I can’t get rid of that vision, though.
It can’t happen, of course, but it’s a pleasant fantasy.
Fate is such a bitch.
I can’t get away from Jamie Trent. I see him every day at Aiden’s football practice, every morning at drop-off, and every afternoon at pickup…until Jamie volunteers to walk over with the three or four other boys who play on the team with Aiden, so they don’t have to be picked up and driven around the complex. Every time we see each other, we end up chatting for a few minutes, and each time, it’s far too easy. His smile seems to sear into my soul, and his eyes seem to see my every secret.
Surely he can see how attracted to him I am…
Friday, a few weeks into the new school year, Mom and Dad offer to have Aiden stay the night so Cora and I can decompress a little. So, after football practice, I take Aiden to my parents’ house, give him hugs and kisses, and tell him to be good, and I meet Cora at José’s. Our night out goes swimmingly, at first.
Over tacos and margaritas, we spend an hour discussing the latest Clayton gossip, and our students, and what we’ll be covering at the next in-service meeting. Eventually we head over to Vinnie’s, skipping the karaoke tonight in favor of a low-key evening. We sit at the booth near the back and sip wine, leaving the dance floor to the others.
Cora is on a rant about her favorite subject: Lewis Calhoun.
“…There’s talk his uncle is retiring from the sheriff’s department, and if Tony Calhoun retires, word is they’ll bring in someone from the outside to take over and shake things up. And then what would Lewis do? Tony has been looking the other way about Lewis’s little business for years. It’s an open secret, and I’ve even heard Tony talking about it to his buddies at the bar. Like, it’s harmless, you know? It’s just a little pot. If Lewis was trying to sell anything harder, or in bigger weights, he’d have to step in, but as long as Lewis keeps it small and keeps it quiet and doesn’t sell to minors, no big deal. And anyway, Tony knows the narc officers in Columbia, which is where he speculates Lewis is getting his supply, and he could easily make a few calls and get Lewis’s supply line cut.”
I shake my head, snorting. “Cora. Why do you care about Lewis Calhoun’s marijuana supply line?”
“Oh, I don’t, not really. I’m just interested to see what he does if and when Tony retires.”
“He’ll have to stop selling, that’s what.”
Cora nods. “Right, but that’s how Lewis makes ends meet. His whole small engine repair business barely lets him scrape by. If Tony retires and Lewis has to stop selling, I’m not sure how he’ll manage.”
I laugh. “Um…by getting another job, and an honest one?”
“I told him he should start selling his junk art, but he’s like, nah, that’s just a hobby.”
I eye her—that’s a new one. “Junk art?”
She claps her hands over her mouth. “I wasn’t supposed to talk about that.”
“Cora.”
She sighs. “You can’t let it go beyond us, okay? He’s weird about it.”
I roll my eyes. “Cora, who would I tell? You’re my only real friend in town.”
“He salvages things from the scrapyard over in York, brings them back to his shop, and turns them into abstract art. He’s got that whole warehouse, you know? He bought the whole plot including the warehouse and the abandoned manufacturing floor and everything else for an absolute pittance from Gordy Garrison a few years ago just so he could have access to the mechanic’s shop. But over the years, he’s actually done a lot of work on the place, and he’s got quite a backlog of junk art pieces in that warehouse. Pretty cool stuff, actually.”
“You’ve been in Lewis’s warehouse?” I ask. He’s notoriously reclusive, and very few people have ever been in there.
She shrugs, focusing on her drink instead of meeting my eyes. “Yeah, once or twice. We hang out sometimes.”
“Cora?”
She looks up at me finally. “What?”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing. We hang out sometimes. Literally, that’s it. Nothing beyond literally just hanging out and talking.”
“That’s weird.”
She frowns at me. “Why is it weird? He’s an interesting guy. We’re just friends.”
I shrug, shake my head. “You were pushing him on me not that long ago, that’s all.”
“You’d never date him. I’m starting to think you’ll never date anyone.” She holds my gaze very intently. “Even Jamie Trent.”
