Charming Dave

by Doreen Alsen

  “You like Mr. Mason.”

  “Yes, dumpling. Very much. He’s a good man, someone you can count on, or else I wouldn’t bring him around here.”

  “Are you going to marry him?”

  Where did that come from? She frowned. “Well, for one thing, he hasn’t asked yet. And it’s too soon to make a decision like that.”

  “Okay.” Shanna frowned. “Do you, like, really, really like him?”

  “Yeah, I really, really like him.” She sighed. “But it doesn’t matter how much I like him. If you, Ruark, and Patsy don’t like him, then that’s it. The three of you come first, forever and always.”

  Ainslie opened her arms, and Shanna flowed into them. “Everything is going to be okay, pumpkin.” She rubbed her hands up and down Shanna’s back. “Just trust me. You’ll see.”

  Shanna snarfled back some tears. “I love you, Momma.”

  “I know, I know, sugar. I love you, too. Nothing’s going to hurt you ever again. I promise.”

  “Cross your heart and hope to die?” Shanna looked up at her.

  “You know it, doodle bug.”

  ****

  Three days later, Dave took a deep breath before knocking on Joe L’Amore’s door. All set for this showdown with the parents of the kids who were bullying Shanna and Ruark, he couldn’t wait to take them on.

  Ainslie had gotten right to work and gotten the harassing texts and private messages. They were just what they needed to enforce the school’s policies regarding punishment for the cyber-bullying.

  He knocked on the door. Joe told him to come in, so Dave pushed it open. “Hello,” he said to the room in general.

  Stone dead silence from the parents. Joe smiled, stood, and gestured to the only open chair. “Thanks for coming, Mr. Mason.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it.” Settling in the chair, he pulled the kids’ files out of his briefcase. Brody Carpenter, the school’s attorney, sat in the chair next to Dave’s.

  The air hung low and stagnant, like a dark, toxic cloud. The parents of the kids glowered at him, as if they were cats left out in the rain. They most likely felt they didn’t need an attorney, since Elliot Bradford was one.

  What did they say about lawyers representing themselves? That they have fools for clients.

  Dave felt pretty sure they would prove that theory today.

  Joe L’Amore shredded his throat with a room clearing humpf. “Okay, we’re all here. So, here’s how this is going to go. Mr. Carpenter will go over the reasons the boys got benched for the season, as well as why the girls have been taken off the cheering squad. You’ll have a chance to present your issues, then we’ll hear Mr. Carpenter’s response.”

  He pushed his glasses up his nose and then held up the School Code of Behavior, which every father, mother, guardian and student signed every year. “You’ve all got the document outlining the rules and expectations, yes? And a copy of all your signatures acknowledging your compliance, yes?”

  “I don’t think we need to go into all this. I’m sure the matter can be cleared up very quickly.” Hank Brewster said.

  “I’m sure you want to spare the Logan children any embarrassment.” Elliot Bradford folded the Code of Behavior in half and slid it into his briefcase, without giving it a glance.

  “This year we added a cyber-bullying policy to the other policies about student harassment,” Carpenter said. “The rules are clear, and there is a zero tolerance clause, for the children’s safety. Now, what I have here are some copies of threats being made to Shanna and Ruark Logan, along with the signed statements from witnesses who came forward to tell us about the physical harassment against Ruark Logan in the boys’ locker room. Then there’s the destruction of property, the willful destruction of an iPod.”

  He passed out an envelope to each of the parents. “All the documentation is there. Take your time going over it.” Carpenter stood there like a sentinel guarding a fortress.

  Bradford barely glanced at the envelope. “Let’s cut to the chase. Our kids are being made scapegoats in a situation the Logan kids initiated. And they’re getting away with it because their mother is sleeping with Mason here.”

  Dave inhaled a sharp breath. His hands balled into fists at his sides. Every muscle in his body quivered with restraint. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from defending Ainslie and her children. It more than chapped his hide to stand back and let Brody Carpenter do the talking.

