Reluctant Housemates

by Linda Barrett

  “Don’t,” Rachel said, a frown forming. “Too much, too soon, can make you nauseous when you start running again.”

  He paused with the cup halfway to his mouth.

  “Unless,” she added, “you’re planning to walk back at an easy pace.”

  The hopeful note in her voice made him wince. “Are you walking?”

  She shook her head. “I’m finishing what I started the way I planned it.”

  He dumped a second cup of water on his head. “Then, let’s go.”

  She shrugged, turned her back to him and started jogging, quickly picking up her pace. And ignoring him again. He didn’t like it, but he wasn’t stupid enough to call her on it while still participating in the event. She took her sports seriously. Hell, she took everything seriously. That alone could drive him batty. At least, he tried to store serious stuff in a separate place from fun stuff. He divided his life into neat compartments. Every part in a different box. Work. Women. Writing. Family. Kevin.

  So, why did he want to get to know Rachel better? Because she was his closest neighbor? Because she was his boss? Two perfectly good reasons. But they didn’t answer his question completely.

  He became aware of more people, groups along both sides of the beach, cheering on the final runners as they approached the finish line. In the end, Rachel and he were not the only ones to do the ten kilometers, but the number was small, and most participants were walking in. The race was a community activity, Jack reminded himself, not a professional marathon.

  “Look, Rachel.” Jack pointed to a group of boys trudging toward the finish. “Your nephew’s coming in now, too, with a gang around him.”

  She studied the teens for a minute. “They’re all as tall and lanky as David. Maybe it’s the school basketball team.”

  “David’s got a lot of friends,” said Jack, turning to her again.

  The delight in her expression, the love in her eyes and in her smile when she looked at her nephew stole the breath from his lungs. When she loved, she loved hard. Who knew that his simple comment would produce such a deep reaction?

  “It’s wonderful that he has so many friends,” said Rachel. “He’ll have good memories.”

  “High school memories are always good from the perspective of distance,” replied Jack. At least for most people.

  She didn’t respond.

  “What’s the matter, sweetheart? Don’t you agree?”

  She spun around and pointed a finger at him, all traces of tenderness gone. “Please stop calling me sweetheart. Stop the flirting. With me, anyway. Save your charm for the Mallorys of the world.” She plunged into the crowd and disappeared.

  Taken totally by surprise, he could only stare at her retreating back. He didn’t like it, but he’d gotten his answers. Now he knew why she’d given him the silent treatment for the last part of the run. Now he understood why he was intrigued enough to want to know her better.

  She was different from other women. Unique. He’d picked up on that the very first time he’d met her. He’d never forget that night swim. A real live mermaid with a bite! A month had passed since then and he hadn’t changed his mind about her. She really could bite hard. And now she’d judged him, found him lacking, and she didn’t bother to hide her feelings.

  He was not often in the position of a rejectee! But it figured that the one time he was becoming serious, the one woman he’d started to admire didn’t want any part of him. He laughed at the irony, welcoming the pang of disappointment he felt as a well-timed reminder not to get involved with her at all.

  BY THE END OF THE FIRST week of school, Rachel would have sworn she’d met thousands of people. Either in person or on the phone, she spoke with students, parents, faculty, publishers’ reps, school board members, more students, more parents. Maybe tens of thousands!

  “I’m loving it,” she said to Dr. Bennett on Friday afternoon. “Busier than in Kansas. More students at this school, but for the most part, my responsibilities are falling into place.”

  She wouldn’t complain about the teachers who still teased her. “Rachel, I’m waiting. If your homework’s not in tomorrow, you’ll get a zero.” Then they smiled and continued down the corridor. They thought it was harmless fun—they’d known her since she was born. What they didn’t realize was how much their comments hurt. She hoped they’d get tired of their game soon. If not, she’d take steps. Maybe if Mrs. Drummond asked for her term paper one more time, Rachel might actually call the woman into the office. She swallowed a grin as she pictured the scene.

