Kindergarten Baby: A Novel (4 page)

It took a moment before she could speak. When she did, it was through her teeth. “I hope you end up just like…‌just like
The Money Pig
!” she screamed back at him.

He frowned, confused by her strange reply, then shut the door and was gone.

***

After school, Lindsey drove down Speedway Boulevard, past the post office and the western wear store, on her way to the small, fragrant coffee shop where she and Laura met almost every Monday. They began each conversation with the statement, “Let’s not talk about school,” but they always did.

After a few moments of school talk, Laura leaned forward, a devilish twinkle in her eye. “All right,” she said confidentially. “How about this? I think I know where little Miss Shawna works.”

Dropping her head to the table, Lindsey moaned. “You’re making my bad day worse. Who cares where she works?”

“You will, I think.”

Lindsey lifted her head and put her chin on her hand, then regarded her friend through narrowed eyes. “Well? Are you going to tell me, or do I have to play Twenty Questions to pry the information out of you?”

“She works at the office,” Laura said with a smirk.

Lindsey rolled her eyes. “The office. Great. Okay. I can see we
are
going to play Twenty Questions.”

Laura’s grin widened. “No, Lindsey,” she said slowly. “She works at
The Office.”

Lindsey stared at her, stunned. The Office was one of the town’s best known strip clubs. “No. I don’t believe it.” She paused. “How do you know, anyway?”

Laura shifted slightly, looking uncomfortable. “I had to get my tires rotated the other day, so I took the car to Big Daddy’s Tires, which is just across the street from the club. While I was waiting I…‌well, I’m sorry, Lindsey, but I saw Anthony.”

“What?”

“He was…‌walking with a leggy redhead, and they were holding hands.”

Lindsey closed her eyes, trying to keep her breathing calm. She didn’t want to see that image in her head.

“Anyway, he went into the club with her. I was staring‌—‌if he’d looked across the street he would have seen me for sure. When they were inside I ran across the street to look at a poster outside The Office’s entrance,” she said. “It showed‌—‌and I do mean
showed
—all their regular dancers. There was the tall, good-looking‌—‌sorry, honey, but she is‌—‌redheaded young woman I’d seen with Anthony, and the poster said her name was Shawna. It has to be her.”

***

Fifteen days had passed since Anthony had walked out, though it seemed more like fifteen years to Lindsey. She was beginning to believe her unbelievable situation. The reality of losing her husband had sunk in like a rough-edged blade, and it hurt just as much today as it had that first day. Maybe more. She told herself that she was better off without him, saying he was no good for her, and she deserved more. All the clichés about shattered love seemed to apply. But her own lectures didn’t ease the loneliness one tiny bit. The days were tolerable. It was fortunate that she loved her job, and the kids kept her busy. School was like a safe little pocket of existence. But she dreaded the abysmal nights and the long, dreary weekends.

And it wasn’t just loneliness. Outside of the safety of her school’s campus, she was jumpy. Even the smallest sound gave her system a jolt, whether it was a tire screeching, a baby crying, a dog barking‌—‌oh, her heart ached for Wendell‌—‌or even a tree branch brushing against the wall of her adobe house. Everything startled her, sent adrenalin rushing through her system. She had no idea when she’d become so paranoid.

With cooler weather due any day, she threw herself into planning for a winter garden in a corner of her tiny backyard. Sure, the mental health professionals all labeled what she was doing “avoidance” or “denial,” but she was the one who had to cope, who had to get past the loneliness and the all too familiar sense of abandonment. She decided her medicine and therapy of choice would be gardening.

She knew very little about gardening in the southwest except that it could be tricky. A little research was absolutely necessary. She stepped outside, heading to the bookstore, then took a deep breath and smiled. Just taking this simple action felt good. The darkness lifted, if only for a moment.

The exquisite aroma of delicious, premium coffee hovered among the colorful shelves of books and the comfy, snuggle-down chairs. Everyone in the bookstore‌—‌shoppers and clerks alike‌—‌was a book lover, and she felt a kinship with them all. Lindsey loved this place. She liked to fantasize that anything was possible here. The only sorrows suffered within these walls were those a reader chose to feel while empathizing‌—‌or fantasizing‌—‌along with a fictional character. That’s what she told herself, anyway. It helped her get through another day.

