Rebecca sucked honey garlic sauce from her thumb. “Which one of us is your Muffykins?” she asked. “And keep in mind, one of us can bench press her own body weight.”
The other women laughed along with Hannah. “No one would dare compete with you,” Hannah assured her. “Speaking of hyper-competitive people, how’s the other PE teacher in your life?”
Addie, Gwen, and Amy leaned forward, eager for the scoop.
“Still insanely attractive. And, and . . . nice,” she practically spat out the word.
Amy speared a nacho chip into the dip she’d gathered on her plate. “Why are you pissed that he’s nice? Should be a refreshing change from my asinine brother.”
Rebecca shrugged. “Because attractive guys aren’t supposed to be nice.”
“My guy doesn’t have anything to worry about there,” Hannah muttered.
Gwen topped up glasses with margarita mix, effortlessly transferring her business instincts into hostessing like a boss. At this rate, Rebecca would need to be carried home. “Oh, so now Kent is your guy?”
Hannah nearly choked on the cracker in her mouth. “No, I mean . . .he’s a guy.” She coughed. “A jerky, annoying guy who’s maybe been slightly less annoying as of late, but still overall annoying with his dog leash posters and sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong. And he has a kid! I’m not mother material!”
“Whoa, that took a leap,” Amy said.
“And ironic coming from the woman who has six hundred pictures of Muffy on her phone,” Rebecca added.
Gwen laughed. “I’m surprised you didn’t bring her with you tonight.”
“She’s with a sitter and has all her favorite toys,” Hannah assured them. It took her all of three seconds to pick up on the irony in her statement. “Okay, so a kid isn’t a deal breaker, I guess. She’s actually kind of fabulous. I met her earlier this week when the first graders visited my shop on their field trip. She’s six. Missing her two front teeth . . . But I just hate the idea of being tied down, ya know? Metaphorically speaking.”
“Why not have some good old-fashioned no-strings angry sex with him?” All heads turned sharply toward Addie, and her porcelain skin became a rosy pink.
“I thought you said she was the sweet one,” Amy said to Gwen, nudging Addie playfully.
Gwen grinned. “She used to be. Maybe Ethan pulled her over to the dark side. Then again, she’s probably been hanging around Barker for too long.”
Hannah ignored the jab, her chin bobbing up and down as she contemplated Addie’s suggestion. Rebecca could just about hear the wheels turning in her bestie’s head. Hannah had been so busy lately planning her Dogspeed event that she’d neglected her libido, and the woman couldn’t go a month without sex before cracking.
Rebecca preferred to observe rather than partake in the majority of the chatter. She learned far more about the women in the room by studying their mannerisms. Amy hadn’t let go of her drink since sitting down. Addie furtively checked her phone every few minutes, the giddy smile on her face making it clear who was on the receiving end of the texts she sent. She couldn’t claim to know Gwen all that well, but she might have been the only one who’d noticed when, instead of filling her own glass with margarita mix, she’d poured herself a sparkling water.
Gwen stood and brought the spinach and nacho dips to the coffee table for easier access. “Have you seen Matt since you’ve been in town, Amy?”
She rolled her eyes and sighed. “I bumped into him as he was coming out of the Cup-A-Cabana earlier this week. He growled something about it being nice of me to inform him that I’d be in town. Like, how dare I not alert Mr. Grumpypants I’d be coming home to visit my parents for my mother’s seventieth birthday party, after he so kindly bade me farewell at my going-away party last winter.” Amy slurped down a gulp of her margarita. “I may need to crash here tonight, by the way. I’m not sure I can stand.”
Gwen chuckled. “The guestroom is available for anyone who’d like to stay. And I’m sorry, hon. That sucks about Matt.”
“I just . . . miss how things were before, ya know?”
Rebecca heard the wistfulness in Amy’s voice and hoped that Matt would get his act together and make things right before it was too late. She’d spent two Christmases with the Campbell family in Newtonville while she and Derek were together, and she, along with everyone else in the town, had been rivetted by the Matt and Amy “will they/won’t they?” romance.
