Maybe This Time (The Educators Book 3) (6 page)

Read Maybe This Time (The Educators Book 3) Online

Authors: Kathryn Shay

Tags: #contemporary romance, #teacher series, #teachers and students, #professional conflict, #contemporary novella, #opposite attracts, #school violence, #troubled teens

BOOK: Maybe This Time (The Educators Book 3)
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Delaney bit her lip. She had an idea, but she should take the time to think it through. And she had to be certain of her motives.

Yet how could she wait? The problem was immediate. Oh, hell, she’d go for it. Her gut instinct usually worked where kids were concerned. “How about if Stephanie stays with me after school? If I have a meeting she can wait in my classroom. If I want to go home, she can come with me and you can pick her up at my apartment. That way you can stay at work to the last possible minute. Or we can go to your house until you get home.”

His jaw dropped. “You’d give up your free time to do that?”

“For a while. And we’d need to set limits, like you’d have to pick her up by six. It should only be for a few weeks, to get her through the bad time you two are having.”

“It’s worth a try.” He shook his head.

“What?”

“I can’t believe a teacher would put herself out like this.”

“You’d be surprised what teachers will do for their kids.” Delaney thought about Nick and Brie Corelli and how they’d saved Matt Keller’s life last year. The boy lived with them now, though she’d heard the mayor, his father, was making overtures to his son.

“I
am
surprised. I wish I could find a way to repay you.”

“Oh, you can. By connecting with Steph. And don’t threaten her, Gage. Believe me, I know. It only makes a teenager rebel more.”

She could tell by the cold look in his eyes that he didn’t like that. But Delaney had a feeling he wasn’t going to like a lot of what she said to him. It didn’t feel good to her, either, but Stephanie had to be her first priority.

 

 

Chapter 5

“Oh my God, this is creepy. How do you come down here alone?” Stephanie spoke the words as she and Ms. Dawson entered the yucky basement of her apartment house. Not only was the cellar dim, but it smelled like mildew. And there was white crud on the concrete walls.

“I’ve been in worse places than this in my life.” Ms. Dawson set the basket of clothes on the dryer. She’d changed into black capris and a purple shirt which read, “Teachers Have Class.” Taking the soap from Stephanie, she poured it into the washer.

“So, is this a pain for you?”

“No, I don’t mind doing laundry.”

Steph hiked up onto the dryer. “Not that. Babysitting me.”

“I’m not babysitting you. I offered to spend some time with you is all.” She cocked her head. “You should have done what your dad told you to do, honey.”

It was kind of sweet to spend time with her teacher outside of school. Steph knew what had happened—Ms. Dawson had freaked about the PINS petition and called her father. Steph was kind of hoping Ms. Dawson would do that. She was scared shitless he would follow through on the threat. She was sorry, though, that she’d caused her favorite person in the world to be upset but she got to be with her all this time so that was cool.

“Hey, girlfriend, where are you?”

Steph said, “Seriously, aren’t you bummed being saddled with me?”

“I don’t feel saddled. But I am upset you went drinking and smoking with Schmooze when you were already in a lot of trouble.” Ms. Dawson thought for a minute. “I want a promise from you, Steph. That you won’t only tell me half the story of what happens anymore.”

Stephanie thought about the secret she was keeping about Schmooze. She wished she could tell Ms. Dawson what was really going on with her friends. She was panicky about the gun but had to keep it on the down low. “I promise. But as for the girls, they’re the only friends I got.”

Ms. Dawson set the water and turned on the machine. “Your fault, kid. You had other friends that you ditched.”

When the big D happened.
To change the subject, Stephanie slid off the dryer and gestured to the basement. “You ever explore this place?”

“You gotta be kiddin’ me. It’s like a spook house down here.”

“What’s a spook house?”

“A haunted house. Someplace you go to get scared.”

Stephanie smiled. “I like to be scared.”

Ms. Dawson giggled. “Me, too.” She reached out Steph’s hand. “Okay, let’s go unearth something to scare us.”

They started toward the back. Soon, they heard squeaks and scratches over in a corner.

Ms. Dawson whispered, “I think there’s a light here somewhere.”

Just then, Stephanie stumbled over a little stool that had been left on the floor. Ms. Dawson looked up. “Ah, there.” She stood on the stool and reached up. A light went on, but it was one of those that flickered on and off, making the place even more eerie.

