Kindergarten Baby: A Novel Page 2

  Out of habit, she glanced at the upstairs answering machine, and her mood lifted when she saw the red light blinking. Only one message. With anticipation, she pressed Play, expecting to hear him apologizing with the utmost sincerity, begging for forgiveness. Instead, she heard Laura’s perky voice, inquiring about her health.

  “Hey Linds, you’re not answering your phone. Good! You must be sleeping. Rest up. You don’t often get the chance to lie in bed all day. They called a sub for you tomorrow, so don’t even think about coming to school. And don’t stay up all night writing lesson plans. I put a video on your desk for the sub to use. It’s educational…‌or it’s somewhat educational.” She hesitated. “Well, okay. It’s entertaining, and the kids will like it. I’ll say a tiny prayer that the principal doesn’t do a walk through while it’s on. And I borrowed some fun worksheets from the Ditto Queen. Your students will survive one day of less than perfect instruction. Don’t worry about a thing. Sweet dreams. Call me if you need anything your hunky hubby can’t provide.”

  Lindsey dropped onto the side of their king-sized bed and stared despondently ahead. Her friend and colleague cared more about her than her own husband did. Her thoughts drifted to memories of her first true friend, Cindy, a little girl she’d met at the group home after her parents died. Cindy was the one who had introduced her to fairy tales. Together they read from a collection of fairy tales for hours. Often, in their own way, they acted them out.

  “All right,” she remembered Cindy saying, “you can be Sleeping Beauty first, and I’ll be the old granny at the spinning wheel. But next time, I get to be the pretty girl.”

  Just as little Lindsey pricked her small finger on the imaginary spindle, the home’s supervisor walked in, grabbed Lindsey, and marched her down the hall. Then she handed the little girl off to her first foster family. Funny, she’d forgotten all about that day until just now.

  Where is my husband? As if she didn’t know. She bit her lower lip, forcing herself to think straight. That wasn’t fair. Maybe he was just at a friend’s house‌—‌a male friend’s house‌—‌trying to figure out how to make things right, win Lindsey back.

  Who am I kidding? He was probably with her, she admitted to herself.

  Who was this mystery woman who had seduced Anthony, singlehandedly destroying their marriage? Lindsey scowled. She was probably tall and gorgeous, with long red hair‌—‌no matter how she tried, Lindsey just couldn’t get her hair to grow quite as long as Anthony wanted‌—‌and most likely the other woman was far more voluptuous than Lindsey would ever be. Damn it! she thought, springing off the bed. That woman had been right there in her bed, doing God knows what with her husband.

  Lindsey’s life had become a soap opera, and she was the most pitiful character of all.

  She couldn’t stay in that room, but she couldn’t physically stand up any longer. Wrapping her arms around her stomach, Lindsey dragged herself back downstairs to the sofa. She held her breath against the strong, medicinal smell, then took an extra large swig of the stop-the-aching-coughing-sneezing-fever-so-you-can-rest medicine, hoping to escape.

  Wendell stared at her, his big brown eyes confused. She reached over and scratched behind one ear. “Wendell, you might as well lie down,” she said. “He’s not coming back tonight.”

  Her faithful friend gave her a sympathetic nuzzle, then circled three times and lay down with a grunt. Lindsey briefly hoped she’d fall asleep first, but Wendell won. He began to snore, making a sound that only a one hundred and sixty pound, overtired mastiff can make. It was going to be a long, long night.

  ***

  “Lindsey? Are you okay?”

  Anthony!

  “Have you been sleeping all day?”

  She battled her heavy eyelids and looked up, still groggy. “What? Huh? What time is it?”

  Anthony stood beside her, as handsome as ever, and the look in his eyes was tender. He sat beside her and placed a cool, strong hand against her forehead, then shook his head. Just like that, he began to take care of her, with all the usual attention. He took her temperature, brought her an extra pillow, then placed her favorite books and DVDs so she could reach them without getting up. After that, he set out some aspirin and made a phone call to a friend from the hospital for a prescription that he couldn’t legally write.

