Finding Love in Forgotten Cove (Island County Series Book 1) (5 page)

“You’re on speaker and he’s standing right next to me with a huge grin.”

“Well, since you brought it up, Bethany, I’m actually that guy. It’s a small, small world.”

Bethany’s laughter was so loud it made the cellphone buzz, and I just glared at my ankle, happy to see that at least there was a silver lining. I had shaved.

“I’ll be right over, doll.”

“Do you happen to know when she last got her tetanus shot?” Mason asked.

“I do. It was two years ago when she fell out of a canoe and hit her head on a pier.”

Mason’s bemused expression was impossible to hide. “Well, that’s good news.”

After two glasses of wine, three stitches, and a promise to have dinner with Bethany tonight, last night turned out well. Mason left pretty quickly after Bethany arrived.

It was early afternoon as I looked around the classroom at the countless bored expressions staring back at me, and I knew I needed to scrap today’s lesson plan. I’d just handed out the permission forms to all the students so we could take some field trips. I waited until the last person stuffed the piece of paper in their folder before I began.

“Okay, we have the summer to discuss and dissect historical events that have shaped where we are today. By the end of the summer we need to have covered the historical chronology of world events. We need to be able to critically analyze global expansion, revolutions, emergence of new nations and the challenges to democracy and human rights. Those seem like pretty lofty goals, and I think the only way we’ll get through it is if you guys tell me what you’re interested in.”

A hand shot up in the front row.

It was Brendan. He had failed several subjects in the last half of the school year. He went from a B student in September to not even showing up in class by May. Brendan hadn’t opened up to any of the teachers and his parents weren’t cooperative. The learning plan that was developed at the mid-year point was never executed at home, but now his hand was in the air. Maybe there was hope.

“Brendan.” I smiled and waited for his response.

“Indie Rock and Death Metal,” he announced, as if a victory had been gained. The class laughed, and I couldn’t hold my smile back.

“Okay. So maybe a trip to EMP is in order for the class. Anyone else who’s interested in the history of music? I’ve never been to the
Experience Music Project
, but I’ve heard it’s a fantastic museum. I think we can definitely fit that in as long as you all bring me your signed slips by the end of the week. Okay. Anyone else?”

The room fell silent as confusion settled over the class.

“How’s that related to history?” Sarah asked. She was a student sitting in the back of the class, looking somewhat amused. History and English were the only classes she didn’t do well in. Her strengths all year had been math and science. Her mind was more analytical, and it was my job to tap into that as well. Make her world not so black and white.

“How is it not? Do you realize that if it weren’t for living in a democratic nation where free speech is upheld, you might not get to listen to Death Metal? Imagine your favorite bands being thrown in jail because they used profanity in a song. Would we have any bands left?” I asked.

The students laughed and immediately relaxed in their chairs.

“There are many countries that not only decide what kind of music their citizens will listen to, they will throw musicians who don’t conform to the government’s rules in prison. Sometimes those musicians and artists are even executed.”

“Seriously?” Brendan asked, sitting up in his seat.

“Very. Have you heard of Pussy Riot?” I asked.

His cheeks turned red and he shook his head.

“I have,” Delilah replied. She was sitting next to Brendan and seemed very shy.

“Do you mind telling us who they are?”

She smiled and nodded, sitting up in her chair a little straighter. “They’re a feminist punk rock group in Moscow who were labeled anti-Putin and morally corrupt by the Russian government.”

“Oh, I remember hearing about them,” another student said. “Didn’t they get put in jail?”

I nodded. “We tend to take for granted what we have here, and it’s good to learn the history of our country and how our freedoms came to be so that we can better understand how lucky we are. Wouldn’t you be horrified if your favorite musician got thrown in jail or worse for what he sang?”

“That would suck,” Brendan agreed.

“Yes, it would. We’ve had our own struggles with censorship too,” I continued. “So tell me, what makes this country so special? Is there something in particular that allows us a sense of freedom?”

“The First Amendment,” Delilah answered.

“Which is?”

“It’s the one about free speech.”

“That it is. So music’s history is a very important component to understanding what the First Amendment means to us individually. It may not be music to everyone. It might be books, magazines, religious scriptures… But I think for the first assignment, I’d like each of you to analyze the First Amendment and write a one-page paper about how it has shaped your life. Before you know it, we will have marked off studying about the challenges to democracy and human rights.”

I waited for the chorus of groans but none came.

“And we will see about scheduling a trip to the EMP in Seattle. How about each of you take out a piece of paper and write down what interests you? Brendan said music and we’ve got that on the potential calendar now so let’s keep it going. It can be completely anonymous. Once you’re finished with that, I’d like you to get into small groups and write down your favorite bands. We’ll take the rest of class researching your artists, and we’ll see if any of them have talked about the subject of free speech or if any of the musicians have encountered problems in other countries.”

I heard the shredding of paper as students began ripping out pieces to write on when my gaze landed on a very handsome man standing out in the hallway, listening to me teach my class. Mason’s arms were folded in front of him, exposing his muscular forearm.

He smiled, and I glanced at the class that was busy working away on the assignments.

Mason was only a few steps outside the door, and it took everything I had not to go running into the hall to say hi. So instead, I slowly walked over to the door and shut it right in his face. I smiled through the glass and his grin deepened as he shook his head. I looked back at the students who had now broken into small groups, their chatter quite lively, as they discussed which bands to look up.

