The Teacher (6 page)

Chapter
Six

Emma huddled on the couch next to Seth.
He held her hand while she called the police and reported the attempted crime.
The officer she spoke with said the department would look into it, but didn’t
offer any reassurance that they’d catch the guy. Next, Seth ran her a warm bath
and simmered a pot of tomato soup for their dinner. Emma’s appetite for Chinese
food had vanished.

After a few requisite slurps, Emma set
her bowl on the coffee table.

Seth finished off his bowl and set it
next to Emma’s. “Promise me something?” he asked, throwing an arm over her
shoulder and pulling her closer to him. Emma let her head relax onto his chest.

“What?”

“That you won’t walk home from school in
the dark again.”

“Don’t worry. I think I’ve learned my
lesson. And having to sit on a donut for the next two weeks will be my constant
reminder.” They both laughed, which felt good for a moment as it relieved some
of her pent up tension, but then it hurt. Her fall onto the sidewalk jarred her
insides and left invisible bruises.

She ran through the attack a hundred
times since coming home. A list of what ifs had taken form as she imagined all
the other possible outcomes of the evening. What if the guy had a weapon, what
if she’d hit her head on the pavement and blacked out or what if there had been
more than one guy? She chastised herself again and again for her stupidity to
walk alone in the dark. If Mr. Lewis hadn’t driven up when he did she could
have suffered a much worse fate.

Seth picked up the remote and flipped on
the TV. Emma pulled the soft cream-colored throw from the back of the couch and
tucked it around her legs. She settled in again with her head on Seth and he
drew his other arm around in front, holding her.

She sighed deeply, reveling in how good
it felt to be wrapped in someone’s arms. With Seth’s strong arms around her she
felt safe, protected. Thank goodness he was here tonight. If she was alone, she
would probably go into hysterics. Emma closed her eyes, thinking about how she
wanted to stay right here with Seth protecting her forever.

The alarm buzzed and Emma awoke with a
start trying to remember how she got into her bed. She sat up and a deep pain
shot down her back before settling at the bottom of her vertebrae. The pain
reminded her of the attack from the night before and then of Seth holding her
in his arms. Seth resonated in the back of her mind and the dream she awakened
from came flooding back.

She was at her parents’ house in Orchard
Creek with Seth and two little boys. Audrey, Finn and her nieces were there
too. They were posing for a family picture with her parents in the center
flanked by Audrey’s beautiful family and Emma’s. In her dream, Seth was her
husband and the two little boys were their sons. Emma shook the thought out of
her mind—it was a just a dream.

Her fantasy slowly abandoned her mind as
she padded down the hallway to the bathroom. Swinging the door open, she was
overcome with steam and the fresh smell of aftershave. Seth was at the sink, a
towel wrapped around his waist. A small circle was rubbed out of the middle of
the steamed up mirror. The sight of his half-naked body, with his broad shoulders
and sculpted muscles, brought all of her fantastic wishes back. There might not
be much chemistry between the two of them, okay there was none, but Emma
thought she could give up some of the passion for the pleasure of waking up next
to a man as gorgeous as Seth.

She backed out of the door mumbling an
embarrassed sorry.

“Don’t worry about it,” Seth called.
“I’ll be out in a minute, and then it’s all yours.”

Emma went to the kitchen where she
poured herself a cup of coffee and doctored it with organic cream and natural
sugar. How could she have forgotten Seth was here this morning? She’d just been
thinking about him. Mortified, Emma sat at the table and sipped her steaming coffee.
The door to the bathroom opened and then Seth’s door closed. Emma pulled her
legs up into the chair and wrapped her hands around the mug warding off some of
the morning chill.

“How are you doing?” Seth asked as he
walked in, wearing his suit and tie. He glanced at her over his shoulder as he
stood at the coffee pot and filled his commuter cup.

“I’m good,” she said, taking another sip
from her own mug.

“You gonna be okay today? I could call a
cab for you this morning.”

“No, I’ll be fine. The sun’s almost up
and there will be plenty of traffic by the time I walk to school today. Thanks,
though.”

“You sure?” he asked, walking over and
kissing her on top of the head, just like Emma had seen her own father do a
million times to her mother before he went off to work in the mornings.

Emma nodded.