I sigh. I’ve managed to go this long without an interrogation from Cora, but I knew it was coming. “Can we keep talking about Lewis?”
She laughs. “Nope. Nothing to talk about anyway. He’s weird, cool, interesting, funny, artistic, reclusive, kind of mysterious, very attractive, and yes, I may have a little bit of a crush on him and so what—we’re not talking about him, we’re talking about Jamie Trent, he of the starched and pressed chinos. Who, apparently, is also a big deal football player or something.”
I roll my eyes. “That rumor is a bit overstated. He played in college, that’s all.”
“So he’s got a hot body under those chinos and polos?”
“He actually wears button-downs and weird ties more than polos.”
Cora rests her chin on her fist and blinks at me. “Oh? Do tell.”
“Tell what? There’s nothing to tell.” I drop my voice, even though the bar is loud and there’s no one even within ten feet of us. “Yes, we slept together. Yes, it was absolutely incredible. Yes, I’m attracted to him. No, I’m not going to date him. Yes, he has a pretty great body—he stays in shape, but he doesn’t have the body he probably did in college. He has very nice arms and a flat stomach, but not quite a six-pack. A little definition, but not shredded.” I laugh and pat my stomach. “Like I have any room to be making judgments on that score, though.”
Cora hurls a mayo packet at me. “Oh shut up with that mess, Elyse Thomas. You lost forty pounds through hard work and determination! You’re sexy and you have nothing to be self-conscious about.”
“I lost forty and put ten back on and can’t seem to get it off again. And I did it by not eating garbage and walking a lot.”
“Speaking of which, aren’t we due to start back with our morning walks?”
I nod. “Yes, we are. I kinda slipped a bit this summer on the walking, but I was pretty active with Aiden. I do want to get back into our before-school walks.”
“I’ve been talking to Trish and Avery and Yvonne, and they want to walk with us.”
I sigh— selfishly, I kind of like our walks just being the two of us especially because along with Cora, Trish, Avery, and Yvonne are the heirs apparent to the Clayton Busybody Society. Cora would never admit to being a gossip or a busybody, but she loves keeping abreast of the town news, and she keeps tabs on everyone and always has a line on the juiciest tidbits.
Cora spins her now-empty wineglass by the stem. “Why won’t you date Jamie?”
“Do you really have to ask?”
She eyes me. “I know the excuses you’d make.”
“They’re not excuses, they’re reasons,” I insist. “And valid ones, at that.”
“Not wanting to confuse Aiden or let him get too attached when it may not work—that I get. But that’s not a reason to not date Jamie at all, just…be careful about it. Go slow. Don’t let Aiden know until you’re sure it’s something that can last.”
“Jamie is already all kinds of mixed up in Aiden’s life—he’s his principal as well as his football coach, now, and Aiden thinks Jamie hung the moon. He’d get one whiff of Jamie and I and be all over it like ants at a picnic.”
“What’s the real reason, Elyse?”
I groan, tipping my head backward and closing my eyes. “Cora, come on.”
“You come on, Elyse. It’s not a complicated question.”
“Isn’t it?”
She sighs. “Not really, no.”
I grab her wineglass and mine an
d slide out of the booth. “I’m going to get us more wine.”
She catches my wrist and hauls me back to the booth. “Oh no, you don’t.”
I slump to the bench. “Why are you digging into this so hard, Cora?”
“Because you’re my best friend and I smell bullshit. You like him. He likes you, I can tell. There could be something, babe. Why not explore it a little?”
“Because he’ll hurt me!” I snap, louder and more aggressively than I intend. “He’s divorced—and why? What’s the story? I’ll be the first to admit there’s no innocent party in a divorce, Cora. When I had the miscarriage, I shut down. I stopped wanting Daniel—I wanted nothing to do with him, and it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t my fault either, and I know that. But I took it out on him.”
“That’s not quite how it happened, Elyse.”
“Close enough. My point is, I’m not innocent.”