Addie snorted out loud at the latest text. “Sorry,” she said when all eyes focused on her again. “Ethan told me he’s having a boys’ night in with his newest roommate and the cat. They’re eating lasagna, and he made a Garfield joke.”
Hannah perked up at the possibility of fresh meat. “Ooh, who’s this new roommate? Another young, hot-blooded male, I’d assume, given Carmen’s track record.”
“Hang on, I’ll get the deets,” Addie said, texting back. Her phone buzzed shortly after with an incoming text. “He says his name is Will.”
Hannah and Rebecca immediately turned to each other. “Will?” they both blurted at the same time. It couldn’t be her Will, could it? Wait. Her Will?
“Yeah,” Addie confirmed. “Ethan says he’s a teacher.”
Rebecca set her plate down on the end table, her appetite suddenly gone and replaced by a swarm of butterflies in her stomach. What was he doing in town? Didn’t he live in the city? She thought that’s where his college was. How long had he been living with Carmen and Ethan, and why hadn’t he said anything?
Gwen darted her gaze between Rebecca and Hannah. “Is this the PE teacher you were referring to earlier?”
“Sounds like it,” Rebecca said.
Addie glanced at her phone. “Should I ask any more questions?”
“No!” Hannah cried. “We don’t want him thinking we’re talking about him.” Shifting her attention back to Rebecca, she said, “Now, you start talking about him, and leave out nothing!”
Rebecca couldn’t help the laugh that slipped free. She started at the beginning, filling in the gaps for those who hadn’t been privy to any previous information. “He’s a student teacher on his practicum at Kendal High—a mature student, I should say. I’m sort of indirectly mentoring him, and, you know, trying to keep things professional, as I should, but we keep having these moments. Like yesterday, after work, he challenged me to a game of H-O-R-S-E, but for every missed shot, instead of getting a letter, we had to answer a personal question. At one point, he asked me if I had kids, and then he showed me a picture of his favorite kicks, and we compared sneaker shots as if they were baby pics . . .” She paused at the perplexed faces staring back at her. “It sounds super weird when I say it out loud.”
“Jock flirting 101,” Amy chimed in.
Hannah pressed her hands to her heart. “Oh. My. God. You guys had a feet-cute! Like a meet-cute, but with your shoes!”
“Huh?” Rebecca said.
Hannah waved her off. “Never mind. Carry on.”
“I’ve been trying to avoid him because I’m feeling really mixed up, but we keep getting pushed together somehow.” Rebecca took a long pull of her drink.
“How long is his practicum?” Addie asked, her buzzing phone long forgotten.
She calculated in her head. “There are about five weeks left, I think.”
“So keep your paws off of him for five weeks, then stake your claim,” Addie reasoned.
“Stake it now!” Hannah’s booming voice commanded. “Don’t let him go off chasing any town tramps.”
Gwen snorted. “Hannah included.”
Rebecca blinked rapidly, struggling to keep up with the flurry of opinions flying at her. “You’re all forgetting something. I don’t date teachers.”
“You can thank my brother for that,” Amy groused.
“Well, he’s not an official teacher yet, so . . . overruled!”
Rebecca glowered at Hannah. She wasn’t making this any easier. “He’s twenty-nine.”
All fo
ur women laughed at that argument.
Hannah stood and knelt down next to Rebecca’s chair, taking hold of her free hand. “Babe, he’s young, virile, and clearly has the hots for you because why wouldn’t he? Honestly, have you looked in a mirror lately? You are flipping gorgeous without even a speck of makeup on! I would totally hate you if we weren’t friends.”
“Gee, thanks,” Rebecca muttered.
Hannah squeezed her hand. “You have to give him something, Becks. Even if you want to wait till his practicum ends, give him a reason to wait for you. Give him a reason to stay.”
How exactly was she supposed to do that? If she revealed too much, he’d take that as an invitation to make his move, and if he started things, physical things, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stop them. And when his practicum ended, he’d leave. There was no way a rich, city man like him would ever stay in a town like this. “I think I’m gonna need more booze.”
