Just like Oliver steering clear of Selena the rest of the time he was in town was no longer his choice alone to make. He hugged his sister closer. He would do what was best for his family.
Marsha smiled at him, as if she’d read his mind.
“Whatever we have to face,” she promised, “everything’s going to be just fine, as long as we face it together.”
Chapter Nine
“Thanks for coming in again today,” Kristen Hemmings Beaumont said, bright and early the next morning. “We’ve really put you through your paces the last couple of months. Can you believe it’s almost summer?”
“It’s really heating up outside.” Selena smiled at the six-foot-plus former college basketball star.
Chandler Elementary’s much-loved principal was newly married, as of March, and still glowing from the whirlwind romance that had matched her with Chandler High’s soccer coach and in-demand local musician, Law Beaumont.
Kristen dabbed at her forehead with a Kleenex. “It’s steamy enough inside. I don’t know who’s more ready to be sprung from school—the kids or the faculty.”
Same as any other school day, Kristen was wearing a suit this morning—a jacket and skirt in a beautiful aquamarine color. Plus low-heeled pumps that screamed classic sophistication without adding to her height.
“Thank you for keeping me working all this time,” Selena said. “I know there are a lot of other moms on the sub list. It’s made a world of difference for Camille and me.”
Selena and her boss had never talked about it, and Kristen had never asked for details. No one in town had had the nerve to come out and pump Selena for information about her divorce. How when she’d come home at the end of March, it had been for only a few weeks’ visit.
“Math as flowers?” Kristen motioned to the project Selena had been prepping.
Selena smiled and kept working. She needed everything ready before her class arrived. She and Camille had had another late start—this morning because Selena had been up most of the night, obsessing about yesterday’s scene with Oliver and Brad. And the news about Joe’s overnight angioplasty. And now Oliver would be staying in town indefinitely, while his father recovered—which explained him and Marsha waving at Camille yesterday afternoon from the kitchen window, as if Oliver had settled in for a nice long visit.
Selena surveyed the colorful pile of cut construction paper on the desk and thought of her mother and daughter’s shared love for growing things.
“I seem to be working on a running theme.” She pasted together a second example of today’s exercise in simple fractions—left by the third-grade teacher she was subbing for.
Each child would create three different types of construction-paper flowers. Selena was then to divide the kids into teams of two, to take turns making gardens with one or more of each other’s flowers, and then talk with the class about how many halves, thirds, and fourths of each type of blossom were in their beds. The result would be a magnificent garden they’d staple to the bulletin board next to their storage cubbies.
“You know . . .” Kristen leaned a hip on the teacher’s desk at the front of the classroom. “If this ever turns into somewhere you’d like to stay, Chandler Elementary would be lucky to have you for more than part-time hours.”
“I . . .” Selena gaped at her boss.
Part of her plan for the funds she kept asking Parker to release had been to take college classes at night—to finally earn the degree she’d never gotten. To begin building toward a career that would enable her to take care of her daughter on her own. Becoming a teacher had definitely been at the top of her list of possible occupations to pursue. But even if Parker stopped dragging his feet, and she had enough money to start getting serious about school again . . .
“Working on staff at Chandler Elementary?” she asked Kristen.
“We just had a full-time sub position open up.”
“For next year? I . . . I hadn’t really considered that an option.”
Staying with Belinda. Living next door to the Dixons—with Oliver possibly popping in and out now, after Joe came home from the hospital. Committing to being in Chandlerville for an entire year, so Selena could be sure she had a job lined up. It should sound like a lifeline.
“You’re becoming our go-to mom,” Kristen said. “The teachers love your work with their kids. You keep the students happy and focused and on task. The most overactive of our students don’t seem to faze you, and neither do the shyer ones. You come early and stay late. I’ve even caught you tutoring a time or two after everyone else has gone home. Have you considered making teaching a career?”
Selena nodded. “Wherever we end up. But any kind of degree would be too expensive right now, and impossible to schedule around Camille’s day.”
“Not necessarily. Not if you stay here.”
Selena began cutting and pasting again, needing the soothing rhythm of the work to cover the panic. What Kristen was suggesting sounded amazing. What Selena would have to face with her daughter, her mother, the Dixons . . . with Oliver, if she were really to contemplate staying in town for good, was terrifying.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I appreciate the offer. But . . .”
“There’s an excellent community college just down the road. My husband’s there nights working on a joint music and education BA.”
“There’d be no money for classes,” Selena reminded herself, “even if I subbed full time next year. And I need to get my daughter settled in a home of our own first before I commit funds we don’t even have yet to something else.”
“That’s what scholarships and grants are for.”
Kristen reached into her skirt pocket and pulled out a slip of paper covered in the loops and curves of her stylish handwriting. She laid the list on the desk.
“Look into them. I’m happy to be a reference, and I know half a dozen teachers you’ve subbed for who would, too. I’m sure you have your reasons for moving on. No one’s trying to pry or even change your mind. But if you decide you’d like to give Chandlerville a chance, call me and we’ll set things in motion.”
“I . . .” The scissors clattered from Selena’s fingers.