The gardening theme spilled quite nicely into Lindsey’s classroom. The students learned to chant part of a poem called “Crops on the Farm.”

It takes lots of help from the farmer,
The rain and the sunshine, too.
To grow all the crops that are yummy to eat,
Good food for me, and good food for you.

“Miss Lindsey?”

“Yes, Harley. Thank you for raising your hand.”

“What are crops?”

Aha! A teachable moment
. “You have great questions, Harley. Class, any volunteers? Does any one think they know or would like to take a guess?”

There were no volunteers. They all simply stared, waiting for her to tell them. But she wanted them to think for themselves. Lindsey kept waiting for an answer, then she asked the question again.

“What are crops?”

Finally, Marvin’s hand went up. “Crops…‌are a lot like alligators,” he stated with conviction.

***

She drove west, heading to The Desert Grows Nursery, until a red traffic light forced her to come to a stop. This was not a good place to stop. She stared steadfastly ahead, refusing to look to her left. She was not going to look.
Don’t…‌look.
But of course she looked, and she saw the familiar signage in front of The Office. Could it really be possible that her husband was dating a twenty-year-old stripper? Could Laura have been joking? She grinned. Sure. Laura was probably just trying to make her laugh. But still…‌that would be an awfully cruel joke for her friend to play.

Lindsey reached into the glove box to retrieve her digital camera, which had a powerful zoom lens. She aimed the camera at the flesh-revealing poster by the entrance then zoomed in. She focused, shot, and turned the car around. She wanted to see the photo on her television so she’d know what she was up against. The Desert Grows Nursery would have to wait.

Autumn coolness permeated the house, so before plugging the memory card into the viewer, Lindsey wrapped herself in the old coyote-covered quilt her mom had made for her long ago. When she thought she was ready, she brought the image up on her TV and stared mournfully at the photo. How could she compete with someone‌—‌a young someone‌—‌who looked like
that
? The girl was scantily dressed in a red sequined bikini bottom. A long, sheer red scarf draped strategically across her perfect‌—‌and large‌—‌breasts. Everything about the woman looked so flawless she seemed unreal. Like a sexy superhero. She made magazine centerfolds look like the average girl next door.

Lindsey had assumed Anthony would get over his immature, foolish fling. Now she wasn’t so sure. Why would he come back to a cute little kindergarten teacher when he could have Shawna, the stunningly beautiful, exotic goddess? Somehow, the hurt she’d felt after the initial betrayal seemed minuscule compared to this hopeless feeling of permanent loss settling over her.

Anthony had filled the emptiness she’d felt ever since her parents had died. Now that void felt larger than ever. Anthony would never come back, she realized. Why should he? He had what he wanted: his fantasy life.

CHAPTER FIVE

Rehearsals for the school’s annual Winter Performance were underway, and as usual, the schoolwide project was time consuming. But if it was done right, it could be one of the educational highlights of the year. So far the performance was shaping up nicely. Lindsey’s kindergarten class had teamed up with Judy Lopez’s first grade class, and they were writing and performing an acceptable version of
The Twelve Days of Christmas.
“Acceptable” in this public school district meant that it included no mention of Christmas. If Christmas was mentioned, then Hanukkah, Kwanza, and every other December holiday that anyone might think of would have to be mentioned as well.

On the first day of winter
My true love gave to me,
A quail in a Palo Verde tree.
On the second day of winter
My true love gave to me,
Two javelinas
And a quail in a Palo Verde tree…

The children sang so sweetly‌—‌that is, some of the children sang sweetly. Others were too busy wiggling, poking, or pushing their neighbors. Then there was Bobby, hunched under a table scowling. Lindsey didn’t dare acknowledge him or try to entice him back into the activity. She knew from experience that she’d only get into a power struggle that way. So she pretended not to notice. Instead, she made good use of those ‘eyes in the back of the head’ that teachers are given upon receipt of their teaching certificates, making sure nothing bad happened.

On the third day of winter
My true love gave to me,
Three western geckos…

“What do you think?” Lindsey asked Judy.

