Her Imaginary Husband (Contemporary Romance) (9 page)

Nikki’s gut tightened. “Oh.”

He pulled his feet in and leaned an elbow on his desk. “Do you know what happens when we don’t win enough games?”

“Uh…” Nikki forced a smile that faded quickly. “You don’t get to—”

“They start looking for someone to blame. And it’s always me.” He slapped his chest in the gorilla move she’d anticipated earlier, but it wasn’t funny now. “People can joke all they want to about how cushy a P.E. teacher’s job is, but when you’re a coach, you’re expected to have a winning team. A
really
winning team. If not, they ship you out.”

“Oh.”

“And do you think they’ll get anyone in here who cares about these kids as much as I do?” The veins in his neck bulged even as the rims of his eyes reddened.

Nikki’s mouth went dry. “Is this about Dav—”

“You bet it’s about Pembroke. I need him.” He pointed out to the gym as if David stood there. “
He
needs
me
. He has no successes in this school. I’m it. I give him a chance to shine, to believe in himself, to build a work ethic. I am the one who is helping him accomplish something.”

“But they’re just games.”

“They’re not just games!” He stood, and his energy frightened her. “They live in this little microcosm of high school, and for some of these kids, this will be the best time of their lives.”

“Isn’t it supposed to be?”

He took a step closer. “Isn’t it—Do you hear yourself? What kind of life is that, if high school is the best? They graduate at eighteen to…what? Everything downhill from there?”

Nikki stared at the floor with watery eyes of her own. “You’re right.”

His voice softened. “I don’t want that for them. I want…” He ran his hands through his hair, pulling his skin tight before squishing his cheeks together. “I want them to believe in themselves. They don’t have to believe they’re brilliant.” He reached forward, gentle now, taking her hand. “I just want them to know they can work together and do something great. If David can’t play…He…”

“They wouldn’t really fire you. Surely, you can still win games without…” She faltered, realizing he still held her hand.

He saw this, too, and dropped it. Shrugging, he turned away. “I understand we may seem like lowly football players to you, but—”

She grabbed his arm. “No, Will. I’m sorry. I know this isn’t about your job. I…I just really don’t know how to help him. An IEP only does so much.” She squeezed harder before letting go. “Help me help David?”

Will turned back to face her, all the rage gone. For a moment, Nikki saw a man who wanted to make a difference, who needed an ally. A smile played at the corner of his mouth. “Thanks. I’ll…I’ll think of something. Can you just slip him through one more week? Even a C-minus?”

“Well, he’s close to that. Get with me during lunch tomorrow. We’ll come up with some plans.”



“So, it turns out he’s not a total jerk.” Nikki propped her iPad against the fruit bowl and pulled out the cutting board. FaceTiming with Charlie always made cooking for one less depressing.

“Which one? Mr. Pecs?”

Nikki laughed. “Stop calling him that. Coach Carlin. Will.” She waved a knife at the screen. “Be nice.”

“What did he do?” Charlie, as usual, was eating take-out. This time, he had Chinese, and kept fumbling with the chopsticks.

“He’s helping me tutor a kid after school twice a week.”

“Uh-huh.” Charlie’s eyes twinkled as a noodle slithered into his pursed lips. “How gallant of him.”

Nikki brandished a tomato at him. “It’s not like that, Charlie.”

“Stop threatening me with kitchen utensils and stuff. Are you making salsa?”

“Yeah.” She chopped with expert speed. “Charlie, eat your noodles and tell me if I should ’fess up to not being married yet.”

He tapped a chopstick to his temple as if in deep thought. “Hmmm. Should you tell the truth?” Stuffing a wonton into his mouth, he said, “Can you live the lie? That’s not like you, Nik. I thought you’d already told him.”

“I know.” She slumped against the counter and sorted through the pile of tomatoes. “I keep trying, but I stink at it, and I feel bad about it every day.”

“There’s your answer, little sister. It’s time to grow up and beat the men off with a stick instead of a lie.” His hands came up defensively. “And don’t throw a tomato at me.”

Nikki made a show of preparing to pitch the tomato at the screen, but pulled up close at the last minute and kissed the screen. “Can I count on you to come down here and protect my honor if the need arises?”