  She walked back into her own office and collapsed on her chair. A pile of lesson-plan books waited for her attention. She glanced at the top one. Jack Levine’s. She almost dreaded picking it up again. His first week’s plans had read: “Discuss— ‘What is biology?’ ‘What is marine biology?’ ‘What is earth science?’” A good starting point, but no reference to textbooks, readings, homework assignments, projects or anything resembling work for the students.

  She slowly picked up his book and peeked inside. Then slammed it on the table. “Continue discussions,” was all this week’s plan said.

  “Not acceptable,” she murmured, jumping out of her chair and heading for the second-floor science wing. But his classroom was empty. Rachel checked her watch and sighed. No reason for him to still be there at four o’clock. But she was disappointed. She’d seen him only from a distance all week and would have liked to catch up with him. Instead, she’d heard about him. She’d heard a lot about the new “sexy science teacher.” Unfortunately, his presence had not gone unnoticed by the female students. She wondered if he realized he was the subject of speculation.

  She packed the plan books in her wheeled tote and gathered her purse. Time to go home.

  To her surprise, Jack’s truck was in the driveway at Sea View House. The first time all week that he’d been home after school. He probably needed to sleep if he’d been going out every day on his research job. She parked in front of the house and quietly made her way inside.

  The phone rang almost immediately.

  “It’s Jack,” he replied in response to her greeting. “How’d you like to celebrate surviving your first week by going out to dinner with me? I hear the Lobster Pot is very good.”

  “The restaurant is excellent, Jack, but going out together is not a good idea. Thanks for the invitation, anyway.”

  “I didn’t think you were the type to hold a grudge,” he said.

  She knew he was referring to the race—to her indignation at his flirtatious behavior. “I’m not the type to hold a grudge, and your…your…let’s say your kidding around is not why I’m turning you down. Have you ever heard the advice about not mixing business with pleasure?”

  “Sure, I’ve heard of it. Never had to apply it, though.”

  “Oh?” Right.

  “No, most of the women I’ve met in my field were married—usually to other scientists. So I couldn’t mix business with pleasure. Bottom line is that I found my social life elsewhere.”

  “I see,” replied Rachel. “So you actually have lived by the rule whether you intended to or not. Surely you can understand that you and me mixing is not a good idea, so my answer’s still no. But again, thanks.” She gently hung up the phone. At least, he didn’t pursue married women!

  She headed for the bedroom when a sharp knocking at the back door startled her. Jack was on the other side of the glass panes.

  “I’m not changing my mind,” she said immediately upon opening the door.

  “I recognize stubborn. Let’s change the agenda. How about a swim?”

  She stepped outside. The late-afternoon sun still spread its light on the ground. The temperature hovered around seventy-five and the air was dry. Too cool for most people, but…

  “There aren’t many days left to enjoy this,” said Jack, offering words of temptation.

  “You’re right. Give me two minutes. And no ogling!” She closed the door in his face and heard his laughter resonate as he st
epped away. She grabbed a chair back for support as his warm tones stirred a chord deep inside her. Musical, happy and so attractive. She envied him. He had a way of enjoying life that was very appealing.

  HE HADN’T LIED TO HER, he thought, as they swam parallel to the shore. But how could he tell her he’d stayed away from every eligible woman who’d looked at him with hope in her eyes? He went out only with those who had no expectations. Much easier on the emotions that way. Rachel wasn’t a game player, but she was pretty safe, too. She put up great barriers. Laid down lots of rules. Obviously, she had no desire for a real relationship any more than he did.

  But he was finding it damn hard to play by her rules. The “no ogling” one had gone out with the tide as far as he was concerned. How could he not look at and enjoy the woman who was on his mind twenty-four/seven despite his effort to block her out? He’d just try to be circumspect about it. Not too hard as long as they were both in the water.

  She always wore a one piece suit, and today was no exception. A practical style, straps crossed in the back. A suit made for swimming. Maybe someday he’d buy her a frivolous bikini. Hot pink, with flowers. He grinned as he imagined her reaction.

