Head Over Heels (8 page)

“I could go for lunch. Where is it?”

“Under the desk. But first you have to finish cleaning up all that glitter. Here comes Jason with the broom.”

“I might have underestimated the magnitude of this project.”

To Marielle's credit, she bowed her head to hide her smile, but he still saw it.

“Do you have to do this again next week?” he said, staring at the devastation.

“The regular teacher will be back, so everything will go back to normal.”

“That's a relief.” He accepted the broom.

Jason picked through scraps of paper on the table, saving the bigger pieces and putting them in a box, and throwing the smaller pieces into the recycle bin, while Colin walked around the room picking up all the cotton balls.

“Doing this makes me appreciate my regular group by tenfold, as the Bible says,” Marielle said as she walked around the room gathering the glue and scissors.

He could certainly understand that.

Russ set to work carefully sweeping up the glitter, and with all four of them working, they were done much more quickly than he'd anticipated.

“Great,” Marielle said. “Now let's go to the youth center room and we can have lunch.” Marielle reached for the coffee thermos, Russ reached for the small cooler, and the boys ran ahead.

Russ walked side by side with Marielle down the empty hallway. He couldn't believe how fast the building had cleared out, but then it was lunchtime, and
he
remembered being anxious to leave the church back in the days of his youth when he'd attended regularly. The only sound beyond their footsteps on the tile floor was the jingle of Marielle's keys as she pulled them out of her purse.

Russ felt comforted to note that the room had been properly secured, even from the inside of the building, when the Sunday school finished with it. Jason and Colin stood aside while Marielle unlocked the door. As was becoming a habit, Russ went straight for his old computer.

“Russ? What are you doing?”

He grinned. “Today is Game Day. I've been known to play an online game or two. Am I allowed?”

She mumbled something about stupid computer games under her breath that he chose to ignore.

“Hey,” he said as he sat down. “My computer is on.”

Marielle's brows crinkled as she joined him. “That's odd. Everyone was told not to touch the computers, and they haven't before. I'll talk to the Sunday school superintendent to remind the teachers that the kids aren't supposed to be allowed near the computers. Unless we forgot to turn it off when we left on Saturday.”

Russ never forgot to power down his computer. Ever.

He rested his hand on the monitor. “It's only slightly warm, meaning it hasn't been on for that long.”

“That's really strange. I thought everyone else besides us left at least half an hour ago.”

“Then the screen saver should have been on. That means that whoever was using it left less than seven minutes ago.”

“I guess we just missed them, then. Let's eat. I think everyone is hungry.”

Russ was hungry, too, but he lingered at the computer while Marielle walked to the rear door that led directly outside and opened it.

They had been making a fair amount of noise while cleaning up and talking among themselves, but he had the impression that the whole church had been deserted for a while. Even the pastor had locked up and was gone. It seemed odd that someone had been in the
building. Both doors to the youth center room had been properly locked. The outer door had a proper dead bolt, but the door leading to the hallway for the rest of the church was a simple indoor lock that could be engaged without a key.

While Marielle removed the sandwiches from her cooler, Russ checked the other computers, first the eight that Grant had donated, and then the two that were the church's originals. All were cold, as they should have been.

He rested his fists on his hips and stared across the room at his old computer. They never had found out who left the disk in the drive, and he suspected the same would hold true of whoever left the computer on today.

One thing was confirmed, though. It was good that he'd chained all the computers together securely through the table. Just because this was a church didn't mean that property was exempt from thievery. Even if it was purely innocent, which it probably was, he still didn't like unauthorized people using the computers without permission.

“Come on, Russ.”

“Sorry. I'll be right there,” he said as he went to join her.

As before, Russ bowed his head while Marielle prayed and answered her “Amen.” Strangely, he couldn't recall ever being so thankful for a simple sandwich. He sat with Marielle at the desk to eat, while the two boys ate beside the computer, something he would never have allowed if he had been in charge.

“Are you expecting any more today? It seems kind of stark, with only two boys in here.”

“A few more will probably come in about half an hour. The number varies. When the weather is nice, fewer come.”

True to Marielle's prediction, four more boys arrived, but no girls.

“I guess the restrictions on the games are okay if they still come. Do you ever play the games with them?”

“Yes, sometimes, but not today.” She glanced quickly from side to side. “Now that the games have begun and we're alone, I have something here for just the two of us. I thought we'd need it after a morning with the preschoolers.”

Russ stared as Marielle pulled a couple of specialty chocolate doughnuts out of her cooler. “I hope you like these. They're my favorite, and I think this is a good time for a good old-fashioned chocolate fix.”

“Thank you. I don't know what to say.”

