After he’d ever-so-slowly undressed me, and it was time for the main event, he said, “I have something to tell you.”
I wanted to say, “Not now, cowboy,” but his tone was too serious, the look in his eye too solemn.
“Do you know why I could never cheat on you?”
“No.”
“Because I love you, Toni Lee. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
As his words sunk in, the room grew too warm, the blood rushing through my ears too loud. I couldn’t speak; my throat was too dry. It wasn’t that I didn’t love him, I did. I loved him so much I could have Facebooked, Tweeted and Instagramed it. I wanted it tattooed on my bicep, spray-painted across the front of my pink house. I could have paraded down Main Street in a sandwich sign saying, “I love Carl.”
But while my “I love you” was genuine, his “I love you” was intended for a woman who only existed in his imagination. He didn’t love me; he loved the person I was pretending to be.
Carl was poised over me, his arms tensed. I had to say something. The guy was just hanging there, waiting.
Confess, I urged myself. Tell him every single one of your dirty little secrets: your arrangement with Lipton, the five million dollars. Everything. Spew it out.
But then I imagined him rolling off the bed and walking out of my life for good. The image terrified me worse than any horror movie I’d ever watched. I honestly didn’t know if I could survive another loss in my life. So instead, I swallowed hard, gazed into his eyes, and said the first thing that came to mind: “Give it to me, babe.”
Twenty-Four
The next morning we stood in my narrow galley kitchen, sipping coffee and acting overly polite to each other. That’s what happens when one person bares his soul, and the other person acts like a heartless sex fiend and says, “Give it to me.” I could tell he was wounded, and I ached for him.
“I don’t feel like going to school today,” Carl said.
“That’s not like you.”
“It’s Rose Wyld again. She just won’t let up.”
I was relieved he’d brought up a safe topic.
“Is she still nagging you about her grade?”
“Constantly. Yesterday she got nasty with me, cursing me out. I had to write her up.”
“I’m sorry.” Carl never wrote up students; he preferred to handle his own discipline issues.
“I hated to do it. Rose’s such a troubled young woman. Her mother used to prostitute herself for drugs, and her older sister took her in. She’s led a very sad life, and the Miss Harriet Hall pageant has been such an obsession with her. I think she expects it to fix something inside of her.”
I felt an unexpected twinge of recognition. Hadn’t I been that way with tennis tournaments, always thinking if only I could win the next tournament, I’d feel better about myself? My frequent victories never changed a thing within me, but I never stopped believing they would.
Of course, it was the same with the five million dollars. Didn’t I also think that having so much money would make up for the other deficits in my life? Like losing my ability to play competitive tennis, the lack of a close family, always feeling I wasn’t worthy of love. After all, if your own mother didn’t love you, who else would?
“Toni Lee,” Carl said.
“Sorry. Zoned out for a minute.”
“I was just asking you when you were going to talk to Lipton.”
Oh yes, the promise I’d made in a moment of weakness. There’d be no getting out of it.
“I’ll go see him this afternoon. After the Christmas assembly.”
I stood outside of Lipton’s office, trying to get up the nerve to speak. His door was open, and he was huddled over a stack of paperwork. I cleared my throat to alert him to my presence.
He glanced up, an impatient expression on his face. “What are you doing here? I thought I told you to stay home.”
“I just stopped by to talk with you…Got a minute?”
“For you I have more than a minute.”
When I closed the door he said, “You can leave it open.”
“I think this might be a closed-door kind of conversation.”
“You’ve got my attention. Have a seat.”
“I’ll stand, thank you.” I refused to sit in that tiny wing chair with the cut-off legs. Today was not the day to feel like a Lilliputian. I needed to channel my inner Gulliver.
Dr. Lipton, on the other hand, appeared to be channeling Tom Wolfe. He wore a white suit with a polka-dot tie and matching handkerchief poking out of his breast pocket. “What’s on your mind?”
“This morning I logged into the special education computer files to see if I could find information on Darnell, my attacker.”
It was a very sad story. Darnell had never had a real family; he’d been in seven different foster homes since he was a toddler.
“And?”
“Did you know he came straight from the Youth Detention Center? He served a year for another teacher assault. Sounds like a pastime of his.”
Dr. Lipton leaned back slightly in his chair, the leather creaking. “No need to worry about that thug. He’s been suspended.”
“And arrested? You told me you reported him to the police.”
“I did indeed. I assume they picked him up.”
“I guess they’ll get in touch with me to press charges.”
“Not necessarily. I gave them the incident report; that’s all they need.”
Dr. Lipton had obviously been counting on my ignorance of police procedure. Had I not talked to Carl, I would have assumed he was telling me the truth.
“Who’s the officer you spoke to? I’d like to call and see if they were able to find Darnell. I want to make sure he doesn’t assault any more teachers.”
