Water Goddess

by Crystal Inman

  “I’ll walk you down to Miss Ethel, and she’ll fix you right up. Okay? Then we’ll call your parents so they know what happened.”

  “Okay.” Mary’s lip quivered again.

  “Is there anything I can do?” The soft voice startled Erin, and she spun quickly to see who was behind her.

  A slender blonde with bright blue eyes studied her.

  “Who are you?” Erin tucked Mary behind her and looked at the stranger.

  “My name is Kendra.” She smiled. “I’ve applied for the assistant teaching position. Ethel assured me I could look around a bit.”

  Mary moved from behind Erin and looked at the two women. “Are you sisters?”

  “No, hon.” Erin smiled down at her. “I don’t have any sisters. But Miss Kendra is thinking about helping out in my room. So we might see more of her. Okay?”

  The child nodded.

  “Now let’s get you down to the office.”

  Erin tucked Mary close and stroked her hair on the trip down to the office. Thankfully the cut wasn’t deep enough for stitches. Those hurt like hell. And no child should have to have them. She explained to Ethel what happened and left Mary with her.

  When she turned around, she met Kendra’s eyes and motioned to the hallway. “Would you like to see the room you may be working in?”

  “Love to.”

  Erin nodded and led Kendra down the long hallway to the last room on the right. “Home sweet home.” She opened the door and motioned the visitor inside.

  The alphabet trailed across the top of the blackboard in bright letters with animals hiding between the spaces. A map of the United States was on the left of the blackboard with colorful pushpins highlighting certain locations. The window next to it housed three beautiful flowers that seemed to strain toward the sunlight.

  The far wall accommodated a bookshelf overflowing with picture books and easy readers. A plant on top of it trailed down a pale green vine that curled ever-so-gently on the second shelf. Three small bean bags in various colors curled around the carpet in front of the books. Several small words in bright blue, green, and yellow clung to the wall.

  Erin’s desk sat by the other window on the same wall with a collection of markers, pencils, and crayons. An apple-shaped hall pass lay on the corner. Behind her desk on the other wall were cubbies with children’s prized possessions overflowing the small squares.

  The last wall was a series of cabinets decorated with ribbons and bright pictures that captivated Kendra’s attention immediately. There were fairy tale characters and clouds that seemed to drift down and float effortlessly against the wood.

  Erin watched Kendra walk over and trace the pictures with one finger. “I like these.”

  “So do the children.” Erin joined her and pointed to a princess and a frog at the top. All the green in the princess’ dress and the frog was bright glitter. “They can’t seem to get enough of the fairy tales. So we’re exploring those first this year. I’m trying to find some books that have simple words but captivating pictures.”

  Kendra nodded. “Ethel told me there is an extra large class this year.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “Not at all.” Kendra smiled. “I’m used to large groups of children.”

  “Good.” Erin glanced at the clock. “It’s nice to meet you, but I have to prepare the next lesson for the children. They’ll be back in about twenty minutes.”

  “Pleased to meet you.” Kendra extended her hand, and Erin took it with hesitation and shook.

  “You can see yourself out, can’t you?”

  “Yes.” Kendra walked back through the door and down the hall.

  Erin sighed and rubbed her temple. Well, at least the assistant didn’t seem like a pain in the ass. It was a complication she didn’t need. Regardless, she would adhere to Principal Barfield’s decision. The woman had a knack for hiring the best suited people. It’s why the staff of the school was more like a family.

  And speaking of family ties, she wondered how Saturday night ended. And if any of her single friends ended up with a nice gyrating man in her bed. Erin grinned. As long as Tara didn’t, Erin didn’t really care.

  The night brought back memories of the bar owner and his bouncer. Erin had gone directly to her freezer and brought out the butter pecan ice cream pint when she arrived home. She hadn’t been that shaken in quite some time, and she didn’t like it. No one had put their hands on her in years, and it was an unpleasant feeling.