“Hmm,” Steph whispered in a craggy voice. “Maybe there’s a psycho killer in the basement waiting for two young chicks to feast on, like in
Criminal Minds.

“You’re sick, girl. Which makes you a good writer.”

A screech rent the air.

“Uh-oh…”

“What the…?”

Ms. Dawson grabbed her arm as something darted out from behind a pile of tarp. It stopped in front of them. “Meow.”

Stephanie slapped a hand over her chest. Then she and Ms. Dawson both burst out laughing. Holding their sides, laughing. “It’s only a kitten.”

Bending down, Steph touched it. “It’s so scrawny.” Its hair was matted and dirty. And it was tiny, even for a kitten. “I wonder what it’s doing down here.”

“Not getting enough to eat, that’s for sure.”

Steph picked up the tiny ball of fur and stood. “Hey, sweetie. Aren’t you cute?”

The cat was black, with one spot of white on its forehead that was sort of in the shape of a heart. She meowed again, and nipped at Stephanie’s finger.

“I wonder whose she belongs to?”

“She?”

“I hope so.” Stephanie held the kitten up. “Yep, just us girls down here.”

Ms. Dawson scratched the cat’s head.

“Can you keep her?”

“Uh-uh, and she can’t belong to anybody in this building. No pets allowed.”

“Oh, then…maybe I can have her.”

“You want to?”

“Yeah, sure. But Simon Legree probably won’t let me.”

“Stop calling your dad all the names of the villains in the books you read, Steph.” She’d picked
Uncle Tom’s Cabin
for one of the free choices Ms. Dawson gave them. “And speaking of your dad, we need to talk about how you can get along better with him.”

“I will if you let me take the cat upstairs.”

“Hey, I’d never leave the kitten down here alone now that we found her. But we have to check with Mrs. Patterson to see if she knows anything about the animal.”

Steph cuddled the kitty and felt warm inside. “How old do you think she is?”

“Young, only weeks. I wonder how she’s survived.”

“You said women have a better survival instinct than men.”

“No, I said I like to think that.”

“Because of what you went through as a kid.”

“Partly.”

“I wish I knew more about your past.”

“You know enough. An addicted mother, a deadbeat dad. Foster homes.” She tugged on Steph’s hair. “A lot of people have it tough in life and we have to make the best of our situations.”

Getting the message, Steph nodded.

“Now let’s go see about the kitty.”

o0o

When Gage knocked on Delaney’s door and heard a “Come in,” he found his daughter and her teacher seated on the floor, their backs to him, focusing on something between them, which Gage couldn’t see. The atmosphere—soft jazz playing on the stereo, some candles lit on the table and the scent of dough and spicy sauce--was the antithesis of what he usually found when he got home. Gage was struck by an unfamiliar sense of longing; it stopped him a minute.

Delaney glanced behind her. The purple shirt she wore fell off her shoulder, baring a bit of skin. “Hi, there. Come on over.”

He closed the door and crossed to them. Steph looked up, for once, without mutiny on her face. “Look what we found, Dad.”

Towering over them, he peered down at the tiny fur ball. “Found? It’s not yours?” he asked Delaney.

“No. The kitten was in the basement when we went to do laundry.”

Since when did his daughter do laundry? Both he and Andrea had a housekeeper.

“Sit for a minute,” Delaney said gesturing to the couch.

He hunkered down and got a better look at the cat. “It’s a sorry sight. Really skinny. Nobody’s been feeding her?”

“We gave her a bath, which she hated, and milk that she lapped up,” Steph said.

“She needs food, too,” Gage commented.

“About that.” Delaney nodded to Steph. “Go ahead.”

“The kitten’s a stray. Ms. Dawson’s landlady said nobody can have one in this building, so she must have gotten in by mistake. She says Delaney can’t keep her.”

“That’s too bad.”

Stephanie watched him with a look she’d worn when she’d wheedled her first two-wheeler out of him when she was too young to ride one.

“What?”

“Can I have her?” At his frown, she added, “Please, Dad.”

“Cats need attention.”

“And love,” Steph said. “I can give her both.”

“What about when you go to your Mom’s?”

“I can bring the kitten with me. Mom lets me do anything I want.”

Which was part of the problem.

God, the last thing he wanted was an animal in his house. He glanced at Delaney. He couldn’t read the expression on her face. His gaze went back to Stephanie. She was staring at him like maybe he wasn’t the enemy; that look caused him to make a decision he hoped he didn’t regret.