  “The punishment for Ruark Logan is correct according to the student code. He started a fight, he got suspended. End of story.” Joe L’Amore sat back in his chair. “Shanna Logan has not violated one word of the code. She is, however, the victim of some serious cyber-bullying, by your children, as evidenced by the documents we’ve given you.”

  “Further, Ruark Logan is the victim of not only cyber-bullying, but actual attacks on his person, as well as the loss of his personal property.” Carpenter held up an envelope like the ones the parents had received. “It’s all here. Now, if you’re not willing to make sure your children leave Ruark and Shanna Logan alone, both here and on the internet, and phone, you’ll leave us no choice but petition the court for an order of protection to insure the Logan children’s safety. Failure to comply will mean expulsion from school.”

  “You can try.” Elliot Bradford smiled, baring a wealth of pointy, sharky teeth. “I’ll get a judge to dismiss it right away and then sue the school for defaming our kids’ reputations, and a host of other things.” He stood.

  “So be it.” L’Amore stood. “We will enforce every word of the Student Handbook, as well as the Sports Code of Conduct to the letter. We stand behind Mr. Mason’s decisions regarding the in-school suspensions, as well as the restrictions regarding the football team and cheerleading squad.” He looked at his watch. “Are we done here?” he asked Brody Carpenter.

  “I believe we are.”

  Bradford turned red in the face, nearly knocking over his chair as he lumbered to his feet. “This is nowhere near done. No football means no playing in college, which is unacceptable. You’ll be hearing from me.”

  Noisy chairs scraping across the floor accompanied their march out Joe L’Amore’s door.

  “I’ll go down to the courthouse to get the wheels in motion for the orders of protection, just to be prepared.” Brody looked at Dave. “We’ve got the evidence, and it’ll stick, so don’t worry.”

  “Thanks Brody.” Dave stood as Brody did. “I’m grateful for the back-up.”

  “It’s in the job description.” Brody gave Joe and Dave a sharp salute and left.

  “Right.” Dave looked at Joe. “Thank you.”

  “Like Brody said, it’s in the job description. You did yours by enforcing the code of conduct to the letter. I hope this helps the Logan kids feel safer.”

  “Me too.” Dave nodded. “Me too.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  One good thing about losing all her cleaning jobs, Ainslie thought as she sat down at a table at Hope’s restaurant, was that she had more time for meetings and errands for the Mirror, Mirror On The Wall Ball. Today she needed to take care of some last minute details with Hope Monahan.

  It kept her busy enough that she didn’t drive herself crazy with all the drama surrounding Shanna and Ruark. They were both back to school, restraining orders soundly in place, thanks to some threatening Facebook posts and private messages.

  It used to be that school drama stayed at school. With Facebook, the bullies could harass you 24/7. It was reassuring that Addington High had a stern cyber bullying policy and that they enforced it, no matter who the bully was.

  Thanks to Dave, the school superintendent Joe L’Amore, and the school lawyer Brody Carpenter, her children felt safe enough to go back to school.

  The cool, serene atmosphere at Hope’s soothed the rough edges of her composure. The hostess led her to a small table and Ainslie sat and absorbed the peace.

  She really admired and liked Hope. Hope had built an at home kitchen caterin
g business into one of the best restaurants in New England, all on her own. There were rumors Hope was going to be a judge on some new reality cooking show.

  Well, if any one could make it happen, Hope could. She had more energy than the Tazmanian Devil.

  “Sorry, I’m late!” Hope said as she slipped into the table. “I’m trying out a new dish for the Ball, and I want to test run it tonight. Did Renee bring you something to drink?”

  “No worries, I’m all set.” Ainslie reached into her bag and pulled out a pen and a notebook. “I’m just trying to finalize some details and show you photos of some of the mirrors the artists are donating, in case you want to imitate some of the food in the colors of the mirrors.” She pushed a file folder across the table.

  “Oooooh, I’ve been itching to see some of these.” Hope pulled her glasses out of her chef’s tunic and put them on. “Aren’t they charming!” She pointed at one done in blue and green decoupage with mermaids frolicking along the frame. The artist had imbued the mirror with whimsy and humor.

  “That’s my favorite,” Ainslie said.