“Alright, I’ll see you tonight then.” He
was almost to the door when he turned back around. “Hey are you still up for
that stupid party Stacy wants to take us to tonight?”

“I don’t know,” Emma said. Truth be told
she wasn’t excited about the little shindig Stacy roped them into at all. It was
a singles event.

It would be like all the other singles
parties Stacy had dragged them to, a room full of young aspiring professionals,
talking about their successes, how much their bonus was from last year and how
far up the corporate ladder they had climbed. Of course, Emma was always asked
what she did for a living and that’s usually when the conversation died. Once
she uttered the words kindergarten teacher, no one could relate to her anymore.
They’d usually supply something perfunctory like;
Oh, I loved my
kindergarten teacher, what was her name again?
Or
Do you still have
naptime and sleep on those little mats?
Or
Do you drink milk from those
little cartons with the little straws?
That’s all anyone thought
kindergarten was, naptime and snack. She really hated going to these parties.

“What do you say the two of us just stay
in then? I’ll grab a pizza on the way home and you pick out a movie. I’ll call
Stacy today and cancel, okay?”

“She’ll kill us,” Emma said with a smile,
but she couldn’t think of a better way to spend her evening.

Seth gave her a wink and shrugged as he
walked out the door.

It was raining when Emma stepped from
the apartment building. She started to reach for her umbrella when she
remembered the fate it suffered last night and wondered what became of it. She
flipped up the hood of her bright red raincoat and started her walk. It was
casual Friday at Fitzpatrick, so today Emma wore jeans, the school’s logoed
sweatshirt and tennis shoes.

Emma arrived later than usual this
morning and unlocked the door to the classroom as the students began to arrive.
She threw her coat over the back of her chair behind the desk and dropped her
bag into the seat. The children created quite a stir and she reminded them
about using “inside voices” while she greeted each of them.

Just before the bell rang, Brayden walked
through the door with an actual bounce in his step and a smile on his face.
Emma, so focused on his smile, hardly noticed the black umbrella he toted.

“This is for you,” he said and proudly presented
the umbrella to her.

“For me?” She took it by the leather
handle and released the strap. The letters of the alphabet, looking as if
they’d been scrawled by a child’s hand, created a border around the edge of the
umbrella. She noticed that the tip had a two-inch point. It would put up a much
better defense than her last umbrella.

“Well, thank you Brayden,” she said and smiled
down at him. “Did you pick it out?”

“No,” he replied. “My dad did, but he
said I could give it to you.”

*    
*     *

Emma got through her day by suppressing
the memories of the attack from the night before and put all of her energy into
staying engaged and busy with her students. Her quiet evening at home with Seth
dangled in front of her like a carrot. When she left school that afternoon,
clouds covered the sun and turned the sky a murky gray. She clutched her new
umbrella in front of her as she approached the corner of the schoolyard where
she’d been pushed to the pavement less than twenty-four hours ago. A purple ballpoint
pen, the one she used for scoring her students’ work, was tucked under the
blades of grass lining the pavement. She left it there and hurried away from
the place that made her feel physically ill.

Inside the apartment, she propped the
umbrella in the corner by the door, sank into the couch and leaned onto a
pillow to rest her eyes for a moment.

The sound of the door opening awakened
her and she ran her fingers through her pressed hair, smiling at Seth when he
walked into the living room.

“Hey,” he said, tossing his keys on the
table and sat next to her on the couch. He was smiling, but it wasn’t his usual
carefree smile. He looked a little nervous.

“Is everything okay?” Emma asked.

“Yeah.”

“So did Stacy bite your head off about
tonight?”

“Actually,” he said, rubbing his hands
together. “I didn’t have a chance to call her, my day got really busy.”

“Oh, well. We can still probably get out
of it,” Emma said. “Or we can go, if you want to,” Emma added slowly when she
saw how Seth watched her. She thought that maybe he changed his mind.

“Well, the thing is,” Seth started to
explain. Slowly a nervous smile started to play on his lips. “Kelly’s been in
Chicago this week and was supposed to fly home today, but that plan has
changed.”

Emma nodded, listening. “Okay, how?”

“Well, Kelly was able to swing an
overnight layover in Portland. Tonight.” A glimmer of excitement sparked in his
eyes.

