Secret Indiscretions (14 page)

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Authors: Trice Hickman

BOOK: Secret Indiscretions
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Finally,
Johnny thought.
“Go to the hotel and meet Vivana like you said you would. You don't have to stay long, and you can use your jaw and headache as an excuse. When she sees that despite your physical pain, you still came out to see her, that might put her in a better state of mind so that you can reason with her.”
“Yeah, that's what I was thinking, too.”
“After you get her nice and calm, lay a guilt trip on her so that she's eating out the palm of your hand. That'll give you a day or two to start investigating her. You need to have something you can use as leverage to back her off of you.”
Johnny nodded. “You're right, but damn, I'm so busy I barely have time to breathe, let alone spend time investigating her.”
“I'll put in a word with a guy I know who works in fraud prevention here at the college. He's a whiz at identity investigations. It might take a few days, but if you can give me some basic background on her, I'm sure he can dig up enough information to find something that you can use against her that might back her off. She may not care if her husband finds out, but if there's one thing that life's taught me it's that everybody has something to hide and something to lose.”
Bernard had said some questionable things during their conversation, but Johnny was thankful that his friend had come through in the end. After they agreed to meet for drinks tomorrow night, they hung up the phone.
As much as Johnny didn't want to admit it, he knew that things with crazy Vivana were going to get worse before they got better. She was proving to be too unstable, and he knew that an unstable woman was like a tropical storm: she'd pick up speed before she hit landfall.
Chapter 13
G
ENEVA
A
fter signing in and securing her visitor's badge, Geneva followed Mrs. Johnston, the school secretary whom she'd met last week, down a long hallway that led to the classroom where she'd be volunteering this morning. The smell of crayons and glue, mingled with the slightly pungent aroma of floor cleaner, made Geneva think of her own school days, which brought a smile to her face as she peeked into the classrooms they passed on their way. She was excited and anxious, and she half expected, and hoped, she'd run into Samuel Owens before she left today.
“You've been assigned to Ms. Redmond's class,” Mrs. Johnston said. “You'll love her. She's one of our best first grade teachers. Very kind, patient, and smart as a whip. Plus, she knows how to handle the parents just as well as she does her classroom.”
“She sounds like a wonderful teacher.”
“Yes, she is. You two are going to get along very well, and if I'm not mistaken, you're about the same age.” Mrs. Johnston quickly glanced at Geneva. “You're in your twenties, right?”
“That's the best compliment I've received in a while, and I'll gladly take it. But I'm thirty-four.”
“Honey, you look great.”
“Thank you, ma'am.”
They turned the corner and stopped just outside a classroom filled with the sound of tiny voices erupting in laughter. Geneva smiled when she heard the exuberant giggles of children having fun.
“Here we are,” Mrs. Johnston said as they entered the room.
In the short time that Mrs. Johnston had spoken about Ms. Redmond, Geneva had formed an image of the teacher in her mind. But as she looked straight ahead, the person she'd visualized in her mind didn't match up to the woman she saw standing in front of the classroom. Mrs. Johnston had said that Ms. Redmond was Geneva's age, which she'd thought was early twenties, however, Geneva could swear the matronly looking teacher was in her mid-forties.
“It's a pleasure to meet you,” Ms. Redmond said with a warm smile. “I'm Stella Redmond, and you must be Ms. Mayfield.”
“Yes, I am. It's good to meet you,” Geneva said, returning the woman's smile.
A student came up and tugged on Ms. Redmond's blue polyester pants.
“Ms. Redmond,” the cute pigtail-wearing little girl said, then pointed her tiny index finger toward Geneva. “Is she gonna read to us?”
“Yes, Hillary,” Ms. Redmond answered. “Ms. Mayfield is the nice lady I told you about who's going to read to the class today, and we'll start in just a little while.”
“Yea!” the chubby cheeked little girl squealed before running back to her seat.
“As you can see, they're ready for you,” Ms. Redmond said cheerfully. “You're going to be great with these kids. I can tell.”
“Thanks, I hope you're right.”
“Is this your first time working with children?”
Geneva nodded. “Yes, does it already show?”
“Not at all. I only guessed because you have that fresh, excited, I-want-to-make-sure-I-do-a-good-job kind of look in your eyes.” Ms. Redmond leaned forward and whispered, “Give it a month and you'll have that I-need-a-stiff-drink kind of look all over your face,” she teased.
