Kindergarten Baby: A Novel Page 23

  He shrugged, but his brow was drawn with concern. “All right. If you’re sure…‌Well, the thing is, I’m a one-woman kind of guy—”

  “I thought that might be the case. That is a good trait, Martin. A very good trait,” she assured him.

  “And I think you are terrific.”

  “You’re not so bad yourself,” she replied.

  “In fact, you’re probably the nicest woman I have ever known‌—‌beside my mother. It’s just that—”

  Lindsey shrugged off the mother comment, though it certainly seemed strange, considering what they’d been doing an hour earlier. “And you are the nicest man I’ve ever known,” she told him. “You are considerate and thoughtful and helpful,” she said.

  “Yeah, well…” He bit his lip, looking more concerned than ever. He reached over and tucked her hair behind her ears, stared at her intensely, then shook his head. “The thing is, I really like you, and I’ve tried to make an exception this time, make it work with us—”

  “Last call for boarding Flight 275 to Phoenix. Last call.”

  Lindsey leaned closer, not wanting to miss what he was saying. His words weren’t making sense.

  “Lindsey, baby, I’m sorry. The truth is, I really prefer blondes. I always have. My woman has to be a blonde.”

  She stared at him, momentarily speechless. She snapped her mouth shut and swallowed. “You’re kidding, right? This is some kind of joke?”

  He squeezed her hands. “It’s been great but I gotta go. I am so, so sorry.”

  “Wha—” Lindsey’s vision started to get dark around the edges. He had to be joking, didn’t he? For a split second she considered coloring her hair. “But I’ll call you ‘Marty,’” she cried, her voice cracking. Tears welling in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. “Marty?”

  But he didn’t even look back as he walked toward his plane.

  Lindsey collapsed onto a chair in the waiting area and dropped her head into her hands, not caring if anyone noticed. What is wrong with me? She had really misjudged him, been so convinced…‌just like she had been with Anthony and Emmett. This time she thought she’d been using her head, moving cautiously, weighing the pros and cons. Apparently, not cautiously enough. Dumped by three men in a row, in less than a year. Three strikes and I am out. I’m done. No more men!

  She drove home, obsessively replaying Martin’s words in her head. Had she really just been left at the gate‌—‌though that was better than at the altar, she supposed‌—‌all because of her hair color? Her hand went to her hair, and she closed her fingers over the long, dark strands, not wanting to follow the memories. Because the truth was that this wasn’t the first time she’d been left alone…‌but back then her hair had played a much different role. Back then her hair had been a life preserver.

  The sobbing started up again as her unwanted, half-forgotten memories came flooding back, and she pulled over, parking safely on the side of the road.

  It had been at one of her foster homes. They hadn’t been bad people; no actual harm had come to her. But they hadn’t been really good people, either. They were careless, party people who locked her in her bedroom every week for two or three nights, saying it was “for her own safety.” The door slammed behind them, leaving her alone and in the dark.

  Little Lindsey had gazed out that second story window, watching and waiting, just like Rapunzel. Waiting for what? A miracle? A savior? A prince? Alone in her little room she began to play the role she’d given herself, and she found some joy emulating the fairy tale princess. She began to let her own hair grow, and by putting herself in her own make-believe world, Lindsey was better able to endure the fear of being locked up and left alone. When her foster parents returned home, drunk and fighting, she attempted to block out their horrible yelling by placing her hands tightly over her ears and chanting repeatedly, I am Rapunzel, and I do not swear. I am Rapunzel with long, brown hair. By morning her door would be unlocked, and the adults were going about their day as if nothing had happened.

  I am the adult now, thought Lindsey, sucking back her cries. I should have more control over my life. And yet…‌what had she done wrong this time? No, she hadn’t loved Martin, that was true. But she’d thought she might learn to love him. He’d started to grow on her. Still, it hurt. Once again she felt like a loser‌—‌an unwanted, undesirable, brunette loser.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  The class had worked hard at putting together their desert performance, and tonight was the night. Lindsey’s stomach was busy with butterflies. Working toward the show had been more than just a distraction from her miserable personal life; it had been a labor of love, overflowing with joy. She loved watching the students learn, then share their knowledge through drama and music, and she couldn’t wait to see the response of all their loved ones.

