by Nicole Ellis
Mandy shrugged. “I think she’s fine, but you should probably check in on her after dinner.”
Sam nodded. “I’ll do that.” She looked outside. It was four o’clock and the sun had already almost disappeared from the sky. She would be happy when the days started getting longer again, because the short days were rather depressing.
Her brief stint as a substitute lifeguard on a Caribbean cruise ship seemed like years ago, instead of only a few months in the past. She envied Mandy’s short vacation away from school, but visiting a chilly Northwest beach in winter wasn’t Sam’s top choice for a destination, especially if it rained. However, she knew Mandy was excited about the trip because her sister, brother-in-law, and their kids hadn’t been able to join the rest of Mandy’s family for Thanksgiving dinner.
“Drive safely,” Sam said. The Oregon coast was five hours away, and Sam wouldn’t have wanted to drive there in the dark. Mandy didn’t seem to mind though, and had confided in Sam that she was looking forward to the solitude after spending so much time with the girls in their dorm.
“I will.” Mandy crossed the room in a few long strides and gave Sam an impulsive hug. “Have fun here.” She must have caught on to Sam’s fear, because she said, “Don’t worry. You’re going to do great. Besides, if you have any trouble, Drew will be here all weekend.”
Sam gulped, then took a deep breath. The school’s assistant director was nice, but she doubted he would be much help dealing with preteen angst. “Thanks.” She glanced out the window again. The remaining light was fading fast. “Go. It’s going to be late when you get there.”
“Eh. I kind of like driving at night. It’s so peaceful with fewer cars on the road.” She squeezed Sam’s arm. “I’ll see you on Monday morning.” She strode confidently out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Sam finished setting up her room and ate the leftovers from her lunch with Libby earlier that day: a gigantic Cobb salad with grilled chicken, bacon, avocado, a hard boiled egg, and a side of bleu cheese dressing. While she could have eaten in the dining room with the other staff and students who remained on campus, she knew if she didn’t finish the salad tonight, it would be wilted and unappetizing by tomorrow. She may have splurged a bit on the bedding and decorations she’d bought to brighten up her new place, but she was generally quite frugal, and hated the idea of wasting food.
After washing up the breakfast dishes she’d left in the sink that morning, Sam dried her hands on the dish towel hanging from a drawer handle. Raucous laughter caught her attention and drew her to the window. The girls who’d stayed through the holidays were coming back from dinner. A group of older girls huddled in a slow-moving pack, while a few of the younger girls followed closely behind them. A petite form trailed them by about ten yards, the girl appearing to drag her feet as she walked through the fallen leaves bordering the cement sidewalk.
Sam watched from her room as the girls entered the first-floor lobby, paying particular attention to the small girl at the rear – Kimmy Douglas. Normally, Kimmy hung out with students from her fourth-grade class, but they had all gone home to their families for Thanksgiving, including Kimmy’s roommate, leaving her all alone.
About ten minutes after Sam heard them tromp up the stairs, she walked down the hall to Kimmy’s room. Sam knocked on the closed door, noting the blank whiteboard affixed to it. The students used the whiteboards to let others know where they were, or to warn off visitors if they were studying. More often than not, though, they were covered with notes and images from friends.
Kimmy didn’t answer her door, but low sobs carried through to the hallway. Sam hesitated. This was exactly the type of situation she’d feared would occur while Mandy was out of town. While Sam loved spending time with her nieces and nephews, she wasn’t often solely responsible for their emotional wellbeing.
Sam knocked again, then said, “Kimmy? It’s Miss Briggs. Can I come in?” She glanced down the hall to make sure none of the other students were listening. Kimmy probably wouldn’t want the others to know she was crying.
After a few soft footsteps, Kimmy opened the door for Sam before running back to the lower bunk and dramatically flopping face-down on the mattress.
The dorm rooms were small, but adequate for two children, and contained a bunk bed, two desks, and a pair of hanging closets attached to a double dresser. A lamp on the nightstand provided a soft glow that illuminated the room.
