Fatty Patty (A James Bay Novel) (35 page)

“One letter did mention him being a little heavy-handed with the team. Nothing derogatory, mind you,” she adds. “Just that he was young and could use a little coaching himself. And I can’t say I disagree with the assessment. I’ve seen it myself, working with Nick this year. But it’s exactly what I would expect from a first-year teacher.”

“But he’s not a first-year teacher, Ruth. You said there were other schools listed on his résumé.”

She sighs. “I thought I made that clear. It listed his student-teaching experience, plus the years he’s spent coaching. Nick has never taught before.”

Sam had been insistent, but there’s something else, too. I bang my fist against my thigh, trying to remember. A nagging doubt, a wisp of something skittering just beyond my reach.

“What if he did teach before, but intentionally didn’t list the schools?” I suggest. “Would there be any way we could check on that?”

“Patty, dear, please listen to me.” Her voice softens. “Don’t take this the wrong way. I was so afraid that this would eventually happen. I know Nick is a very attractive man and it’s obvious that he led you on. But no matter how badly he behaved or how much he hurt you, you simply cannot allow this… this… feeling of wanting revenge to consume your life—”

“No, Ruth, you don’t understand. The thing is—”

“What I understand is that trying to get back at Nick by ruining his reputation is not the way to handle things,” she interrupts. “It is not your style. You’re a much better person than that. Let it go, Patty. Let him go. Take Nick for what he is and let things be.”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Does she actually think I’m wrapped up in some vain attempt to gain revenge at being dumped by Nick? If so, Ruth is sorely mistaken. Nick never dumped me. We were never dating. This whole attraction thing was completely in my head. But he did dupe us. Nick duped us all. But not anymore. Maybe Ruth didn’t come up with any proof, but I know in my heart Nick’s a liar and a cheat. Sam knew it, and now, so do I. Just like these potato chips, Nick Lamont is nothing but empty calories, all starch and hot air. I jam the bag of chips back in the cupboard. Feeling them crunch and crumble under my hand is immensely satisfying.

“Patty? Think about what I said.”

“I’ll do that.” I grit my teeth. I’ll do more than think. “Thanks for checking, Ruth. And thanks for the advice.”

# # #

I never thought I’d be grateful to file a tax return. News of the modest refund is a pleasant surprise.

“You qualify for e-filing. Would you like to come in and sign the release form or shall we mail it?” Bill Walters’ voice breezes over the phone, friendly but hurried.

“I’ll stop by after school.”

“Fine. I look forward to meeting you.”

“I’ll be there around four.” My stomach tightens as I head for my classroom. I’ll sign the tax return, but I’ll do more than that. This is my chance to talk to Sam. I haven’t seen him since New Year’s Eve, more than three months ago. My heart races at the thought of seeing him again. Apologizing over the phone would be so much easier, but I owe it to Sam to say
I’m sorry
face-to-face. Swallowing my pride won’t be easy but in my heart, I know it’s the right thing to do.

And I’ll know right away by the look in his eyes if there is any hope for the two of us. Thanks to Nick, I finally learned my lesson. Nick Lamont is a golden boy, but underneath the glitter, he is nothing but hot air. Sam might be big, but those extra pounds haven’t made him flabby or weak. He’s sturdy and strong with a heart forged of 24-karat gold.

Hopefully, Sam’s heart still has a place for me.

# # #

Bill Walters’ office is all glass and wood and situated across from the receptionist’s desk. I scrawl my signature where indicated on the federal, state, and e-filing forms, desperately trying to recall the layout of the office suite from the one time I visited. If memory serves correctly, Sam’s office is to the left, somewhere down the spacious carpeted hallway.

“Thanks for your help.” I return Bill’s pen with a smile. It’s the first time I’ve met Sam’s associate and the young accountant’s professionalism and politeness come as no surprise. Sam is a savvy businessman. When it comes to investing money or hiring employees, he obviously knows what he’s doing.

