Twice Blessed

by J J DiBenedetto

  That wasn’t precisely true. Lucy had tried to help. She’d taken it upon herself to read out the instructions for Allison, which had worked wonderfully until she’d accidentally skipped a page. “OK, I did make a few changes, but mostly it’s how Mom and Dad left it. Why mess with perfection, right?”

  Mike grinned. “I agree. A good bookstore is definitely my idea of perfection.” Now he did meet her eyes, just for a moment, and Allison couldn’t believe just how blue and bright they were. It was like a special effect. How on Earth was this guy still single, especially working in a school where half the female staff was single, too?

  Or was he single at all? She was just assuming he was, because Lucy was trying to set her up with him, but how did Lucy know? It was hard to picture this man talking about his love life to a room full of nine-year-olds. He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, but that was no guarantee of anything.

  Did it really matter, though? She wasn’t looking to date anyone anyway. Right?

  Chapter 3

  His neighbor had been right. Allison Miller was both nice and pretty. Or maybe “beautiful” was a better adjective. She had long, light brown hair, almost exactly the same color as his tenth-grade girlfriend. Mike wasn’t sure why that particular comparison came to mind, except that Jeanette happened to be his first love, not to mention the first girl he ever kissed.

  He tried to put that out of his mind. Jeanette from tenth grade had nothing to do with anything, and neither did Allison Miller’s hair. Or her eyes, which were gray-blue and seemed to sparkle when the light caught them. Or her smile, which was warm and inviting and made him want to – what?

  It didn’t matter, because he wasn’t going to do anything with Allison Miller, except buy a couple of books from her.

  “You teach science, right?” Allison was still smiling. Of course she was. Did she have any idea how entrancing – enticing – that smile was? “I just got something in the other day you might like. There’s a new biography of Thomas Edison, it’s right over there by the front door, second shelf from the top.”

  Was she psychic, too, on top of everything else? That was the exact book he wanted. “Thanks, that’s actually what I came in here for.” He went over to get it, trying to clear his head in the few steps over to the bookshelf and then back to the counter. Why was she having this kind of effect on him? He wasn’t looking to date anyone. He still wasn’t really over Isabel and the divorce, even thought it had been over a year ago – longer than the marriage itself had been.

  Allison took the book from his hand and set it down next to the cash register – well, the iPad that, he assumed, served as one. “Can I tempt you with anything else?” Why did she have to say it that way? “We’re open until eight o’clock, you’ve got plenty of time to browse.”

  That sounded wonderful, but it was probably best to leave now, before he blurted out something embarrassing. “I’d love to, but I have to get home and grade homework. I wouldn’t want Lucy here to think I was shirking my duties.”

  Right on cue, Lucy piped up, “What does shirking mean?”

  Before her mother could answer, Mike gave Lucy a grin and said, “Ask Ms. Matthews at school tomorrow. She’s the English teacher, she can explain it better than I can.”

  He chatted with Lucy and Allison for another minute before he checked out and left the store. On the chilly walk to his car around the corner, and all through the drive home, he replayed the conversation, trying to figure out why he had reacted so strongly to Allison.

  He didn’t come up with an answer, and it continued to gnaw at him through dinner, through the hour and a half it took to grade the fourth grade homework, and even through the hour he spent trying to read the Thomas Edison book.

  What was going on? He wasn’t lonely, he wasn’t searching for love, he wasn’t desperate, he wasn’t any of those things. Except that, the more he insisted to himself that he wasn’t, the less he believed it.

  “LUCY, TELL ME THE TRUTH. Did you try to set me up on a date with your teacher?”

  Allison didn’t really expect an honest answer, but there was always the chance that asking it so directly might shock the truth out of her daughter.

  Lucy wasn’t dishonest; Allison couldn’t think of a time that her daughter had seriously lied to her. But if Lucy thought she was doing the right thing, helping save her mother from a life of loneliness, Allison was certain that Lucy could and would lie right to her face and do it with a clean conscience.

  “No, Mom! He came over totally on his own! Remember, he said he was looking for that book.”

  That was true, Mike Jensen had said that. But Lucy’s answer had come a little too quickly, and she’d sounded a little too wounded. If she really was innocent, there’d have been more of an unconscious whine to her voice when answering a false accusation, which was something she’d picked up from Allison herself.

  “Yes, he was. And I think you’re right, he is very smart. I think you’re lucky to have such a good teacher.” If direct confrontation didn’t work, maybe playing along with her would cause her to admit her role in the plot. “As a matter of fact, I should probably try to set up a meeting with him. I missed him at the parent-teacher night last month.”

  “You totally should, Mom!” And there was her answer. No child was ever that excited about their parent meeting with their teacher, no matter how well they were doing in school. Lucy appeared to realize she’d oversold it, because she took a deep breath before continuing, “I mean, I guess it would be good, right? You’re supposed to meet all my teachers, so it would just be part of his job, right?”

  “Right, Lucy.” Honestly, she should meet with him, and get a full report on how Lucy was doing in science. And then, in a flash, the solution to the whole situation came to her. “I’ll write him a note, you can give it to him at school tomorrow, OK?”