“I wanted to do something to show you how much I appreciate your help. I couldn't have done it alone.”

“Mmm. This is good,” he said as he nibbled the sweet doughnut. But more than he enjoyed the rich chocolate and thick crème filling, Russ appreciated Marielle's generosity. He knew that she treated her entire group to dinner on Friday nights between the regular after-school meeting and the Friday night don't-get-into-trouble activity sessions. She also appeared to bring lunch every Sunday for anyone who wished to stay. He was impressed with her giving spirit, whether he wanted to be or not.

“This is a real treat, to have six of them all involved
in the same game on different computers. We've never been able to do this before. In the past we allocated each blocks of time based on how many came, in order to be fair. This will do a lot to bring them here during the week, when we are in a learning curve.”

Part of him thought that was good, and he was glad to help, but a deeper part of him wanted to run and hide from the unpleasant memories that being with such a group evoked. Until the accident, he had been comfortable in his routine, and now it was disrupted.

When their time was up, Russ double-checked all the computers to make sure they were off, and waited while Marielle locked up.

During the drive home, he and Marielle laughed at some of the bizarre things the children had done during class time. The trip ended too quickly, and he found himself walking Marielle to her front door, even though it was the middle of the day, just to make the time with her last longer.

“I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then,” he said while she inserted her key in the lock.

“Yes. I've got you for three more weeks, and I plan to take full advantage of you. I heard what the boys were saying about you—you're making quite an impression.”

“I'm just doing my job.” He backed up when the door opened. “Goodbye.” He turned and headed back to his SUV.

As Russ drove home all he could think of was that he
didn't
want to make an impression. He only wanted to teach them what they needed to know, and to super
vise and help them understand computers better. And then his commitment was over.

Three more weeks.

In so many of the things the youths did, he saw echoes of the way he used to be, and the reminder was something he wanted to leave in the past, where it belonged. Three more weeks was too long, but yet at the end of those three weeks, he would have no more reason to see Marielle. The feeling that thought evoked sat badly in the pit of his stomach.

He walked into his house, his stomach still upset. About this same time yesterday, he'd been walking into the restaurant with Marielle, about to spend a very enjoyable evening with her.

But today, it wasn't to be. They'd had their time together. Marielle had made sandwiches for a quick and easy lunch. Today, for supper, he was sitting in a cage of his own making, and he was eating alone.

First he took his package of antacids out of cupboard, and then he began making dinner for one.

M
arielle nearly jumped out of her chair as the youth center room's door banged open. A large crowd of boys filed in, laughing and talking loudly, followed by a second, even larger group. Right behind the second group came a throng of girls, only they were more quiet.

Marielle noted they were earlier than usual, as well.

She pushed away the surge of jealousy that they were coming for Russ, telling herself this was what she wanted to do, to give the teens a place they wanted to be, versus someplace convenient to hang out when there was no place else to go. That they were coming with more enthusiasm and in greater numbers because of Russ meant nothing. The point was that they were coming.

She'd also noticed that instead of gathering in the corners of the room, the girls were congregating at the end of the table opposite Russ. Marielle gritted her teeth. How the girls felt about him was of no concern
to her. He was a mentor and a teacher, and in three weeks, he would be gone.

Three weeks.

Though he was only a temporary apparition, the place would be different without him.

This time, without the distraction of needing to prepare for the Sunday school, Marielle was able to give her full attention to Russ as everyone surrounded him at the computer. When the demonstration was completed and all the teens sat at different computers, he did as he did every day—he walked around checking periodically on everyone, and then spent time talking to Marielle.

This time her hands were free.

“You should be sitting at one of the computers and trying to enhance one of the graphics, like everyone else.”

“I don't mind. This program is for the kids' benefit, not for me.”

“Ah, you called them ‘kids,'” he said, lowering her voice to almost a whisper.

She smiled. “They can't hear me. And I know you won't tell.”

“You might have to bribe me. Got any more of those doughnuts?”

Marielle rolled her eyes. “I think Sal is having a little trouble over there.”

All traces of Russ's gaiety dropped. “You're right. I should have been paying more attention. Excuse me.”

Marielle watched him go.

Excuse me,
he'd said.

He was always so polite, and so…just plain nice.

She didn't want to like him. Michael had been easy
to like, too. And it had nearly been the death of her. She'd given up too much for Michael, including her college education.

She'd felt so worthless when Michael dumped her. Now, at nearly thirty years old, all she had was an office job, no savings and no education. She'd lost the best years of her life, and she would never get them back. Yet, between her job and her volunteer work she felt that she had her life in order—she was happy. She was comfortable just to be herself, she didn't have to care that she wasn't meeting someone's higher standards or expectations. She also was allowed to make mistakes, although she hoped that didn't happen too often.