Sam eyed the little girl, who still had her face planted into her pillow, and sat down next to her on the edge of the bed. Her brain buzzed, trying to figure out the best approach. Should she say something, or should she wait for Kimmy to speak first?
Kimmy continued to cry, her tears creating an expanding wet spot on her pillowcase, but she didn’t say anything.
Sam rested her hand on the girl’s shoulder for a few seconds to get her attention. “Sweetie, are you okay?”
“No!” Kimmy looked up just long enough to sob out the one word.
Sam sighed inwardly. Preteens could be dramatic, but something was really bothering Kimmy. She tried again. “Do you want to talk about it?”
This time, Kimmy met her gaze, although her eyes were still swimming with tears. She sniffled. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Uh,” Sam said. “You’re crying, so I think something is probably wrong.” She kept her tone light and gave the girl a small smile in hopes of bringing some levity to the moment.
Kimmy scowled at her in return and Sam shrank back, unsure whether she’d already messed up.
“My parents don’t love me.” Fresh tears flowed in rivulets down Kimmy’s cheeks and her chin wrinkled in anguish.
Sam’s eyes widened. Yeah, this wasn’t good. She took a deep breath as her mind raced, searching for the right thing to say. “Why do you say that?”
“Because they left me here.” Kimmy pushed herself up to a seated position. She hiccuped loudly before rubbing her hand across her tear-stained cheeks. Sam handed her a Kleenex from a box on the nightstand and waited for her to dry her eyes. “Everyone else got to go home to their families for Thanksgiving, but my parents didn’t care about me.”
“Oh, honey, I’m sure that’s not true.” Sam brushed a wet strand of hair back from the girl’s face. “I’m sure your parents love you.”
“They don’t,” Kimmy said with childish stubbornness. “If they did, they wouldn’t have gone off and left me.”
Sam wracked her brain. What had Mandy told her about Kimmy’s parents? “They’re in Asia right now, right?” She seemed to remember that the girl’s parents were traveling overseas for business and wouldn’t be back until the end of the school year.
Kimmy nodded. “China, I think.” She scowled. “At least that’s the last place they called me from.” Her gaze turned to a framed photo on her nightstand, in which she stood with two adults Sam assumed were her parents. “I still don’t understand why they couldn’t take me on their trip. I usually go with them.”
Sam reached over and hugged her, but Kimmy stayed rigid.
“They must have thought you’d be better off at Bayside Prep. Fourth grade is an important year in school and they wouldn’t want you to get behind. I’m sure they miss you just as much as you miss them.”
“I don’t think so.” Kimmy gulped. “If they did, they’d have flown me out to see them instead of leaving me here for Thanksgiving break.”
Sam chose her words carefully. It appeared she was gaining Kimmy’s trust, and she didn’t want to mess that up. “A flight to Asia is quite long for you to take on your own.”
“I’ve been there a few times,” Kimmy said. “It’s not that bad.”
Sam was in her mid-twenties and had never been to Asia. The closest she’d come to international travel had been when she’d flown to the Caribbean to meet up with the cruise ship she’d worked on over the summer. What must it be like to be so well-traveled at such a young age? She regarded Kimmy carefully. Maybe it was time for a different tac
tic.
“It sounds like you’re quite an experienced traveler. But, like I said, fourth grade is very important. It would be difficult to get a good education if you’re constantly on the move, especially if your parents need to focus on work.” Sam had no idea what Kimmy’s parents did, but it sounded like they traveled often. “I’m sure they want what’s best for you.”
Kimmy eyed her suspiciously. “But the other girls said my parents didn’t want me around, and that’s why they didn’t send for me.” She sniffled a few more times and Sam feared she would burst into tears again.
Sam looked around the room for something to distract the girl, her eyes landing on an Angelina Ballerina doll lying at the foot of the bed. Her niece, Kaya, had the same stuffed mouse, and Sam had read Angelina Ballerina stories to her several times when she’d babysat.