“Well, the lyrics are coming along nicely. Only nine more verses to go. Getting these little guys to stand still long enough to get through the song…‌now
that’s
going to take some work.”

Judy was a round, energetic, Back-to-Basics teacher, and the two of them had little in common. This was the first real opportunity they’d had to get to know each other. After school, Lindsey stopped by Judy’s classroom to talk over a few editorial changes, and just walking in to the classroom made her smile. The atmosphere was homey, warm, and inviting.

“Oh, my gosh! What is that smell?” blurted Lindsey.

Judy beamed. “Green corn tamales. You want one?”

“Yes! I’m starving!”

“Then by all means, take two.”

Lindsey bit into one, then closed her eyes, moaning with pleasure. “Mmmm. Where did you get these? They are delicious.”

Judy’s smile was proud. “We made them today.”

“We? You had a visitor? A cooking visitor?”

She shook her head. “No. No such luck. Just me and the kids. We made them. We ate them, too. We were reading the book,
Too Many Tamales
by Gary Soto and Ed Martinez, and I just happened to have the ingredients on hand to make them. One thing led to another. You know how that happens. I love to cook with the kids, and this was a perfect opportunity for me to integrate a literature lesson, a math lesson, a history lesson, a health lesson, with a whole lot of good food.”

Not at all what Lindsey had expected from the Back-to-Basics teacher. Her eyes scanned the room, taking in every nook and cranny, every bulletin board, and every shelf and display around her room.

“What were you expecting?” Judy asked wryly. “Stacks of flash cards? Piles of worksheets? Shelves of textbooks? Rows of desks?”

“Well, yes,” Lindsey sheepishly replied. “I heard you were the Back—”

“—to Basics teacher. Yes, I know. That’s what they say. But have they ever come into my classroom to check it out? Nope. I like to think of myself as a Back-to-
Balance
teacher. I use whatever methodology fits the moment or the student. People assume a lot. I think my age has something to do with it. Plus, I’m Hispanic. People think I’m a traditional kind of person in every way.” She chuckled. “They couldn’t be further from the truth. Except maybe in the kitchen…‌and the bedroom,” she added with a wink.

With a chuckle, Lindsey veered back to the subject of the song. “I can live with the verse about four laughing cows,” she said, “but I don’t know about the five dancing girls. It just leaves itself open for a variety of odd interpretations. How about five dancing deer? We have some mule deer in the area.”

Judy agreed, and they wrapped up their little meeting. Lindsey thanked her for her time, then turned to go. “Next week in my class,” she said over her shoulder, “I think we might read
The Tortilla Factory
by Gary Paulsen. Do you know how to make tortillas?”

Judy laughed. “Does a
chupacabra
suck blood?”

Not sure how to reply, Lindsey nodded, then left the room with a smile on her face.

***

Cooking had never been Lindsey’s claim to fame, but she’d managed to create special, tasty meals for Anthony. But now, with only herself to feed, meals were less than pitiful. Even calling them “meals” was a misnomer. She couldn’t bear to sit at the table alone. Most of her nourishment was taken in the form of a snack while she read, graded papers, or doodled in her plan book.

Tonight was no different, except that her cupboards were so bare she couldn’t even whip up a snack. And it was too late to go shopping. She decided to call China Village and order take-out, something she hadn’t done since Anthony had left. While she waited for the delivery, she watched
The Christmas Story,
chuckling at the part where the neighbor’s dogs come in and eat the entire Christmas turkey right off the table. Unfortunately, that reminded her of Wendell, and the turkey reminded her of how hungry she was. Lately, it seemed she was always hungry.

The doorbell chimed, and since it was beginning to rain, she invited the handsome young delivery driver in while she searched her purse for her debit card.

“Your kids will eat Chinese food?” the driver asked. “I thought it was totally gross until I got to college. That’s when I developed a taste for it.”

She gave him an awkward smile. “I, uh, I don’t have any kids.”

“Oh!” he exclaimed. “I’m sorry, ma’am. It’s just that I saw
Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day
and
How The Grinch Stole Christmas
lying there on the table, and I assumed—”