“My cell number’s at the bottom.” Kristen took in Mimi Stone’s bright, colorful classroom and smiled. “I can see you in a room like this.”
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Travis stepped into the room, wearing civilian clothes and looking even more ragged than yesterday. “The front office said Selena was working today.”
“Of course not,” Kristen answered while Selena composed herself enough to deal with her second interruption that morning. “I’m sorry to hear Joe isn’t doing well.”
“Thanks,” Travis said. “Dad’s awake and out of recovery, back in CICU. More tests are happening today. More doctors. We’re hoping for better news than yesterday. Mom’s pretty much insisting on it.”
Kristen smiled fondly. “You let your parents know we’re keeping an eye on their kids here. We can send work home if it’s easier to keep them closer for a few days. Whatever the family needs.”
“We appreciate it. So far it’s business as usual at the house. My brother’s back—” Travis glanced at Selena. “We’re getting him up to speed on everyone’s schedules. I just stopped and signed Oliver up to be able to drop off and pick up the kids if he needs to.”
“Great,” Kristen said. “I better get. Bus call in fifteen,” she said to Selena. “Could you help take care of the car riders getting dropped out back at the cafeteria?”
“Um . . . sure.”
Kristen stopped next to Travis on her way out, just as tall as he was, delicately feminine in comparison. She patted his shoulder. “I hope your dad’s home soon, good as new. The whole school is rooting for him.”
The way she’d just said people were rooting for Selena and Camille to stay in Chandlerville while Selena competed for scholarships, worked full time, and took classes to become a teacher. While she made her own mon
ey no matter how long it took Parker to finalize their divorce.
And all Selena would have to do was face down the worst of the mistakes she’d made in her young life, come clean with the Dixons, and hope the fallout didn’t make things worse for her daughter.
“I’m sorry about Joe, too,” she said once it was just her and Travis.
“Yeah. It’s been a long night. But so far the doctors are saying encouraging things, whatever the hell that means. Until they tell us for sure they don’t have to crack Joe’s chest open, no one’s going to sleep easy.”
“I hope they clear him soon.”
Travis stared. Because of course he hadn’t searched her out just to talk about his dad.
“You’re wasting your time,” she told him, “if you’re here on another mission for Marsha.” Selena moved around the classroom, putting things away, bustling, not trusting herself to sit still and let Oliver’s brother look closely enough to see her own sleepless night. “And I have a lot of work to do.”
He dropped onto the edge of Mimi’s desk. “Will you just talk with me for a second?”
She circled back and sank into the teacher’s chair, resigned. “I don’t have much more than that. Once I help unload a couple hundred kids and herd them toward their classrooms, I’ll have twenty-five of my own, bright-eyed and expecting me to not to bore them senseless.”
“It’s about Oliver.”
Of course it was.
Travis stopped her from stacking the multicolored flower pieces. “It’s about giving him another chance.”
“I hope your family does.” Selena really did. “I’m sorry it took Joe getting sick, but I’m glad Oliver’s found his reason to come home.”
“He’s staying for at least the rest of the week.”
“That must mean a lot to your mom.” And it couldn’t mean anything to Selena.
Excitement shot through her, though, from the possibility of seeing him again on a daily basis, even if it was only from across their parents’ yards. Followed by the dread of knowing she wouldn’t be able to keep her distance any better than she had yesterday, the next time they stumbled across each other. And she had no idea how she was going to tell him what she needed to.
She stood and stepped around the desk, needing to move again, and tripped. The stack of math project instructions she’d intended to place on each desk flew out of her hands, sliding across the floor. Travis caught her before she took a header into one of the filled-to-brimming bookcases. He set her back on her feet and bent to gather up her materials, handing them over.
“Thanks,” Selena said. Get a grip, Selena! “Sorry.”
When she tried to edge away again, he caught her elbow. “Oliver’s a good man.”
“I know that.” She’d always known it, even when she’d broken up with him.
He’d been determined to make her life better, his way. On his timetable. A trait she’d run from, and then homed in on all over again with Parker.
“Then why not stay at the hospital yesterday and work things out with my brother?”
“I don’t know, Travis. Why do you think?”
“Brad . . . and other things.”
“Yeah. And other things. Oliver could barely look me in the eye.”
“I don’t think he’s holding a grudge. Brad either. Or Dru. We’d all like to put what’s happened behind us. Maybe that’s possible now. You talking to Oliver, the two of you getting everything out in the open. It might make it easier for my brother to stay a little longer. You know, for my parents’ sake.”
Selena pulled her arm away. “That’s hitting below the belt, using Marsha and Joe to manipulate me.”
“I said Oliver was a good man.” Travis grinned. “I’m a totally different story.”
“Has he really not spoken to anyone in your family in seven years?”
The town gossip mill was desperate for details. But the Dixons never talked about family.
