Authors: Debra Webb
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary, #Romantic Comedy, #Humor & Satire, #General Humor, #opposites attract, #Humor, #single mom, #Family Life, #Starting Over, #Romance, #Cougar, #plan b
“Moving to a new town is tough. Melissa was thrust into a new environment, one which you were absent from for the last couple of weeks. And that made it even tougher.” He shrugged one massive shoulder. “According to your registration information, you’re a single parent. Problems in your personal life could have set off this type of behavior. It’s not uncommon for kids to act out their frustrations this way.”
Donna lifted her chin and glared at the man. All emotion, except one, vanished. Who did he think he was, judging her by his own preconceived notion of single parenthood? “Our relocation to Huntley may have had some ill effects on Melissa, but your assumption that there are problems in our home life is absurd. And furthermore, I do not appreciate the presumption. My marital status is, frankly, none of your business.”
“I didn’t mean to suggest—”
“I know my daughter, Mr. Bradley. There must be some other explanation for her behavior. I would suggest that you put your remarkable skills of perception to work at figuring out what it is.”
The man blinked, taken aback. “I’m sorry if I’ve offended you, Ms. J—”
“That’s
Dr.
Jacobs.” She was on a roll now. No fear. No attraction. Just plain old ticked off. He might be a knight in shining armor on a dark street when you had a flat tire, but he bore no resemblance whatsoever to the kind of teacher she wanted for her only child.
“Dr. Jacobs,” he amended. “I know this is difficult, but sometimes children don’t react the way we expect them to. For whatever reasons, this is the behavior Melissa has displayed since her placement in my classroom.”
“Perhaps that’s the problem.” Donna dropped the crumpled pink slip she’d been clutching onto his desk and turned toward the door. “If you’ll point me in the direction of the principal’s office, I’ll remedy that situation right now.”
“M—Dr. Jacobs.” He followed her into the hall. “I’m sure we can resolve this matter without involving the principal.”
Donna spun around at the abrupt change in his tone. His eyes no longer held that confident intensity. She couldn’t read the mixed emotions that played across his face, but it was clear that Mr. Hank Bradley wanted no part of the principal.
“I’m not so sure, Mr. Bradley. How can I be certain that you won’t take your hostility toward me out on my daughter?”
“Hostility?” Confusion joined the mixture of emotions. “If you’ve perceived my actions as hostile then you’re completely off base.”
Donna eyed him for a long moment before responding. He was right. The man hadn’t actually been hostile. In fact, she was the one who’d been hostile. He’d been patient and polite, but that didn’t make him right about Melissa. No matter. She had to deal with the reality of this situation. She didn’t even know if this small town school had another kindergarten class.
“Despite what you may be thinking, I am a reasonable person.” She saw the flash of doubt in his eyes. She tamped down the anger that wanted to rise again and turned on her most cooperative tone. Like it or not, she had to try to make this work. “I’ll speak to Melissa tonight and see if I can get to the bottom of things. I’m certain my absence has had some bearing on her behavior, but I’m here now.”
“I’m sure your arrival will make all the difference. I’ll keep you posted.” Relief was evident as he extended his big hand once more. “I’m certain that together we can work this out.”
“I hope so, Mr. Bradley.” Hesitation slowed her, but Donna took his hand. Her heart rate jumped at both his touch and his smile.
What was wrong with her?
Clearly Melissa wasn’t the only one reacting strangely to her new surroundings.
Chapter Two
Donna stood in the small parking area outside the building that was to be her clinic. There were words, she felt confident, that could describe what she saw and felt…but they eluded her just now. Mostly she just wanted to wilt into a heap on the ground and cry.
“I told you the location is perfect,” Patty Russell announced. “Everyone who comes into town has to pass right by it.”
Perched on the edge of a cornfield, the weathered building, probably one of the oldest in town, sat across the street from the local hardware store, circa 1882. A small convenience store was a stone’s throw away. The fact of the matter was the whole town appeared to have been dropped in the middle of one gigantic cornfield. There was a post office, the school, a small grocery store, a gas station and the hardware store, of course. The newest business appeared to be a larger convenience store on the far side of town where Main Street and the new interstate intersected.