“With all the vegetables in my artillery.” He laughed. “I’ve got to go now. Believe it or not, I have a date.”

Nikki flashed him a knowing look. “A serious one?”

“Let’s say potentially serious. I’m trying to read her right. I want to make sure she’s not one of those girls who play little head games to manipulate men.” Charlie’s face grew stern. “Men hate that, Nik. Don’t ever be that way.”

She swallowed. “Right.”

“Be straight up, Nik. It’s who you are. The right guy will love you for it, and in the meantime, no hurry.”

“Tell Mom that.”

Charlie gave a wry smile. “You can lie to her. It’s the only way to survive.” He winked. “Bye! Save me a jar of salsa.”

“I will.”

“Put cilantro in mine.”

“I won’t.” Nikki blew a kiss and ended the session with a swipe of her knuckle because her fingers were wet. “All right. Straight up.” She resumed chopping. “Straight up, Will Carlin. I’ll tell you the truth, but if you try anything…” She chopped faster.

“Okay, report.” Gayle sat in a student desk in front of Nikki.

Nikki glanced at Robert and Sammi studying in the middle of the room. “Report on…?”

“I’m supposed to be mentoring you, Nikki. Tell me what you’ve been doing, and I’ll tell you how to do it better.” She winked.

“Well, I guess it’s all going well. The kids seem to like me okay for the most part.” She winked at Sammi who held two enthusiastic thumbs up. “I’m getting to know some more of the staff. I even subbed during my prep period yesterday!” She pumped her fist in the air. “See how on-top-of-it I am? I had extra time!”

“Unreal,” said Gayle with a smile. “Who’d you sub for?”

“I just took one of Ms. Nyman’s U.S. History classes while she had some kind of conference with the superintendent.”

“Nyman, the inflatable woman?” She lowered her voice. “That woman is always in ‘conference’ with the super.”

Unsure of what she meant but guessing quite accurately, Nikki continued, “Yeah, it was easy because it overlapped with the stuff I was teaching in American Lit anyway.”

“Excellent,” said Gayle. “Good to build that teamwork feel—” The door banged open, and she muttered, “Speak of the devil.”

“Miss Fallon,” said an artificially colored blonde. “I need a word with you.”

Nikki swallowed hard and looked with wide eyes at the scowling human Barbie. “Yes? Is something wrong?”

“Did I, or did I not leave a very simple lesson plan for you to follow?”

“Uh…”

“I did!” said Ms. Nyman, pointing an absurdly long fingernail at Nikki. “It was called,
Play the video about the Declaration of Independence
. Period. End of show. Easy.”

Robert and Sammi squirmed in the background, and Gayle covered her mouth with a loose fist.

“Ah, yes… About that,” said Nikki. “The DVD was missing.”

“What? I left it right there in the player,” said Ms. Nyman. “It was right there. All you had to do was play it and sit back and grade papers or something. My students tell me you led them in some kind of discussion.”

“Yes, well, in the absence of the DVD, I figured we had to do
something
, so I—”

“It was right there!”

“Settle down,” said Gayle.

Ms. Nyman ignored her and glared at Nikki.

Nikki, on the other hand, took a deep breath and calmed her voice. “I looked in the player, all over the AV cart, all over your desk, and all over your shelves. No DVD. I’m very sorry.”

“Impossible.”

Gayle raised a finger. “Any chance one of the kids saw a sub coming and hid it? You know, thinking they’d get out of a lesson.” Behind her, Robert and Sammi nodded vigorously.

Nikki shrugged at the idea. “Could be. But I didn’t let them off the hook. We talked—”

“I have never seen anyone so irresponsible in all my life. You completely disrupted my lesson plans for today by taking over an unqualified discussion that
I
was supposed to do
today!
”

“Can’t you just show the DVD today?” offered Gayle. Ms. Nyman’s response was another string of insults.

Nikki, however, had closed her eyes and fists in an effort to contain her indignation. Gayle was about to speak again when Nikki looked up. “Let’s pretend for a moment that I am not an idiot, and that you are not a witch—despite all evidence to the contrary right now.” Robert and Sammi gasped as she continued. “I did not see the DVD. I acted as quickly and professionally as I could, and I did, in fact, have a very lively lesson with the kids about the Declaration. You see, I graduated with highest honors in
both
English
and
history, so I
am
qualified.”

