neck… surprise romantic back rubs and amazing foot massages. Or random “I love you’s,” or a quiet smile that spoke the same. All the things that had been a part of her everyday life for ten years were now just a distant memory.
Winston had been hinting at a date for almost fifteen months and here she’d agreed to meet Owen after just one brief conversation. It was as close to a blind date as one could get. And now, thanks to Lisa, she was stuck. Owen… the first man that had successfully asked her out though unofficially, in almost a dozen years.
Destiny and Winston each checked their individual teacher mailboxes, rifling through messages as he continued to rattle on about working out after school or a new martial arts movie that was playing. Winston usually chattered on and on about things she knew nothing about or even cared to know. As he turned to leave, he nudged her with his elbow. “See you Monday,” he said with a wink.
“Monday,” she replied as he walked out the door to the teachers’ parking lot.
Destiny turned toward the administration corridor and met a new face smiling up at her from the secretarial desk. “Hi, is Rita still here?”
“I’ll see. May I tell her who’s asking?”
“Destiny,” she smiled.
“What a lovely name. I’m Brenda.” She held out her hand.
“Brenda, nice to meet you.”
At that moment, the school principal, Rita O’Connor, walked from her office. “Destiny!” she exclaimed. “How were your meetings?”
“They all went well,” she replied. “Do you have a second?”
“Sure.” Rita turned back toward her office. “Did you meet Brenda?”
Destiny smiled back at Brenda. “I did. Again, pleased to meet you.”
Brenda glanced back up from her computer without a break in typing, smiled, and looked back down.
“Where’s Ginger?” Destiny asked as she sat across from her boss.
“She quit.”
“Quit?” Destiny exclaimed. “Why?”
“Not really sure,” she said, the disappointment evident in her voice. “She was acting kind of strange the past two weeks, and then this morning she just didn’t show up.” Rita nodded toward the door. “Brenda’s an intern on loan from the central office until I can find a replacement.”
“That’s peculiar,” Destiny remarked off-handedly. Her eyes met Rita’s. “I hate to add to your plate, but I wanted to see about doing a Habitat build with the seniors. They approached me a month ago, and I have to give Habitat an answer by Monday.”
“As long as you have all the proper paperwork, I don’t see it as a problem.”
“Then I’ll call Habitat and set up a weekend.”
Rita stood and moved to the front of her desk. “That was painless. I wish all the teachers brought me issues with such easy answers.”
Destiny stood beside Rita.
“Are you doing okay?” she asked with a compassionate smile.
Destiny smiled sadly and shrugged. “Today’s a good day.”
Rita’s smile grew. “Give yourself time.” Rita understood Destiny’s pain, having lost her husband ten years before to a massive heart attack. Rita, as Destiny had, threw herself into her work. Her love for the kids was great and helped her deal with the loss. Helped her deal with the pain.
Destiny nodded. “One day at a time,” she sighed.
“Look, we’re all meeting for drinks at the Oasis in about an hour. You’re welcome to join us,” she offered, already knowing the answer.
Destiny slowly shook her head. “Thanks for the invite. Winston already i
nvited me.”
Rita’s smile faded. “Yeah, well, Winston’s sweet, but there’s something just a little off about him.”
Destiny furrowed her brow. “What do you mean by that?”
“Think about it. Why does someone that good looking, who is the perfect gentleman, not have a girlfriend and never been married?”
Destiny shrugged again. “Maybe something happened, and he’s nursing a broken heart… or maybe he’s…”
“Gay?” Rita finished her question for her, shaking her head. “Not gay,” she clarified. “Remember Claire, who transferred to LBJ High last year? Well, she went out with him a few times, I think, just before she transferred. Apparently something happened because she told more than just a few of us that he has a kinky dark side.”
Destiny remembered the rumors, simply because she and most of the other females on staff had been skeptical. Claire was very explicit with those who would listen about her sexual escapades and short-lived relationships. Most of them ended quickly or poorly or both, so no one put any stock in what she had claimed, assuming a date gone very badly.
“I can’t go because I promised a friend I would help out at the Senior Center tonight.”
“That’s so great, Destiny. I’m glad to know you are getting out more.”
Destiny picked up her purse and carefully slid it over her shoulder. “I’m trying.” She hugged her friend. “Thanks.”
Rita winked. “Anytime.”
As Destiny walked from her office, Rita held open the door, watching her go. “One day at a time,” she sighed to herself, before closing the door behind her.
Chapter 15
When Bill became both mom and dad to his daughter, not only did his family dynamic change, but his job changed, and his housing changed. He went from planning for their family to planning for him and his daughter alone. His entire adult life he had worked for someone else. After Sydney was born, Bill cut working sixty hours a week to forty so he could spend more time with his new family. When Justine left him, his mom offered to babysit. Three months of his mother’s daily infant-child-rearing and health remedy advice accelerated his desire to raise his daughter on his own.
Before Sydney’s first birthday he sold all his investment stock and his house and bought the bed and breakfast. It was big enough for them to have a place to live and allow them to make a comfortable living. It was a colonial with a full wrap-around porch, including oversized rockers and swings on every side. The older Sydney became, the more interested she became, not only in the workings of a bed and breakfast but the people who stayed there. On many occasions, she would greet the guests with cookies and milk or slip special cards, notes or pictures that she had drawn, under their doors. And the guests loved her. Sydney was simply part of what made their stay so special.
