Bayview Heights Trilogy (61 page)

Because It’s Christmas
is a
principal’s story. I’ve often wondered why anyone would want to be
a principal—the job is thankless, open to a barrage of criticism
and lacks many of the rewards of classroom teaching. Therefore, it
was a challenge to get inside Seth Taylor’s head.

This book has affirmed my belief in two of
the most important things in my life—the love between a man and a
woman struggling against the common
and
extraordinary
roadblocks in their relationship, and the true joy educators find
in influencing the lives of youngsters. Miracles happen at
Christmas, but they also happen every day in a high school
classroom. And of course, the magic between two people who were
meant to be together is nothing short of miraculous. I hope my
Christmas story adds love and happiness to your holiday.

Kathy Shay

Count on Me

By Kathryn Shay

LIFE DOESN’T GET any better than
this
, Zoe Caufield thought on the thirty-minute drive into New
York City, feeling a little like Cinderella going to meet the
prince. Through the open windows of her car, the air smelled of
early fall and newly mowed grass. Soon she turned onto the
expressway, and the country sights and scents gave way to honking
horns and the smell of exhaust; traffic was heavy today, too.

But nothing could darken her mood. She was on
her way to celebrate her birthday with the man she loved, and she’d
just come from doing a job she adored. She smiled, thinking of how
six of her favorite students had surprised her with an impromptu
party after school today.

Zoe had taught science to At Risk kids, as
well as regular health classes, at Bayview Heights High School for
most of her professional life, but three years ago, armed with her
certification in health education, she had volunteered to design
and implement three health-education courses: Leadership, Women’s
Concerns and Life Issues. A broad spectrum of students had signed
up for them, including this core of bright dedicated girls. While
careful to keep their relationship professional, Zoe often spent
time with them outside of school. Now they called themselves
Caufield’s Chicks. Though politically incorrect, it was an
affectionate term.

They’re the daughters you never had
,
Kurt had told her.

Still smiling, she thought about Dr. Kurt
Lansing, her best friend Cassie’s brother-in-law. She had high
hopes for the upcoming weekend with him. His green eyes had
sparkled like rare jade when he’d held her close last weekend and
whispered, “I’ve reserved a suite at the Marquis Marriott Friday
night. Meet me there at six.”

Her heart fluttered, remembering his next
words. “I have some things to say to you, Zoe. Important things.
Your fortieth birthday is the perfect time.”

She’d stilled. Their yearlong relationship
had only gotten better over the months, though Kurt’s initial
reluctance to get involved—he’d been badly hurt by his ex-wife—had
slowed it considerably.

“Are they, um, good things you want to say to
me?” she’d asked.

“Oh, they’re good, sweetheart. They’re
really, really good…”

“He loves me,” she said aloud in the car. She
knew it, even though he hadn’t spoken the words. Neither had she,
not that she didn’t feel them, but she didn’t want to put pressure
on him. Yet she sensed his feelings every time he brought her tiger
lilies, every time he sat up late with her to discuss a problem she
was having with a student or share a fear about his clinic, every
time he slid his hands over her body.

Thinking about the fire-engine-red lingerie
she’d stuffed in her bag, she glanced at the dashboard clock. The
clinic was just off the expressway. Maybe she’d stop there first,
entice Kurt to leave early and have plenty of time to talk before
their eight-o’clock reservation at the revolving restaurant at the
top of the hotel.

After all, it
was
her birthday—the
big four-0 no less. And Kurt had been making progress in
controlling his own personal demon—workaholism. He’d once confessed
to Zoe that his work habits had been partly responsible for the
breakup of his marriage to his childhood sweetheart, Elizabeth. Zoe
had met her a few times at events for Kurt’s daughter, Lauren, and
had seen with her own eyes the pull the woman had had on him. Zoe
sensed a calculating coldness in Elizabeth, which was why Zoe had
been happy when, after about six months, Kurt confided that she had
brought him a long way toward getting over his ex.

When the clinic exit came into view, she
veered off the expressway and in no time found the medical building
Kurt operated with two other doctors. As usual, the parking lot was
packed. People needed help and Kurt wanted to save each and every
one of them. He felt about doctoring as she did about teaching.

Exiting the car, Zoe hurried into the clinic,
breathing a silent prayer that the town board of Bayview Heights
would accept Kurt’s proposal to open a clinic for teenagers. There
had been opposition from newly elected officials, so the proposal
had been stalled, which was crazy since Kurt’s two city clinics
were so successful he’d been approached by medical organizations
all over the country—and beyond—to consult on setting up similar
facilities. Surely the town would give approval and then Kurt could
move to Bayview and maybe they could build a life there.

Zoe entered the building, humming a song from
the upcoming school musical this year. After greeting the
receptionist, who told her Kurt was in a meeting, she strolled into
the waiting room outside his office, adjacent to the front desk.
Pouring herself a cup of coffee— its strong aroma permeated the
whole room—she sat and perused the area. The chairs were somewhat
worn, and the walls could use a new coat of paint. A little plant
in the corner drooped from neglect. But good medicine was practiced
in this clinic, she knew.

Fifteen minutes later, the door to Kurt’s
office swung open. Zoe looked up from the magazine she’d been
flipping through to the man she loved; he was dressed in a white
shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal muscled forearms. His dark
hair was disheveled; she knew he ran impatient hands through it
when he was upset. He was gazing down at a gorgeous blonde,
outfitted in an expensive-looking suit and fashionable heels.

His ex-wife, Elizabeth.

Zoe’s mouth fell open as the woman reached up
and encircled Kurt’s neck with her long, slender arms. Bringing his
head down, she kissed him thoroughly on the mouth.

Zoe’s stomach lurched.