  Laura wandered backstage before the show, looking mischievous. “Guess who came with me to watch the evening performance?”

  Lindsey narrowed her eyes and scowled at her friend. “I hope he‌—‌I’m assuming it is a ‘he’—doesn’t mind watching by himself. You, my friend, will be helping with the sound system and lighting.”

  Laura grinned smugly. “Jake won’t mind.”

  She hadn’t expected that. And she hadn’t expected the sudden pang of disappointment that flared in her chest. “Jake? So you are finally going on a date with him? I was under the impression you’d kind of lost interest.”

  “Well, I don’t know what he is calling this, but I’m calling it a first date.” She shrugged. “Could be the last date, too. We’ll see. When I ran into him, he asked what you were up to, and I told him about the desert show. He said he’d love to see it. That’s probably all there is to it, really.”

  “How’s it looking out there?”

  “Come see for yourself. The word is out that you and your kids are terrific,” Laura told her.

  Lindsey chanced a peek from behind the curtain, past her friend. She could hear the audience in the multipurpose room talking and laughing together, but she didn’t spot Jake right away. She kept scanning the room, noting with excitement that it was standing room only. Her eyes stopped when she found him by the wall on the north side of the room. Seeing him there made her smile. It had been too long since she’d seen him. She let her gaze move on, then froze.

  Anthony?!

  “It’s almost show time,” Laura said, gently jabbing Lindsey’s ribs with her elbow. When Lindsey looked at her, Laura’s perky expression wilted. “Hey, what gives? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

  “I…‌did, I think. Anthony’s here,” she said in a hushed voice. “I saw him. Why would he be here? He never attended school functions before.”

  Laura squinted past her, and she almost looked away when she saw Anthony right up close. Then she jerked back, spotting another unexpected observer in the crowd. “Lindsey, is Emma still going to use your binoculars as a prop in one of the scenes?”

  Lindsey nodded.

  “Get them. Quick. Before we begin. I think…” She hesitated, squinting hard, then turned back to Lindsey. “Oh my God. It’s her. She’s here.”

  “Who’s here?”

  “Shawna. Shawna, dressed to kill. See? She’s standing in the back on the south side‌—‌and she’s looking through binoculars of her own. And look! She’s not even looking toward the stage. She’s watching Anthony.”

  “Why would she do that? Why wouldn’t they sit together?”

  The house lights dimmed. The mystery would have to be investigated later.

  “Showtime!” Laura said, then gave her friend a warm, encouraging hug.

  The audience ooh’d and aah’d when the curtain pulled back, displaying the beautiful set the students had made. Desert scenes had been painted on paper then projected onto the backdrop, and several papier-mâché cacti decorated the stage.

  The principal walked out and waited patiently for the audience to become quiet enough to hear her. “Ladies and gentleman, thank you for co
ming tonight. You’re in for quite a treat, performed by your children and written and directed by our very own kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Lindsey Sommerfield‌—‌Ms. Lindsey, to her students. So, Ms. Lindsey, let’s get on with the show!”

  As the audience applauded, Lindsey took her position on the floor in front of the stage so she could direct the performance without blocking anyone’s view, and help any students who forgot what to do or say. With her back to the audience, Lindsey waited for most of her students to make eye contact with her. Once they were ready to begin, she was able to temporarily put the presence of Jake, Anthony, and Shawna on the back burner.

  A few lines were forgotten and others were invented. Some of the students danced or moved in the wrong direction, but they kept dancing and smiling anyway, and no one in the audience seemed to notice the errors. If they did, it just didn’t matter. When Willy improvised his dance moves with ‘jazz hands’ during The Prickly Pear Blues, he brought the house down with laughter and applause. He beamed with pride, and Lindsey mused that perhaps a star had just been born. Plus, now Lindsey had some new ideas for keeping him engaged in the classroom.