  “Yes, Mom!” Lucy hopped up from the kitchen table and was halfway down the hall to her bedroom before she stopped. “Sorry, Mom, may I be excused? I have to call Bailey and ask her about our homework.”

  “Sure, honey.” She’d be doing the calling on the landline; Allison had adamantly refused to let Lucy have a smartphone. It had been an unpleasant three weeks over the summer, when two girls in her class had gotten phones, and Lucy had begged to have one for herself.

  “Absolutely not,” Allison had told her. “Not until you’re in high school, and I’m not making any promises then, either. And if you con your grandparents or Aunt Jessie or anybody else into buying you one, I’ll take a hammer to it.”

  Lucy had, finally and without much in the way of good grace, given up. But it wasn’t a total victory, because the landline was tied up for at least an hour every night – just as her own parents’ landline had been tied up by Allison when she’d been Lucy’s age.

  Allison didn’t listen in on Lucy’s conversation with Bailey, but she had a very good idea of what they were talking about. Bailey was Lucy’s best friend, and likely her co-conspirator in the matchmaking plot. Let them think they were succeeding; what harm could it do?

  Chapter 4

  “Mr. Jensen? My mom asked me to give this to you.” Lucy Miller dropped an envelope on his desk and trotted to her seat.

  It was two minutes until ten; he had time to open it up and read whatever Allison had written before the bell rung, but he decided to leave it until after class. He didn’t want to be distracted, if it was – well, something distracting, not that he had any idea what she might have written that would be distracting.

  He left the envelope and took a brief glance at his notes, not that he needed to. He knew what he was talking about today, and tomorrow and all of next week, too. They were still on the solar system, and today’s subject was the moon.

  He spent most of the hour telling his class about the moon landing. It was hard to get his mind around the fact that it was fifty years ago. Back in July of 1969, his parents would have been the same age as his students were now. And it had to be strange for the kids,
too – ancient history that they had no connection at all to.

  “How come they didn’t keep sending people to the moon, Mr. Jensen?” Tommy Dawkins, a tall, dark-haired boy in the last row asked.

  He’d always wondered the same thing himself. “It was really hard. It took thousands of people for each flight, and outer space is the most hostile place we can imagine. It’s not easy, the way they make it look on Star Trek.” He got a few blank looks at that. “Or Star Wars.” They understood that reference better. “So you’ve all seen those movies, at least. I’m glad your parents are doing something right.”

  Speaking of parents, that note from Allison Miller was still there on his desk, and as soon as the bell rang and the class filed out, he opened up the envelope. She had neat handwriting, which didn’t surprise him. She seemed like the type of person who would.

  Dear Mr. Jensen,

  I enjoyed meeting you yesterday, and although we didn’t talk for long, I can tell that my daughter is in good hands in your class, so thank you for that.

  I wanted to warn you that we seem to be the targets of a plot. My daughter is conspiring with one of her friends, possibly Bailey Evans, to play matchmaker for us.

  I have to take full responsibility for this. I let Lucy watch “The Parent Trap” a few weeks ago, and it must have given her the idea.

  Anyway, I wanted to give you fair warning. I have not let her know that I’m on to her plan yet, and if you don’t mind me making a suggestion, I think you shouldn’t, either.

  Let her think she’s succeeding, and she’ll be happy, and it will keep her from coming up with any other bright ideas concerning our personal lives.

  Yours truly,

  Allison Miller

  He had already figured it out for himself; Bailey Evans had hardly been subtle yesterday afternoon. But it was still good to have confirmation. And he agreed with Allison – let Lucy and her friend think they were getting away with something; it would keep them from coming up with any new mischief.

  On the other hand, this was exactly how things had started with Isabel, back in Des Moines. Except in that case, Isabel had been the one plotting, and her son, Billy, was the bait she used. Isabel was looking to replace the husband she’d lost, and she had wanted Mike to fill that role.

  It hadn’t worked out, because what Isabel really wanted was not someone who’d be a husband to her and a father to Billy, but someone who would be the exact same kind of husband and father that the man she’d lost had been. And Mike couldn’t be that man.

  “I’m not him,” he’d finally told Isabel. “I’m not his clone. I can’t be him. I can give you everything I’ve got, but I can’t give you that. Nobody can.” There’d been screaming after that from her, and tears from the both of them, and then, finally, an acknowledgement that things could not continue as they were. It wasn’t fair to either of them, or to Billy.

  And now, a year later, another student of his was part of a matchmaking plot for a single mother. Wasn’t there some saying about history and people being doomed to repeat it?

  ALLISON HAD SPENT MOST of last night and all of this morning second-guessing herself about the note she’d sent to Mike Jensen. Would he take it the wrong way? Would he think she was playing some sort of weird game with him? Or insulting him?

  She never did come up with an answer, but she was finally diverted from the question when Kelly Fallon showed up at one-thirty and – after drinking three cups of hot cocoa – asked her about the store’s booth at the Harvest Festival coming up a week from Saturday.

  “Can I sit at the booth, boss?”

  Allison was immediately suspicious. Since when did any teenager ever volunteer for extra – unpaid! – hours at work?

