Fatty Patty (A James Bay Novel) (4 page)

“I’m not sick now.”

“Let’s keep it that way. I don’t want you having a relapse.”

Her chin tilts high. “I’m fine, Patty. When you are going to quit babying me?”

As soon as someone else steps up to take my place.

“Dr. Brown called from the clinic a few weeks ago and offered me more work, but I told him no. I let him think it was because I was still sick, but the truth is… well, the truth is, I didn’t want to work.” She bites her bottom lip. “You’re going to think I’m horrible when I tell you this.”

I try hard not to roll my eyes. Priscilla, always thinking up some new drama. “You are not horrible.”

“I am,” she insists. “And I’m ashamed. Only a horrible person would be so jealous.”

I feel the frown pinch my face. “Jealous of what? Of who?

“You.”

I stare bug-eyed at my twin, certain Priscilla has lost her mind. She’s got things twisted around. She’s the ravishing beauty: sweet, delicate, patient, and kind. While as for me…

“You have every summer off.” Her eyes glisten blue and enormous. “You do so much for us and I know I shouldn’t complain. You work hard, Patty, and you carry most of the load. That’s not fair.” She halts, her voice growing thinner by the minute. “Teaching isn’t easy and you deserve a break. But you get Christmas vacation, plus a week at Easter… and then all summer, too. And having you home these past couple months, I started thinking it might be nice if I could take a little vacation myself every once in awhile, too.”

Now I’m the one who feels horrible. Here I am, griping about what a horrible fiasco it would be to pick up a summer job, while Priscilla works all year round. Her job is a perfect fit for someone in poor health and she’s comfortable in the cozy sterile niche she’s created for herself. Medical summaries needing transcription are delivered daily by a runner from the clinic and a computer keeps her networked to the medical world, producing a small, steady income. But it isn’t enough. It will never be enough. And while we’re not on the edge of financial ruin, sometimes it feels like we’re tottering dangerously close. It’s a scary, lonely feeling.

“Starting tomorrow, things are going to change.” Her eyes glow with a fierce determination. “I’ll call Dr. Brown and ask him to send me more files. From now on, I’m going to work harder and smarter. I’ll bring in more money and you won’t need to worry so much. I can do it, Patty. I swear I can do it.”

She grabs me in a fierce hug. Her shoulders feel painfully thin. “Things will all work out. We’ve lived in this house all our lives and I know you love it as much as I do. We can do this, Patty. We can save it.”

My heart sinks. Priscilla would faint if she knew how I really felt. I’ve never dared admit the truth.

“I’ve got faith in you,” she says. “You’ll think of something so we don’t have to sell.”

Good thing she’s got faith in me, because I’m totally without a clue. Mama left things in a tidy legal knot, putting the title to the house in both our names. Without Priscilla’s signature, there will be no sale.

“You’ve always been the smart one, Patty. You’ll figure out what we should do.”

Smart one? I’ve got my doubts. But my twin is right about one thing. It’s going to be up to me to figure out a way through this financial mess.

Problem is, I don’t want to find a way through it.

I want out.

# # #

Ten years of humdrum staff meetings have taught me there’s no need to hurry. I make it through the library door with minutes to spare. The room is crowded with familiar faces and loud chatter. I wave at a few teachers and head for the snack table where I pour myself a cup of lukewarm coffee and turn my back on the tray of assorted cookies. Those coconut macaroons can whisper sweet nothings all they want, but I’m done listening. Day Six of my brand new life. Cookies not included.

I scan the rows of chairs for Ruth Proctor, one of our school’s fourth grade teachers, my former mentor, and now good friend. Ruth always saves me a seat. I finally spy her in the second row and start toward her—only to halt halfway up the aisle as I spot the man slouched comfortably next to Ruth… in what should be my chair.

Wavy hair, sparkling brown eyes. I peer at the stranger who’s usurped my space. He looks flirty, fast and dangerous—the type of man Mama constantly warned Priscilla and me about. The kind of man you can’t take your eyes off. The kind of man women dream about. The kind of man who would never spare me a second look except at the spare tire sitting around my waist. What’s he doing in our stuffy school library, chatting with Ruth? He looks like he belongs on a billboard, or a beach somewhere, playing volleyball with bikini-clad girls.