  She was sorry Bobby had to miss this experience. She was sure she could have written a part for him that he would be able to do and enjoy doing, but that was not to be. She hadn’t seen him since CPS had removed him from his home and moved him to an undisclosed location with the help of the local police. Such a sad situation. But at least he would be safe.

  The show ended with the students singing a song about a group of coyotes who spent a week in the desert. When the kids came to the chorus‌—‌their favorite part‌—‌they let loose, acting like a bunch of coyotes howling at the moon, and the audience spontaneously joined in. A spectacular finish!

  At the conclusion of the song, the students took a dramatic, unsynchronized bow, and Lindsey had Laura and the other parent volunteers come on stage to take their bows. They all began to clap and chant, Ms. Lindsey! Ms. Lindsey! Ms. Lindsey! And several of the little girls brought bouquets of flowers out from backstage to give to her. Then Lindsey spotted a beautiful, voluptuous woman from the audience bringing another bouquet forward, her exaggerated, hip-swiveling walk toward Lindsey demanded attention. All heads turned to watch, and the thundering applause faded to near silence. Lindsey stared at Shawna’s approach, paralyzed.

  Suddenly Jake was at Lindsey’s side. Laura appeared at her other side, and both of them moved protectively as they escorted her away from the stage.

  “Wave and smile. Wave and smile,” instructed Jake, moving Lindsey out to the parking lot. “Lindsey, go with Laura and stay at her place until you hear from me. Don’t even answer your door. Got it? Promise?”

  Lindsey felt dizzy with confusion. After all the adrenaline and emotion brought on by the show, she felt overwhelmed by this new threat. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m not sure,” Jake said, “but Shawna’s been very, very odd lately. I don’t trust her or anything she might do or say. She had no business being there tonight, let alone approaching the stage. I’m going back in, and I will take care of whatever comes up. Once you’re home, stay put, okay? I’ll let you know what’s going on as soon as I know.”

  “If you need help,” Laura said, “Anthony might still be there.”

  “Anthony was there? Damn. What the hell…?” he said before he dashed back inside.

  “But the kids—” Lindsey started.

  “—are all being collected by their parents. Everyone’s too happy to have noticed anything. Let’s just go.”

  Once they were inside Laura’s house, the girls turned off all the lights and sat together in the living room, wondering what Jake would discover. To get their minds off Shawna, they went over the play, reliving the wonderful moments the children had created. The doorbell rang, and they froze. Neither said a word. Someone knocked on the door, then knocked louder.

  Laura crept to the door. “Who is it?” she whispered.

  “It’s Jake. Look out your peep hole.”

  Laura flipped the lock and let Jake in, and all three moved back to the living room.

  “I missed them both,” Jake said. “It seems once you were gone, neither of them had any reason to stick around. I have a hunch that Anthony was there to talk to you, Lindsey, and Shawna was there to keep an eye on Anthony and cause a scene. I’m not sure what other motives she had, but like I said before, she’s been acting very strange lately.” He shook his head, looking confused, then smiled up at Lindsey. “On the lighter side, you’ll be happy to know that all is well at school. By the time I left, only the night custodian was there. He wasn’t sure what to do with the stuff on the stage, so I told him just to leave everything where it was. Hope that was okay. Oh…” He stood up again and went to grab something he’d forgotten outside the door. “Except for this. I almost forgot. He handed me more flowers for the famous writer-director. It was kind of funny. He said something like ‘Make sure this gets to Snow White and Rose Red,’ if that makes any sense.”

  Lindsey shrugged and took the unusual arrangement of red roses and sprigs of jasmine from him. “Not really, though he might have meant me and Laura. I do have a fairy tale reputation, and she’s my best friend, and she does have reddish-colored hair. In the story Snow White and Rose Red, Snow White marries the prince, and her sister, Rose Red, marries his brother. Interesting, huh? Still, you’re right. Considering who the comment came from, it was kind of…‌odd. Maybe somebody put him up to it.”

  She opened the attached card then almost dropped it. All the blood in her head raced to her feet.