Hannah yanked the glass out of Rebecca’s hand and waved it in the air. “Fill the woman’s cup! There’s some serious secret-spilling magic in this margarita mix,” she said to Gwen.
Gwen beamed as she refilled Rebecca’s glass. “Shawn’s recipe. He knows all my secrets, and he still loves me. Go figure.”
“How is the man of the house, by the way?” Amy asked her.
Their hostess’s smile faltered. “He still hasn’t popped the question.”
“He will,” Addie said.
“He better,” Gwen retorted, placing the pitcher back on the table. She took a deep breath and clasped her hands around her stomach. “I’m three months pregnant.”
Surprised and delighted gasps echoed around the room. Everyone lunged from their seats and wrapped a weeping Gwen in a hug.
14
Will arrived on Wednesday to an empty Phys. Ed. office. Rebecca was likely working out. He was beginning to learn her routine. He hadn’t figured out Pete’s yet, though. Some days he’d show up early; others he’d slip in ten minutes before the bell rang. But he always made time to check in with Will, make sure he had everything he needed for the day ahead, and reflect on the previous day’s lessons.
He sincerely hoped Rebecca hadn’t divulged what happened on Friday to Pete. Or anyone, for that matter. He doubted she would. The students had had the weekend and two school days to forget about it. If they didn’t bring it up, he wouldn’t.
Dropping his bag on his desk, he shoved his lunch in the fridge—leftover lasagna, thanks to Carmen—and headed off to the gym in search of Pete to discuss his afternoon lessons.
He spotted the big man right away, on his knees next to the equipment room, tearing open boxes. “What’s in the bo—” He cut himself off mid-sentence as he drew near enough to see the answer to his own question. New basketballs, footballs, and soccer balls.
“Hey, buddy!” Pete said. “C’mon over and lend a hand. It’s Christmas in October.”
Will had almost forgotten about the deal he’d made with his father. Edward had clearly held up his end of the bargain. Now Will would be expected to do the same. He tried to take heart in the fact that the greater good was in giving to a school in need. Every reward required a sacrifice.
Crouching down next to Pete, he started ripping into boxes, the scent of new rubber and leather filling his nostrils.
“Patrick told me early last week the school got a donation from some benefactor. Said I could put in some orders for new equipment. This is just for starters.” Pete stood to retrieve the basketball cart in the equipment room and rolled it out on its squeaky wheels. “We’ve got lots more money to play around with in the spring, but we’ll need to make some room for it. Get rid of the equipment that’s falling apart and make a plan. Ledgey doesn’t know yet, but she’s gonna flip.”
As long as it couldn’t be traced back to Will, that was fine. It wasn’t about him. And he didn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.
“You guys having a party without me?” Rebecca called from the doorway of the gymnasium. She cocked her head to the side as she moved toward them. “What’s all this stuff?”
Pete grabbed one of the unboxed basketballs and tossed the wrinkled lump to her. “Christmas came early this year, Ledgey. Our department got a huge donation.”
She stared at the ball, then glanced at the boxes all around them. “Ah, right. The donation. I just heard them talking about that in the main office.”
Will felt the heat of her gaze on him, and he focused more intently on the task at hand.
“I didn’t realize you’d already made some orders,” she said to Pete.
He nodded. “Patrick gave me the green light, so I started buying some essentials.”
As their department head, Pete had authority over purchase orders, but Will could tell Rebecca was ticked off not to have been included in the process.
“Hmm,” she muttered. “The kids are gonna lose their minds.” Her words lacked her usual enthusiasm.
“I know, right?” Pete laughed. “How often does this happen to our school besides never?”
Rebecca continued eyeing Will until she ducked inside the equipment room, and he finally released the breath he held. Which would be weirder? To keep saying nothing, or admit his wealthy father was Kendal High’s very own St. Nick? He was grateful when Rebecca returned carrying the impossible-to-speak-over electric ball pump with her. They got an assembly line going then, with Pete unboxing, Will unwrapping, and Rebecca inflating each of the balls.