It was Friday night, and after prepping for breakfast the following morning, Bill handed the reins off to Deborah, as his presence was required at the Senior Center. Sydney was staying overnight at a friend’s house. It was an eight-year-old’s birthday party so he knew they’d be up all night eating cupcakes and popcorn, and watching Disney movies. As long as he wasn’t the one dealing with ten eight-year-olds on a sugar high it was all good. Bill wasn’t overly strict on Sydney’s diet, but because she was a little high-strung, he usually rationed her sweet and soda intake. She was always a little grumpier and less attentive when she over-indulged. He would detox her tomorrow. Tonight he would have enough to handle with two hundred hungry veterans; hungry for fish, hungry for bingo. Hungry for companionship.
Bill loved volunteering at the Senior Center. His father, a veteran of the Army with thirty-seven years of service under his belt, encouraged his three sons to serve their community wherever they could. His father’s hope that they would follow his path and join the Army never happened. Bill’s oldest brother, Leonard, went into the Marines and served there faithfully for almost twenty years until his death in Afghanistan in 2004. Owen, the middle son, went on to college to study economics and sociology and worked at the VA. Bill, the only one whose career had no military ties, studied economics and finance and worked in banking until he decided to buy a bed and breakfast and raise his daughter on his own. If only his dad could see him now.
Bill remembered his grandfather’s stories of World War I and II, and then his father’s tales of Korea, and Vietnam. He used to tell them they should write a book. How many father-son adventures would span five wars? Bill had begun volunteering at the Senior Center after joining Rotary International, through his time in banking. Through Rotary, he had helped bring an end to polio, helped build water wells in impoverished cities around the world and created libraries and schools where there were none. And now, he helped serve veterans every week by feeding them while they played bingo at Veteran’s Night at the Senior Center. Bill looked forward to his time with the veterans. He served every week for varied reasons. Now, there was one more.
Ever since he first looked into Destiny’s eyes, he had thought of nothing else. No one else. He found himself distracted, almost to the point of annoyance. Even when he had a million things to do, her face kept coming to mind. And thanks to his stubborn pride, he couldn’t even ask her out. Owen, his older brother, had just been through a nasty divorce with his third wife. It didn’t seem fair that he had already set his sights on Destiny as the next potential Mrs. Owen Ireland. And they hadn’t even had a first date yet. Now he drove to the Senior Center in anticipation of her being there, in the hopes of seeing her there—though part of him hoped she wasn’t.
Bill parked under the light as he always did because he was usually the first one there. It was his job to unlock the dumpster and the back door, in preparation of hoards of volunteers arriving shortly after that. It was his responsibility to turn on the lights and the air, or the heat if it was winter. Bill turned on all the equipment and prepared the counter to accept guests in the next hour-and-a-half. Owen walked in almost five minutes later and nodded to his baby brother before starting his own routine. Although inventory was checked each week at the end of their shifts, it was Owen’s responsibility to double-check it before opening the register. It assured that nothing had mysteriously disappeared or was overlooked the week before.
The staff consisted of mostly volunteers, but there were a few paid part-time workers. Owen and Bill were both in their mid-thirties and financially secure. Although offered a small salary for what they did, both rejected their individual offers. They weren’t necessarily close. They didn’t share a lot of the same characteristics, either physically or traditionally. However, they did have the same core values, mostly based on their father’s strict military training and their mother’s faith and her belief in making a difference in the world. Combine those two with the perfect alignment of the stars and their life circumstances, and they ended up serving fish and chips to a bunch of veterans on Friday nights at the Senior Center.
“So, did you ask her out?” Bill asked casually, for lack of anything else worthwhile to say.
“Who?”
“Destiny,” Bill reminded him.
“Who?”
Bill sighed in annoyance. Owen didn’t even remember her name. “The woman Lisa introduced you to last week,” he clarified.
“Oh, her,” he grinned. “I’ll work on her again tonight.”
“Wear her down, huh?” Bill said under his breath.
“Whatever works.”
“Do you even like her?”
“I just met her,” he exhaled. “But, tonight,” he grinned mischievously, “I won’t take no for an answer.”
Bill stopped talking. The conversation only served to discourage him more.
“I think she’d look good,” Owen began.
Bill turned to his brother and waited expectantly. Knowing Owen, there was no telling what would come out of his mouth.
“I’ll bite, where would she look good?” a voice asked from behind.
Bill turned to see Sheray, the head cook, walk up behind th
em.
“In my bed,” Owen answered slyly.
Sheray rolled her eyes and then began taking food items from the refrigerator to prepare for cooking and serving in the next hour. “You’ve got to be kidding. Tell me that’s not going to be your line.”
Bill shook his head. “My guess is it is.”
Sheray glanced sideways at him, noting his sarcasm. “Is that how he hooked numbers one through three?”
Owen walked up behind her. “Actually number one started something like this,” he began, slowly sliding his arms down hers until his hands were on hers. He then nuzzled against her cheek. “And then I whispered in her ear.” He lowered his voice, his lips beside her ear. “Where have you been all my life, Beautiful?”
Sheray moved from his grip. “That actually worked?”
“She fell for it, hook, line, and sinker,” Owen grinned proudly, rolling up his sleeves.
“Then she took him for everything—hook, line, and sinker,” Bill interjected as he took the cash drawer out of the floor safe.
Sheray walked past Owen, and he grabbed her by the hand, pulling her into his arms, holding her close to his chest. “Number two,” he said as he started dancing her around the kitchen. “Number two thought I was suave and sexy and loved my moves,” he added in a seductive tone. He twirled her and let her go, and she spun right into Bill’s arms.
Bill smiled and shrugged. “And then she realized what he looked like the morning after.”
Owen furrowed his brow at his brother.
“And number three?”
Owen wriggled his lips. “Number three wanted more out of the marriage than I did.”
“Like what?”
Bill chimed in. “Honesty. Commitment. Monogamy.”
“Yeah, well,” Owen sighed. “The next one will be different.”
“How’s that?” Bill asked. He crossed his arms and leaned against the counter attentively.
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