  “What’s the matter, Linds?” asked Laura. “You went all pale.”

  Jake grabbed the card and read it out loud.

  Breathe deeply now these jasmine blooms,

  For in their scent, great magic looms.

  I’m keeping the man all for myself.

  Stay away! Find your fate in the tale, The Rose Elf.

  “A poem. It’s just a weird poem, right?” asked Jake.

  “It’s from Shawna, isn’t it?” Lindsey said in a monotone. “But why? She’s got everything.”

  Laura put an arm around her friend. “She apparently still sees you as some kind of barrier to what she wants.”

  “Didn’t she want Anthony? She’s got Anthony. I don’t get it. What else have I got that she could possibly want?” Lindsey asked, then she reread the card. “Apparently, she knows her fairy tales. And—”

  “The Rose Elf is a fairy tale?” Jake asked. “I never heard of that one. Snow White, Little Red Riding Hood, sure, but The Rose Elf?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. Disney never did a version of that one, so it’s not well known. It’s a complicated tale by Hans Christian Andersen. The nutshell version: the leading lady’s boyfriend is murdered, and she ends up dying herself from breathing in the scent of jasmine. It’s a little dark. Not sure what the lesson is in that one.”

  “Geez,” Jake said, scowling. “This is beyond strange. This is a threat. You can’t go home alone tonight. And I need some time to check out a few things.”

  “Stay here with me, Lindsey,” Laura begged.

  “But it’s a school night,” Lindsey protested weakly.

  “Good grief, woman,” Jake said, exasperated. “Can’t you see you might be in real danger? Shawna is in a very weird place right now. You can’t trust her. And I don’t know what’s up with Anthony, either. None of us knows why they showed up at the kindergarten performance, but I’m fairly sure they didn’t come to see six-year-olds howling like coyotes.” He frowned at the flowers. “Just, uh, don’t smell the flowers.”

  Nothing more happened that night, or on any day in the days to follow, so life went on as usual. Lindsey kept planning and teaching right up to the end of school. When the last school day came to a close, and the last child hugged goodbye, Lindsey headed home for a quiet night on the patio. She was looking forward to taking advantage of the cool mister Anthony had installed a year before, sip a glass of
chilled chardonnay, and enjoy the simple companionship of Malcolm and Wendell.

  The desert night air was almost stifling, even though only a glimmer of pink and purple lingered in the thin gossamer layer of clouds on the horizon. Lindsey leaned back and sipped her wine, then reached down to rub Wendell’s neck. Malcolm chirped quietly to himself.

  “Well, guys,” she said, interrupting Malcolm’s song. “This has been one heck of a year.” Wendell put his head on her knees, gazed up at her with loving dog eyes, and sighed deeply. “What would I do without you both? You’re the best. And right now, I need to appreciate the good things in my life.”

  She began to make two mental lists: The Good Things in My Life and The Not-So-Good Things in My Life, but tonight, as much as she fought it, the Not-So-Good list was winning. So much for living the fairy tale and the happily ever after. Slightly discouraged, she began a To Do list for the next day. She’d start by dressing comfortably for the long day of packing up the classroom, then she’d pick up a latte and a café mocha for her and Laura. By four o’clock the packing would be complete and she’d treat Laura to a margarita, check on Malcolm and Wendell…‌and, last but not least, pay a visit to the only man on earth she trusted.

  SUMMER

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Anthony sped home, constantly checking his rearview mirror for police. He was late and he knew Shawna would be pacing. They had only two hours to catch their flight to Colorado, and he still had to pack.

  “Where have you been?” she bellowed from the bedroom the moment she heard him open the front door.

  Anthony took some deep breaths to calm himself, needing his reply to be supportive rather than combative. He needed to be the rock‌—‌Shawna’s strong, other half‌—‌as she faced her last cosmetic surgery, though he still didn’t understand what that was all about. It made no sense to him that she needed any additional improvements; she was already drop-dead gorgeous. But she was adamant about having the surgery, and she was just as adamant that he be by her side.