Mrs. Johnston shook her head. “I'm leaving on that one.” She winked at Geneva. “Have fun, and don't forget to check out at the office before you leave.” And with that, she was gone.
Geneva was glad that Ms. Redmond had put her at ease, but she hoped the woman's joke wasn't a glimpse of what was to come. After giving Geneva a quick tour of the classroom, Ms. Redmond gathered all the children to the reading section in the back of the room. Geneva's heart raced with anticipation as she walked toward the reading seat, which was an old rocking chair that Ms. Redmond had painted white and filled with soft, green cushions for comfort.
“Class, say hello to Ms. Mayfield,” Ms. Redmond said in a voice enveloped with genuine enthusiasm. “She's going to read a story to you and after she's finished, you'll have time to discuss it and ask questions.”
Geneva felt a mixture of happiness and regret as she looked at the smiling, adorable faces of the eager six-year-olds gathered in the small space. She was happy to have the opportunity to do something meaningful, and hopefully make a small difference in the lives of the children. But she also felt the weight of regret tug at her heart for the absence of a child she could call her own. She knew she couldn't dwell on negative thoughts. She had to appreciate and be thankful for the moment she was in, mindful to make the most of it.
Slowly, she opened the pages of the book she'd selected, titled
Betty the Butterfly
, and began to read. Geneva amazed herself as she heard each word flow from her lips. She was more involved in this simple children's book than she was the juicy novel she was currently reading. She allowed the inflections in her voice to rise and fall with each step of Betty's amazing journey, from starting life as a tiny egg, to hatching into a fuzzy little caterpillar, to shedding her skin and cocooning herself so she could grow, and then finally emerging as a beautiful butterfly whose expansively strong wings and vibrant colors were a sight to behold.
A half hour later, after laughs, questions, and interesting comments from the precociously smart children, Geneva found herself not wanting to say goodbye to the classroom of first graders who'd just stolen her heart. Several of them asked when was she coming back. All Geneva could do was smile because she was already looking forward to seeing them again next week.
After hugging several of the children goodbye, Geneva followed Ms. Redmond down the hallway and back to the front office while her teacher's assistant settled the children down.
“You did a great job,” Ms. Redmond said. “You're a natural with the children. They loved you, Ms. Mayfield.”
Geneva smiled. “Please, call me Geneva.”
“Okay, but only outside the classroom,” she said. “And Geneva, you must call me Stella.”
“It's a deal.”
The two women chatted for the length of the short walk back to the office, and hit it off as though they'd known each other for years. Geneva even opened the calendar on her phone and scheduled Stella for a much-needed color and cut the following weekend.
Once they reached the office, they stood outside the door as Stella gave Geneva a quick run-down on the inner workings of Sandhill. “Even volunteers get dragged into the quicksand of academic politics,” Stella said. “Make sure you stay clear of it by limiting your contact with too many folks while you're here. There are a few teachers and parent volunteers who're still resistant to the changes that Dr. Owens has made to the school. And with his new plans for accountability this year, I can see some major push-back on the horizon.”
The mention of Samuel Owens's name sent a tingle through Geneva, and she wanted to learn more about him, but she knew she had to be discreet about her interest. “Do you think Dr. Owens's changes will help?”
“Oh yes. Since coming to Sandhill he's made tremendous inroads, and now this school is the pride of our district. He's a good administrator and he genuinely cares about making a difference in the lives of families through education. He's the real deal.”
“He sounds like a good person.”
Stella winked. “Between you and me, if he was single I'd jump on his wagon and ride into the sunset.”
Geneva raised her brow.
“Hey, you asked.” Stella chuckled. “He's a handsome man, don't you think?”
Geneva didn't know what to say, so she simply smiled and nodded. “I met him briefly during the open house last week and he seems to be all those things you said.”
“Like I said, he's the real deal.”
Geneva's mind quickly went back to last week. She distinctly remembered looking at Samuel's left hand when she'd met him at the open house, but she didn't recall seeing a ring on his finger. “Did you say he's married?” she asked.
“From what I understand, he is. But it's a weird situation.”
Geneva's brow went up again. “How so?”
“Well, for starters, his wife never attends any school events, and no one ever sees the two of them out together.”
“Really?”
“Yes, ma'am. Mrs. Johnston is the only person I know who's actually met his wife, and that was by chance when she had to deliver some papers to Dr. Owens's house last year when he came down with the flu and was out for a whole week.”