Elizabeth drew back and soothed a palm over
Kurt’s angular cheek. “I’ll wait to hear from you.”

Without even seeing Zoe, Elizabeth floated
gracefully out the door.

Leaning against the doorjamb, Kurt stuck his
hands in his pants pockets and watched Elizabeth go with a torn
expression on his face.

Finally Zoe stood.

It was then that Kurt’s head snapped toward
her. “Oh, my God. Zoe?”

Keep cool. Don’t overreact. A show of
temper will not get you what you want.
“Hi.”

“We were...” He glanced at the clock. “I
thought we were meeting at the hotel.”

She just stared at him. His face reddened,
the way it did when he got too much sun on his boat.

“Come inside,” he said, standing back from
the doorway. She tried to deny the guilt in his voice.

Woodenly, Zoe crossed the worn floor and
entered Kurt’s office. Everything seemed the same—two big windows,
a battered oak desk, mismatched filing cabinets, the picture of her
and Kurt smiling on the deck of the
Lady L
.

“Have a seat,” he said stiffly.

She sank onto a padded chair, glad for the
support.

He leaned against his desk, his hands digging
into his pockets. “I don’t know what to say.”

Releasing a heavy breath, she studied him.
Damn it, she wasn’t giving in to insecurities and hurt pride. “I
trust you, Kurt.” Though they’d made no commitments to each other,
about four months ago he’d asked her not to see other men and had
promised not to see other women. “It didn’t look good, but I’m sure
there’s an explanation.”

His throat worked convulsively, but he said
nothing. Zoe fidgeted like her kids before a test. “Kurt, you’re
scaring m—”

“I slept with Elizabeth.”

At first everything seemed accented. The
ticking of the clock was louder. The drone of voices outside the
office rose in volume. The coffee smell that wended in from the
waiting room turned her stomach. She grabbed on to the edge of the
chair with both hands. “When?”

“It doesn’t matt—”

“I asked when.”

“Last Monday night.”

Zoe tried to remember where she’d been Monday
night. She’d been playing volleyball on the high school teachers’
team; before she’d left for the game, Kurt had called and teasingly
ordered her not to flirt with Alex Ransom, one of Bayview Heights’s
vice principals, who’d had a crush on her ever since he’d been an
eighteen-year-old student in her class.

“I don’t understand,” Zoe said, struggling to
stay calm. “Did she come to see you? Or did you go to her?”

Kurt stared back at her, his green eyes
bleak. “She came to my apartment to talk about our daughter.
Lauren’s gotten into trouble already this year.”

“Where, Kurt? Where did you sleep with her?
In the bed where we’d made love the weekend before?”

The color drained from his face. Finally he
said, “Zoe, don’t.”

She rubbed her hands across her face, willing
herself to think clearly. So much was at stake here. But all she
could see was the man she’d been more intimate with than anyone in
the world, naked and entwined with the beautiful Elizabeth.

Could she ever live with that?

Did it even matter? A cold feeling of dread
seeped into her. “There’s more, isn’t there?”

He nodded. “Yes.” His voice was gravelly.
“She wants a reconciliation.”

I’ll wait to hear from you.

Oh, God, he hadn’t told her no. Zoe covered
her mouth with her hand, afraid she might be ill.

“Zoe, I’m—”

She stood abruptly. “Please, don’t say you’re
sorry.” She lifted her face to take this on the chin. “Obviously
you’re considering going back to her.”

He stared at her. Swallowed hard. “Yes.”

In that minute everything changed.

And could never, ever be the same again.

“I MADE A MISTAKE.” Twilight peeked in
through the kitchen window as Kurt faced his older brother and
willed himself not to shrink from Mitch’s icy green gaze. They’d
had several volatile discussions over the past eleven months, three
days and several hours. Their disagreements had rivaled those
they’d had when Mitch had first gotten back from Vietnam
twenty-five years ago, when Kurt had tried to keep his brother off
a downslide to nowhere.

“A mistake. I see.” Mitch shook his head,
stretched out his jean-clad legs and clasped his hands over the
Bayview Heights Police Department T-shirt he wore. “You know it’s
too late, don’t you?” he said pointedly.

“You mean with Zoe.” Just saying her name
brought on angina-like pain.

“Of course I mean with Zoe.”

“I know it is.” He stared at his brother.
“How is she?” Over the course of the past months, at Zoe’s request,
Mitch had refused to give Kurt any information about her. So Kurt
had resorted to eavesdropping on her life—listening to Cassie talk
on the phone to her from Boston where Zoe had gone for the
holidays, observing her at Lansing gatherings, usually accompanied
by Alex Ransom, overhearing Seth Taylor, the high-school principal,
discuss her latest projects at school.

“She just got back from Paris last
night.”

Ah, Paris. And Pierre.

Tell that Frenchman to stop calling you,
lady, and trying to lure you back to France
. Kurt had been
poised over her in bed; her short thick chestnut hair had been wild
from his hands, her mouth swollen from his kisses, her sexy perfume
filling his head. He’d teased her mercilessly about the boyfriend
she’d had when she’d studied in Europe and still kept in touch
with.

“Isn’t that cutting it a little close? She
starts school tomorrow.”

“It’s teacher prep day tomorrow.” Mitch
studied him and Kurt tried not to squirm. Finally Mitch went to the
fridge and retrieved two beers. He handed Kurt one. “In any case,
you gave up your right to be concerned about her when you went back
to that shrew.”

In his heart Kurt knew that Mitch had taken
Kurt’s reconciliation with his ex-wife so hard because Mitch had
never liked Elizabeth. The fight with his brother over Kurt’s
decision to give his marriage another try had cut like the sharpest
scalpel…