Mr. Wonderful (3 page)

I don’t know why I let her give me so much advice. She was actually five years younger than me. But at twenty-two, she’d been married and divorced, so that gave her some seniority over me--at least that was her excuse. Even though I was twenty-seven, I’d never been married, not even engaged. But I did have a good job as a kindergarten teacher. That was another thing that drove Sophie wild.

“How can you ever meet anyone being a kindergarten teacher?” she often asked me. “It’s got to be the worst possible place in the world.”

“I’m not a teacher in order to meet anybody,” I’d reply. I shouldn’t have to explain it. I loved teaching. I especially loved kindergarten. Every fall when those little kids got off the bus on the first morning of school, so full of curiosity and innocence, I knew I was in the right field. I’d explained that to Sophie over and over, but it just went in one ear and out the other.

Still, we were the best of friends. It always amazed our parents, because growing up we had no use for each other at all. She was a spoiled little kid, as far as I was concerned, and by the time she was a teenager, I had gone away to college. But I was in her wedding when she married Jake, and I was her shoulder to cry on during the divorce. It was painful for me too. It hurt me to see her suffer. I should be grateful she’d bounced back and was in full form husband-hunting. Not just for me, but for herself as well.

Fortunately for Sophie, she was able to put it all behind her, and now she seemed to lead the charmed life of a swinging single.

“Look at this place.” She threw up her hands dramatically, and looked around the cottage I rented in the suburbs. It was convenient to my school, but as she reminded me, not to much else.

“What’s wrong with it?” I asked. We stood in the middle of my living room. A chintz sofa was along one wall, with my cat Ginger curled up on it. Braid rugs lay on the wide planked floor, a leather reclining chair was by the fireplace, and my antique oak roll-top desk stood in the corner.

“It’s like you,” she stated, “old fashioned, even frumpy.”

I guess I could have taken offence at her assessment of my taste. But I figure one person’s frumpy is another person’s cozy. Sisters are the only ones who can get away with saying things like that. I liked the room the way it was. If it was old fashioned and frumpy, it was comfortable and it suited me. But I did let Sophie talk me into getting some new clothes for school that fall, and that very day we headed for the shopping center.

We had a great time shopping. Sophie would flip through the racks of clothes like an expert and pull out skirts and pants, tops and dresses. While I stayed in the dressing room, she’d shuttle back and forth with the same dress in two sizes just to be sure one would fit. We got hysterical with laughter as I tried on a red linen suit that hung on me like a tablecloth.

“Perfect for the holidays,” she hooted. “Especially with a garnish of mashed potatoes around the edges.” The saleswoman did not appreciate her attempt at humor and glared at her purposefully. I admitted I could probably stop traffic in that suit, but did I really want to? We found some nice things too, like a pale peach dress with a long jacket in a soft knit fabric. The outfit seemed to bring a glow to my face.

Something to wear to Open House
, I thought. That was the first event of the school year when I’d meet the parents of my little cherubs.

We stopped at the chocolate-chip cookie counter in the mall, and I was trying to decide between milk chocolate and semisweet, when I felt a tug at my denim skirt. I looked down and the face of one of my former kindergartners looked up at me shyly.

“Hi, Shauna,” I said, stooping down to give her a hug. She was one of my favorites, shy and sweet and very proud of knowing how to print her name. I looked up to see who was with her. I was fond of her mother, Susan O’Donnell. But it wasn’t Susan who was towering above me in the cookie line, but a rugged-looking man who would have been more at home logging trees than in a suburban shopping center. A glance at my sister told me she was in danger of losing her place in line if she didn’t stop staring at this rugged, outdoorsy stranger.

I finally got to my feet, and feeling Shauna’s hand reach for mine, I felt I ought to explain.

“I’m Shauna’s teacher. I mean l was in her kindergarten, as her teacher I mean,” I stammered nervously. As if as a kindergarten teacher I was unaccustomed to conversing with adults, especially adults who oozed  masculinity.

“You must be the Miss Kissinger I’ve been hearing, so much about,” he said, neglecting to tell me who he was which just made me more curious.