“And sure, maybe there’s a story there, and yeah, Jamie probably holds his portion of the blame for whatever happened between him and his ex-wife, but that’s just life. That doesn’t mean he’s not a good and decent guy at the core. And you know what? Yeah, maybe he will hurt you. You date someone, you get involved with someone, you get hurt. It’s inevitable. Hell, we’ve been best friends our whole lives, literally from birth, and how many times have we pissed each other off and hurt each other’s feelings over the years? How many times have your parents had blow-out fights? I remember most of them. I remember when your mom moved back to Montana for two months because she and your dad were fighting so bad.”
I sigh. “They worked that out, and haven’t had a fight like that since.”
“Right! That’s exactly my point! And do you think that didn’t hurt them both? Of course it did! Your mom hates Montana. She got hurt, and your dad got hurt, and it was a huge, giant, messy mess. But their relationship was worth it for both of them, so they figured it out, and they forgave each other. We forgive each other. And if Jamie were to hurt you, you’d be faced with two basic choices: either it’s worth it and you forgive him, or it’s not and you don’t. You can’t know which one it’ll be when he does something to hurt you—because he will—until you give him a chance.”
“I thought what I had with Daniel was worth it,” I say. “I thought we could work it out. I wanted to work it out. I didn’t want to get divorced. I thought maybe he’d need a month or two away and he’d miss me and miss Aiden, and he’d come back and we’d—we’d—” I blink hard, choking. I stuff it down; force myself to be okay, to keep going. “I thought we’d be a family again. Mommy, Daddy, and Aiden.”
“Apparently Daniel had other plans,” Cora says, her voice soft. “I know. I wanted that for you, too.”
“You did not,” I snap.
She rears back, hurt. “Yes, I did! And damn you for doubting me, Elyse.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I just meant you never liked him.”
“No, I didn’t, and I won’t apologize for that. I always saw that cowardly center of him. I never thought he’d have the inner strength to weather a life with you. He was a coward his whole life. He let Brad Vostich beat him up every single day for two years and never fought back, never told anyone, never dealt with it. Just gave him his lunch money, literally, and took the beatings. Hell, Brad tried to bully me and I socked him in the jaw, and he left me alone. Your wimp of an ex-husband just took it, because he was too scared to fight back. And it’s not like Brad was even that big! Daniel was nice, yes. He was good-looking, yes. But he was also the stereotypical gym teacher, and you know it. He ended up teaching gym because he had no idea what else to do with himself. He had no special skills or talents or dreams. He was just…there. At least now we have Kelly Pruitt teaching gym, and she’s fanatic about fitness and health. She teaches gym because she loves kids and loves teaching them to be healthy. It’s a calling for her. Daniel just did it as a cop-out.”
I sigh. “Can we stop trash-talking my ex, please?”
“Fine. My point is that, yes, I never liked Daniel Thomas, not for one second, not at any point in our lives. I never liked him for you, and I never knew what you saw in him. But—but…” She reaches out and takes my hands. “I wanted your marriage to work, for you. Because you wanted it to. You loved him—god knows why, but you did. He’s Aiden’s father. You wanted that family, and you had it, and it got taken away from you, and yes, sure, you can shoulder some of the blame because no one is ever totally innocent.” She leans forward, squeezing my hands again. “And what I want for you more than anything is for you to realize that you can move on from Daniel, that you haven’t yet, and that you deserve happiness—you just have to let yourself have it.”
“And you think my happiness will come from Jamie Trent.”
Her eyes flick over my shoulder, widen a bit, and then she glances at me, a mysterious smirk on her face. “It’s not that I think your happiness will come from Jamie, just that I think you could be happy with him.” She grabs her purse. “And here he comes now—okay, bye!”
And then she’s out of the booth and vanishing into the crowd near the bar. I barely have time to register that she’s gone before another body is filling the booth.
Jamie.
With two glasses of red wine.
His smile is gentle and hopeful, and he’s still dressed for work in tan slacks, a white button-down, and a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles necktie loose around his neck, the top button undone, sleeves rolled up, that five o’clock shadow dusting his jawline.
“Hi, Elyse.”
I swallow hard. “Hi, Jamie.”