  After last night, all this wonderful attention made little sense, unless…‌Wait. Could it have all been a dream? A nightmare? Maybe. Yes. She blinked slowly, watching Anthony when he brought her toast and a cup of tea then set it gently by her. He must still care if he’s able to do all this and still smile at me so tenderly. That meant it had all been a nightmare. It had to mean that. Oh, thank you God, she thought, fleetingly happy, despite her aches, fever, sore throat, and cough. She couldn’t imagine her life without him.

  “Honey,” he said softly, sitting by her. “I’m sorry that you have to go through all this.”

  She smiled, trying to sound like her usual perky self through the congestion. “Oh, I’ll be all right. This darned thing will run its course, and I’ll be back on my feet in a few days.”

  He swallowed. “I’m not talking about the flu, Lindsey.”

  “All right,” she said sleepily. “What do you want to call it? A bad cold? Sinus? Overwork? Poor alignment?” She gave him a lopsided grin. “With a few of your super spinal adjustments, maybe a cranial adjustment or two, I’ll be back on my feet even sooner.”

  He jumped to his feet. “Lindsey!” he said sternly. “Stop it!”

  The walls she’d built around her began to crumble. So it hadn’t been a hallucination. No, no, no! But he kept talking, saying things she couldn’t stand to hear.

  “Listen. I never wanted to hurt you. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I wish it hadn’t, but it did, and now I’m in love with someone else.”

  She tried to speak, tried to scream, but nothing came out. He shook his head violently, then turned away. She stared at his back as he walked out the front door.

  “No!” she whimpered. “No, you don’t. You love me!”

  Life swirled in slow motion around her, out of reach, out of control. Her head buzzed, throbbed, and she felt a deep, enveloping numbness close around her as if she were submerged in murky water. She was nothing but a pawn now, she realized, waiting for Anthony’s next move.

  CHAPTER THREE

  When Lindsey woke to the pounding, ringing, and shouting, still hazy from her trauma-plus-Nyquil induced sleep, it took a moment to put it all together. Fighting gravity, she managed to sit up on the sofa, though even that made her dizzy.

  “Lindsey?” she heard. “Anthony? Wendell? Is anybody home?”

  Wendell bounded in from the backyard, barking loudly, ready to defend his territory, but he backed off when he recognized Laura. The barking turned to wagging as she let herself in.

  Laura narrowed her eyes at her friend. “You really ought to lock your door, you know. Even with the world’s greatest‌—‌well, at least the world’s largest watchdog.”

  “Oh. Hi, Laura. How are the kids?”

  “Your kids are fine. But how are you? You don’t look so good, Linds.”

  Lindsey made a brave attempt at a smile. “You know me. I’ll find some way to pull it together by Monday. I’ve got all weekend to get over this.”

  “Oh, I have no doubt that you’ll be back at school on Monday,” she said, frowning, “but I’m worried about you.” She sat beside her friend, looking concerned. “I’ve never seen an illness get a hold of you like this. Are you sure you’re all right?”

  No, she thought, feeling miserable. No, I’m not all right.

  She hesitated at first, not wanting to tell her friend what had happened. What if Laura saw her as a loser? But deep down Lindsey knew better. Laura was the closest thing she had to family besides Anthony. So she confided in her friend. She told her how it had been, coming home to a not-so-empty house.

  “What am I supposed to do?” she cried.

  �
�What did you do?” Laura asked, eyes wide with shock.

  She felt her body give in, and the tears started up again. “I fell apart.”

  Laura gathered her friend in her arms, rubbing her back and speaking gently. “Oh, honey. Maybe he just made a mistake. Granted, it’s a big one, but it doesn’t mean it’s the end. She might have caught him in a vulnerable moment and seduced him. Maybe she—”

  “His last words were, ‘I’m in love with another woman,’ and I assume that meant her. You have to admit, that doesn’t sound like a momentary lack of judgment.”

  Laura wiped tears from her own eyes. “Oh Linds. Don’t give up. This other woman, who is she?”

  “I don’t know. In my book she’s the wicked witch, the cruel stepmother, the evil fairy all rolled into one,” blurted Lindsey. “All I know is that she’s got long red hair. And I seriously doubt she’s ugly.”