  Erin rubbed her shoulders through her thin blue blouse and smoothed down her matching pencil skirt. She pushed the thoughts of that night to the back of her mind and opened her planner. The children would be bouncing off the walls when they came back from music, and she needed to have their attention immediately. Perhaps a story or two to calm them down and refocus them. She smiled and smoothed her blonde hair back into the tight bun at the nape of her neck.

  * * * *

  The morning flew by, and Erin didn’t have a chance to catch up with her co-workers until lunchtime. They all sat at one of the tables in the cafeteria. All in their thirties and all had similar tastes and preferences. Close enough to handle any problems but far enough away to have some adult conversation.

  Tara and Mary already sat there, deep in discussion. Erin took a tray and walked over to the women and sat down.

  “There she is.” Tara smiled at her. “We wondered if you were bound and gagged in your room.”

  “No.” Erin grinned. “How did Saturday night go?”

  “Great!” Mary beamed. She patted her chestnut hair pulled back in a ponytail. “I have a date Friday night with one of the dancers.”

  Tara laughed. “Three of them asked her. But she only accepted one invitation.”

  “The other two didn’t want a date.” Mary wriggled her eyebrows.

  Erin laughed and rolled her eyes. “TMI, woman. Seriously.”

  “And where did you skip out to?” Tara eyed Erin curiously. “We looked up around eleven, and you were nowhere to be seen.”

  Erin shook her head. “I said my goodbyes. You probably just don’t remember.” She took a sip of her milk and waved her hand. “A bit of a headache, so I skipped out a little early.”

  “A little?” Mary frowned. “Honey. You weren’t even there an hour.”

  Tara studied her with concerned brown eyes. “Just not your cup of tea, is it?”

  “Not really.” Erin smiled gratefully and took a bite of the chicken the cafeteria prepared. Then she looked around and noted the groups of children. Everyone seemed to be doing well.

  “You can’t live just for the job, hon.” Mary motioned to the children. “They’re precious. And they’re wonderful. But they don’t take the place of a partner in your life.”

  Tara opened her mouth, but Erin shook her head. “It’s fine, Tara. And I don’t think Mary would be Mary if she didn’t try to matchmake.” Her blue eyes met Mary’s, and she smiled. “I don’t want a partner. I’m content to be single. And working. And not worrying about someone else the entire time. I’ll leave all the men for you since Ms. Tara here is going to be a Mrs. Soon.”

  “It doesn’t seem right,” Mary muttered. “Look at you. Beautiful, blonde, thin, and smart as hell. Are you a lesbian?”

  Erin threw back her head and laughed until tears streamed from her eyes. Tara simply shook her head and tried not to snicker. “No. I’m not. Though that would probably just mean you were shoving women in my path and not men.”

  Mary shrugged. “Got to have a hobby. And I’ve already set up Tara.”

  “And very well, I might add.”

  The words seemed to mollify the fifth grade teacher. “Okay. I’ll let it go for now. But don’t think you’re totally off the hook. I have plans for you.”

  “Perish the thought,” Erin mumbled, and Tara laughed.

  The women talked and laughed for the next half an hour while a substitute handled the playground duties. Erin dumped her tray and bid her friends goodbye unti
l after school. She passed the office when she heard Ethel call out her name. Erin turned quickly and walked through the doorway.

  “Yes, Ethel?”

  The secretary grinned broadly and motioned to a massive bouquet of red and white roses that now adorned the counter in front of her. “These are for you, dear.”

  “What?” All color drained from Erin’s face as she regarded the large mass of blooms in front of her. “I think there’s been a mistake.”

  “No mistake.” Ethel stood and walked around to the side where Erin was frozen. “The delivery guy only dropped them off a minute ago and specifically said these were for you. Aren’t they just gorgeous?”

  “Gorgeous,” Erin repeated through numb lips. She eyed them as if they were a nest of rattlesnakes.

  “Well. Aren’t you going to take them to your room?”

  The question shook her out of her reverie, and she started. “No. I think it would be a distraction for the children. Is it okay if I tuck them in a cabinet or something to pick up after school?”

