A Little Bit of Déjà Vu

by Laurie Kellogg

  He wouldn’t deny it. He believed the more teens knew, the better equipped they’d be to make responsible choices. “The classes I teach are elective courses. Any parents who don’t approve of their kids discussing their sexuality can exclude it from their schedule.” Jake stood, preparing to leave. “You can tell anyone who’s interested that, if they plan to censor my classes or try to gag the kids attending them, I’ll resign first.”

  Tony heaved a sigh. “That’s what I was afraid you’d say. You know I was the one who pushed for hiring you. The number of boys enrolled in the Marriage and Family and Human Development classes has more than doubled from when we had a woman teacher.”

  “Then that’s a great argument for keeping me, isn’t it?”

  “But you also need to remember the importance this district places on family values and social responsibility. Our curriculum attests to it.”

  It was true. A lot of high schools’ F&CS departments only offered traditional home economics courses in cooking, sewing, and childcare.

  Tony raked his fingers through his thinning hair. “Look, I don’t want to lose you, Jake. You’re too big an asset both as a teacher and a coach. In six months, this whole thing with Alex will have blown over. For the time being, can’t you just give the board a little lip service?”

  Jake leaned on Tony’s desk and stared at the superintendent. “As I said before, my son’s situation has nothing to do with me as a teacher. You tell the board to hold their hearing. I’ll answer any questions they have, but I refuse to sell out on covering topics that I believe are in the kids’ best interest or to apologize for my son’s behavior.”

  ~~~

  The loneliness and heartache from losing Dan gripped Margie more acutely than ever as she sat alone at graduation on Wednesday evening. Throughout the salutary and valedictory speeches, she felt Jake watching her from the platform. For him to find her in the sea of parents would be just short of miraculous. Nonetheless, every time she looked at him, he seemed to be staring directly at her, silently reminding her of the way she’d melted in his arms on Saturday night. He’d shown up unexpectedly at her door with a birthday cake and two generous gift certificates to Sherry’s Snip ‘n Style, Redemption’s beauty salon and gossip central, for her and Emma to get the works for the wedding. Before leaving that evening, he’d kissed Margie, again.

  Okay, in truth, it’d been a little more than just a kiss. The memory of him teasing her breasts made her squirm in her seat.

  She’d been shocked when her daughter told her the student body had requested that Jake fill in for the vice principal at the commencement exercises. His participation testified to how close he was to his pupils and how highly they regarded him.

  During a brief speech, he commended the parents for not relying on the school to do their job and instilling values in their kids that helped them grow into responsible young adults. He congratulated the graduates and challenged them to strive to reach their goals in the future but never, ever to sacrifice their principles or happiness to achieve them.

  “Remember,” he told them in closing, “the true measure of success in your life will be the amount of respect you have for the person in the mirror.”

  While he read the name of each graduate from a list on the podium, the superintendent and principal presented the students with their diplomas and shook their hands. After the ceremony, she waited for Emma at the back of the auditorium, and a muscular arm slid around Margie’s shoulders.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t think about you sitting by yourself tonight,” Jake said. “I should’ve saved you a seat with my dad and Helen.”

  In truth, she was just as happy he hadn’t. “What you said tonight was wonderful. I loved your praise of the parents.”

  “Well, I thought it behooved me to do a little damage control. When Petrillo asked me to fill in tonight, he mentioned some concern from the board about my competency as a teacher.”

  “He’s giving you flak over Alex and Emma?”

  “No, he was just the messenger boy.” Jake told her what had transpired in his meeting.

  “What’s Howard Carmichael’s problem with you?”

  “Our illustrious board president is pissed because his son didn’t get the game time he needed to win a scholarship at a division 1-A school.”

  She couldn’t imagine Jake playing favorites—even with his own son. “Was the boy good enough to get one?”

  “In all honesty,”—Jake shrugged—“probably. If Phil had played for a different high school where he didn’t have Alex as his competition, I have no doubt Phil would’ve been the first-string quarterback.”