“Oh,” Emma said, feeling a shock of
disappointment that her plans with Seth had changed, and then the lightning
bolt struck. “Ooooh. An
overnight
layover, huh?”

“Yeah,” he said, breaking into a full
grin and nodding.

“Say no more,” Emma said and jumped from
the couch. “I’m out of here. I’ll crash with Stacy tonight and you two
lovebirds can have the place to yourselves.” She started down the hall to her
bedroom and Seth followed.

“Em, you don’t have to go really. I know
you’re probably not up for going out tonight and we’d made other plans. So, you
can stay and hang out with us if you want?” He sounded genuinely contrite, but
one look at his smitten face told Emma if she stayed she’d be the third wheel
and sleeping with her head buried under her pillow to mask the sounds coming
from behind Seth’s closed door. No thank you.

“Hmmm?” Emma said as she pretended to
consider his offer. “Tempting, but no. Now, go call me a cab while I pack.”

“Thanks Em,” he said practically
skipping down the hall. “You’re the best.”

Damn right I am,
she thought to herself.

Chapter
Seven

Stacy moved surprisingly fast for a girl
wearing three inch heels. Emma wobbled over another crack in the sidewalk and
wondered how Stacy could keep herself upright on those stilts. The wind blew,
adding an extra bite to the evening air. Emma crossed her arms, pulling her
black sweater closed, clutch bag held tightly beneath one arm. The short black
minidress Stacy talked her into buying and wearing tonight was riding up again.
She tugged it down, but it didn’t work. With every gigantic step she took,
trying to catch up to Stacy, the dress kept inching up. She should have worn the
other dress she had tucked in her closet. The one with a longer and flowing
skirt, but Stacy insisted this was the one that would turn heads. Right now
Emma didn’t want to turn heads, she wanted to be out of the cold and dark.

At the intersection, Stacy stopped
allowing Emma the chance to catch up, but then her friend crossed the street
against the red. Emma hesitated and then chased after her. The oncoming traffic
was forced to slow and one angry driver blasted a horn. Stacy waved her beaded
clutch that matched the beading around the halter straps of her own black
minidress, as she stepped to the safety of the sidewalk.

Emma was relieved when they reached the
office building, a skyrocketing tower, in the heart of downtown. The lobby
offered a refuge from the sharp, cold evening air. Their heels clicked along
the travertine floor as they hurried to the bank of elevators. Stacy pushed the
button and they waited.

Emma took this moment to catch her
breath and search her clutch for a tissue. The sting from the cold night air
had caused her nose to run and her eyes to water.

She rifled around, but found nothing of
use inside her little bag. She could ask Stacy, but Emma already knew the
contents of her bag, she watched her pack it back at the apartment—credit card,
id, a tube of black cherry lipstick and two condoms. The sign for the restroom
caught her eye as the elevator pinged, announcing its arrival. She followed
Stacy and hoped her leaky eyes and nose stopped before they arrived at the
party.

“Aren’t you excited?” Stacy asked,
pressing the button for the top floor.

“Oh, yeah,” Emma said with a sniff and
then dabbed at her eyes with the back of her hand. She looked down at her
friend who bubbled with excitement. With high heels on, Stacy only stood as
tall as Emma’s shoulder. “It should be fun.”

“There should be lots of guys here
tonight. James from my office is bringing a guy and he sounds perfect for you,
but I also think you might like Abe, he’s a new agent in the office.”

Emma shifted her weight. These heels were
already making her feet ache.

The elevator paused at the twelfth
floor, home to the offices of Portland City Real Estate, where two of Stacy’s
colleagues joined them. Emma caught a glimpse of her reflection in the wall
mirror before the shiny stainless steel doors closed for their ascent to the
top floor.

Her cheeks were rosy red and the tight
bun she’d been wearing in her hair had slipped down to her neck, leaving the
hair above her ears slack. She looked like a mushroom. Glancing over at Stacy,
engrossed in conversation with the two other women, she noticed that not a
single hair was out of place in her high, wrapped ponytail. There wasn’t even a
hint of color on Stacy’s olive toned cheeks and the layers of eye makeup she
applied and smudged over her flat eyelids to give them a smoky look were still
perfectly in place. Even their two new companions were perfectly intact—every
strand of hair, every bit of makeup was flawless. The cleavage Emma had gained
from the help of her new push-up bra paled in comparison to the blond wearing
the zebra-striped sheath. Emma felt like a Raggedy Ann doll accidently mixed in
with the Barbies. What was she doing here?