  “Tuck them in a cabinet?” Ethel’s mouth opened in horror. Then she shook her head. “They can stay on my desk. Aren’t they just to die for?”

  “Uh huh.” Erin tried to smile and quickly plucked the card from its place among the stems. “I’ll see you later.” She fled the office without a backward glance.

  No one had ever given her flowers. And there was no one in her life right now that would. Dread crept along her spine, and she tried to steady her hands. Erin opened the envelope and read the few lines scrawled across the white space.

  Sorry for the misunderstanding

  Dinner invitation still stands

  Daniel Rodriguez

  Erin frowned and racked her brain. The name was certainly familiar. And then it all rushed back to her. The olive complexion and hazel eyes. The beautiful teeth and wide smile. The bar owner.

  She grimaced and shoved the paper back into the envelope. Obviously loose lips had given out her name and employer. Damn alcohol, anyway. It’s probably something the bar owner counted on to get information such as he did.

  Well then. She would simply return his damn flowers and let him know that she wasn’t interested. In no uncertain terms.

  Chapter 2

  Erin took her chances and stopped by the bar after work. She wanted to catch the bar owner before the crowd came. She parked her blue compact on the side of the building next to a green truck and walked around to the front. The flowers had already been dispersed among her students. She gave a bloom to each with directions to take it home and give it to a parent or grandparent. They were delighted.

  She pushed open the front door and walked inside. Erin looked around and noted it was neat and tidy. And there was nary a hint of a G-string. She glanced to see if any of the staff was there. No bartender. No wait staff. She frowned and looked upstairs toward the office. A light shone brightly through the window.

  “Hell,” she muttered. Right back into the lion’s den. Erin squared her shoulders and walked up the flight of stairs to the office. She rapped her knuckles on the door firmly and waited.

  “Come in.”

  Erin turned the doorknob and walked inside. The office was plush. A fact utterly lost to her on the last visit. A large oak desk sat directly across from the front door. Several watercolor paintings hung on the wall to her right. The carpet was a thick brown shag that seemed to engulf her feet. She shut the door behind her and waited for the man behind the large oak desk to look up. He muttered under his breath for a couple of more minutes, and Erin took the time to study him.

  The bar owner was extremely attractive. It was a fact that both irritated and fascinated her. Olive complexion with high cheekbones. Thick, dark hair that seemed to have a mind of its own. It brushed the top of his shoulders and curled slightly at the ends. He wore a navy suit tailored to fit. It cut across the breadth of his shoulders and tapered downwards.

  “Can I have a minute, please?”

  His head jerked up, and he pinned her with hazel eyes. A second later he was on his feet. “I’m so sorry. I thought you were staff. And I have numbers I have to go over before every opening. Please. Sit. Sit.” He motioned to a dark green loveseat behind her.

  “Thank you.” Erin sat and watched him take a seat on the edge of his desk.

  “Did you receive the flowers?”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “That’s why I’m here.”

  “Splendid.” Daniel pulled his planner from his desk and held it in front of him. “I will arrange my schedule for whichever day is best for you.”

  Erin frowned and blinked. “I’m not here to make a date, Mr. Rodriguez. I’m here to inform you that I don’t want your flowers. But I do appreciate the gesture.”

  He studied her for a second and placed the planner back on the desk quietly. “You will not go out with me?” He spoke the words quietly. Gently.

  “I have no interest in dating right now. Thank you.” Erin stiffened her spine.

  “So it’s not just me?”

  She sighed and waved her hand. “Don’t be silly. And file your male pride away. I don’t want to date. Period. Nor do I wish to receive flowers from you.” Erin stood and nodded her head. “Thank you for your time.”

  “Please. Call me Daniel.” He held out his hand, as if beseeching her. “You have a spark, Ms. Sanders.” He rubbed his nose. “And a mean right hook. Is there anything I can say to change your mind?”

  Erin stepped back out of reach. “There will be more sparks, Mr. Rodriguez. But they won’t be from me.” Erin turned toward the door and looked over her shoulder. “Good day.”