Donna had been prepared for small and quaint. And it was true that the main thorough that curved through Huntley passed right in front of this place. But it was old and a little creepy looking. The board and batten siding had a fresh coat of sand colored paint—thanks to Patty—but the metal sign mounted above the entrance needed another coat or two. Donna could see the ghost of the former business name beneath the new sandy color…
Huntley Meats
.
“Please tell me this wasn’t a butcher shop.” Donna felt sick to her stomach. Every dime she’d had in savings had gone into this venture…into moving close to her only family.
The plan had sounded so good in theory. Huntley was one of the South’s many small towns in need of a medical clinic. Since the old doctor retired, the closest doctor or hospital was at least thirty miles away. Sam, Patty’s husband, had the perfect house for Donna and Melissa. His aunt had left it to him. It was all just meant to be. Patty would get everything ready, including enrolling Melissa in school on time while Donna remained in Denver to settle the last of that nasty business.
“No, no,” Patty insisted. “It hasn’t been a butcher shop for decades. Sam’s great-great uncle Silas used it for the lumber mill’s office and then the Martin family bought it for their son who was in medical school. Old Doc Martin ran a clinic here until he retired last year.” Patty slung an arm around Donna’s sagging shoulders. “I promise you’ll be pleasantly surprised when we get inside. The electrician’s already here doing the final inspection. And don’t worry about this.” She waved off the exterior concerns Donna voiced. “The new sign will be delivered and installed tomorrow. It’ll cover the past right up.”
Donna moved her head up and down. She didn’t want to hurt her sister’s feelings. Their parents had died years ago. There was no one left in their hometown of Birmingham, Alabama, to call family. Patty and Sam had moved from Birmingham nearly a year ago to be near his mother. This was Sam’s hometown. He had a large family. It made sense for Patty and her kids to be here.
Shame heaped onto the other troubling feelings Donna suffered at the moment. She hadn’t been to visit her sister in nearly a year. Patty and the girls had come to see her and Melissa, but the trouble in Denver had precluded Donna from doing anything but muddling through for months.
That was finally over. She was here to start fresh with the back-up plan her sister had single-handedly put together for her.
They would make this work.
Patty ushered Donna inside and a smile bloomed on her lips. “Wow. Talk about night and day.” If Donna had been shocked when she pulled up outside, she was blown away now.
“Told you.” Patty beamed a triumphant smile.
The lobby was small but well done with comfortable gray chairs flanking tables with neat stacks of magazines to keep patients occupied. The tile floors gleamed. A workable area for the receptionist included a partition that separated it from the lobby. Beyond the sliding window were a desk and several file cabinets.
“This way to your office, Doctor.”
Grinning like a proud mamma, Patty guided Donna through a door into a long narrow hall. There were six—no seven—doors lining the walls. At the end of the hall the two men gathered around the breaker box didn’t bother looking up.
“On your left is access to the receptionist area. Beyond that is a supply room, your office and the bathroom. On the right side of the hall you have three small, but serviceable exam rooms.”
Feeling like a kid in a candy store, Donna peeked in the exam rooms and her office. All were small but clean and well equipped. “This is incredible, Patty.” She gave her sister a hug. “You really did a great job.”
Patty drew back. “Did you expect anything less?” She made a harrumphing sound. “I’ve got you set up, sister,” she said with a cocky sway. “Your baby girl, too.”
Hank Bradley
. The big guy’s image abruptly kicked all else from Donna’s head. “Speaking of my baby girl.” The irritation that had died a sudden and swift death when she rolled up in front of this clinic resurrected. “Did you honestly believe that I was so narrow-minded that I couldn’t grasp the concept of a male kindergarten teacher?” Donna propped her hands on hips and glowered at her sister. “I have a feeling there’s something you’re not telling me.”
“What in the world are you talking about?” Patty adopted a properly incensed expression.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Donna fired back.
“Please.” Patty’s gaze shot to the workmen at the end of the hall. “Don’t make a scene here,” she scolded in a low voice.
Frustration mounting, Donna glanced at the workmen at the end of the hall. This was a very small town. Gossip was no doubt a beloved pastime, especially when a newcomer was involved. She and her sister needed some privacy to continue this conversation. She grabbed Patty’s arm and pulled her into the tiny supply room. “Look,” she demanded, shutting the door behind them, “You will tell me the deal with this teacher right now.”