  “So then Howard Carmichael has a reason to resent you.”

  “Maggie, I had no choice. I would’ve loved to play his kid more often and spared my son the risk of being injured. I had nothing to gain by keeping Phil out of the game. Alex already had every university in the country recruiting him.”

  “Then why not just put him—”

  “Because we had a marginal team and won every game by only a couple of points—due solely to Alex’s ability to compensate. If I’d given Phil more game time, instead, the school never would’ve won the state championship.”

  She stepped aside to allow a group of graduates to squeeze past them. “Is winning really so all fire important?”

  “It is to the other players and their parents. If we hadn’t taken the championship, a lot fewer of my guys would have gotten full rides. And it wasn’t as if Phil didn’t get any offers—they just weren’t at schools where the NFL recruits.”

  “Then your conscience is clear,” she said more as a statement than a question.

  “Absolutely. Carmichael refuses to accept I wasn’t hired to coach an intramural team. My first responsibility is to make sure we win. Consideration for any individual player has to come second to what’s best for the team as a whole.”

  “Something like, ‘The good of the many outweighs the good of the few,’ huh, Mr. Spock?” She raised her right hand split in a V, imitating the Vulcan greeting.

  “That about sums it up.” He leaned his shoulder against the wall, brushing his knuckles over her cheek. “I never would’ve taken you for a Trekkie.”

  “I’m not. Dan was a huge Star Trek fan.”

  Jake nodded and continued, “Anyway, there’s a good chance I’ll be out of a job in September. I may not be father of the year, but I refuse to let the school hold me accountable as a teacher for my son’s lack of judgment.”

  “So what’ll you do if you’re not offered a contract?”

  “Finish my dissertation and then hang out a shingle as a therapist. I’d planned to teach a few more years until I build up a practice part-time in the evenings. However, if that’s not possible,”—he shrugged—“I have plenty invested, so money’s not the issue. The thing is I really like working with the kids. I’m not about to let that pompous ass force me to give up something I love doing before I’m good and ready to.”

  He exerted a gentle pressure on her back, guiding her toward the exit. “Helen baked a fudge cake. Join us back at the house for coffee before the kids go out with their friends.”

  Margie wasn’t prepared to be thrust into the middle of his family quite yet. Not to mention the last thing she needed to eat was cake again with the wedding in only three days. Stepping away, she sighed. “Thanks for the invitation. I’d love to meet your stepmother and see your dad again, but I think I’ll pass. Friday will be soon enough for me to face that scene.”

  “I hope you’re not saying no because I kissed you again on Saturday.”

  She blew out a blasé puff. “I forgot all about that the moment you left.”

  It was the carnal way he’d touched her that had kept her from sleeping all week.

  “You did, huh?” One corner of his mouth curled in a crooked smile. “Then why are there shadows under your eyes a raccoon would envy?”

  “I’ve been up late, preparing the final grade reports.” She glanced u
p at the ceiling, expecting a bolt of lightning to strike her at any moment.

  “Uh-huh.” He smirked as if he found her explanation about as plausible as aliens pitching a tent on the high school’s lawn. “You need to be fresh for the wedding on Saturday.”

  “I’m touched by your concern.” She patted his cheek. “I’ll go to bed as soon as I get home.”

  “Good. Unlike you, Rosebud, I haven’t been able to put you out of my mind.” He grabbed her wrist and gently pressed his lips to her palm. “If you have trouble falling asleep, call me. I’ll come tell you a bedtime story.”

  She flashed a forced smile at him and yanked her hand back. “I’ll take a sleeping pill.”

  ~~~

  Friday evening, Margie smoothed the skirt on the pink silk sheath she’d bought that week and drew in a deep breath as she rang Jake’s bell. She was about as eager to have dinner with Alex’s grandparents and Roxanne as a cat would be to have a bubble bath.

  She’d fought with herself for over an hour about wearing the seductive dress until she’d finally decided she needed all the help she could get to boost her confidence. It wasn’t as if the summery sheath was particularly revealing. It simply flattered her figure and hugged her body in all the right places. Aside from actually fitting and being her best color, the lightweight silk draped in cascading folds on the scooped neckline making her average bust appear a full size larger and giving the dress a delightfully feminine air.