She dabbed again at her nose and swiped
at her eyes, she was leaking like a faucet. She reached for the railing as the
elevator lurched to a stop at the eighteenth floor. The doors slid open and
revealed three people waiting for the elevator. A man in a suit, a little
taller than Emma, wearing wire rimmed glasses. A blond woman with long
manicured nails, also wearing a suit, but with a low cut shirt under the
blazer, again putting Emma’s meager cleavage to shame. The last of the trio was
a tall man talking on his cell phone in a hushed voice with his back to the
elevator. The man in the glasses stepped into the gap that had formed between
Emma and Stacy and the woman followed him and reached in front of Emma to press
a button, holding the door open.

“Marcus,” the woman said. “We need to
go.”

The man finished his call and turned to
get in the elevator. Emma’s heart stopped the moment she recognized him. His
eyes met hers as he stepped inside. The three new occupants surrounded her,
boxing her into the corner. Emma saw confusion flash across Mr. Lewis’s face
before he turned around and the doors closed.

Silently she prayed he didn’t recognize
her and leaned back into the wall wishing she could fade into the wood-grained
veneer and become invisible. The last time she saw Mr. Lewis she’d been a
sobbing fool, barely able to form a coherent thought. She remembered little
about the ride in his car last night. Had she even thanked him for helping her?
She honestly couldn’t remember.

When she left school last night she’d
cast Mr. Lewis as a monster. In her naïve and trusting way, she thought a
simple face-to-face talk with him would make a difference and might help set
the first stones in place along the path of helping Brayden. Instead, she
walked away repulsed by his coldness, her heart weeping for Brayden. Deep
inside the angry bristled exterior of that little boy was sweetness, starving
for love. Mr. Lewis’s reaction had shaken her to the core.

Now she was confused. If he was such an
unfeeling and monstrous man then why did he come to her rescue and gift her with
a new umbrella this morning? Brayden made it clear his father picked out the
umbrella and that kind of thoughtfulness didn’t seem congruent with the monster
theory she’d created earlier.

Stacy’s high cackle of laughter filled
the elevator car and the three suits looked in her direction. The elevator pinged
at the twenty-third floor and everyone filed out. Mr. Lewis and his two
companions walked ahead to the entrance of the restaurant. Stacy grabbed Emma
by the arm and pulled her toward the banquet room where a large sign outside
the door read:

Don’t be Alone For the
Holidays

Singles Mixer.

All singles welcome!

Great,
Emma thought,
as
if I’m not feeling desperate and pathetic enough. Now there’s a sign sharing it
with everyone who gets off this elevator.

They were almost to the door when Emma
stopped. Stacy tugged on her arm, “C’mon Emma. It’s show time.” That’s exactly
what this was to Stacy, a show. For the next three hours, she would perform and
try to attract the attention of a man. Stacy played her part well. She was one
of the most flirtatious, fun-loving people Emma knew. Men were attracted to her
and Stacy lavished the attention. She dated scores of men and slept with most
of them, but no relationship lasted longer than a month.

“I just need to freshen up first,” Emma
said, pulling away from her friend and heading for the narrow corridor that led
to the restroom.

*     *     *

Marcus’s cell phone rang again and he
excused himself from the bar to take the call. It was Brayden again. This was
the last time he would tell his son to call him anytime, he was taking it entirely
too literally. Either that or Rosa, his housekeeper, was putting Brayden up to all
the calls. Marcus paid her double to stay with Brayden tonight and still she
wasn’t happy about it. He wished the nanny agency would hurry up and find a
suitable replacement for the last nitwit they’d sent him.

Rosa was the housekeeper and nanny in the
Lewis home when Marcus was a boy. He’d known the woman his entire life, but her
days of tending young children were over. She would remind Marcus of this every
time he asked her to stay with Brayden, with a shake of her finger before acquiescing.

She was an angel to move to Portland
with him and Brayden. The fact that the move would bring her closer to her daughter
and grandchildren who moved from Seattle to Portland six years ago was a
helpful bargaining chip, but still Marcus knew Rosa had a soft spot in her cranky
heart for him and Brayden. She had been with them through the days of losing
Vanessa and knew better than anyone the pain he’d suffered.

