Authors: Ginger Voight
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Family Saga, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Sagas
The word was out of my mouth before I could stop it. “Rachel.”
He rolled it around in his mouth. “Rachel,” he repeated.
My eyes closed. “Goodnight,
Drew,” I said before I managed to hang up the phone and roll over to sleep.
When my eyes opened that Sunday morning, it took a minute to remember where I was. My brow furrowed as I tried to wrap my mind around the wispy fabric draped carefully across the canopy above me, which fluttered gently in the breeze from the open window.
I grunted through a languid stretch, and the sheets felt cool and silky smooth against my bare skin, which further reinforced the idea I wasn’t, in fact, dreaming.
Oh yeah
, I thought.
We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto
.
I glanced at the clock beside the bed, which announced it was just after seven o’clock.
I eased up into a sitting position, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. My plush surroundings certainly lent to the idea of a lazy Sunday, curled in bed like a cat, nose deep in a book as I listened to the birds outside. But I was here to work, kinda, so I felt compelled to slip from the bed and pad softly to my bathroom to shower and dress.
A half-hour later I was downstairs in the quiet, empty kitchen, reading the paper that had already been delivered, and drinking a cup of tea. That was where Cleo found me as she let herself in the back door. “Good morning, miss,” she greeted with a smile. “Sleep well?”
I nodded with an impish smile. “Maybe a little too well. It’s going to be hard to go back to my single bed in an economy apartment after a week of this.”
Her eyebrow arched. “You’re not staying with us, Miss Dennehy?”
“Rachel, please,” I said. “Nothing’s been decided either way. I still have to meet Drew.”
My use of
Drew’s first name seemed to shock the older woman silent. She bit her lip as she pulled breakfast fixings from the fridge. I was on my feet in a flash. “Let me help you,” I said. “In fact,” I said as I glanced over the ingredients, “let me do this. You sit and read the paper.”
Cleo shook her head. “I can’t do that, miss.”
I took her by the arm and led her around the island toward the breakfast nook that faced out over the backyard. “How do you take your tea?” I asked, indulging no further argument on the matter.
She could tell by the look on my face the battle was lost. “A splash of milk,” she answered. “And just one cube of sugar.”
I smiled. That was more like it. I prepared her cup of tea and then shooed her out of the kitchen entirely as I took on the task of preparing breakfast. By the time Jonathan bounded downstairs, I had a full country breakfast waiting for him. His eyes widened when he saw the stack of blueberry pancakes, fluffy scrambled eggs with a bit of cheese, and more crispy bacon. I had just finished squeezing the orange juice when he sat at the table. “This looks great!” he said with a happy smile. “But where’s Cleo?”
“Taking a break,” I said as I put a glass in front of him. “I insisted.”
His face fell. “My dad won’t like it if you do that,” he warned.
I took my place at the table. “Your dad’s not here,” I reminded. Out of the corner of my eye I could see that he was processing this strange new turn of events. He didn’t say much through breakfast. My guess was that he was trying to figure out how to navigate this entirely new territory. I got the sense that not too many people stood up to his dad. He might have very well been mentally preparing himself for the battle – and new teacher – forthcoming. We ate in relative silence, while he stole bewildered glances in my direction. I would smile and continue to eat. The way I figured it, if
Drew Fullerton was willing to have my head because I deigned to cook breakfast, rather than have it served to me, then he wasn’t the kind of guy I wanted to work for anyway.
I had no interest in being some kind of yes-man who toed the company line. I was here to teach a young boy who clearly needed structure, rules and responsibility, not more coddling. If
Drew was going to be gone three or four nights a week, he’d have to trust my methods, which…by the look of things… were already getting results.
When I asked Jonathan to clean up, he barely squawked at all. He merely asked why and I said, “I cooked. You clean.” He didn’t argue further as he took his plate to the kitchen sink, where he stood
rinsing out the dishes, much like we did before, without complaint. He said nothing as I prepared a plate and took it out to Cleo.
She, however, was quite embarrassed when I served her. In fact she was fairly upset about it. “You really shouldn’t do this,” she said. “Master Fullerton would be very displeased.”