Out of the corner of my eye. I saw my sister buying enough cookies for an army, so I stepped back and let some other people get ahead of me. I wanted to know who he was. Suddenly Shauna solved the problem for me.

“Uncle Steve,” she said, “can we get the balloon now?”

“Not until we get the present for your mother. Then we’ll get the balloon,” he replied.

I saw my sister pretending interest in the window of a shoe store. I would have thought she’d been hanging around like glue with a man who looked like this in the vicinity.

With a pained expression on his face, Steve said to me, “Shopping centers are not my favorite places. I’m only here under pressure.”

I must have looked surprised, because he smiled a very disarming smile and explained. “It’s my sister-in-law’s birthday today, and I’m stuck without a present. We’re having a family party tonight, and I can’t show up without one. I just don’t know where to go or what to get.”

Later, Sophie marveled that I’d had the sense to offer to help him. But I did. After I told her I’d meet her back at the cookie counter in a half hour, I guided Steve to the arts and crafts shop where I helped him pick out a wicker basket lined with a homespun fabric.1 told him I knew his sister-in-law rather well. Susan was on the parent council, and I’d had lots of conversations with her, so I knew she’d like the basket. What I didn’t know about her was that she had a handsome brother-in-law. What I wanted to know was why didn’t he bring his wife along to help shop. Or was it possible someone who looked like him and was good with kids was not married?

In half an hour we’d bought the basket, had it gift wrapped, gotten Shauna her balloon, and exchanged some information about ourselves. The reason Steve looked like a woodsman was because he was one, sort of. He lived in a small town several hundred miles north of here in the redwoods and he made furniture—not out of redwood, but out of pine. He’d been at his brother’s house the last few weeks selling it to stores. This was the first time he’d tried to sell to an urban market, and he said with pride that the pine tables were selling like hotcakes. I didn’t find out much about his personal life, though.

“Didn’t you even find out if he was married?” my sister asked on the way home in the car.

“How could I?” I didn’t know how to find out tactfully if someone was married.

“Did you check to see if he had a ring? she asked.

“I never thought of it,” I had to admit.

Back at my house, I fed the cat while my sister continued thinking out loud.

“One good thing, why would he ask you to help pick out the present if he had a wife? Wives always pick out the presents.” She spoke as a former wife.

“How come you disappeared, if you’re so interested?” I’d almost forgotten to ask her that.

“I’m basically unselfish.” Her eyes were wide and innocent. “I may be wrong,” she continued, “but there was something in that woodworker’s eyes—”

“Steve’s eyes,” I cut in. “Go on about what was in his eyes.”

“There was something special about the way he looked at you, I’m sure of it,” she said. “I’m a student of interpersonal relations, you know.”

I wondered if she could be right. I could only hope so.

Chopping vegetables together for the Chinese dinner I’d promised to make her ever since I’d started my class, we talked more about men. For once I paid close attention. Just as I’d heated up the wok to begin stir frying, the phone rang.

“Kristin?” asked a breathless voice. I recognized it as belonging to Susan O’Donnell. She was probably going to thank me for my part in picking out the basket. But she hadn’t even opened her presents yet. “I can’t talk,” she began. “We’re right in the middle of things, and my whole family’s here.”

“I hear it’s your birthday,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“My brother-in-law’s been talking about you.” Her voice was charged with excitement. It must have been contagious, because I started to get excited too. Calm down, I told myself. Sure he’s been talking about you. He’s grateful for your help today, that’s all.

My sister had turned off the wok and was listening with rapt attention, her eyes as big as saucers.

“Are you free tomorrow?” Susan asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. “I’m trying to arrange something without his knowing. He’ll kill me if he finds out. We’re going hiking tomorrow up to Rider Ridge. Oops, I have to go now. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

She hung up.

My sister was burning with curiosity, and I was a little bit curious myself, but there wasn’t much to tell. She didn’t see it that way. Between Steve asking about me and Susan getting so excited about it, it must mean something, was Sophie’s opinion.