He smiled. “Why don’t you let me handle all of that?”
I threw my shoulders back, readying myself for the upcoming confrontation. “You didn’t report it, did you?”
“Now where did you get a crazy idea like that?”
“If you’d just give me the name of the officer—”
“I said I’d handle it,” he said, his chest expanding. “Where’s your trust? I can’t have teachers on my team who don’t trust their leaders. Understand?”
“I am a team player,” I said hotly. “Don’t forget I’m going to be helping you with mid-year testing. That’s a really big deal. I could get in all kinds of trouble if I got caught.”
He paused for a moment. Then, in a low, deep voice he said, “There are others who could assist. You’re not the only one.”
“I’m not trying to be difficult. I’m worried Darnell will come back and hurt me again. You’d think you’d want your teachers to be safe, especially after what happened last year. I don’t understand why you’re letting all these other assaults happen and—”
“What other assaults?”
Damn. I’d said more than I intended. Quickly I tried to recover. “I meant my assault…Someone should have informed me about Darnell’s history.”
The hard set of Lipton’s jaw told me it was too late. “Who have you been talking to?”
“No one.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Why would I lie?”
His fingers tapped out a rapid rhythm on the varnished surface of the desk. “I’ve had enemies in every one of my schools. I also happen to know that right here at Harriet Hall, there are vengeful teachers who are jealous of my professional accomplishments and whose primary aim is to bring me down and spread lies. I always find out who they are and deal with them accordingly. So why don’t you save me the trouble and tell me who you’ve been talking to?”
I put on my best poker face. “No one.”
He studied m
e for a moment with his unwavering gaze. How had I ever found him to be charismatic? Now he just seemed like a hoodlum.
“It’s that boyfriend of yours, isn’t it? Rutherford.”
Panic, cold and sharp, shot up my spine. I ordered myself not to flinch or blink.
“Carl and I rarely talk shop.”
Silence. Lipton’s stare was a probe, searching for the slightest opening.
“All the same. It’s not a good idea for you to fraternize with him anymore. End it.”
“What?” I said, stunned. “Now you’re telling me who to date?”
“I believe your relationship with Mr. Rutherford is interfering with your job performance, therefore it’s reasonable for me to ask you to stop seeing him. It’ll also renew my trust in you.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Failure to comply with a supervisor’s instructions is always grounds for dismissal. Especially for an untenured teacher.”
I took a couple of short, fast breaths, feeling like a bear hopelessly caught in a steel trap. When would it ever stop?
“Quit looking at me like I’m the big bad wolf,” Dr. Lipton said. “I’ll let you in on a secret. Dr. Scott’s wife is ill, and he wants to retire sometime after mid-year testing. If all goes as planned, the Board will appoint me as the new superintendent. Then you can date the Pope for all I care. In return, I’ll make sure you keep your job and even transfer you to a much cushier school…Sound like a fair exchange?”
I wanted to tell him he’d gone too far, that I would never give up Carl, not even for a month, just to keep my job. Then I wanted to leave his office, phone the police, and report Darnell. Afterward I’d pay a visit to the superintendent and tell him about all the insanity going on at Harriet Hall.
I didn’t do any of those things. I was too scared to lose my inheritance for good and to have to make it on my own for the rest of my life. I thought about Daddy. He couldn’t do it, and I wasn’t sure if I could either. Yes, I’d come far in the last few months, but obviously not far enough. There was a big part of me that was weak and pathetic and I knew it.
“I’ll have to think about it.”
“How long?’
“I don’t know. I’m upset right now.”
“You have until tomorrow to make your decision.”
“Fine.” I stood.
“Ms. Wells, you might not believe this, but everything I do springs from my love of this school. When Harriet Hall gets bad press, people think, ‘No wonder. It’s that black project school.’ Until I took over as principal, there was talk of closing it down or restructuring it. I was the one who stopped that from happening, who changed things, who brought pride back to the institution. A couple of negative newspaper articles and all my hard work goes up in smoke. Can’t you understand that?”
I did, but I also knew that pride was worthless when you cheated to obtain it. Just as worthless as my Rookie Teacher of the Year nomination.
“Is that all?”
“Yes. And I trust that you will make the right decision. Remember. It’s only for a month.”
Twenty-Five
I fled to the ladies’ room, dropped to my knees on the cold ceramic tiles, and threw up my lunch into the toilet. What had happened in the last few minutes had sickened me more than any alcohol. I was every bit as immoral as Dr. Lipton. What kind of person was I to meekly agree to ignore Darnell’s assault and to consider dumping my boyfriend?
Before going home, I stopped by my classroom. It was planning period and the substitute, a middle-aged black man with a gray Van dyke beard, said he was relieved to see me. Apparently a rumor was flying around campus that I was seriously injured or even dead. My students had been wringing their hands all day long, and according to him, even Monica had shed a few tears. Lipton must not have kept his promise to send someone from guidance to speak to my class.
