Returning Pride

by Jill Sanders

  By the end of the hour, Allison had discovered a new love. The children in her class had not only shown her she could teach art, but they had shown her that life was fun. Since her return home, she’d been caught up in a whirlwind of doctor meetings and her mother’s moods. She had smiled and laughed more in the last hour than she had since returning home.

  Walking into Tanya’s office she had a huge smile on her face and her mind was made up. She was going to take the teaching job. She was going to be a middle school art teacher, she laughed inwardly.

  Three days later, she thought really hard about backing down. Leaving the house had even become a task since her mother had another “episode,” as she had started calling them. Thank goodness she had calmed down before Mrs. Evans had arrived. Then her car had acted up at the town’s only stop sign, causing everyone who had been outside and downtown to look over at her after the loud backfire. Of course, she had stalled it trying to quickly leave. She had to wave off the old men who were approaching from their permanent residence of twenty-odd years, outside the old barber shop.

  To add to her day, she had to spend more than five minutes getting the two Simmons sisters to stop arguing. They had been fighting over whether Jenny’s painting of a flower was that of a daisy or if it was just a weed like Julie, the older of the twins, was saying it was.

  She had enjoyed when Eric Everett had shown her his painting of his gray cat. It not only looked like a cat, but he’d actually listened to her instructions about how to draw the back legs and had done them correctly.

  Allison had been debating whether she wanted to be a school art teacher or to go back to the city and deal with all the art critics she so desperately hated. She came to the conclusion that the kids were easier to deal with at this point in her life.

  It had been a long day; her head ached, her feet ached, and her back ached. How could so many little kids cause so much destruction? By the end of the day, her art room had looked like a large tornado had pushed through it.

  The weather had been nice and warm for days. However, now the light rain that was falling was nothing more than a burden to her.

  Parking her car in the drive, she was looking forward to a nice hot bath, maybe a glass of wine. Turning the door knob, she discovered the front door was locked. Taking out her keys, she unlocked the deadbolt. Only to have it snap locked again.

  “Mother!” She could hear her on the other side of the door. “Mother, it’s Allison,” Turning her key again, she tried the door handle, it was locked. She unlocked it, just in time to hear the deadbolt lock again. Laughing to herself, she tried a fourth time, only to have it happen again.

  “Mother! Let me in!” She wasn’t finding this funny anymore. Every time she would unlock the deadbolt, the door handle would lock. Then when she unlocked the door handle, the deadbolt would be locked quickly.

  “I know who you are. I’ve told you before, you can’t have any of it,” The deadbolt slid home again.

  “Mother, please let me in. It’s wet out here and I’m tired.” When her mother didn’t respond, she sat on the front steps, protected from the rain under the small overhang.

  Pulling out her cell phone, she messaged the only person she knew could help calm her mother down.

  Waiting for his reply seemed to take forever. Finally he messaged, “I’ll be right there.”

  Iian had the day off and since there were men at his house installing his new carpet, he’d decided to swing by Megan and Todd’s place. He had made his famous chili earlier to take to their guests at the bed and breakfast. He enjoyed cooking meals for the guests and usually stayed on for lunch.

  He liked visiting with Megan, but it was really the kids he came to see. He loved spending time playing with little Matthew and Sara. Matthew was a shy little thing around others, but Iian brought out the monster in him. He liked to wrestle in the yard and play with little cars or trucks he always bought for the boy.

  Sara was his precious diamond, as he liked to call her. Her chubby one-year-old cheeks just called out to be kissed and snuggled with. She giggled and smiled when he tickled her, and when he left for the day she gave him sloppy kisses that left a soft spot on his heart. So after enjoying another great visit with his family, he headed home to see how the progress was going.

  Walking into the place just as the rain started, the smell hit him full force: paint, stain, and new carpet. Smiling to himself, he headed up the stairs. Looking into Todd’s old room first, he saw the carpet was already done. The plush Berber floor and fresh off-white paint made the room look brand new. Seeing that his old bedroom was also done, he headed into his father’s room. He really had to start thinking of it as his room, someday.

  There were two guys picking up small carpet clippings. He could tell that they hadn’t noticed him yet, so he stood in the door and just looked. The room was three times the size of his old bedroom. On one wall was a large archway leading into the master bathroom, which hadn’t been used in years. The glass-walled shower sparkled since his sister had come over and cleaned it. It was the only job that they would let her do to help out, since she was growing bigger every day. The marble double sinks his father had installed for his mother on their wedding day gleamed, as well. Megan had seen to cleaning the rest of the bathroom. Everything smelled and looked new.

  Smiling to himself, he thought of asking Aaron and Todd to help him move the massive bed and the rest of his furniture back down tomorrow.

  After the carpet crew left, he started bringing down some of the smaller stuff, himself including the air mattress he was going to use. He was standing in the empty master bedroom when he saw a movement out of the corner of his eyes and swore he smelled his father.