  “Let me guess. This has something to do with Vince, doesn’t it?” Vince was a boy in Kelly’s year, and they had been “sort of dating” – Allison had no idea what, exactly, that meant – for the past three months. Kelly had been talking about how they were going to spend the whole day together at the Harvest Festival, and even go to the big Harvest Ball together Saturday night.

  “Of course not!” There was confirmation. She recognized the outraged tone of the teenager who’d been called out and would sooner die than admit the truth; she’d used it herself often enough in her own high school days. “I just want to help out, is that a crime?”

  “No, Kelly. And I’d be grateful for the help.” But she wouldn’t count on it; Kelly could easily change her mind about Vince between now and then, or, more likely, change it back and forth a dozen times. Again, something she was familiar with from her own dating life in high school. “I figure we’ll have storytime for the kids, you could read to them, and I’ll make sure the coffee and hot cocoa keeps flowing. What do you think?”

  Kelly agreed that sounded good, and then began brainstorming about which books would be appropriate. Allison left her to it, and went back to pondering her own dating – or, more accurately, non-dating – life.

  Maybe she hadn’t really learned anything since high school and the on-again, off-again boyfriends that seemed to change with each passing season. Maybe she actually was playing some sort of weird game with Mike Jensen, just as she had with Oliver Beatty back in ninth grade, or Bruno Gorcey in tenth grade.

  No, she had evolved past all that nonsense. Hadn’t she?

  Or maybe it was a game, but the person she was playing was herself. The human mind was a complicated thing, after all, and sometimes it worked against itself. She told herself at least once a week that she was open to thinking about the idea of possibly seeing if she might consider dating again. It had been four years since the accident, four years since she’d lost her husband. She could never replace him – and she never wanted to – but that didn’t mean she couldn’t find another love.

  Someday. But maybe there was a part of her that thought “someday” should come sooner rather than later, and that maybe her daughter’s teacher was someone she could find that love with. It was certainly true that he was the first man who’d really made any kind of impression on her since Kevin.

  On the other hand, it wasn’t fair to him to use him as – what? Practice for her flirting and relationship muscles? That was a horrible thought. But that wasn’t who she was. Sure, she’d been like that in high school, but she’d grown out of it and never looked back.

  At least, she hoped so. She supposed she’d find out soon enough.

  Chapter 5

  Mike spent most of the afternoon thinking about Allison’s note, and wondering if she actually had enlisted her daughter in the matchmaking scheme. That’s what Isabel had done, although Billy hadn’t known he was part of the plan. Isabel had just made a point of talking about how much Billy needed a father, and how that nice, handsome new teacher would probably be a great dad someday when he got married.

  Billy was a smart boy, and he put two and two together just as his mother had intended. Mike hadn’t been as smart, and the result had been a few happy months, a few truly miserable months and then a divorce that, while not as ugly as it might have been, still had been no picnic. He had no desire to go through any of that again.

  On the other hand, he had no desire to go through life distrusting everyone – especially every single mother of one of his students – that he met. That was no way to live.

  He’d trust that Allison was on the level, and take her advice to let Lucy think she was getting away with something. To that end, when he spotted the girl by the door, bundling herself up in preparation for the walk home, he called out to her. “Lucy!” She turned and came over to him. “When you see your mom, can you tell her that I’ll be coming by the store on my way home? There’s another book I need to pick up.”

  Lucy’s face lit up. “Sure, Mr. Jensen! I think she’ll be really happy you’re coming over.”

  When he walked into The Last Page two hours later, Lucy’s words were proven true. Allison was behind the counter, doing something on her iPad, but when she heard the bells and looked up to
see who’d come in the door, she smiled. And it was one heck of a smile. A thousand watts, at least. Maybe five thousand.

  “Mr. Jensen! I’m glad you stopped in. Lucy said you might.”

  She was wearing a dress, rather than jeans and a sweatshirt as she had been yesterday. That seemed a little bit odd, unless she had wanted to make an impression on someone. On him, presumably. And that dress definitely made one. “Call me Mike, please. And I’m always glad to come in. I mean, look at this place. I could live here, you know?”

  It wasn’t even an exaggeration. Those plush chairs in the back looked comfortable enough to sleep in, there was coffee available at all times, and of course books as far as the eye could see. What else would anyone need?

  “That’s what I like to hear. Maybe I should hire you to do some advertising for me,” Allison said, still beaming. If she cranked that smile up any brighter, it would be blinding. “But I’m guessing you didn’t come in here just to tell me how much you love my store.” Lucy was in the back, pretending to read, but Mike could see her peeking out from behind the book she was holding in front of her face.

  “I was looking for something, actually. There was a book with all the photos from the moon landings that NASA found in their archives, it came out over the summer. I want to bring it in to show the kids, if you’ve got it.” It wasn’t just a cover story; he really did want the book.

  “You wouldn’t happen to know who the author was, by any chance?” He shrugged. “Not a problem, I’m sure I can find it.” Allison’s smile finally dimmed as she went to work, tapping away at her iPad. “Found it! But I don’t have any copies. I can order it for you, though, if you want.” The smile brightened again. “You’d have to come back in a couple of days to pick it up. I hope that won’t be a problem.”