  Jake swung the door open, looking incredible in a pale blue and silver print shirt and charcoal trousers topped with a dove gray, summer-weight sports jacket.

  He planted a kiss on her cheek. “Wow, you look stunning. Thanks.”

  The prospect of making Jake eat his heart out had been too tempting. She wanted him to kick himself for ever letting her go. “I didn’t get dressed up for you.”

  “Thank you anyway. I’d like you to make a good impression.”

  “Why would you care what your family thinks of me?”

  He pursed his lips and shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know. Maybe I’d like Roxanne to see the kind of temptation I was faced with back in college.”

  “You mean you told her you slept with me and got me pregnant?”

  “About two years after we were married.”

  Wonderful. “And you think it’ll comfort her to know you didn’t cheat on her with some horse-faced bimbo?”

  He closed the door. “As a matter of fact, yes. She might feel a little less inadequate if she understood I didn’t jump into bed with just anyone. And as I’ve told you before, I’d planned to call off the wedding, so I didn’t really cheat on her.”

  “Rationalize all you want, Jake.” She strolled to the back of the house, puzzled by the silence. “Am I early?”

  His mouth curved in a sheepish smile. “Uhh, actually, yes. I invited you an hour before everyone else. Despite that I make a mean batch of pancakes, there’s a reason I don’t teach the foods and nutrition class. I hoped I could con you into helping me cook dinner.”

  “Why didn’t you just ask Roxanne to come early?”

  “Right. I haven’t seen my ex-wife in two years. I can’t put her to work the minute she gets here. Not to mention, she’s not much better in the kitchen than I am.”

  Apparently, he didn’t have any problem imposing on Margie. Her throat ached at the tenderness in Jake’s voice whenever he spoke of Roxanne.

  “You still love her, don’t you?”

  “Sure.” He paused a moment then added, “If for no other reason than she gave me a great kid.”

  Was that another of his little innuendoes, reminding Margie of the child they didn’t have? She swallowed hard and opened his refrigerator. “What’re we making?”

  “I loved that spinach dip you fixed with the veggies the first night Alex and I came for dinner. I bought everything you told me you put in it, and I stuck a prime rib roast in the oven. I figured I’d leave it up to you to fix the baby carrots, asparagus, and mashed potatoes.”

  “Do you want an orange glaze on the carrots and hollandaise sauce for the asparagus?” she asked.

  “Mmmm.” He licked his lips. “Do you know how to fix them?”

  “Is the Jolly Green Giant green?”

  “Then absolutely. I think there’re still a couple of aprons Helen used in that bottom drawer under the dishtowels.

  She found a white frilly apron and put it on. When Alex and Emma arrived a moment later, Margie put them to work setting the dining room table for eight with the gold-rimmed Lennox and sparkling Waterford in the china cabinet.

  “Would you like a glass?” Jake held up a bottle of merlot in front of Margie while she separated egg yolks for the Hollandaise sauce.

  “My mother doesn’t drink,” Emma snapped as she strode through the kitchen.

  “That’s not exactly true.” Margie turned to Jake and shrugged. “Dan and I didn’t indulge very often because he had to abstain a minimum of eight hours before a flight. The airline cutbacks reduced the number of pilots, so he was on-call a lot.” She pointed at the bottle. “I’ll have a small glass if you’re opening it.”

  An hour later, she laid the vegetable platter and an assortment of cheeses and crackers on the cocktail table in the living room. When the bell chimed in the center hall, Jake sprinted to the foyer to answer the door.

  He pulled the elegant redhead standing on the threshold into his arms and squeezed her willowy figure close while he kissed her on the lips. “Rox, you look great. Damn, I’ve missed you.”

  His ex-wife wore a sophisticated ivory linen dress that complimented her flawless complexion and coppery hair. She caressed Jake’s jaw and wiped her eyes. “I’ve missed you too, Honey.”