That was one of the main differences between Michael and Russ. Russ seemed very down-to-earth—a real person. He even had a sense of humor, which a man who worked with a room full of preschoolers armed with glitter and glue sticks definitely needed.

Except he worked obsessively, just like Michael. She was sure Russ hadn't seen that she'd noticed, but a few times she'd watched him press one hand into his stomach in a tense moment, telling her that if he didn't already have an ulcer, he was on the verge of developing one.

When everyone finished their current project, one by one they shut their computers off and went home for supper, until just Marielle and Russ remained.

Surveying the empty room, she said, “I guess this is it for today. Again, thanks for all your help, Russ.”

“That's what I'm here for.” He pressed one hand over his stomach. “It's suppertime. Would you like to join me?”

She wanted to. She really did. But at the same time, it wasn't a good idea.

“I'm sorry. Not this time.” She almost continued on to suggest that maybe another time would be better, but that would have been wrong. Another time
wouldn't
be better because she knew what it could lead to. She liked Russ too much…and she wouldn't go down that road again.

An odd expression crossed his features. “Okay. I'll see you tomorrow, then, for more of the same.”

More of the same.

Marielle didn't know if that was good or bad.

 

Russ refused to let being home with nothing to do day after day get to him.

His house was the cleanest it had ever been. His lawn was so neatly trimmed and the shrubs so shaped to perfection that the neighbors were talking about them. His fence had two brand-new coats of paint. His SUV shone so brightly that it reflected the colors of the rainbow.

Russ was so bored he thought he could scream.

That would really get the neighbors talking.

At precisely two-thirty, Russ checked his hair and left. He arrived at the center fifteen minutes early, just like the day before. And just like the day before, he walked into the church through the main door and headed for Pastor Tom's office.

“Hey, Russ. It's good to see you again.”

“Hey, Tom. It's good to see you, too.” Russ meant it.

Tom looked up at the clock. “I've been meaning to
ask you, how's it going with the youth center? I know sometimes those kids can be a challenge.”

“Don't call them kids. They're not adults, but they're certainly past childhood. They're teenagers.” The second the words came out of his mouth, echoes of Marielle telling him the same thing floated through his consciousness.

Pastor Tom's mouth curved upward good-naturedly. Little crinkles appeared at the corners of his eyes. For the first time, Russ noticed a touch of gray at Tom's temples. That added a bit of wisdom to Tom's friendly appearance. “Sorry. You're right. Are you doing okay with them?”

“They're actually a good group, at least while they're here. Marielle has very specific codes of conduct outlined. They follow them or they aren't allowed back.”

“Those computers your boss donated have made a big difference. I'm not going to belittle Marielle's work and dedication, though. No one has been able to get a handle on that group like she has. I don't know how she did it, but they're very loyal to her.”

Russ thought of the way the group responded to her. The girls definitely looked up to her, and she would be safe in a dark alley with any of the boys nearby.

Russ grinned. “Maybe it's that red stripe in her hair. When we first met, that's the first thing I noticed.”

“I remember when they did that. It was on a Friday night, and everyone who stayed into the evening did something wild with their hair. Even the boys put in colored streaks. It just grew out faster. I couldn't believe she used permanent color.”

That was Marielle. She never did anything halfway.
It was always all or nothing. He actually liked the stripe in her hair, and he thought it suited her. It was bold and dynamic and by no means subtle, just like Marielle. When she wanted something, she went for it and nothing would stop her, no holds barred.

“By the way, Russ, while we're talking about Marielle, do you mind if I ask you something?”

As far as Russ could tell, Tom seemed to be doing all the talking about Marielle. “Go ahead.”

Pastor Tom leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “How's she doing?”

“I'm not sure I understand the question.”

“I don't know if she ever takes a break. She has a full-time job, then she comes here and looks after the youth center until suppertime. Most people would think she has the evenings to relax and do whatever she wants, but it doesn't quite work that way. For the past two weeks she's looked after some of the Sunday school, as well, and once a week she's a volunteer counselor here in the main office. She's been going solid with no break for seven days a week lately.”

A surge of guilt hit Russ as he mentally counted her time on his fingers. Pastor Tom was indeed correct. Marielle started her regular job at six in the morning in order to be at the youth center so early after work. Counting backward, he thought she had to get out of bed before five in the morning to be on time. He worked long hours, too, but not as long as Marielle's combined hours. He at least had time in the evenings to wind down and do what he needed to do before the next day began.