“There is no
deal
.” Patty shrugged, crossed her arms over her chest and propped against a shelf. “You’re overreacting. Lots of mothers go a little wacky when they send their young off to school for the first time. Trust me, it’ll pass.”
Donna laughed. “Right.” Oh, yes. Something was definitely amiss.
Something big
.
“It never occurred to me to mention the gender of Melissa’s teacher,” Patty insisted.
“Maybe not,” Donna countered, “but the fact that I spoke to Melissa every night for the past two weeks and she never once mentioned
she
was a
he
seems awfully suspicious to me.” Donna leaned back against the door and matched her sister’s stance.
“Are you accusing me of instructing your child to lie?”
If the outrage in Patty’s tone had only reached her eyes Donna might have believed she was actually offended, but her eyes gave her away. “No, sis, I’m accusing you of advising my child to avoid the subject.”
“What makes you think she would’ve mentioned it at all?”
Donna rolled her eyes. “We are talking about a child who has always had a female caregiver. Not to mention—”
“You’re making too much of this.”
“Not to mention,” Donna repeated, “the fact that there has never been a male figure in our household. I seriously doubt that walking into the classroom the first day and laying eyes on a man who looks like a linebacker for the Denver Broncos is something Melissa considered the norm.”
“That’s it,” Patty broke in. “That’s the whole issue in a nutshell.” Her eyes blazed with real anger now. “You don’t like Hank Bradley because he’s good-looking, self-confident and athletic.”
“You know that’s not all there is to it.” Donna had her reasons and they were damned good ones.
“Oh, yes.” Patty threw up her hands in exasperation. “I forgot the most important part—he’s nothing but a no-good heartbreaker just like Melissa’s father.”
“Don’t start,” Donna warned.
Patty’s eyes narrowed in accusation. “This is exactly why I didn’t tell you. There’s only one kindergarten class and Hank Bradley’s the teacher. I knew you’d overreact when you found out. You’re completely unreasonable when it comes to men.”
“I am not unreasonable.” The idea was ridiculous. “I’m entitled to my own opinion. I simply don’t like Hank Bradley’s type.” Between Melissa’s father and Donna’s former partner, she had a legitimate reason to feel this way.
“What difference does it make what he looks like? A teacher is a teacher—as long as they’re good.”
“It’s the attitude that goes with the look that I despise. The whole I can take whatever I want and no one else matters mentality.”
“Hank Bradley is a good teacher,” Patty insisted, “not to mention the best coach Huntley has ever had.”
“
Coach
?” Every sensory receptor in Donna’s body went on alert. “Melissa’s teacher is a coach? As in basketball or football or some other ego-driven sport?”
“Football,” Patty mumbled with a grimace. “But before you go ballistic on me, just remember that you can’t judge all men by one or two. No matter what you think, Hank
is
a nice guy.”
Donna shook her head and looked heavenward. “Why couldn’t there be two kindergartens?” It wasn’t like she could decide to move again. Her entire life’s saving was here…in this former butcher shop!
“Give the man a chance. It isn’t his fault they put him in the kindergarten class this year. He—”
“This year? You mean he’s never done this before?” Donna felt her blood pressure rising. Any minute now it would reach stroke proportions.
A sharp knock at the door made Donna jump away from the sound. Her hand went to her throat.
The electrician.
“Just a minute!” She narrowed her gaze on her sister. “Well?”
“Of course he’s taught before,” Patty huffed in a stage whisper. “He was the high school history teacher last year.”
“High school—”
“Dr. Jacobs.” A gravelly voice called through the closed door. “We’re all through checking out your electrical system.”
After giving her sister an I’m-not-finished-with-you-yet look, Donna turned and opened the door just far enough to stick her head out. “Any problems?” she asked, manufacturing a smile. She wondered just how long he’d been standing outside the door listening before he knocked. He probably heard the whole sordid conversation. By sundown all of Huntley would know that the new doctor didn’t care for her daughter’s teacher.
The tall, lanky man in tan coveralls eyed Donna with plain old impatience. “There’s a bit of work that needs to be done. It’s all in the report.” He shoved a copy of a handwritten report in her direction.