Brayden was disgruntled about tonight’s
arrangement too. When Marcus picked him up from school and told him he’d be
staying home with Rosa, the foot stomping began. The bribe of pizza and any
movie he wanted on cable hadn’t changed his mood.

“I want to go get ice cream,” Brayden
whined through the phone as Marcus ducked into a narrow hallway across from the
elevators.

“You know Rosa can’t take you out.” The
poor woman injured her knee years ago and walked with a significant limp. Her
less than agile body was in no shape to keep up with Brayden outside the
confines of the condo.

“But Daaaaaad,” Brayden’s whine trilled.

Marcus rubbed a hand across his
forehead. He couldn’t do this now. He needed to get back to the bar and finish
making his rounds with the partners. The sooner he put in his appearance the
sooner he could leave. He hated these nights when all the partners got together
for drinks. Usually he conjured up some excuse to avoid the monthly event, but
he owed it to his associates, Dennis and Abigail. They worked hard and deserved
a little face time with the partners. Another hour or two and he would have
fulfilled his obligation to them.

“Look Bray,” he said, trying to keep the
calm in his voice. He leaned against the corner of the wall. “Get your pajamas
on, climb into bed and pick a movie. I’ll be home,” he glanced at his watch. “Before
it’s over, okay? And we’ll go get ice cream tomorrow, I promise.”

“Fine,” Brayden sighed.

“Now just watch your movie and try not
to call me, so I can get my work done and come home, okay?”

“Okay,” Brayden agreed and hung up.
Marcus held his phone and stared down at it, hoping it wouldn’t ring again.

“Excuse me,” he heard a woman’s voice
behind him. He was blocking the narrow entrance to the small hallway and he
stepped aside as a woman in a short black dress tried to slip by.

“Ms. Hewitt?” he said.

She turned and nodded cordially,
“Hello.”

“How are you?” he asked, genuinely
concerned. He thought of her during the day, recalling the attack from the
night before.

“I’m fine, thank you,” she answered.

“I was just talking to Brayden,” he said,
indicating the phone in his hand before he dropped it into his pocket.

“Oh,” she replied and shifted
uncomfortably. There was silence between them and Marcus felt the need to say
something.

“I haven’t looked at that envelope yet.”
It was the only thing he could think of to say and he didn’t know why he felt
the need to lie about it. He’d looked it over last night as soon as Brayden
fell asleep on the bed next to him.

“Oh,” was all she said in response.

“Emma,” someone called and Marcus looked
past Ms. Hewitt to see the exotic, cackling woman from the elevator, with her
hair on top of her head in a ponytail,
I Dream of Jeanie
-style. Ms.
Hewitt looked over her shoulder.

“I should be getting back,” Marcus said
and turned, but stopped when he felt the pressure of Ms. Hewitt’s hand on his
arm.

“Wait, Mr. Lewis,” she rushed. “I…I’m
sorry I wasn’t myself last night after…” her voice trailed off. “ I just wanted
to thank you for helping me last night and for the umbrella.”

He looked down at her hand still on his
arm and then at her.

“Let’s go girl,” her friend shouted
dramatically as she threw her hands up in the air and landed them on her hips.
“I’ve got the men lining up in there for you.”

“You’re welcome,” Marcus answered and
weaved his way back through the restaurant to the crowded bar.

Chapter
Eight

There was a knock at Marcus’s office
door.

“Come in,” he called, expecting Gretta
with an updated list of their accounts payable. The year was coming to a close
and whatever loose ends he didn’t tie up by the end of today he’d have to
handle remotely from Seattle. He and Brayden were leaving first thing tomorrow
morning.

It was Abigail.

“Quick question,” she said, slinking
into his office with a pad of paper and pen in her hand. She wore her long
blond hair down today. Marcus hated it when she did that, it reminded him of
Vanessa. But it didn’t stop there, everything about her reminded him of
Vanessa—the musky smell of her perfume, the way she dressed, and the way she
could be so charming and engaging with clients. None of these were bad
qualities and if the circumstances were different Marcus may have admired her
more than he loathed her. He found it difficult to be in the same room with her
for more than thirty seconds and hardly ever worked with her alone.