I stayed until the next period started so I could reassure my kids, and give them each a Christmas gift bag I’d put together earlier and stored in the closet. First to arrive in class was Monica, who stopped short when she saw me.
“You alive?” she asked, thick eyebrows jumping. She was dry-eyed now but her eyes were still puffy from her earlier tears. I was moved but tried not to show it.
“Care to take my pulse?” I offered her my wrist.
“Nah.” She gave me one of the quickest hugs on record. “I’ll take your word for it, cracka.”
Most of my students were more demonstrative than Monica, throwing their arms around me or patting my shoulder, as if proving to themselves that Ms. Wells was really there and not lying stiff and waxy in some morgue. I was also presented with a homemade card—a crude drawing of me with big Texas hair and long pin-like legs with the caption “World’s Best Teacher.” The incident with Darnell seemed to have changed the classroom dynamics for the better.
“You looking forward to Christmas vacation?” I said to Vernon as I gave him his goody bag.
Vernon shrugged his broad shoulders.
“You don’t seem excited,” I said.
“Too cold where I stay. Meemaw can’t afford to keep the heat going all the time. And sometimes I don’t get no lunch.”
Carl once told me many Hall students dreaded school holidays because they missed the amenities the school provided, like free meals, a climate-controlled building, and a structured schedule. So many kids had chaotic home lives that, in comparison, their hours spent at the high school seemed like the Ritz.
“Sorry, Vernon,” I said, feeling helpless. “Maybe there’s some kind of meal or recreational programs going on over the holidays. I’ll look into it and let you know.”
Unfortunately there was only so much a teacher could do to help her students. You couldn’t begin to fix everything in their lives no matter how much you wished you could. But I would do my best.
On the way home from school, an idea occurred to me, one that might soften the blow when I made my confessions to Carl. As soon as I pulled up to my house, I texted him and asked him to come over after school. There was something important I had to discuss with him.
While I waited, I went inside and rehearsed what I was going to say. He arrived an hour or so later.
“You okay? You seem kind of—”
“Can we sit for a minute?” He looked a little green-faced, as if he’d eaten bad shellfish.
Maybe he was still upset about last night, and my failure to return his “I love you.” Maybe further worries about Rose were plaguing him.
I took a seat on the couch in my living room and patted the cushion beside me. Carl ignored the invitation and remained standing, towering over me. It took him a few seconds to speak.
“Ed, the truant officer, dropped by my room after school. We were discussing Janey’s case, and he told me something very upsetting.”
I flinched, knowing what was next. The incident with Janey was coming back to nip at my heels.
“He said he never received a notice about her absences from you,” Carl continued. “In fact, the paperwork came from Janey’s P.E. teacher. He also tells me he’s never gotten a single excessive absence notice from you, which is highly unusual. What gives?”
My insides quivered; the betrayed look in his eye made me want to leap out the window.
“Well?” he said.
I twisted my hands in my lap. “I have something to tell you. That’s why I called you over today. Please listen with an open mind.”
My confession came out in a great rush of words. I told him everything: my bargain with Aunt Cornelia and the five million dollars, the dishonorable things I’d done and was planning to do for Dr. Lipton to keep my job, and why I couldn’t report Darnell to the police.
I kept expecting him to interrupt me and tell me what he thought about me, but no insults were forthcoming. Carl’
s expression was unreadable.
Then I told him the part that might buy me some redemption. After talking to Vernon, I came up with a great idea. Didn’t know why I hadn’t considered it before, but it made so much sense.
“I’ve made an important decision today. I’m going to earmark half of my inheritance to help Harriet Hall students.”
After a few seconds of silence, I got a response: “That’s generous of you.”
Carl’s words were complimentary but his tone was cold.
“Maybe you’ll give me some ideas about the best way to spend 2.5 million dollars.”
I said the amount out loud for a reason. I wanted Carl to think about how much money it was, and all the good work that could be done with it. Maybe, just maybe, it could negate some of my dishonorable deeds.
“I’m sorry.” His voice was so soft I had to strain to hear him. “But it isn’t enough.”
“What do you mean?”
Carl threw up his hands. “There isn’t enough money in this world to make up for what you’re doing. You saw what happened to Janey because of your laxness. What if her P.E. teacher hadn’t reported her? She’d still be at her sister’s house. Maybe she’d even be hooked on meth by now.”
“No,” I said, refusing to consider that possibility. “I would have eventually checked on her.”
“It might have been too late. But that’s only the beginning. You’re also trading other teachers’ safety for five million dollars. What if Darnell enrolls in another school and assaults someone else? Maybe this time he’ll put a teacher in the hospital or even kill one. Would that be worth five million dollars to you?”
“Of course not, but—”
“But what?”
Girl Meets Class Page 19