Ms. Nyman gaped, and Robert suppressed a laugh badly.

“I’m truly sorry that I messed up your lesson plans,” said Nikki. “But rest assured that I won’t trouble you again. You can get someone else to cover for you while you visit the superintendent next time.”

Robert broke into a coughing fit and lurched for the door. Gayle covered her face with both hands, her ears shining red on either side. Ms. Nyman shuddered with silent rage and stormed out.

Gayle collapsed backwards exhaling as if she’d held her breath throughout the entire exchange. “I don’t know how you just kept yourself from using stronger language. ‘Witch’ was too kind.”

“Well, given that I’d just prayed for help restraining myself…”

Gayle wiped the corner of her eyes. “That’s a powerful deity you have there,” she smiled. “Hey, it’s okay.” She stood and put a consoling hand on Nikki’s shoulder. “That woman throws a tirade like that at least once a week. You’re the first one who cut her back down. Good for you.”

“So much for faculty spirit,” Nikki said grimly.

“Go take a breather outside. You’ve got several minutes before the bell.”

“Good idea,” said Nikki, standing to go. “I appreciate you so much, Gayle.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” said Gayle.

Nikki smiled weakly and headed towards the back door where the least student traffic buzzed. Outside, she sat heavily on the top step and buried her eyes in her knuckles.

“What? No hello?”

“Hello, Officer,” said Nikki without looking up. “Any homicides today?”

“Nope. It’s been slow.”

“It may pick up. If you find a beautiful blonde stuffed into the back dumpster, you might want to run my prints.”

Ross sat beside her, resting his elbows on his knees. “Student, or staff?”

“Staff,” she said, running the back of her hand across her nose.

“Not my jurisdiction.”

Nikki stared at him. “What? How is that not your job?”

He didn’t move, but held her gaze for a long moment. Finally, he cleared his throat. “You’re kind of gullible, aren’t you?”

“Gaaah!” She back-handed him on his arm, and his wide grin returned.

“I’m going to guess it was either Nyman or Lingsley.”

“I don’t know Lingsley.”

“Ah,” he said, slapping his hands together as if cleaning them of dust. “Well, if it’s Nyman, I’ll help you dispose of the body. I’ve got some cement blocks in my car.”

Nikki’s eyes brimmed with tears, yet she laughed. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

The warning bell sounded, and Ross stood up. “Come on. School’s starting in five minutes. Knock ’em dead.” He took her hand and helped her to her feet. “Well, not literally, of course.”

“Can I bruise ’em up a bit?”

“Internal injuries only. Internal injuries.” He opened the door and shooed her in.



“I’m warning you guys before we even start—I’m having a bad hair day.”

“You are, kinda, aren’t you?” said Sammi with a sympathetic wink. “Some gel could probably hold that down.”

Nikki blinked slowly.
Nice cover.
Sammi was, after all, the best student in the class. “Thank you, Sammi. And as such, I’m in no mood to deal with anyone stepping out of line. Don’t cross me today, okay?”

The students exchanged curious glances and nodded general assent.

“Yes, ma’am,” said Robert, a little too brightly. Sammi shot him a warning look. “What?” he asked loudly. “I’m
agreeing
with her.”

“Do it quietly,” said Nikki.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said in a stage whisper. The class chuckled. Robert was not usually the clown. Nikki opened her mouth to speak, but Robert asked, “Did your cat die or something?”

Nikki stared at him. “What?”
Robert, you know very well why I’m upset.

“Well, it seems like it takes a lot to make you grumpy, so I figured something really bad had happened.”

Nikki didn’t want to tell him she’d dropped an earring down the drain, spilled cereal on her blouse, tripped coming up the stairs of the school
again
, received notice of yet another activity stealing class time, and on the way to the water fountain had slipped and tweaked her ankle enough to hate her high heels forever. And all that was before the encounter with Nyman.

“Drop it, Robert.”

“Dropping it,” he said stiffly.

She signaled for him to go and take roll while she passed a stack of handouts to the kid in the front row. “So, what with standardized tests cutting into teaching time, you’re going to have to work double time over the weekend to get this next essay done.”