  “Ah, now that’s where you’re wrong, my friend. In my opinion, any woman who would do what she did‌—‌sleep with another woman’s husband, and especially in the other woman’s bed‌—‌well, she is ugly.”

  Lindsey sniffed, then silently nodded. “What do I do now?”

  “Take a shower,” Laura advised. “You’re a mess. I’ll whip up something for dinner.”

  It felt surreal, stepping into the familiar shower, and her mind couldn’t help but flash back on intimate moments she and Anthony had shared there. As the steam rose around her, Lindsey yielded to the pain roaring through her mind, body, and soul. She slid down the wall until she sat on the cool tiles, then rocked back and forth, sobbing convulsively, and her tears mingled with the drops of water raining down from the shower.

  Awhile later, clean and dressed, she made her way back downstairs.

  “All right, much better,” Laura said with approval. “I think I might even recognize you now if we passed on the street. First a little food, then we’ll make a plan. I, for one, want to find out just who this woman is.”

  Lindsey was too weak to argue. Besides, as much as it hurt to think about the other woman, she, too, wanted to know who she was. What was so special about that woman that had made him want to leave their marriage?

  “I can’t believe he’d do this to you‌—‌or even to himself, for that matter,” said Laura. “You two were the perfect couple.”

  “You know it wasn’t perfect,” corrected Lindsey.

  Laura shrugged. “Okay, but it was better than most. He at least could have had the decency to take her someplace else, though. I mean, right here in your own home? That’s…‌that’s not right. That’s beyond hurtful. Almost vicious.”

  A car pulled up, the tires crunching gravel as it parked. “Speak of the devil,” muttered Lindsey.

  Anthony didn’t seem bothered by the cold looks aimed at him. Instead, he swaggered into the kitchen and regarded them both as if they were the ones who had done something wrong.

  “Let me guess,” he began, his tone thick with sarcasm. “You’re talking about me, right? Me, the bad guy.” He crossed his arms. “Well, gossip all you want, but I did what I had to do. A man needs a woman who has time for him. I did you a favor, Lindsey.” His voice rose in volume. “Now you can write in your precious little plan book all you want. You can call as many kids’ parents as often as you want. You can go to PTA meetings and Math Nights and In-services twenty-four hours a day for all I care,” he shouted angrily.

  He paced the kitchen one more time, then dashed up the stairs. Within moments he was back, a bulging duffle bag slung over his shoulder, ready to make his second grand exit. Grabbing a bottle of wine from the counter, he turned toward the two women and spoke his parting words.

  “At least Shawna has time to make dinner for me.”

  The door slammed, and Lindsey and Laura turned toward each other.

  “Shawna?” was all they could say.

  ***

  On Monday morning Lindsey took a deep breath, put on a happy face, and stood at the classroom door, welcoming her students as they entered. Her legs still trembled with weakness as she fought the residual symptoms of the flu. At least the worst was over. If only she could say that for the rest of her life. She was completely unable to shake the haunting vision of her husband in their bed with that woman only four days before.

  Twenty-six happy children sang brightly as they gathered on the rug area around her, completely oblivious to the nightmare her life had become. “Good morning to the sun, good morning to the…”

  When the song was over, Emma was the first to ask. “Where were you?”

  “We got to watch Garfield,” Marvin shared.

  “Yeah, but the sub was kinda mean,” Harley said quietly.

  Questions and comments came fast and furious, and she wasn’t surprised. She had never missed a full day of school before, let alone two. And since this was kindergarten, Lindsey was the first teacher most of them had ever known. With her gone, the students had discovered that not all teachers possessed the patience or kindness that came so naturally to Lindsey.

  “She yelled at us,” whined Bobby. “And she made Joseph sit in the corner by himself.” Bobby was a perpetual whiner. Even when things were going well. Today, however, his tone seemed more grating than usual.

  Teaching kindergarten was not for everyone. Being around one or two five-year-olds for a day can be difficult; being in a room with twenty-six of them can be impossible. It can push a normal person right over the edge, and Lindsey could attest to that. Even for her, there were days when she would have liked to send Joseph to the moon. But she never let it show.