“You let me handle Master Fullerton,” I said. “Trust me, I can take the heat.”
She was so contrite, I figured that I’d get out of her hair for a while and let her get back to her job. I returned to the kitchen, where I found Jonathan scrubbing the table with a soapy sponge. I smiled at his initiative. “Looks great,” I said. “How about a victory lap around the block?”
He looked puzzled. “Outside?”
I laughed. “Is that a problem?”
“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I’ve never done it.”
“First time for everything,” I said as I headed for the door. “I know there’s a park nearby. I thought I’d go check it out.”
“Greystone,” he confirmed as he fell into step beside me. We exited the house and headed down the slope to the outer gate.
“Is it as pretty as I hear?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I’ve never been there.”
“Are you kidding? It’s like three blocks away.” He shrugged again. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the idea of a kid not visiting his local park.
Of course, Beverly Hills’ Greystone Park and Mansion wasn’t exactly a playground for local children. It was more a monument to opulence. The Tudor-style mansion sat atop a steep hill, surrounded by lush landscaping dotted with gardens and fountains. I already knew that we couldn’t go into the famous mansion itself, as the website said it was only shown by appointment. But a relaxing stroll around the grounds sounded like a fine way to spend a sunny spring Sunday.
“You do this all the time?” he asked as we trudged along the hilly streets.
I nodded. “Almost every day. I always make sure I live near a park. Nature is my happy place. Everything is alive and vibrant. It makes me feel renewed.”
“Uncle Alex likes the outdoors, too,” he said. “He lives on a ranch in Ventura County, but I’ve never been there. He tells me about camping trips and hiking and mountain climbing. But Dad would never let me go
with him.”
I didn’t ask why. Anyone who had read a paper could have figured that out. “I guess that means you and I will have to fit that into our curriculum. I’m sure there are plenty of places around here where we could go for a day trip. I love to hike. And I was looking forward to checking out the local trails.”
“I’m surprised you’re not thinner,” he said with childhood candor.
I offered the shrug this time. “I’m healthy. That’s all that matters.”
“You’re the first…non-thin person my dad has ever hired,” he continued. “He considers physical excellence the cornerstone to success.”
I bit my lip. “Does he, now?”
Jonathan nodded. “He thinks fat people are lazy.” I chuckled, which took him by surprise. “What’s so funny?”
“Common misconception,” I said. “It’s a stereotype
and stereotypes never tell the full story. I don’t think anyone who knows me would use that word to describe me.”
“I know I wouldn’t,” he said. “You’re not the first teacher my dad hired. The other ones wanted to sit by the pool or cozy up to my dad. They didn’t want to be just a teacher.”
I was confused. “From what your uncle said yesterday, I got the impression I was the first one.”
“You’re the first one like you,” he said.
I had to laugh. “From what everyone is saying, I may be the last one like me, too. I don’t know if your dad will want to hire me after this weekend.”
There was a long pause. “I hope he does,” Jonathan finally decided.
I glanced down into those endless blue eyes and it tore at my soul. This was a child who desperately needed his mother, so much he was clinging to the help as a substitute. It was what Alex had suggested the day before. “I know I’m not supposed to ask you this, but … why don’t you see your mom?”
And just like that, the window in his eyes slammed shut. He looked away. “You’ll probably find out why today.”
“What does that mean?”
“She always tries to visit while Dad is away on business. Uncle Alex was on a scouting mission yesterday, to see if the coast was clear. Without my dad around, they think they can
finally convince me to go with them.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. “And you don’t want to go?”
He shook his head; his shoulders slumped under the unbearable weight of the adult drama that drove his life. I had seen this happen with many students in the middle of a nasty divorce, where the pain of a failed marriage drove adults to use their kids as pawns to get back at each other. They never understood what it was doing to their children, who already shouldered so much unnecessary guilt for the divorce in the first place. I placed my hand on his shoulder, to show him he didn’t have to carry that burden alone. “Then you don’t have to go.”
His eyes finally met mine. “You can’t stop them.”
“Rule number three,” I announced. “Never underestimate me.”