  Just then his cell phone vibrated with a new message. Looking down, he grabbed it from his jeans and quickly looked back up towards the empty archway and shook his head. He needed one night of real sleep, he thought, as he looked at the text message from Allison.

  Ten minutes later he pulled up in front of the Adams’ house. Allison was sitting on the steps of the porch. Her eyes were pink and he could tell she was either about to cry or had been crying.

  The steady spring rain had continued through dusk and a slight chill was now in the air. He could see her shivering as he walked up the path.

  “Still can’t get in the house?” He signed.

  “I stopped trying. It’s so frustrating. She was yelling at me like I was a stranger trying to break into my own house.”

  Helping her to stand up, he held onto her hand and felt her fingers were chilled. Walking over to the door he knocked.

  “Mrs. Adams, it’s Iian Jordan. Can I come in?” he looked over to Allison to gauge if there had been a reply. When she shook her head “no”, he continued. “Mrs. Adams remember I’m deaf, I can’t hear you. I just wanted to come in and see if…” The door swung open.

  Her mother was in large gray sweat pants with a huge white tee-shirt. Her hair was a mess, and there were clothes thrown all over the living room, again.

  “Oh, Iian,” she stopped to primp her hair. “Well, if I knew you were coming, I would have made some of my cookies. Well, don’t stand out there in the cold. You two kids had better come in.”

  Her mother was treating her like a stranger which only made her feel worse. Her headache had only gotten worse sitting out in the cold on the front porch. When she had seen Iian drive up, she had almost lost it and cried right there in front of him.

  By the time she shuffled her mother into bed, she was sure she would need a half bottle of wine or a big bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream to make her feel better.

  Iian had stayed around and entertained her mother while she had picked up all her clothes. Her mother had thrown all over the living room, something she had been doing lately. Why she chose to do this was still a mystery to her. She was starting to think that she would hire someone to watch her full time. Mrs. Evans could only watch her for a few hours at a time. Maybe somebody else could watch o
ut for her the rest of the time.

  When she walked back into the living room, she saw him sitting on the couch, looking through an old photo album her mother had handed him earlier.

  Walking over, she sat next to him. There on the pages were she and Abby on her father’s old boat. Boating had always been a part of her life. Living on the coast, she had loved to go out for trips with her family. Sometimes they would spend weeks on the small sailboat they had owned.

  Looking over at Iian, she signed, “Thank you for helping tonight.”

  “Don’t mention it. I always did have a soft spot for your mom.” He reached over and toyed with the ends of her braid. She tried hard not to purr like a cat, but the light contact helped ease her headache.

  “You’ve got a bad headache?” He spoke this time. Her eyes had closed when he started to stroke her hair. He continued to rub her head and then he nudged her to turn her back towards him. “I bet it can be stressful dealing with a bunch of kids all day, then coming home to this.” He kept talking as he made his way down her neck to her shoulders.

  The tension he felt there was almost shocking. “I’ve been working on the house all week and sleeping on the down-stair’s couch. They just finished putting carpet in all the upstairs rooms today. It looks wonderful.” He continued to talk about what he was doing around his place in hopes of helping her relax.

  She moaned in pleasure as his warm fingers moved up and down her neck. He was talking and she could tell he wasn’t expecting her to answer him back. When she felt like she could just slide down the couch and fall asleep, she turned to him. Looking directly in his eyes, she leaned forward and kissed him. She had wanted to kiss him since he’d walked up to her on the front porch.

  She had kissed Iian all of four times. The first time was when they were no more than children. The second was a chaste peck on New Years. The third was a heated kiss over a hot stove. This kiss was unlike any before. The slowness of the sweet kiss lasted until she began to shake with want.

  She tasted like spring. She felt better than he had imagined over the years. Taking his time, he savored every inch of her mouth. Her lips were softer than any others that had come before. Her taste, sweeter than anyone else. He could lose himself in her mouth, in her taste. He had waited years, a lifetime it seemed, and wanted to savor every moment, every feeling.

  He was sure that if he could bottle up the essence of her, he would quickly become a millionaire. He ran his hands over her slender form, enjoying the slight curve of her hips. He slowly traced the lines as she clung tight to his shoulders.

  When he started to pull back, she reached up and grabbed a handful of his hair to pull him back to her mouth. This time, she controlled the speed. He could feel her vibrating and knew she was moaning. He could feel her melting against him. He used his hands on her hips and pulled her closer. She was soft, so very thin, and he enjoyed the feel of her body next to his.

  Finally, she pulled back and rested her head against his shoulder. Taking a big breath, he enjoyed the feel and smell of her.

  When she walked him out to his car, he kissed her again. He could just stand here forever with her on the front walk, in the night air, with the sparkling stars overhead looking down on them. The rain had washed everything clean, the clouds had dissipated, and the stars were out lighting the whole sky. The night air was still crisp enough that it reminded you that you were alive. Holding her closer, he thought the feel of her helped him feel alive as well.