“I see you have an Angelina.” She left her statement open-ended to allow Kimmy space to respond.
Kimmy nodded. “My mom gave her to me for Christmas last year.” She hung her head and said quietly, “I wonder if they’ll even send me gifts this year.”
Sam’s heart broke for the little girl. Most of the kids seemed to like living in the dorms, although they often missed their families. But being away from their parents during the holidays would be extremely tough. Sam might be an adult, but she still hated to consider the thought of not being home for Christmas. Impulsively, she gave the girl another hug. This time, Kimmy tentatively wrapped one arm around Sam’s waist before pulling back.
A tear pooled in the corner of the girl’s eyes, but she blinked it away. “Mom knows how much I love ballet.” She eyed the doll wistfully. “She said maybe I can have ballet lessons sometime.”
“That sounds fun. I took ballet lessons from elementary school all the way through high school.” When Sam had been Kimmy’s age, she’d wanted to be a professional ballet dancer, but by the time she was applying for colleges, she’d changed her mind in favor of a teaching degree.
“Really?” Hope shone on Kimmy’s face. “Are you good at it? Mommy took me to the ballet once and the ballerinas were so beautiful.”
Sam shrugged. “I don’t know how good I am now, but I practiced a lot when I was a teenager. I was even in a youth production of The Nutcracker with the local ballet company.”
“Oh, wow.” Most of the sadness had finally disappeared from Kimmy’s expression. “I wish I could take lessons now.”
Inspiration struck Sam. “Maybe you can.”
“Like at a dance studio?” Kimmy’s brows knitted together. “How would I get there?”
“I don’t know, but I’m sure we can figure something out if your parents are okay with it.” Sam crossed her fingers, hoping that the school’s directors would be amenable to the idea. “But for now, how about I show you some of the basic positions? Would you like that?”
Kimmy nodded, and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Here?”
Sam looked at the aging linoleum tiles. They’d be fine for a quick positioning lesson, but she wouldn’t want to practice on them every day. “Sure. We can do it here.”
She instructed Kimmy to stand in the middle of the room, then helped the girl arrange her feet into first position, with her heels together, toes pointing straight out to the sides, and her legs straight.
Kimmy wobbled as she forced her legs into the unfamiliar pose. “Whoa. This is harder than it looks.”
Sam laughed and steadied her. It was good to see her smiling. She ran through a brief description of the other four basic positions, letting Kimmy try each of them out.
When they were done, Kimmy’s eyes were dry and her face held a steady smile. She gave Sam a big hug around the waist. “Thank you, Miss Briggs. I’ve always wanted to learn ballet.”
Sam grinned. “Well, I can’t promise anything, but I’ll ask Mr. Hodgins about you taking ballet lessons in town. Sound good?”
Kimmy vigorously nodded her head up and down. “Yes!”
A melodious bell chimed in the hall, signaling that it was almost nine o’clock and time for lights-out in the dorm.
“You’d better get ready for bed.” Sam walked over to the door, then turned back to Kimmy. “I had fun tonight. Thanks for reminding me how much I used to love ballet.”
A flush came over Kimmy’s cheeks and she mumbled, “You’re welcome.” She crossed the room to her chest of drawers and pulled out a pair of pajamas, which Sam took as her cue to leave.
“I’ll be back after nine to check on you and the others.” Sam stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind her. She briefly closed her eyes. Crisis averted. She hoped the principal and Kimmy’s parents would agree to ballet lessons at a studio in town. Something like that would go a long way in distracting Kimmy from missing her family.
She checked on the girls in the communal bathroom in the middle of the hallway. They were all busy brushing their teeth and getting ready for bed. A few of the older students were washing their faces and applying lotion to their skin. Sam returned to her apartment to wait for everyone to get back to their rooms.
She sat down on the armchair she’d moved over to the window and looked out at the clear night sky. It had been longer than she cared to remember since she’d last forced her feet into the ballet poses she’d demonstrated to Kimmy. She’d meant what she said to the little girl. She’s forgotten how much she loved dancing and how big a part it had played in her formative years.