We gained so much momentum we ended up jogging down one of the hills. We came to a breathless stop amidst giggles. “Race ya home!” I said as I took off running. He was quick on my heels and beat me by a hair to the gate.
“I won!” he said triumphantly. “What do I get?” he asked with an impish smile.
I ruffled his hair. “My respect.”
He laughed and we headed up to the house nearly an hour after we left. I grabbed my book and headed out to the pool, to keep him company as he swam. I wore a floppy hat to protect my fair skin from the sun, lest I burn like a lobster and freckle even worse, and slathered what skin that was exposed from my Capri shorts/tank top set with a liberal dosing of sunscreen.
“You don’t want to swim, Rachel?” he asked as he rounded the pool much too close and too casually for my liking.
I shook my head. “Didn’t bring my suit. You have fun, though.”
With a happy cannonball, he landed in the deep end with a splash. Over the rim of my sunglasses, I watched him splash and play. I smiled at his youthful vigor. Every day was an adventure, and for Jonathan Fullerton, the world was
his oyster. He didn’t know yet what dangers lurked in the shadows.
But I did.
There was a reason that I didn’t own a suit. I never planned to step foot in a pool again in my life. With a sigh, I turned back to the book.
Just as Jonathan had predicted, Alex Fullerton returned after lunch, this time with Elise
McAuliffe in tow.
I already learned
through my research that a number of rumored infidelities had resulted in the messy, bitter divorce between Drew and Elise two years before. His wandering eye was legendary, splashing his face all over every outlet for tabloid journalism. But it took a starlet to publicly accuse him of fathering her unborn child to drive the last nail in the coffin. Though Drew would go on to prove that the starlet had made it all up to extort money from him, Elise was out of the house, went back to her maiden name and had filed for divorce.
Before the ink had dried,
she was living with another man, namely her former tennis instructor from their country club. Drew had accused her of starting her affair while they were still married, and the press just got uglier from there, especially when it came down to the custody battle. Drew had leveled charges against her that she hadn’t yet married her tennis instructor because she could get more money from alimony, proving that she only wanted Jonathan for his hefty child support payments. And since Drew had not dated anyone in the last two years, he claimed that made him a much more stable influence for Jonathan rather than a couple of adults who couldn’t even commit to each other.
If
Drew himself settled down, it would only strengthen his position even more, but from all accounts it looked like he was resigned to throw himself into his business. His business deals kept him in the headlines these days, not a litany of beautiful women.
A
ll of this was hearsay according to the tabloids, so who knew if any of it was true. The people who did know weren’t talking, which tipped the scale a little more in Drew’s favor. If he thought she had been cheating on him, quite possibly when Jonathan himself was in her care, then that would explain his refusal to even speak her name.
I felt immediate empathy for him.
Sure, Alex had certainly selected a side with Elise, fighting for her right to have contact with her son, as any mother should have. But Alex was also the rogue of the family, who might have his own agenda to take the one thing from Drew that meant the most to him.
There was no way I could be certain of
any of these rumors or stories with the scant information available, but it was a moot point anyway. The only thing I cared about was Jonathan. If he didn’t want to go with his mother, there had to be a reason. So I knew that this was my test. I had to stand up to both Alex and Elise, neither of whom lived in this home or had me on their payroll. It was my duty to refuse them access to Jonathan simply because I didn’t have the authority to grant it.
“Go up to your room, dry off and get dressed,” I told Jonathan as we walked through the back door. “I’ll take care of this.”
He didn’t look very certain as he trudged down the hall toward the rear stairs. I took off my hat and laid it on the table before I walked to the living room where our prospective guests sat. Harrison hovered nearby. I knew he was much too composed to show any emotion, but I could see him mentally wringing his hands. Apparently this wasn’t their first confrontation.
Alex was standing as I entered the room, and E
lise rose from the chair she no doubt used to own. Her hair was flaxen and hung perfectly straight down her back. She was lithe and graceful as a feather on a breeze. She was petite, barely over five feet tall, and she clearly weighed less than a hundred pounds. According to her Wiki, she had been a classically trained ballerina when she met Drew at the tender age of 17, and her poise definitely hinted at her professional training.