  He dunked his head underwater. How could a man sweat while he was in the Atlantic? A new phenomenon.

  He reemerged and shook the water from his face. Then watched Rachel. She cut the water cleanly, her strokes perfect. Better than his.

  “So, how far did you get?” he asked.

  “In what?”

  “Your swimming career.”

  “I competed, but it was never my career. Just a way out of Pilgrim Cove.”

  “No Olympic aspirations? Didn’t you want to show this town something?” He’d heard the scuttlebutt about Rachel’s schooldays. People seemed surprised at how far she’d come. They’d thought she was a loser. It was difficult to believe they were talking about the same woman who was with him now.

  “Not then,” she answered. “I just wanted to get away. Away from my brother’s reputation. Away from the comparisons.”

  “Away from being second best?” he asked quietly.

  Her eyes narrowed and she rolled onto her back. “Something like that.”

  “I went to the public library today,” he said, floating alongside her. “Saw your dad.”

  “He volunteers there a lot.”

  “He told me. And I hired him.”

  She went under. “What?” she spluttered a second later, coming up for air. “Did you say you hired him?”

  “Come on home,” he replied, reversing direction. “I’ll tell you about it.” He grinned as she followed him. For once, she wasn’t arguing.

  Five minutes later, they waded out of the water and picked up their towels. As Jack rose to his feet, he heard a rapid clicking noise. He looked at Rachel. His boss was shivering from head to foot, her teeth actually chattering as she tried to wrap the towel around herself.

  Without hesitating, Jack stepped closer, adjusted her towel and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m not ogling,” he whispered in her ear, holding her snugly. “I’m just warming you up.”

  She said nothing but didn’t pull away. He held her close, rubbed her arms and soon felt her body relax against him. This was more like it!

  “Hang on, I’m going to dry your legs.” He used his own towel for that and noticed her legs were just as beautiful, firm and shapely up close as in the distance.

  “I guess I’m more accustomed to heated indoor pools these days.” Her voice was low and tentative. Not like the Rachel he was used to.

  Jack stood. “Come on,” he said, reaching for her hand. “Take a hot shower when we get back and you’ll feel fine.”

  She nodded as she kept pace with him.

  “Maybe afterward we can continue our conversation over a grilled steak?”

  She stopped in her tracks and pulled away from him.

  He held up his hand. “Not at a restaurant. I’ll grill it on our porch. We can dine al fresco or inside. Your choice.”

  She looked up and down the beach, glanced up at Sea View House, then sighed.

  “Is it such a hard decision?” he asked quietly.

  “This is a small town. I can’t afford to screw up.”

  Again. Unspoken, but understood as clearly as if she had shouted it.

  “It’s a good town, Rachel. I can feel it. And it’s your home.”

  She looked at him then, her smile as sweet and hopeful as that of a child opening a birthday present. But then she shook her head. “You’re only a tourist, Jack. Here for a while and then gone.”

  A sharp pain pulsed in his gut, and he almost reeled with surprise. “The year’s just starting,” he replied, his voice husky. “Don’t rush it away.”

  She cocked her head. “All right. See you in thirty minutes. I’ll provide a salad.”

  Yes! He wanted to punch the air in victory. Instead, he nodded.

  RACHEL HEADED DOWN the corridor to the school cafeteria on Monday, wishing that Jack would stop nesting in the back of her mind. Their impromptu meal had been filled with conversation, both informative and interesting. She’d learned that he needed Lou’s expertise in researching existing young-adult material in areas relating to marine biology, the lobster industry and conservation issues. He simply had no time to visit the library himself.

  She was delighted that he cared so much, that he wanted to go beyond the standard textbooks. Maybe he needed assistance in organizing materials so he could come up with weekly plans. She could help him with that. And then he’d be sure to cover the entire curriculum.