  “They’re all wonderful.” Hope shuffled through the photo book. “I want them all!”

  “Good. Let’s hope someone feels like you do and we make a lot of money on them.”

  Hope closed the book. “You do good work.”

  “I was on so many committees in Charleston, I got a lot of practice. And I love to do it.”

  Eyes direct and honest, Hope nodded. “I’m wondering if you’d like to work for me, as an event planner. I’ve put the restaurant into that Best Tastes of Addington competition.” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s going to take a lot of time, and I won’t be able to really give the catering part of the business the time it deserves. I need someone I trust to handle that part of Hope’s. I think you’re perfect for the job.”

  Uh, wow! Her brain couldn’t form a sentence to save her life. She forced herself to focus. “I can’t give you any references, except for Bobby. Are you sure you want to hire me?”

  “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t think you could do the job.”

  “I’m flattered.” Excitement zapped through every synapse she owned.

  “It will be pretty much a full time job, ’cause even when I am around, I can’t consult with everybody who wants us to cater their event, its gotten that big. I need someone who knows how to plan and execute big events as well as the smaller ones. It’d be mostly day time, with some nights to oversee some of the bigger events.”

  Oh, my stars and garters. Full time? She could quit The End Zone to do something she really loved to do, but more importantly, be with her children at night. “I’d love to be your event coordinator.”

  Hope grinned. “Excellent! Come on back tomorrow, and we can go over details, and you can sign the paperwork.” The pager hooked on Hope’s belt buzzed. She looked at it and swore. “I’m sorry, I’m needed back in the kitchen.”

  Standing, Hope held out her hand to Ainslie. Ainslie stood on rubbery, unsteady legs and shook hands with her new boss. “No problem. When do you want me to come around for the paperwork?”

  “Tomorrow, in between lunch, while we’re prepping for dinner, say about 3:00.”

  “That sounds great.” She’d have to make arrangements for someone to pick up Patsy, or to leave her in aftercare a little longer.

  A job that didn’t involve the backbreaking work of cleaning, that didn’t mean dealing with hauling beer and nachos until her feet throbbed.

  A day job meaning she could be a better parent to her children.

  She couldn’t wait to tell Dave. She punched in his phone number.

  “Mason.”

  “Hi, Dave.”

  “Ainslie, hi! What’s up?”

  “Hope Monahan offered me a full-time job as her events coordinator.”

  “That’s great!” Ainslie could tell he was smiling by the sound of his voice. “Are you going to take it?”

  “Oh, yeah, I’m going to take it.”

  “Congratulations! We’ll have to celebrate later on.”

  She licked her lips. “My thoughts exactly.”

  ****

  “Andi wants me to dress up like the frog prince.” Mike scowled as he popped a pretzel into his mouth and bit into it with a huge crunch. “The freakin’ frog who needs a kiss to turn back into a prince.” He shuddered.

  He and Ian had caught up with Dave at The End Zone. They were all sitting at the bar, Mike and Ian complaining about the Mirror, Mirror on the Wall Ball.

  “It’s not easy being green.” Ian stared into his pint of Guinness. “Gina wants us to dress as D’Artagnan and Constance.” He shrugged. “It’s not a fairy tale, right? But that’s what she wants.”

  Mike took a slug of his Heinekin. “You need to find one of those boa covered hats the Three Mouseketeers wore,” he said to Ian.

  “Musketeers, not Mouseketeers.” Ian corrected. “I think I can find a hat without feathers.” He frowned. “At least I hope I can. I can go to the theater department at Barrett and see what I can borrow.”

  “You’re lucky you don’t have to go, Dave.” Mike toasted Dave with his beer. “Whose idea was this costume ball thing anyway?”

  Spike looked up from the glasses she was washing. “I do believe it was Ainslie’s idea.”

  “Don’t make me hurt you for criticizing Ainslie.” Dave gave Mike his hairiest eyeball.

  “Heh. That means you’re going then. What humiliating costume is she making you wear?” Mike grumbled.

  “I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it.” They’d had a lot of other stuff to do, like celebrate her new job, that didn’t really require conversation.