I plastered a smile on my face as I held out my hand. “Miss McAuliffe,” I greeted as professionally as I could. “I am Rachel Dennehy, Jonathan’s potential new
teacher.”
She didn’t smile as she appraised me coolly with icy blue eyes. She withdrew her hand without offering similar pleasantries in return. “I am here to pick up my son.”
“Did you have an appointment?” I asked, fighting the urge to cross my arms in front of my chest.
Her face hardened. “I don’t need an appointment. I am his mother. Clearly you know that much.”
I bit back any catty retort. “I am aware who you are, ma’am. I’m just a little fuzzy on any authority you have in this house.”
“More than you have,” Alex growled from where he stood.
I turned to Harrison. “Is Mr. Fullerton aware of any visitation plans for today?”
He shook his head. “No, miss.”
I turned back to Elise and Alex. “There you have it. Harrison is Mr. Fullerton’s personal valet. If there was a pre-approved visitation, he’d know about it. So, as lovely as it was to meet you, Miss McAuliffe, I’m afraid I’m going to have to deny your request.”
Her mouth fell open. “Who do you think you are?”
“The hired help, ma’am,” I answered with a wry curl of my lip. “I have to go by what my boss has directed. I mean, I have his cell phone number. We can call him right now to be sure, if you’d like.”
She fumed where she stood. She would never allow me to call
Drew, because she knew damn well she didn’t have the authority to take Jonathan without his consent. “You may think you’re winning some brownie points,” she said as she approached. “But call me in six months after he replaces you, too. Then we’ll see who the fool really was today.”
She stomped by me and out toward the entry way. My eyes slid to Alex, who stood in a casual stance, leaning up against a table. He studied me so openly I immediately felt ill at ease. “Is there anything else?” I asked.
He eased into an upright position. “Nope,” he said as he strolled up to where I stood. “But you might want to think carefully about the sides you choose, sweetheart. No amount of money can make up for your soul.”
“My soul’s just fine, Mr. Fullerton,” I said coolly. “
That little boy you love so much? He’s scared to death to go with his mother alone. And his feelings are the only ones that matter here. He needs adults who care for his welfare, not a bunch of bratty children fighting over one favorite toy.”
“You think you know,” he said with a bemused grin. “But you
know nothing.”
“I know I’m not some dumb hick you c
an roll over just because your brother’s out of town,” I shot back. “Think about that next time you want to pull a stunt like this.”
I spun on my heel and exited the room. I found Jonathan sitting on the very top step of the spiral staircase. I glanced down just to see Alex shut the door behind him. “I wish you hadn’
t heard that,” I said as I sat on the step below him.
“Nobody thinks I hear anything,” he said softly. “But I do.”
I seriously wanted to take him into my arms and cuddle away all that pain so clearly etched into his young face. “Hey,” I said. “Let’s just get out of here and go do something.”
“Like what?” he asked.
My face broke apart in a wide smile.
An hour later we stood in the children’s section of the public library. He glanced up at me with a skeptical furrow of his brow. “The library? Really? I thought we were going someplace fun.”
“This is fun,” I insisted with an eager smile, leading him further amidst the shelves of colorful books. “This is the most fun place in the entire world.” He snorted. “All right, smart guy. Tell me where else on the planet you can fight aliens or travel through time or be bitten by a radioactive spider and turn into a superhero. Books are a passport limited only by your imagination.”
“But why do we have to come to the library?” he asked. “I can read books on my computer.”
“Yeah,” I agreed as I pulled an older book from the shelf. I opened it up till he could smell the pages. “But where can you do that? Think of how many people you connect with when you open a library book. Years and years of people you’ve never met, all sharing one tiny detail no matter how different the rest of your lives are. You are a link in the chain in a book’s life, connected by that one thing with everyone who has ever read it.”
We wandered around, perusing books. He picked a book about a young sorcerer, and I had encouraged him to read a book
that I always put on my reading lists for my seventh graders after one of my students discovered it and recommended it to me. “
Comic Squad
?” he asked as I put the book on top of his pile.
I nodded.