  Lindsey explained all about her bad cold then read the story, Teddy Bears Cure A Cold by Suzanna Gretz. Needing a little time to herself, she suggested they all sit and make pictures of their own experiences with sneezing, sore throats, or runny noses. Out came the pencils, crayons, and paper, and away to the tables went the eager young artists. Lindsey went to her desk to blow her own nose and take another dose of Tylenol.

  From her desk she observed Willy demonstrating his ability to blow snot bubbles out of his slightly runny nose. His table partners displayed varying reactions. Emma politely tried to ignore him; Maggie’s face showed disgust at his grossness; Harley giggled; and competitive Joseph tried his best, with no luck, to make something, anything come out of his nose.

  Lindsey’s classroom was cheerful and tidy‌—‌or at least it was tidy compared to most kindergarten classrooms. Martha Stewart might not approve, but students, parents, and other teachers did. Lindsey was a master organizer with color coordinated tubs, all labeled appropriately and housing things like writing folders, individual book bags, thematic folders, and music folders.

  “Can I shut off the lights?” Alexa asked about twenty minutes later.

  “Yes please,” Lindsey said with a small smile. “It’s time to clean up.” Turning off the lights was part of a routine she was teaching the children, and it made her happy to see them learning.

  When the lights went out, everyone froze.

  “When the lights go back on,” Lindsey said quietly, “Please put everything away and join me on the rug.”

  A few minutes later, the little group crowded around her, eager to see what she had planned.

  “All right,” Lindsey said, holding up a pile of the students’ ‘illness’ pictures. “Who would like to share?”

  Many hands went up, and Lindsey called on Emma first. She was a great role model and always showed the other students what was expected of them.

  “This is a picture of me lying on the couch,” Emma explained. “I’m watching TV and drinking lots of juice to make me better.”

  “What’s all the white stuff all around you?” asked Armando.

  “That’s all my Kleenexes. I had a very, very, very bad cold.”

  “What’s that thing that looks like a pig?” Willy asked with a sneer. He was expecting to get a laugh out of the other kids, and he did.

  “That’s my dog Sally,” snapped Emma. “Sally always stays wi
th me when I’m sick. She’s the best dog in the whole wide world.”

  Emma’s words brought Lindsey’s thoughts back to her own home, her own very, very, very bad cold, and her own best-in-the-whole-wide-world dog. And, of course, these thoughts segued her thinking to Anthony. She puffed out a breath, feeling as if a ton of shapeless bricks had suddenly crushed the life from her petite body. She silently gave thanks that the end of the school day was near. She could hang on for another thirty minutes. She had to.

  “Miss Lindsey!” whined Bobby.

  Lindsey shook her head for the millionth time. “Bobby, you know I don’t call on students that are being noisy.” Maybe by the end of the year he would finally get the idea.

  He sat quietly while the next student shared his picture, then she did call on him.

  “Um, um,” he said in his shrill voice, “I worked really hard on my picture, and I like it. It’s me. I’m sick, and I’m wearing my favorite Rug Rats pj’s. I had to stay home from school.”

  Bobby’s art was always a little on the bizarre side, and this picture was no exception. He definitely had a style: chaotic. He could make a picture of a flower look like a monster. If he drew a cat, it became a devil-cat, with daggers for claws and spikes for teeth. In her opinion, Bobby’s pictures were far more appropriate for a Steven King movie than a kindergarten classroom.

  “Thank you, Bobby,” she said sweetly. “We have time for one more. Who else would like to share?”

  “Miss Lindsey, who is that the man in Bobby’s picture?”

  Without hesitation, Bobby answered. “That’s my dad.”

  “Wow! Your dad gets to stay home with you when you’re sick?” asked Connie. She sounded slightly envious.

  “Just when he’s sick, too.”

  “What’s he holding?” Joseph asked.

  “His medicine and the big stick. He carries it because he’s the big dog at our house,” said Bobby, pleased to share.

  “That’s a pretty big thermometer, Bobby. I’m sure your dad took good care of you.”