I head toward the back of the library in search of an empty seat. Maybe he’s a guest speaker at today’s meeting. Strange, Ruth didn’t mention anything about him earlier this morning when we were chatting. She knows everything that goes on at James Bay Elementary. Ruth’s been here twenty years and she’s an excellent teacher. Her Teacher of the Year Award she won years ago proves that. She’s also one of the select few who serve as mentors to new teachers hired each year…

My heart skips a beat. New teacher? Fifth grade?

Could it be? What if…

No
. The gods of the Human Resource Department would never be so generous. I squeeze in between a kindergarten aide and the sour-faced library assistant I normally try to avoid. Who am I kidding? I must be suffering from a drop in blood sugar. The notion that Blond Adonis could be my new colleague is crazy thinking. Maybe I should have grabbed a couple cookies after all.

Five minutes later, Chuck Stevens’ introduction reaffirms my faith in the heavenly powers.

“People, I’d like to introduce Nick Lamont. Nick’s been hired to teach fifth grade at James Bay Elementary this year. Nick, glad to have you on board. Stand up so everybody can see you. People, let’s give Nick a big James Bay welcome.”

Blond Adonis has a name. My hands sting from furious clapping as Nick Lamont slowly comes to his feet with a modest grin and a quick wave for the room.

“How could you hold out on me like that?” I hiss in Ruth’s ear an hour later when a break is finally called. I slip into the seat vacated by Nick moments earlier and give Ruth’s arm a little shake. “You knew about him all this time, didn’t you? And you never said a word.”

“I’m sorry, Patty, but I had to wait until it was official. Nick only signed the contract this morning.”

Brand new school year. Brand new body. Brand new CUTE male teacher in the classroom next to me!

“Quick, tell me everything you know.” I shoot a glance at the door. Ruth needs to talk fast. Breaks never last long, and soon he’ll be back to reclaim his seat. “Where’s he from? How old is he? When did they decide to hire him?” I suck in a quick breath, feel the heat rush through my cheeks at the one question burning through my brain. I’d never dare ask anyone else, but this is Ruth. “Is he married?” I whisper.

She laughs and shakes her head. “No, Patty, no wife. I don’t know much about him, but that much I do know. His application and résumé came in at the last minute. His credentials are perfect. They snapped him right up.”

“I can see why.” With eye candy like Nick Lamont behind the teacher’s desk, any subject—even math—would be a pleasure studying. “I bet he’s an excellent teacher.”

Ruth clears her throat. “I’m sure he’ll do fine.”

I hear the catch in her voice. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She hesitates, one eye on the door. “He doesn’t exactly have much experience.”

I swing my head and catch a glimpse of him as he heads back into the room. Nick doesn’t look like he’s fresh out of college, but more around my own age. He must have at least eight to ten years experience in a classroom.

“How much is not much?” I ask, watching as he heads for the cookies. “Come on, Ruth, you owe me the truth.”

She sighs. “He just finished his student teaching.”

“They hired a first-year teacher?” I stare as Nick samples the coconut macaroons. How could the school board do this to me? I’ve been praying all summer that we’d luck out and snag someone with years of experience, brimming with energy, plus the knowledge and skills to put into team-teaching fifth grade with me. All those prayers and what do I get? A first-year teacher. I’ve never been so disgusted with our school board in my life.

And I don’t care how gorgeous Nick Lamont is. I hope he chokes on those cookies.

“According to Mr. Stevens, Nick comes highly qualified,” Ruth adds. “He has his certification plus a little something extra. Something they were looking for. Nick’s a coach. He’s been hired to coach the high school’s varsity basketball team.”

I slump back in the folding chair. No wonder the school board caved. James Bay is a sports-crazy town and Chuck Stevens’ fanaticism with sports is legendary. Plus, he and the district’s athletic director are chums. Who cares if Nick has no teaching experience? Obviously Mr. Stevens, the athletic department, and the school board are all on the same page and made their decision based on what matters most—the fact our basketball team hasn’t won a district title in years.

“You worry too much, Patty.” Ruth pats my hand. “Once Nick gets accustomed to being in a classroom and nailing down a routine, he’ll be fine. And so will you. I had a nice little chat with him this morning after he signed the contract and I told him all about you.”

Ruth’s crazy if she thinks I’m letting her off so easy. “Exactly what did you say?”

“That you were an excellent teacher and could be a big help to him. Remember your first day teaching? How nervous you were and how I found you crying in the bathroom before the first bell rang? I’ll bet Nick feels just the same.”