I looked back through the window in the door and saw Mason walking back over, this time, carrying a small chair meant for a student. He plunked it down and took a seat, checking his watch before meeting his gaze with mine.

Mason certainly was persistent. I wasn’t sure what he was doing at the school, but I was definitely enjoying the view. He was going to come over to the house this afternoon before my dinner with Bethany to go over everything since that never happened last night. Maybe he was worried I’d hurt myself on the way back to the house and wanted to escort me there. I tried to hide my smile, but it was pretty much impossible knowing he was on the other side of the door.

The air in the classroom had quickly become stifling since I’d shut the door. The students’ topics were quickly going astray, which was what happened after any length of time on one assignment. I walked over to the stainless steel cabinet and entered in the combination on the lock. We had several iPads ready and waiting. I grabbed one for each group and locked the cabinet back up.

“Okay, it’s a beautiful day out there. Let’s get ourselves outside and finish the assignment in the rare Washington sunshine. Collect your items now so you don’t have to come back in.”

The class’s gleeful eruption of cheers made my heart fill with joy. At least by the end of summer I’d feel happy about where I’d spent my time. The students congregated by the door, and I snaked my way through the crowd with my purse and iPads in hand. I opened the door and made no eye contact with Mason as I led the class into the hall.

“Hey, Mason. What are you doing hanging out in the hall?” Jared asked. He was another one of my students, and he was getting a definite “A” today.

I walked right by Mason and tried not to laugh as another one of my students pointed out the obvious.

“Hey, it’s Mason. Are we on for basketball on Friday?” Brendan asked. “Why are you sitting in a chair in the middle of the hall?”

“I wasn’t expecting anyone to walk by,” Mason grumbled, and I enjoyed every second of his awkward predicament. “And that’s Mr. Rhodes to you.”

“Since when?”

“Since you’re in summer school,” Mason replied.

“Okay. So why are you hanging out in a chair that’s too small in the middle of the hallway, Mr. Rhodes?” Brendan tried again.

God, I loved my students.

“No reason, really,” Mason replied.

“That’s kind of weird,” Brendan laughed.

“Yes, it is,” I called behind me as we made our way to the exit.

I pushed open the doors and the heat from outside washed over me, and I knew I’d made the right decision to get the kids outdoors.

“Okay, let’s go sit on the lawn under the hemlock tree. Should be a good amount of shade.” I walked the class over, and they all began to spread out as I quickly counted the students to make sure no one had slipped out the back entrance, and my heart quickened when I came up short by one. Just as I was about to doubt my judgment on leaving the classroom, the double doors swung open quickly, and Mason walked out with Scott, the missing student, next to him.

Mason was grinning and Scott was scowling as they traipsed down the stairs.

“There you are again,” Brendan teased Mason before eyeing me and then Mason again. “Aww. I see what’s going on.”

“Absolutely nothing,” Mason said, pointing for Scott to take a seat next to Brendan.

“Thank you for that,” I said, handing out the iPads.

“So let’s start with Scott’s group since he seemed the least impressed with this assignment. His three teammates glared at him while he looked at them for help, which they weren’t going to give.

While Scott struggled with the assignment he obviously hadn’t participated in with the rest of the group, I noticed Delilah scoot a little closer to Brendan and he was completely oblivious. I hoped this wouldn’t be the summer of crushed dreams and broken hearts.

“Scott, I don’t like to call students out when it isn’t necessary. It’s not my style and makes me about as uncomfortable as you are right now. So let’s make a pact that as long as you can muster twenty percent more than you’re giving now, I won’t call you out. But if you to try to sneak off again, I’ll write you and anyone else up only because I don’t want one student to ruin it for all of us being able to go off campus for our class. Got it?”

“Got it,” Scott mumbled.

“Great. Okay. Can someone who actually did the work in Scott’s group tell me what you came up with, and we’ll all use our iPads to look up anything we can find surrounding the First Amendment and that band.”

I felt Mason’s gaze on me and it was intense. Really intense, but what struck me more was that he was the only man in my life who took the time to see what it was that made me happy. He was watching me in my element, and for the first time ever, I felt more connected with this stranger than I ever had with my ex-fiancé. And that was a problem. I promised myself that I wouldn’t get involved with any man until I checked some items off my bucket list and that would take years on a teacher’s salary.

As one of the students began listing some of the bands they were interested in, I looked up and my eyes connected with Mason’s, and I knew coming back to the island was either going to be one of the biggest mistakes of my life or one of the best happenstances to fall into my lap in a very long time. But either way, I wasn’t sure I was up for the challenge. In fact, I knew I wasn’t.

Growing up, I never worried about who I’d come to love because above all else in my world, I was in love with my family. I never fantasized about Prince Charming because I assumed—incorrectly—that he’d just appear. So my real love was our family and being with them had made my life complete. I’d never been boy crazy as a teen. I had a crush here or there, but nothing more than a fleeting relationship. I was easily distracted. Maybe it would’ve been better if I had. But regardless, my mother and father’s affection for one another was apparent to me even at a young age. One of my first memories was of our father cradling my mother in his arms, kissing her passionately as the evening sun dipped deep into the sea. I can still hear their friends cheering wildly as my sister and I looked on with a mixture of confusion and admiration.