She was never going to be a professional ballerina – that ship had sailed – but there was nothing stopping her from taking adult ballet lessons. After losing her teaching job at Willa Bay High School, Sam had felt adrift. The job as a housemother and teacher at Bayside Prep had come along at the perfect time, but it was only temporary, and she’d eventually have to pursue something else. Maybe returning to something she’d enjoyed in the past would help her figure out where she wanted to go and the person she wanted to be in the future. She grabbed a Post-it Note from her desk and jotted down a reminder to ask the principal about lessons for Kimmy, then opened her laptop to start researching the dance studios in the area.
13
Cal
Cal arrived at Willa Bay First Lutheran a few minutes before five o’clock. He’d been attending the early evening Alcoholics Anonymous meetings there since he’d arrived in town, a very different activity than his prior habit of going out to happy hour with colleagues from work. The box of donuts and industrial-strength coffee provided at the meeting may not have been on the same level as some of the fancier fare he’d consumed at restaurants in downtown Seattle, but, with the exception of the sugary carbs, going to a meeting was a much healthier choice overall.
He entered the building, poured himself a cup of coffee, and grabbed an old-fashioned donut out of the box on the table. He walked toward the rows of chairs set up on the far side of the room, greeting acquaintances he’d made over the last year. After taking a seat near the front, he settled in to eat his donut and relax. When he’d first started going to AA meetings, he’d found that every place and group had a different feel to it. This particular group made him feel the most at home.
A few minutes past five, the meeting leader – a petite woman in her late sixties with a commanding presence – walked to the front of the room and greeted the crowd. Before she could say anything more, the door behind them creaked open and someone entered.
The leader paused and smiled warmly in the direction of the door. “Welcome. Have a seat. We’re just getting started.”
Along with most of the other attendees, Cal turned to see who she was talking to. As soon as his eyes landed on the newcomer, he whipped his head back around to face the front, hoping the tall, dark-haired man hadn’t seen him. What was Antonio doing here?
As soon as the thought entered his mind, he chided himself. Antonio was probably there for the same reason as Cal. A better question was, did Tia know her brother was in AA?
Cal hadn’t seen much of Tia in the last two weeks, ever sinc
e Antonio had arrived in Willa Bay. They’d gone out together only one time since their first lunch date at the coffee shop. With all of her holiday work commitments, Tia had been too busy for much more. One day last week, though, she’d brought her brother to see the cottages under renovation, and had introduced him to Cal.
Antonio had the same schmoozy, easygoing vibe that had been prevalent in the commercial real estate brokers Cal had worked with – but he’d been nothing but polite when they’d met, and appeared to be sincerely happy to spend time with his sister. Tia, however, had been on edge ever since her brother had arrived in town.
Cal turned his focus back to the meeting. The leader had turned things over to another member of their group, who led them in reciting the Serenity Prayer. Antonio sat silently the entire time. After the meeting, Cal debated with himself over whether he should say anything to Tia’s brother, but his decision was made for him when Antonio slipped quietly out of the room.
Thirty minutes later, Cal knocked on the door to Cottage Twenty for his date with Tia. As they were both relative newcomers to the area, they’d decided to try an Italian restaurant at the outskirts of town that had received rave reviews from their co-workers.
Tia opened the door wearing a red dress with a form-fitting bodice and a flowing skirt that swirled enticingly around her calves. Her fingers held tightly to the thin strap of a small, black leather purse, and she’d draped a black wool coat over her arm. He whistled in appreciation, and her cheeks reddened to nearly the shade of her dress.
“Do I look okay?” She leaned against the doorframe and stared down at her outfit. Her dark hair swung loosely over her shoulders, obscuring her face. “I usually save this dress for Christmas parties, but I’ve been so worried about Antonio being here that I thought I could use a little pick-me-up.” When she straightened and met his gaze, her eyes were clouded with doubt.