Somehow I doubt I’ll ever find Nick Lamont crying in the men’s room—especially since I’m not about to go looking. Plus, Ruth needs glasses. Nick doesn’t look nervous. More like damn sure of himself.

I give him the evil eye as he strolls to where we sit.

“Patty Perreault?” His face lights with interest and he grabs my hand as Ruth introduces us. “Just the person I’ve been wanting to meet.”

I don’t want to like him. I don’t want to be impressed. But I’m fighting a losing battle. Half a room away, Nick was gorgeous. Up close and personal, he’s perfect. Perfect hair, perfect smile. The warm press of his hand on mine sends a surge of adrenaline—pure feminine pleasure—shooting down my spine, straight into my toes. I wiggle them in my new pair of too-tight shoes and curse myself. Betrayed by my own body.

Is the word
scrumptious
on fifth-grade vocabulary tests?

“Nice to meet you. I’m sure we’ll talk later.” Standing, I suck in my stomach and start to brush past Nick.

“Where are you going?”

I nod toward the back of the room and my empty chair. The dour-faced library assistant blows her nose.

“Wait a minute.” Nick grabs my arm. “Not so fast.”

“But…”

His hand tightens on my elbow. “The fifth-grade team should sit together. Take my seat. I’ll grab another chair.”

Even if I wanted to argue, it’s already too late. He places his hands on my shoulders and suddenly I find myself sitting again. I fight down a surge of desire at the touch of skin on skin, of male-female contact. Biology normally isn’t a subject taught in fifth grade. Maybe our curriculum could use some revising. A few seconds later, Nick is back with another chair that he wedges in between us. “Now isn’t that better?” His eyes sparkle.

“Fine,” I whisper.

“Just so you know, I plan on sticking close,” he confides in a low voice. “Ruth told me you’d teach me everything I need to know.”

“She did?” I suck in a deep breath as his knee grazes mine and I try not to stare. God, when did it get so hot in here? Someone should turn on the air conditioner.

“I want things to work out between us.”

“Of course.” I breathe softly, catching a delicious whiff of the cologne he’s wearing. It smells expensive, exotic, exciting. I close my eyes, thinking about being marooned with someone like Nick on a tropical island. You wouldn’t care if you were ever rescued.

“This whole team-teaching thing? Just tell me what to do and you’ve got it. You’re in charge,” he whispers.

I suck in a gulp of air. Nick’s breath is sugary-sweet, like coconut macaroons.

“You okay with that?”

I blink. Is he nuts? How could it not be okay?

“Yes. Absolutely. Whatever you want,” I manage to sputter.

“Great. The two of us need to stick together. And now I’ve met you, I can see that won’t be hard.” He settles back in his chair with an easy smile. “I think the two of us are going to be great friends.”

Chuck Stevens drones on from the podium. Something about lunch tickets and the new reading series. It’s hard to hear over the pounding of my heart.

I chance a peek and catch Nick staring.

At me.

And then he winks.

At me.

God bless the James Bay School Board for hiring Nick Lamont. Maybe he doesn’t have any teaching experience, but he looks like he can handle anything thrown his way… even by a group of rowdy ten-year-olds.

And who knows? Maybe if I’m lucky, Mr. Lamont will teach me a thing or two.

CHAPTER THREE

My hand grazes the pool’s rough surface as I reach the end of the lane.
Finally
. I tug off my swim cap and goggles, grab my towel, and head for the hot tub. A good long soak is just what I need to soothe my weary muscles and wash away the day’s frustrations. Crummy doesn’t even begin to describe it. I should have stayed in bed.

Thunder rumbling in the distance as I hit the alarm should have been my first clue. Breaking the zipper on my favorite pair of shorts was the second. Strike one, hoping to impress Nick. Rain pelted against the window as I finally settled on comfortable jeans, loose black t-shirt, and strappy sandals. Priscilla and I have started giving each other manicures and pedicures. At least my toes will look good if Nick finally showed up at school today.

Breakfast didn’t improve my attitude. Dry toast is dry toast no matter how you slice it. Four ounces of juice chugged over the sink and out the door I went, my gloomy mood following me right down the driveway as I backed into the street. My car brakes have been acting up again. One more thing to add to the growing list of things that need fixing. By the time I finally made it to school, my depression was official—especially when I discovered the classroom next to mine still dark and empty. Exactly the way it’s been all week.