When the warning bell sounded, Will told Pete he’d get things set up in the science room and made a fast break for the exit. If he could just get through the day without seeing her, maybe her obvious agitation about the donation would wane. She’d accept the gift and move past it. Find better things to concern herself with. He wished his father had given him a heads-up, or even Pete. Then he could’ve planned what the hell to say.
The morning moved along at a reasonable pace. He volunteered to help build sets for the upcoming play during his prep, which carried through lunch as well. Margaret had been kind enough to heat up his lasagna while he worked and thanked him profusely for his help.
As Rebecca predicted, the kids in his afternoon classes lost their minds over the new equipment. He’d given in and let the senior boys play a game of basketball instead of the lesson he’d prepared so they could “break them in.” He and Pete refereed the game, ensuring they had plenty of water breaks since there was a basketball practice after school for quite a few of the same guys. The tenth graders begged for a bonus day of football with the new pigskins, so he’d taught them a different variation of the game using two balls instead of one.
Relief pulsed through him at the sound of the three o’clock bell. He hadn’t needed to rehash the events from Friday after all, and Rebecca hadn’t gotten a chance to hound him for more information about the donation.
But he was foolish to think she wouldn’t eventually track him down.
Pete slipped out of the office ahead of Will to get things ready for the practice, and Rebecca snuck in behind him before the door closed again.
Her expression stayed neutral, but her folded arms and rigid posture promised a fight. “You know, growing up, I never really understood why some schools got more than others. We’d compete in tournaments against other schools in our own district, and they’d have their fancy jerseys and bags and, hell, even water bottles with their team logos on them. But it didn’t matter how much money they threw around or the fact that we always ended up with the leftovers. We still showed up, played our hearts out, and brought home trophies.”
“Rebecca, I’m—”
She carried on, blasting past his attempt to intervene. “Never once in all the years I attended Kendal High, or in my twelve years of teaching, has anyone donated specifically to our athletics department. So, call me crazy, but for it to happen now seems more than a coincidence.”
“It isn’t a coincidence,” Will said. He took a step closer, desperate to try to defuse her anger. “I asked
my father to donate to the school when I saw the state of the equipment. I thought it could help—”
“We were doing just fine without your father’s money,” she snarled. “Money may not be an object to the Whitney family, but it’s a very real object to most of us here. And showing your privilege is gonna rub a lot of people the wrong way. So, if you did this to impress the kids, or me, or to put yourself up on a pedestal, you shouldn’t have bothered.”
Will clenched his jaw to keep from snapping. Did she really think that this had been some kind of gimmick? A way for him to shine the spotlight on himself? He hadn’t wanted any attention from it at all, goddammit. Breathing out a frustrated sigh, he threw his hands to his sides. “This wasn’t about showing off or doing anything other than the right thing!”
“Then why not admit to it? You wouldn’t have avoided me all day unless you had a reason to feel guilty.”
“I don’t feel—”
“And in five weeks when you take off, that’s the legacy you’ll leave behind. A big, fat check. Just snap your fingers for a quick fix to help assuage your guilt over Aly, right? Silly me for thinking you actually wanted to make a difference.” She didn’t give him a chance to respond as she spun on her heel and yanked open the door again.
Rebecca slammed her water bottle on the countertop and filled it with ice from the freezer. Why couldn’t he leave well enough alone? And why the secret? What purpose did this serve for him? She planned on asking him outright, in a much less judgemental fashion, but he’d hidden away from her all day, and the suspicion and the bitterness festered inside her until it became alive and she couldn’t control it anymore.
And that lack of control pushed her over the edge.
Carrying the bottle to the sink, she poured water over the ice, which crackled and popped as it melted, then secured the cap and drank down the icy-cool liquid. But her blood still boiled.
She remembered back to his first day on the job when he’d worn his Crestwood T-shirt, questioning now whether it was an actual slip-up or just him showing off.
Learning to Love Page 14