  It was late when he got back to the house. He was pumped. He couldn’t explain it, but being with Allison gave him energy to spare. Instead of hitting the shower and bed, he headed back up to the large attic. He figured he would use the extra energy to bring a few things back downstairs from storage in the attic.

  He spotted a large luggage box that he hadn’t seen in years. He knew the precious items that lay inside, since the trunk had been up in the attic forever. No one really opened the box. In fact, he thought the last time someone looked inside was when he was a kid looking for some chalk.

  On this particular evening, however, he felt the need to go over and open the lid. His grandmother’s painting supplies were neatly tucked away. A large wooden easel sat in pieces that he thought could easily be put back together. Paint brushes and other art supplies were neatly tucked in individual boxes with labels. Oil paints that he thought might be dried and unusable were still in their packages unopened. There were canvases that sat lined up along the back of the large box.

  Making a decision, he started to drag the heavy box towards the stairs.

  Chapter Six

  The day after her mother’s little lock the front door game, she was back at the school enjoying one of her favorite groups of kids. Several of them were happily drawing the flower arrangement she had brought along with her. It was almost lunch time when Megan stuck her head in her door.

  Happy to see her friend, she rushed to grab the little girl struggling to get out of her arms. Sara was one of the happiest, chubbiest babies Allison had ever had the pleasure of handling. The girl was giggling and drooling and had her faithful bunny hanging from her chubby hands. She wore a light pink dress with ribbons down the front. Her blonde curly hair had matching ribbons. The small white sandals were almost falling off her tiny feet. Matthew was shyly standing behind his mother’s side. He was dressed in khaki pants with a blue shirt and a small tie. His dark hair had a slight curl to it and she could see the Jordan cleft in his little chin, so much so that he looked like a smaller version of his daddy and uncle.

  “Here’s my favorite kids.” She held onto the squirming girl. “What a great surprise!”

  “We were just down here registering Matthew for preschool next year and thought we would stop by to see if you wanted to have some lunch with us.”

  “What a wonderful idea. We just have ten more minutes to go before the bell.” She turned to the room and said, “Class, this is Miss Megan and her children Matthew and Sara. Please welcome them.”

  Her class behaved wonderfully and sent out a greeting.

  “I can set these two up with some crayons. I’ve got paint jackets that they can wear so they don’t mess up their pretty clothes.”

  Less than two minutes later, Megan, Matthew and Sara sat at one of her classroom tables with the other kids drawing.

  She thought that they had actually enjoyed their time. After the bell rang, it took her less than a minute to clear the tables and leave for lunch.

  It was over lunch that Megan said something that bothered her.

  “I don’t mean to be a snoop, but I can’t not say anything. You know my past, where I came from. What I came from.” Megan looked to both of her kids who were happily eating next to her. “I’m concerned about one of your students. I only sat with him for a few minutes, but well, I know the signs.”

  “What are you talking about?” Allison was starting to be very worried. She knew Megan’s past, the abuse she had suffered from her ex-husband. Did she think one of her students was being abused?

  “Some of the things little Tommy Williams was drawing concerned me.” She looked over to her own son, who looked like his tired head would drop in his bowl of macaroni and cheese. “Allison, he was drawing dead animals. At that young of an age, boys should be drawing cars, trains, or trucks, not animals with their heads ripped off,” she whispered.

  “What? He was drawing that? I know Kevin. His father is into hunting; he probably takes the boy with him. I’ll have a talk with Tommy about what we should and shouldn’t draw in class.”

  “Well, it’s more than that.” Megan hesitated.

  “Megan, you can tell me anything. You know that.”

  “I think he is being abused,” she blurted out.

  When Allison just looked at her friend, she continued.

  “There were marks on his arms, and some of the things he was saying about his sister concerned me. Well, I don’t know what the school can do, but I think you should have someone look into it
. At least keep a close eye on him and follow your own instincts.” Megan leaned over and pulled a sleepy Sara into her lap.

  “You know I never did like Kevin Williams. He was the star football and baseball player. The only sport he wasn’t the star in was basketball. Your brother-in-law Iian took that roll. But Kevin always acted like he was better than everyone else. He made fun of others, pushing the smaller kids around, and he cheated on his girlfriends. He actually asked me to a dance in junior high, when he’d been going out with someone else. That’s the dance I went to with Iian.” She smiled, remembering that night.

  “I’m going to look into this Megan. The thought of any child being treated bad…” she stopped and took a deep breath for her friend’s sake. “You know it hurts me knowing what you went through, after you told me.”

  “I know,” Megan reached over and patted her friend’s arm.

  “Thank you for telling me. I guess I’ve been too caught up in my new teaching role to notice some things.”