  She jogged down the stairs and out the front door. Erin gulped air as if she were drowning. The bar owner was intense. Those eyes. She shivered. Something about him that she couldn’t think about further. She refused. It was done. And she could go on with her life.

  * * * *

  Erin woke up at six o’clock the next morning with a small headache behind her right eye. She grimaced and popped two Ibuprofen with her morning diet soda. She ate two pieces of toast and an egg. Then she quickly showered and pulled on a sleeveless pink sweater and matching slacks. She wound her blonde hair up tight and clipped a pale pink barrette in it to keep it from straying. Minimum makeup and comfortable white flats.

  It was only Tuesday. That meant the kids would have an extra hour reading. And they would have ants in their pants. Tuesday and Thursday seemed interminable. Erin grabbed a liter of her diet soda and one of water. She would eat lunch in the cafeteria.

  On her way out the door, she almost tripped over the stack of coloring books on her porch. Erin frowned and picked one up. They were bundled in groups of six. And there were five bundles. She scooped them up and carried them in two loads to her car. Maybe a helpful parent dropped them off. Odd.

  Erin drove to the school while listening to Mozart. The strains of the orchestra soothed her. Calmed her. Steadied her for the day ahead. She glanced out the window and saw the storm clouds rolling in. That meant her lovely children would more than likely be with her after lunch instead of frolicking on the playground.

  The first fat raindrop hit her on the second trip from her car to her classroom. The second and third closely followed it. By the time she hit the school doors a second time, the rain fell in earnest. Erin shook herself a bit and walked into her classroom. One of many reasons she arrived early. She had at least half an hour before most of the teachers showed up and around forty-five minutes to prepare for the students.

  A bolt of lightning lit up the sky, and Erin leaned further toward the window and waited for the thunder. She wasn’t disappointed. A couple of seconds later, thunder rumbled across the sky and vibrated the windows of the school. She rested her forehead against the cool windowpane and took a deep breath.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  The words, spoken softly, still startled Erin. She turned with a frown and saw the woman from yesterday standing there. She wore a simple light blue
dress with a white crocheted shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Her blonde hair pulled back into a slick chignon. Erin nodded. “It is.”

  “I’m Kendra.” The woman moved forward and extended her hand. “Principal Barfield called me last night.”

  “I remember.” Erin shook her hand lightly and then dropped hers. “We’re going to have our hands full today.” She motioned to the rain-streaked windows. “Thirty young people with no outlet makes for a long day.”

  Her new assistant opened the window and cupped her palm to hold the water coming from the sky. She looked at Erin. “It’s beautiful.”

  Erin nodded. “I’ve always loved storms. They calm me.” She turned abruptly toward her desk. No need to reminisce about her past. That’s exactly where it belonged. Every mistake. Every nightmare. She pulled herself together with an effort. She grabbed a coloring book and turned to give it to Kendra.

  “These were dropped off at my house. Wonderful rainy day activity.”

  “It’s the alphabet.” Kendra thumbed through the pages. “Clever. And the kids should love it.”

  Erin looked up at her. “Do you always show up so early?”

  “The better to begin my day.” Kendra smiled. “And I enjoy the rain.”

  They worked companionably to discuss which letters they would cover that day and for the rest of the week. Twenty minutes later, Miss Ethel showed up in the doorway with a medium dark blue satchel.

  “Have a delivery, ladies.” She walked in and unzipped the bag to show the women the contents.

  Colored pencils, crayons, and markers filled every inch of the bag. Erin grinned. “Has Santa arrived early this year?”

  “Not that I’m aware of, hon.” Ethel smiled. “These were waiting at my desk this morning with your name on them.”

  “I think we have an anonymous donor. A parent, probably.” Erin looked at the supplies. “I’ll send out a thank you note this afternoon.”

  “Thoughtful.” Kendra smiled and picked up a large box of crayons. “The kids will love these.” She looked at Erin. “This happen often?”