“It’s about 12-year-old girl who has a hard time relating to the world after her dad dies. Instead she immerses herself into a comic book because that’s where the heroes live. When a comic book villain escapes into her world, she has to summon all her courage to defeat him, learning a little something about friendship and family along the way. And,” I added the piece de resistance, “it features a spider the size of a compact car.”
That caught his attention. “Cool,” he said as he looked over the cover.
He started reading in the car on the way back to the house, and only stopped to help me prepare dinner for the evening. Since it was just us, I had sent Cleo to the store for specific ingredients to make a fun meal suitable for kids and kids at heart. It was my tried and true Cowboy Casserole. We ground up some meat with diced onions, then added cream of mushroom soup, corn and green beans, and topped it with scads of tater tots and cheddar cheese.
Again he nearly lapped up his plate. He offered to clean, and afterwards we retired to the media room to watch TV. During a commercial break, Jonathan turned to me. “You meet my dad tomorrow, huh?”
I nodded. “That’s the plan.”
“Are you nervous?”
I gave that some thought. Finally I shrugged. “The interview process can be stressful. You want to do well enough to get the job, so I think it’s natural to experience some nerves. After all, you only get one chance to make a first impression.”
“I hope you get it,” he said. “I like it with you here. I don’t feel so alone.”
I smiled softly. “Ditto.”
He cuddled against me and we watched a fanciful program about fairytales.
Later, after we both retired to our respective bedrooms to read, I found that I couldn’t concentrate on the old book in my lap. All I could think about were Jonathan’s eyes as he looked up at me, so hopeful and so vulnerable. I honestly didn’t want to leave him, though he wasn’t mine at all to claim. I had never fallen for a student so hard and so fast.
But this was a little boy who desperately needed someone in is life who could make him a priority day in and day out, to fill the void left by the warring adults in his life. If I left him, how many actual gold-diggers would claw their way into the house, cozying up to this poor little boy just to get their mitts on his father’s billions?
How many would abandon this child again and again because he was never truly their goal?
It
would repeatedly rip off the scabs on the same wound his own mother had clearly inflicted the moment she left.
I started this journey with a take-it-or-leave-it attitude, but that was all gone now. I wanted th
is job. I wanted to be that life raft for Jonathan when it was painfully clear he needed one so badly. In fact, I hadn’t wanted anything as much in over three long years. If there was anything at all I could do to help a child, I knew I had to do it.
When
Drew called that night, I knew I had to tell him about Elise and Alex. I wanted to be on the up and up and show him that he could trust me. He listened quietly as I explained what happened, and what I had done about it.
“Thank you for telling me that, Rachel,” he said in a quiet voice. “Many new employees aren’t aware how to handle this prickly situation, but you showed quick decisiveness and loyalty.”
“Was this a test?” I asked suddenly. Could he have really left me alone the first weekend, just to see what I would do?
His response was just as direct. “If I say yes, will that change your mind about taking the job?”
“No,” I said instantly. My heart had already made up my mind for me; there was no backing out now. But the possibility did invite the opportunity to set some boundaries, and I was quick to do exactly that. “I just don’t appreciate being manipulated. I deal straight with you, Mr. Fullerton. I expect the same in return.”
“Then yes,” he admitted with no noticeable remorse. “I did leave you alone at the house this weekend to make sure how you would handle this particular situation. If it helps at all, you handled it exactly the way I wanted you to.”
“I took a chance and I got lucky. It’s really hard to make any logical decisions when I don’t have access to all the information. Had you told me that you would not have allowed Elise to take Jonathan,” I started, but he was quick to interrupt.
“You would have done what I asked, simply because I asked it,” he finished for me. “I don’t need another automaton, Miss Dennehy. I need someone who can put Jonathan’s needs first and do what’s right for him because it is what’s right.”
“According to Alex, seeing his mother is what’s right,” I pointed out. I knew it was dangerous territory, but since we were separated by thousands of miles, I felt courageous enough to bring it up.
“That might be true of a woman who cared about being a mother,”
Drew conceded. “But Elise has other priorities. She always has. No doubt she looked impeccable, as if she were on her way to a photo shoot.”