“That's, um, interesting.”
“Tell me about it.”
After a few minutes of quick and harmless gossip, Geneva hugged Stella goodbye and told her she'd see her over the weekend for her appointment at the salon. She walked inside the front office, turned in her visitor's badge, and thanked Mrs. Johnston for her kindness before making her way toward the front entrance to leave the building. She was a little disappointed that she didn't get a chance to see Samuel beyond the quick glimpse of him that she'd spied from the parking lot this morning, but she was grateful for the information that Stella had shared, and for the rewarding moments spent with the children.
Just as she was about to walk out the door she heard someone call her name. And it wasn't just any someone, it was the someone she'd been hoping she'd get a chance to talk to since last week.
Geneva turned around slowly and smiled when she saw Samuel Owens walking toward her. She'd been thinking about and hoping for this moment, but now that it had arrived she felt nervous, especially when she thought about how she'd flirted with him. Ironically, like the book she'd just read, Geneva felt small butterflies dance in the pit of her stomach. “Hello, Dr. Owens,” she managed to pull from her tongue. “It's good to see you, again.”
He smiled. “Likewise. How did everything go with Ms. Redmond's class?”
She was impressed that he knew which class she'd been assigned to, but it also made her wonder how a man as busy as he was, running a fairly large school, could possibly know the assignments of the volunteers at Sandhill. Then a small voice told her that maybe he didn't keep up with every volunteer. Maybe he was only keeping up with her. “It went well and I really enjoyed it,” she said.
He nodded. “I'm glad you did, and I'm sure the children, as well as Ms. Redmond, equally enjoyed you.”
“I hope so,” she responded, feeling bashful. “None of the children fell asleep and they actually asked questions.”
“First graders are an interesting mix. They're not newbies like the kindergarteners but they're still raw and somewhat delicate.”
“Yes, and they're not afraid to ask questions or speak up.”
He chuckled. “Not in the least. They're bold and unafraid of anything. That's what makes them so special.”
Geneva wondered if he and his wife had children, and beyond that, she was curious to know the real state of his marriage. Was he happy but private, or was he like her, existing in a troubled situation while going about everyday life? But she once again remembered the flirting and warm smiles they'd shared the week before, and she thought she had a general idea of his present state. “Children are amazing,” she offered.
“Yes, they are, and they soak up everything around them.” He looked deeply into her eyes. “I'm sure you left an impression on them.”
Geneva smiled nervously, feeling warm from the way his eyes seemed to read hers. She discreetly glanced down at his left hand, and just as she remembered, his ring finger was bare. They stood in silence and surprisingly, the longer they were next to each other, the more comfortable Geneva became.
“Ms. Mayfield, I have a few tasks to complete this morning, but while I have a free moment, may I walk you to your car?”
There was something about Samuel that made Geneva feel a kind of excitement she hadn't experienced in a long time. She liked the way he paid attention to her and asked questions that showed he was genuinely interested in what she had to say.
Just a short time ago she'd longed for this type of feeling from Johnny. But today, in this very moment, her husband was the farthest thing from her mind. As she walked beside Samuel, admiring the strong carriage of his gait, the gentleness of his spirit, and the calm presence and confidence he exuded, something inside her told her that her path was getting ready to change in ways she couldn't have dreamed of just a week ago. When they reached her car she was both disappointed and relieved.
“Thank you for walking me to my car,” Geneva said with a smile.
“It's my pleasure, and it's the least I can do in return for your generous gift of time and service to Sandhill.”
“Volunteering with children is something I've wanted to do for a very long time, but as I said last week, my schedule has been so hectic that it's been hard to take on extra activities. But I'm glad I finally took the plunge because I knew it was time for me to find a way to do things that give my life more meaning.”
Samuel smiled. “That's inspiring and such a wonderful way to look at things. You're seizing your moment.”
“I guess I am.”
Samuel smiled again and looked down at the round solitaire on her left hand. “I remember you said you don't have a child at this school . . .”
“I don't have children . . . period.”
Geneva was surprised when Samuel's facial expression didn't change. Usually when people found out that she wasn't a mother, their reaction was often one of surprise. She knew that as a woman in her mid-thirties who'd been married for several years it was an unusual situation to be in, and one that she'd never thought would be her reality.

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