“All right. You can keep her. Mrs. Johnson…” their housekeeper “…is always saying we should have a pet.”

“Cats are awesome companions,” Delaney put in, smiling now. “I had one once.”

Stephanie studied her teacher. “You sound sad.”

“I missed her when I had to…leave.”

“Where?”

“Enough about me.” She smiled at Gage. “You’ll have to stop and get cat food and a litter box on the way home.”

Just what he wanted to do.

“Oh, that’ll be fun. Can we get a little bed for her, too, Dad?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

They were at the door to leave when Stephanie turned around. “Ms. Dawson, what was the name of the cat you had?”

“Violet.” She shrugged a shoulder. “Purple’s my favorite color.”

“Then that’s her name. Come on, Violet, let’s go home.”

o0o

The April day dawned beautifully—the sun had risen and the birds were chirping loudly as Delaney left her apartment building to take an easy run. She liked to vary her exercise and early morning on Park Avenue when few people were out was special. The crisp air felt good on her face, but she was glad she’d put on a windbreaker jacket with her track pants. 

She went a mile down the street and suddenly got hot. She took off her jacket; that helped so she continued to run. She’d reached a little park she often stopped at when her stomach roiled. Racing over to the big trash barrel, she vomited into it.

When she was finished, she sat on a nearby bench and put her head between her legs. The position only made her feel worse, so she sat up, leaned back and closed her eyes. She hoped she wasn’t getting the flu. She’d managed to miss it all winter. The backlash to being sick and out a day at school was monumental. Briefly, she remembered the last time she was absent a few weeks ago and thought of Gage, naked in bed, loving her.

After a few minutes, she felt better. To be safe, she walked back to her place at an easy pace, enjoying the stores she passed. One, a jewelry shop where she bought some of her more funky pieces had a new display so she stopped and perused it. She liked the black necklace with a big ceramic flower in the middle, glazed with white and blue. Maybe she’d come back and buy it.

A flower vendor was also open by the time she reached the shop so she stopped and bought some calla lilies. As the scent wafted up to her, she considered the fact that she always bought her own flowers. How totally depressing was it that she was thirty years old and no man had ever given her flowers? Of course, she’d missed her high school prom so no corsage there. At the time, she was in a foster home where there was barely enough to eat, let alone pay for a dress. Besides, she wasn’t the type to go to a prom. She had few friends as she moved so often from home to home. And teens, especially rebellious ones, were not on the top of the wanted list for adoption or foster care. Still, you’d think
some
guy would have brought her some posies. Oh, well.

She reached her apartment, saddened by her negative thoughts. Maybe she’d write in her journal before she left for school. That always helped her to center and focus on the positive, focus on the woman she was now and not the pathetic life she’d had before she became a teacher.

o0o

Stephanie got a text summoning her to school early on Wednesday morning, so she asked her dad for a ride without telling him why. She felt a little bad about it as he dropped her off, so before she opened the passenger door, she said sincerely, “Thanks. For dropping me off and for Violet.”

He smiled. He had a nice smile, one which she didn’t often see directed at her. She kind of liked it. “Glad she didn’t keep you up.”

She had, but she’d told her dad she slept fine.

“So, are you going to Delaney’s house or staying at school?”

Delaney? He called Ms. Dawson by her first name? “Um, I think we’re staying here. Other kids are coming in to help redo her room with a spring theme.”

“Have a good time.”

“She’s going to bring me home so she can see Violet.”

“She’ll stay until six, right?”

Steph’s spine stiffened. Of course she loved being with her teacher, but her dad’s insistence on the babysitting still pissed her off. “Sure, fine.” She got out fast and slammed the door without saying goodbye.

Unhappy once again because of her father’s stupid rules, she headed into the school then to Schmooze’s locker. They used to have a meeting place in the back of the building, but the new principal discovered it and told them, in a really nice tone, that they could certainly gather there as much as they wanted but a hall monitor was assigned now to chaperone the area. That had taken all the fun out of sitting on the floor and shooting the shit.

She found Schmooze, Catherine and Mitz already at the locker. Schmooze’s eyes were dancing. And moist. She’d done some weed already today. Usually, Stephanie wished she could get as high as Schmooze, but not this time. “Here’s our little MIA friend. We missed you the last couple of days, girl.”

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