9
“Cora seems to enjoy leaving you swinging around me,” he says, grinning.
I sigh, rolling my eyes. “Yeah, she does.”
“Another girls’ night out?”
I shrug. “Just Cora and me having some downtime.”
He nods. “You and Cora are pretty close, then?”
“You could say that. We were in preschool together and have spent just about every single intervening day together since.” I laugh. “Actually, it goes back further than that. We were born the same day, in rooms next door to each other at the hospital. My mom says we were in bassinets in the maternity ward next to each other, and that we were just fated to be best friends for life.”
“That’s really awesome. I’m kind of jealous of that.”
“You don’t have any friends like that?”
He shakes his head. “Not really. I mean, there are a couple childhood friends I’m still in contact with, but they’re all back in Nashua and I’m here.”
“This is kind of an odd place to end up,” I say.
He shrugs. “I…I needed a drastic change.”
“Well, moving from the capital of New Hampshire to our quaint little Pennsylvania village is as drastic a change as you can get short of leaving the country.”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“Mind if I ask why you moved?” I shouldn’t ask that. Asking him personal questions will lead to him asking me personal questions…and that’s us getting to know each other, and that’s entering dangerous territory.
Yet, I just can’t seem to stop myself.
He lifts a shoulder. “The divorce.” He tilts his head to one side. “Well, that’s not entirely true. It’s more complicated than that, actually. I was sort of stuck at the school I was teaching at in New Hampshire. They’d just hired a new assistant principal, and the principal was relatively young, like forty-five or so, and was clearly going to be a lifer. I wanted to be in administration. I loved teaching, but I wanted to be a principal—that was my goal from day one. I sent resumés to school districts across the country—I didn’t really want to move, but I was willing to. And I guess I…well, I sort of overlooked how resolute my wife—my ex-wife was about not moving. We were having issues anyway, and I guess I justified it by thinking that a change of scenery might help our marriage, you know? Like, we’d both been born and raised in the Nashua area, and we knew everyone and everyone kn
ew us. And I thought, if it was just us in a new place, and we had to rely on each other, maybe that would fix things.”
I wince. “Not so much?”
“No. Like I said, we’d been struggling with…well, issues, I guess, and we’ll leave it at that for now. I didn’t think it was over, and neither of us had said the D word at any point. I was sending my resumé out all over the place, taking interviews at schools everywhere from Oregon to Texas to Florida, hoping for a principal job, and nothing was opening up. It was just a constant flood of ‘not the right fit’ or ‘not quite what we’re looking for.’ Meaning, nobody wanted to hire a thirty-something teacher with zero administrative experience as a head principal.”
“I mean, don’t you usually start as an assistant principal somewhere?”
He laughs. “Well yeah, usually, and I was applying for anything that had the word ‘principal’ attached to it. Time was slipping away, you know? I’d been teaching for ten years at that point already, and I was eager to start the next phase of my career as an educator.” He waves a hand. “And then one day I got a call back from this elementary school in the middle of nowhere in Pennsylvania. Their principal was retiring and they were thinking about hiring someone young and fresh to take over and shake things up.”
“And here you are?”
“Eh, not quite.” He stares beyond me, seeing the past, I think. “I did the interview, felt confident about it…but also felt a good bit of apprehension about such a drastic move. And the issues Iris and I were having…weren’t getting better. They were getting worse, if anything. And when I told her I wanted to take this job, she…well, she didn’t respond well. And that’s when the D word got dropped—by her, first—not that it matters in the end. She told me she wasn’t going to move, and if I wanted to take this job, go ahead, but she’d be serving me divorce papers if I did.”
“Ouch.”
He nods. “Yeah. And I think once that idea gets floated, you can’t take it back.”
“No, you can’t,” I agree, thinking of Daniel.
“So, I told them I needed time to think, and they gave me two weeks to tell them yes or no, but that if I said yes, I’d have as much time as I needed within reason to make the transition happen.” He sighs. “But really, I knew I was going to say yes. I just wanted time to see if I could salvage things with Iris.”
Pregnant in Pennyslvania Page 10