  “I heard her talking to Andi, and I think she’s going as Cinderella, since she already has a ball gown or two and a tiara left over from her beauty pageant days.” Spike grinned and snapped her fingers. “You should go as Prince Charming.”

  “That sounds like a splendid idea!” Ian looked positively giddy at the prospect.

  “Makes me feel the frog thing isn’t so bad.” Mike rubbed his chin. “Does Ainslie have an extra sparkly tiara for you?

  “Maybe she’ll have one of those shiny sash things for you to wear. You’ll look soooo cute.” Mike sat back in his chair and linked his hands behind his head.

  Ian snorted. “Adorable, even.”

  “Don’t forget the jaunty little jacket and the white leggings. Do they make lacey white leggings in your size?” Mike clapped Dave on the back. “Oh, and those puffy pants with those slits that are a different color, the real short poofy ones. What do you call those pants?”

  “Breeches.” Ian nodded. “He should also have a cod piece. Maybe a sequined cod piece. You know how the royalty love their bling.”

  “Oooooh.” Mike pretended to swoon. “You’ll be the belle of the ball.”

  “Okay, okay. You can stop now.” Dave plucked a pretzel out of the bowl on the bar and threw it at Mike. “If Ainslie wants me to dress up as Prince Charming, then I’ll dress up like Prince Charming.”

  Mike grinned. Ian glowered.

  Dave shrugged. “You guys are making fools of yourself for Andi and Gina, just to keep them happy. Why can’t I do the same for Ainslie?”

  Mike held out a hand in front of Ian. “Told you. Pay up.”

  Ian grumbled as he pulled out his wallet. “Why couldn’t you have waited three more weeks?” he asked Dave.

  “You guys made a bet on me and Ainslie?”

  They both looked at Dave with well, duh looks on their faces. Of course they’d made a bet.

  Dave shook his head. “I’m so glad you’re tracking my love life, like little girls tweeting about Justin Bieber.”

  “Just let me know when you want to go out picking colors for the wedding and all that crap.” Mike signaled Spike for another round of beers.

  “God, Mike.” Dave rested his elbows against the bar. “You’re really a pain in the ass.”

  “That’s true,” Ian added
as he looked at Mike. “You’re a huge pain in the ass.”

  Spike put the new round of beers in front of the guys. “Prost!”

  Mike and Ian held up their glasses. “To Dave. Good bye, Freedom,” Mike toasted.

  Mike was such a faker. He loved being married to Andi. Ian would die for Gina. Neither of them were fooling anybody. Dave held his glass up and saluted Ian and Mike with it.

  They drank deep, beer glugging down their throats, the fizz pricking their throats as they swallowed. Dave figured he’d never had better friends.

  As for asking Ainslie to marry him, he’d have to wait until her kids were ready for it. As much as he wished it could be otherwise, it felt like Shanna, Ruark, and Patsy just weren’t ready for a new daddy.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  “Are you going to marry Mr. Mason?” Patsy moved her peas around on a plate, thinking Ainslie wouldn’t notice that she wasn’t eating them. Her baby girl should just learn that Momma sees and knows all.

  Wait! Marry Dave? Where was that coming from? What a question. “Why do you ask, baby?”

  “He’s over here a lot, and he’s doing a lot of stuff to take care of us.” Using her fork, Patsy smooshed the offensive peas in a green gooey mess.

  Shanna and Ruark looked at Ainslie, eyes wide and sparkling, like they were trying to see into her brain.

  “It’s a little early to think about getting married. It’s good to take these things easy. Slow, so we can figure out if it’s the right thing to do.”

  “Would you marry him if we weren’t around?” Shanna tended to say what the three of them were thinking.

  “That’s a silly question.”

  “Would you?” Ruark asked.

  “It’s not an option.” Ainslie looked at their expectant faces. “We’re a family. It has to be right for all of us. And besides, he hasn’t asked me, so it’s all a moot point.”

  “What’s a moo point? Does Mr. Mason have a cow?” Patsy asked as she spread a layer of mashed potatoes over the smashed peas.

  “No, a moot point is something that’s not important to what you’re talking about.”