“You're right. Now that you mention it, to get eight
hours' sleep she'd have to be in bed before nine, and I don't think she does that. But I haven't noticed her being overtired or stressed out.” In fact, he'd been far more stressed than she had when trying to deal with the herd of hyperactive preschoolers. She'd taken everything in stride, and even laughed about it, while he'd thought he'd been run over by a truck.

“Good. I just want to make sure she's okay. Sometimes I worry about her working too hard, that she's overdoing things.”

“If I understand what you're asking me, I can make sure she takes some time for herself to wind down. I'm off work for a couple more weeks, so I'm in a forced relaxation mode, and I need something to do. Helping Marielle so she doesn't do everything herself sounds like a good idea.” Focusing on something besides his four walls would go a long way to helping him keep his own sanity, as well.

“Great. Now let's get that room open for you.”

The halls were empty as they walked toward the youth center room. “By the way,” Russ asked, “does anyone else have a key for that room?”

“Yes. Every one of our church elders has keys for all the rooms. Why do you ask?”

Russ had been hoping for an easy solution, but it was not to be. “It's just that someone was using one of the computers and left it on.”

“I'll mention it at the next board meeting.”

The pastor opened the inside door of the youth center room at the same time that the outside door opened.

“Hey, Marielle.”

She jumped at the sound of his voice, which caused her to nearly drop a bag she was carrying. Her purse slipped out from under her arm, and she fumbled with the bag to prevent her purse from falling to the floor. Once she recovered the bag and the purse, she stood, clutching both to her chest, and around her legs, her flowing skirt swished in the breeze from the open door. She looked so disheveled, he wanted to help her even though she now had everything under control. She stood staring wide-eyed at them from across the room.

“Don't do that! You guys startled me.”

“You're earlier than usual.” Russ gulped, trying to push the thought that he had actually wanted her to ask for his help out of his mind.

“Traffic was really good,” she said as she removed a stack of disks from her purse, then locked her purse in the desk drawer.

“I'll be going now,” said Pastor Tom from behind Russ. “It's not a good idea for this group to see the pastor in here. Too much religious influence. I'll probably see you tomorrow.”

Russ nodded at Pastor Tom as he left, then turned to Marielle just as she knocked over the pile of disks. In a few strides, he was at her side, helping her restack them. “That's quite a pile you've got there. Why are you here so early?” Not that fifteen minutes was that early, but he knew where she was coming from and what time she got off work.

“My boss let me leave early. I have a feeling she's got a project in mind for some of the youth group, and of course we don't charge, so she saves paying the overtime
for what it would cost someone else to do it. We do each other favors that way. But this is something different. I got an idea last night after I got home. I brought some clip art and images for everyone to start on a brochure for the church's Valentine's Day banquet.”

“But that's months away.”

“Then we'll have lots of time.”

He frowned. “I hate to start a project then walk away in the middle of it.”

“That can't be helped. I wanted to start this now, while there's professional help available.”

The words were out of his mouth before he had a chance to think about what he was offering. “Then I'll come back a few times when you're close to done, in case anyone needs extra help.”

“Really?” she asked. Russ tried not to feel stung by the obvious surprise showing in her expression. “That's so nice of you. That would be wonderful!”

“Yeah, well—”

A male voice cut off Russ's reply. “Hey! Russ! Marielle!”

Russ turned around to see Jason and Colin walking through the door. “Does no one ever say ‘hello' anymore? Since when did ‘hey' become a salutation?”

“You do it all the time.” Marielle paused while one corner of her mouth tipped up. “I've heard you. You did it just today.”

Russ thought back to his earlier greeting, and she was right. The group was rubbing off on him, telling him what he feared was coming true. He had begun the
downward spiral. It was so subtle he hadn't noticed, but it had started.

He straightened his posture, and one hand rose to his neck, except here, he wasn't wearing a tie to fiddle with the knot. He dropped both hands to his sides, then rammed his hands into his pockets.

“It won't happen again,” he grumbled, then spun on his heels and strode to his computer, turned it on and waited for it to boot up.

The group assembled quickly. He ran through as much as he thought they could retain in one session, then sent them to do the assignments he'd prepared.

This time, instead of talking to Marielle, he remained seated, except he found himself staring at the inactive screen because he was without a project to work on.

Marielle's voice drifted from over his shoulder. “Have you noticed that not only are all the computers filled today, there's at least two sharing at every station? We had a lot come last time, but today there are even more. I don't think I've ever seen this many. I've decided to make a change in the structure of what I'm doing. I brought doughnuts for everyone, and I need you to stop everyone in the middle of what they're doing so we can take a break and eat, and then I'll send them back.”