“He’s kept up with me, once he got himself situated in business. The family doesn’t know, except my parents, but he’s been financing a lot of the extra stuff Marsha and Joe need for the kids, pretty much from the moment he made his first dollar. Money for additional tests and tutors for the kids that the state couldn’t justify. Extras for school and family activities. A whole lot more. Even Bethany’s tuition now. Joe makes good money, but—”
“A family as large as yours, it must be a constant financial drain on a single income.” And of course Oliver would have done whatever he could for his parents. His ratty sneakers and worn clothes made more sense, even if they didn’t jibe with the flashy truck he’d prowled into town driving.
“My brother’s sent every dime he’s made home, best I can tell, as long as he didn’t have to be in Chandlerville to put it to good use.”
Selena blinked. “And I’m the reason he left in the first place. If you want him not to disappear again, doesn’t nudging me in his direction seem a tad counterproductive?”
Travis scratched the side of his head. “I think he’s dealing with a lot of stuff. And if I don’t miss my guess, you both have secrets you think won’t hurt anyone else as long as they stay secret.”
The intensity of Travis’s gaze had Selena looking closer, then looking away.
“Give talking to Oliver another try,” he finally said.
“Sure.” Why hadn’t Selena thought of that? “I’ll just pop over later today and chat him up.”
Travis smiled at her sarcasm, then grew serious. “Find a way to clear the air. If my brother cuts and runs before the rest of us get to know him again, don’t let any of it be about you this time.”
She glanced down at the list Kristen had given her. What an amazing gesture. The opportunity of a lifetime. A fresh start that wouldn’t be possible if she could never completely let her guard down with anyone in town, not even her mother.
“You don’t understand,” she said. “Things are so much more complicated than you can possibly imag—”
“Mrs. Rosenthal?” asked a female voice laced with static, piping into the classroom over the intercom.
“Yes?”
“Your daughter’s in the infirmary. I think the nurse has already used Camille’s EpiPen.”
Selena rushed past Travis and out of the classroom, desperate to get to her child.
“Is everything okay?” he called after her.
“No.” Not since Camille was a baby.
“’Bout done with that plan?” another deputy asked Brad as Oliver approached Brad’s desk. “After you sell Willis on it, I want first dibs on some of the action.”
The working end of the Chandlerville Sheriff’s Department looked pretty much like it had the last time Oliver had been there. The night he’d been hauled in for DUI by an officer who’d known Joe for years. Oliver had been sober enough by that point, after the single-car wreck that had somehow managed to leave him with only a busted lip, to nearly wet his pants in fear when the guy had dumped him into a cell out back. Since no one else had been hurt, the officer had sprung Oliver the next morning, into Joe’s custody, without filing formal charges—saying if he ever saw Oliver in the precinct again, he’d throw the book at him.
The deputies’ work area was small. Utilitarian. Dated in an outgrowing-itself way that begged for someone to put it out of its misery. Five desks dominated a space barely big enough for four. A couple of them were two-sided, with chairs and computer monitors facing off across the two halves. Brad was working at a keyboard on a half desk covered in printouts and books and what looked like enough research to feed a college-level term paper. He had a spreadsheet open on his monitor.
“Oliver?” He set aside the notebook he’d been balancing in his lap while he typed. He stood and reached out his hand, making Oliver the asshole if he didn’t reciprocate. “It’s good to see you again. I wasn’t sure, after yesterday . . .” He glanced at the officer beside him. “After Joe’s procedure last night, I wasn’t sure when we’d get another chance to talk.”
Oliver shook Brad’s hand, marginally less inclined to deck the guy this morning.
“You remember Lee Bennett?” Brad asked.
The other officer offered his hand next. “Oliver Bowman?”
“Lee.” Oliver shook. Football. Cornerback. That explained the man’s size. “Sure. You were a year behind us at Chandler.”
The hulk of a man smiled good-naturedly. “Close enough to know exactly who you were when I saw a strange truck in the Dixons’ drive at the butt crack of dawn yesterday and ran the plates.”
Brad slanted Lee a quizzical look. “You’re casing the Dixon house?”
“Keeping an eye on the place. Sheriff’s orders.” Lee hooked his thumbs into the belt loops of his uniform pants. “Now that we know you’ve got someone there round the clock, we’ll leave off. Unless you two are still plannin’ to slug it out like some folks thought you might at the hospital. The guys are taking bets already. You know . . . who’ll be left standin’ when the dust settles.” Lee laughed. “My money’s on Travis and Marsha Dixon, after the two of them wade in to settle you down.”
“I think Oliver and I can handle things on our own.”
Lee glanced a not-so-subtle warning toward Oliver.
“We’ll keep the bloodshed to a minimum.” Oliver checked his watch.
Dru had Teddy at her place—she’d begged off at the Whip for the entire day, leaving an assistant manager in charge after spending the night at the hospital with Travis and Marsha, waiting for news on Joe’s angio. Then waiting for him to wake up from the anesthesia. She’d shown up at the house several hours ago, dragging ass but ready to show Oliver the basics of getting the kids off to school, so tomorrow he could take over on his own.
His sister needed a break this afternoon, not more trouble. And there Oliver was, about to pretty much make that impossible.
“I come in peace,” he assured Lee. “I need to speak to my future brother-in-law.”
Let Me Love You Again (An Echoes of the Heart Novel Book 2) Page 9