  Her thoughts drifted from Jack’s teaching methods to her habit of checking out the cafeteria during various lunch hours, making sure enough teachers were on duty and the students were following the rules and behaving themselves. Not that she alone had responsibility for the general conduct of the student body, but she was part of the team. Bob Franklin rotated in and so did Dr. Bennett. Actually, Dr. Bennett had told her he liked being there for a part of each period. He wanted all the students to know who he was.

  As she entered the large room, the din of hundreds of conversations accosted her ears. The tables were crowded with youngsters. All girls at some tables. All boys at others. A few were mixed. Some kids were walking around, looking for a spot, looking for friends. Rachel empathized. She watched a young girl, lunch tray in hand, hesitantly approach an almost-full table and sit down. No one spoke to her. But neither did they tell her the spot was taken. Could have been worse, as Rachel knew from personal experience. Too much experience.

  Rachel did a visual inventory of faculty. Each of the three sections required one teacher. She spotted Mr. Maggio at the far end of the room, walking up and down the aisle. Good. He was a solid teacher with common sense as well.

  Her eyes roved toward the center of the room and she spotted Julie Jacobson, one of the new teachers, looking a little overwhelmed. She’d help her out as soon as the section Rachel was standing in had a teacher of its own. In the meantime, she began to walk up the aisle, stopping occasionally to chat with a group. One table of girls was deep in conversation. Rachel was about to pass by when she heard Jack’s name. She paused to listen.

  “Dr. Levine’s so cool. The coolest teacher in the school.”

  “He’s a real man. Not like the clueless boys in our classes.”

  “I’d love to be stranded on an island with him.”

  The last girl’s eyes were almost closed as she spoke, her words having a dreamlike quality. Rachel wanted to groan. Crushes. And if this table was typical, how many more fifteen-year-old girls had come under his spell? And would in the future?

  She continued her stroll when she saw the man in question approach. His eyes lit up when he saw her.

  “Sorry I’m late. How’re you doing?”

  “No problem, Jack, but…we need to talk.” She glanced over her shoulder. Three pairs of eyes were focused on Jack. She turned to face him again. “Uh, don’t look now, but you’ve got a f
an club over there. Can you come by my office later and we’ll talk?”

  “I’ll only have five minutes,” he replied.

  “Taking the boat out again?”

  “I need the daylight.”

  She nodded. “Five minutes is all we need. See you then.” She made her way to the center section and chatted with Julie Jacobson, who seemed glad to see her.

  “If they start throwing food at one another, I won’t know what to do.”

  Rachel sympathized. The young woman was on her first teaching assignment. Of course she felt intimidated. “If there’s any disruption, you tell a student to get another teacher, so you’re not alone.” Rachel pointed to Mr. Maggio and Jack. “You know there are at least three adults here at all times. If you’d like, I’ll help you out for the first couple of Mondays.”

  The new teacher seemed relieved. “Thanks. Thanks a lot. I know Jack could probably handle anything that came up, but he’s far away.”

  She’d have to nurse this one through to confidence, thought Rachel. Hopefully, the newbie had more to offer in the classroom. Her plan book was excellent.

  “Ms. Goodman, how about if Jack and I patrol together? I’d be a lot more comfortable.” Julie Jacobson gazed across the lunchroom at Jack with the same dreamlike expression the girl at the table had worn minutes before.

  Rachel couldn’t remember ever being that young. “Sorry, Ms. Jacobson. Each section needs to be monitored at the same time.”

  “I figured. But it doesn’t hurt to ask.” She turned to Jack’s section, spotted him and waved.

  He nodded.

  Rachel was glad she’d arranged to talk to him. She might need ten minutes of his time. But, in the end, she got no minutes at all. He sent her a note rescheduling for the next afternoon.

  Heavy rains predicted offshore. Have to get away and get back fast. Tomorrow instead? Jack

  She looked out the window of her office. The day was clear, the sun still shone. But she knew the fickle New England weather could turn in an instant. She crumpled the note and threw it away. And searched the skies again.