  He took her suitcase and set it next to the coat closet in the hall. “You’re still planning to stay here tonight, right?”

  “If you don’t mind. Where’s my future daughter-in-law? I can’t wait to meet her.”

  Envy gnawed at Margie’s insides as she watched their exchange of affection from the living room. They didn’t behave like any divorced couple she’d ever known. Maybe Jake hadn’t insisted Alex make peace with his mother simply because he was worried about his son’s relationship with her. Perhaps Jake really hoped to reconcile with his ex.

  Emma wandered out to the foyer, leaving Alex hanging back in the living room with Margie. Jake pulled her daughter forward. “Rox, this is Emma. Em—Alex’s mother. You can either call her Roxanne or Mom.”

  She smiled and hugged the much taller woman. “I’m glad to meet you.”

  Roxanne tipped Emma’s face up. “Jake didn’t exaggerate when he told me how sweet you are.” She held her at an arm’s length and studied the cornflower blue sundress Emma had worn. “And you’re just as pretty.” Roxanne glanced up as Alex stepped out of the living room. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I can’t believe how fast you grew up.”

  His shoulders shuddered as he choked out a brusque, “Hi.”

  Roxanne stepped closer and gently touched his face. “You look so much like your dad when he was your age.”

  A terse nod seemed to be all Alex could handle. He brushed her hand from his cheek as if it were a pesky fly and led the way into the living room. “This is Emma’s mom, Margie Bradford.” Alex waved toward her, obviously stumped on how to address her to avoid confusion between her and his mother. Eventually he shrugged. “Mom, meet Roxanne, my uhh—mother.”

  Roxanne smiled and clasped Margie’s extended hand, gazing at her with an assessing expression. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Maggie.”

  Margie’s stomach twisted in a dozen knots as she glanced at the kids. Had they noticed Roxanne’s emphasis on the word finally and the fact she’d called her Maggie?

  The doorbell broke the tension, and Jake let his ex-father-in-law in. He’d told Margie his son had continued seeing Roxanne’s dad, but Alex’s estrangement from his mother had strained his relationship with his maternal grandfather.

  Alex made the
introductions, and after Margie shook Alexander Warrington’s hand, the man pulled his grandson aside and fished an envelope from the interior pocket of his suit jacket.

  “Take a walk with me, Alex. I have something for you.” The silver-haired man put his arm around his grandson’s shoulders and guided him down the hallway.

  Jake and she had agreed to encourage the kids to do as much for themselves financially as possible. Was he going to allow his father-in-law to give Alex the easy way out?

  When Nick and Helen arrived moments later, Margie sidled up to Jake and muttered under her breath, “Is your dad aware that I’m Emma’s mother?”

  “Yes. Don’t worry. I asked everyone not to say anything in front of the kids.”

  Helen reminded Margie of Betty White from The Golden Girls. There was little wonder that Alex had thrived in the good-natured woman’s care. She was exactly how she imagined a nurturing grandmother to be.

  Jake’s dad hadn’t changed much except his hair was now completely silver, and a few more wrinkles lined his distinguished face.

  They all smiled through the farce of Jake’s introduction. Nick squeezed Margie’s hand and winked at her. “From what my son’s told us about you, I feel like I already know you.”

  Jake jerked his head toward the kitchen. “Maggie, why don’t we let the kids serve everyone drinks? I could use your help.”

  Gladly. Anything to escape the bubbling cauldron of tension in the living room.

  ~~~

  Roxanne sipped the club soda Emma brought her and watched her son dote on his shy fiancée. He was so much like Jake. It took all of five minutes to see that Emma’s adoring devotion filled Alex’s need to protect her.

  If Maggie had been anything like her daughter nineteen years ago, Roxanne understood exactly why Jake had fallen so hard for her. He’d always had a soft spot for ingenuous waifs—a role Roxanne had never been able to pull off.

  For years, she’d tried to play the part for him, acting as a foil to his nurturing, alpha personality. Unfortunately, her need to call the shots herself was way too strong to ever be compatible with a man as dynamic as her ex-husband.