I tried not to think about it too much, but Steve was an intriguing man. Even though he said he hated shopping, he had seemed to be having a good time. And I could see that Shauna adored him. I knew from my years in the classroom that children are good judges of character.

All, this was going through my head as I tossed and turned that night.
But what should I do? How could 1just appear along Rider Ridge in my hiking clothes as if I hadn’t known that the O’Donnells were going hiking?
I thought Steve O’Donnell would see right through any scheming, that’s why Susan had to arrange things without his knowing.

It was Susan who came up with the plan. When she called the next morning, she had it all thought out. They were to shop at the supermarket to pick up food for a picnic on their way to the Ridge. I was to be there doing my shopping when they stopped, and what could be more natural than to suggest that I go with them? My instincts were not to set a trap because I thought it best to be honest about myself and other people, but I got carried away. I got into running clothes just to look as if I had something to do. Running shoes would be fine for hiking. I just had time to let the cat out and jump into my car to get to the market by ten o’clock. I didn’t have time to phone my sister, and I thought it was just as well. She’d get carried away and try to give me advice.

Nervously I walked into the store. I went up and down the aisles, but didn’t see the O’Donnells. I walked slowly through the produce section, examining the lettuce and cucumbers with exaggerated care. I started filling a bag with apples, when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

I turned, my heart thudding, and looked into those dark eyes set in the tanned, outdoors face.

“Can I help you with your shopping today?” he asked. His eyes took in my empty cart, the bag half filled with apples, my flushed face, and the running suit. What did he think?

Just then Susan and Shauna came up the aisle; saving me from saying anything.

“Kristin, it’s so good to see you,” Susan said. “Shauna, look who’s here.” She looked over at Steve. “Have you two met? Kristin, this is my brother-in-law, Steve, who’s staying with us. Steve, I’m sure Shauna’s told you all about her teacher, Miss Kissinger.”

“This is the lady who helped me pick out your present, Sue,” he told her. “The least we can do is to invite her to our picnic. She’s already got some apples to bring along.”

I tried not to look at Susan. I just murmured, “I’d love to go.”

I followed them in my car to the beginning of the trail. It was a lovely walk along a ridge with views over the hills on both sides. I walked with Susan at first, with Shauna and her father and uncle running on ahead. She briefly told me her brother-in-law’s story.

Steve O’Donnell had married right out of college and settled in the small lumber town in the north where he still lived. He loved the outdoors and so did his wife, he thought. It turned out she didn’t want to live in the middle of the great beyond without neighbors or a shopping mall. Steve had taught shop at the high school, which is what led him to making furniture now. She had felt isolated and unhappy, while he settled easily into life there. It didn’t take her long to decide to leave for brighter lights, and she’d made a new life for herself long ago.

“Steve vowed he’d never bring another woman up there,” Susan confided. “And there really isn’t anyone in that town that’s good enough for him.” She smiled. “That’s my opinion anyway. Steve’s a big part of our family. I knew there would be somebody special for him someday, even though he’s warned me not to fix him up with anybody. That’s why I’ve been so sneaky about this. I was just thrilled when he asked a few questions about you last night. It’s not like him at all.” With that she gave an excited hop along the trail, the kind of thing I would have expected more from her daughter than from her., She took off ahead of me on the trail to catch up with the others. I don’t know what she said when she reached them, but in a few minutes Steve was coming back toward me with a look on his face that made my heart race a little faster.

I knew from reading advice columnists that you’re supposed to get men to talk about themselves, but Steve must have read the same articles for men, because he got me to talk about myself. I told him about teaching and how I felt every fall at the beginning of the school year. I couldn’t have imagined that he’d be interested in my ideas about teaching, but he asked all the right questions, so I talked on and on until we came to the picnic spot.

The others had already spread out the cloth and piles of different meats and cheeses and salads were arranged with a Thermos of lemonade. Shauna’s face was shining with pride at having come so far on a hike, and her mouth was full of grapes. Susan gave me a look that said more than words how happy she was, and I smiled back at her. Kevin O’Donnell looked at his brother in surprise.