“But I had plans!” whined Robert.

Sammi pinched him across the aisle. “What is the matter with you? Just take roll and shut up.”

A few of the more popular kids jeered, and Robert made a show of looking away from them. “What? Oh, I don’t see you there. I guess you’re not here.” He pretended to mark them absent.

“Better not,” growled a boy to his right.

“Robert. Just take roll and shut up,” said Nikki, amazed that she had to rein him in.

He looked up at her with a serious face. “Not very polite, Ms. F. We don’t use that kind of language here.”

Nikki stepped closer to him. “Make it stop, Robert.”

He bent over the roll sheets, quickly marking the totals at the bottom. “As you command, your glorious Highness.” He bowed and handed her the stack. She took them and whacked them over the top of his head. He raised his hand in surrender. “Help, help!”

“Go find Mr. Geoffreys for help, Robert.”

“What?” His playfulness vanished.

“I’m done with your game now. Go. To the office.”

“But…”

“Enough already. Good-bye.”

The room grew stiflingly quiet as Robert gathered his backpack and headed through the door. Too late, Nikki realized she should have had him post the attendance on his way out. She stomped down the aisle of chairs and clipped the papers to the hook, looking after Robert as he rounded the corner of the hall. She took a deep breath.
What, no Officer Ross to catch me being stupid and make some funny remark?
She looked around.
Not today. Dang it.
She went back into the room, and the class got to the task of outlining their essays.

Half an hour later, Nikki looked up with frustration to see Mr. Geoffreys entering with Robert trailing behind. Plastering a business-like smile on her face, she asked, “Can I help you, sir?”

“Yes,” he said slowly. “I’m a little perplexed.”

“What seems to be the trouble?” she asked, her eyes flicking to Robert, who stared at the floor.

“Well, I typically have the kids fill out a form to explain why they think they’ve been sent to me. Robert’s reason is a little…unusual.” He glanced at a paper in his hand and read, “Ms. F is having a bad hair day and someone turned off her sense of humor.” He looked at Nikki skeptically. “Is that right?”

Nikki looked at Robert. He looked back with sad puppy dog eyes and a twitch of mischief at the corner of his mouth.
He was just trying to lighten my mood after the Nyman thing—the little pest
. Suddenly, all of the tension of Nikki’s morning escaped in the form of one large laugh. “Yes, sir. That’s
exactly
why Robert was sent to the office.”

“Huh?”

“Between bad hair and bad jokes, I’m the worst offender for the day.”

Mr. Geoffreys squinted with confusion. “So…?”

Nikki waved Robert to come closer. He approached with a sheepish smirk, and she messed his hair up. “There. Now we’re even. Thank you, Mr. Geoffreys. It’s all good now.”



That afternoon, Nikki slipped into the corner of the manly-man part of the gym where all the strutters lifted massive weights twice and spent the rest of the time talking about protein shakes and grunting at each other. The music blasted loudly enough that no one would hear her work the punching bag, and the leg press that hid her from view was still out of order.

She wound the cloth tape around her knuckles, adjusting the tightness and surveying the other occupants of the room. Jim was in his sixties with about two percent body fat. As far as Nikki could tell, he lived at the gym, and he could out perform any young buck in the place, even though he was a head shorter.
He’s safe. His wife is probably taking Zumba Gold right now.
There was a pair of guys from the Trench basketball team according to their t-shirts. They took turns doing ridiculously difficult variations on a pull-up. Nikki knew she had seen Jim do the same moves before many times, and it made her smile. One of the guys caught the smile and instantly upped his swag.

Oh great. He thinks I was checking him out, and now he’s checking me out.
She decided to start punching. Jab, cross, hook, cross, upper cut, upper cut, slide back roundhouse kick. After a few repetitions, she ventured a glance at the roosters. They were, indeed, watching her—one with horror, and one with amusement. She upped the intensity, dedicating each new round to a source of annoyance.
This one’s for Nyman. This one’s for Mom. This one’s for all those years of Flip-Flop Man. This one’s for all those years without Craig.
She stopped, breathing hard, and rested her forearm on the bag. Sweat mingled with tears.
I’m tired of being alone, but it’s better to be alone than to be with the wrong person.