If only I’d listened to his advice about love.

“Give me a couple of minutes. I’ll make copies for you to take with you.” Bill springs to his feet and disappears from his office.

I glance through the open door. A young woman sits behind the receptionist desk, busy with paperwork. I scoot off my chair and approach the desk. “Excuse me?”

She glances up. “May I help you?”

I scan the open office area. Somewhere nearby, I hear the hum of a machine churning out copies. My tax returns aren’t that long or complicated. Bill Walters will return in a few moments and there’ll be no reason to prolong my stay.

Except to say I’m sorry.

“I’m looking for Sam. Is he in?”

“Mr. Curtis?”

I curse under my breath. Of course Sam is Mr. Curtis. He’s head of the firm. “Yes, that’s right. Mr. Curtis. Is he here today?”

“He is.” The girl smiles for the first time. “Let me check and see if he’s available.”

My stomach bunches as she picks up the phone. Will he come bounding out to greet me like he did the last time I was here? What will he say? What will I say? My heartbeat quickens. What if he says
no
? What if…

“All set.” Bill Walters strolls of the copy room and hands me a large manila envelope. “Here’s a copy of both returns, as well as your original documents. We’ll wait until Friday to e-file just in case you change your mind.”

I cast a sidelong glance at the receptionist. She’s still on the phone with her back to me. “What about your bill?” I ask him. “Do I pay now?”

“We’ll send an invoice after the taxes are filed.” Across the hall, his telephone rings. “Sorry, that’s my conference call. I’ve got to take that.” He sticks out his hand. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Patty. Thanks again for your business.” He disappears into his office.

Turning, I zero in on the receptionist who has just hung up her own phone. One look at her face is all I need. I won’t be meeting Sam today.

“I’m sorry, but Mr. Curtis is with a client.” Her expression softens. “I could set up an appointment if you like, but I’m afraid it won’t be anytime soon. He’s fully booked through April fifteenth.”

My stomach rolls as I digest the news. Sam with a client? Booked solid through next week? I might be a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them. I can recognize a brush-off when I hear one. Sam has no desire to see me and he gave her specific instructions that she should make that quite clear.

“Never mind, it was nothing.” I hug the bulky envelope of tax returns close to my chest.

“Are you sure?”

I can’t stand the sight of pity in her eyes. “Thanks, I’m all set. I have everything I need.” I hurry out of the office, the lie burning on my tongue.
Everything I need?

Everything but Sam.

# # #

“You’re getting married?”

“Can you believe it? He asked me this afternoon.” Priscilla stares dreamily at the exquisite solitaire diamond gracing the ring finger of her left hand. Her face wears the glow of a woman in love. “I keep pinching myself so I know it’s real and not just a dream. How did I get so lucky?”

I wrap my arms around her and hug her tight. “Dr. Brown’s the lucky one and don’t you forget it,” I whisper fiercely in her ear. “The two of you were made for each other.”

“We’re thinking about a summer wedding,” she gushes. “Just a small wedding with some friends, maybe a dinner reception.” She pulls away slightly, breathless with excitement. “And naturally, I want you to be my maid of honor. Oh, please say yes, Patty. I couldn’t bear it if you weren’t there with me.”

“Yes, yes, of course I’ll be there, you silly girl.” I hug her for another minute, filled with a bittersweet sadness at the thought of Priscilla walking down the aisle to meet Dr. Brown. I love her so much, and I don’t begrudge her one bit of happiness. She deserves everything good life has to offer.

But what about me?

“And guess what? Harold wants to keep the house.” Her eyes shine bright and luminous. “He promised me that we can live here for the rest of our lives, if that’s what I want.
Whatever makes you happy
, he said. Oh, Patty, can you believe it? I won’t have to move. And here’s the best part: he’s offered to buy you out.”

My throat tightens. “What do you mean?”

“Harold will purchase your share of the house. You always said you wanted to move and now you have your chance. You’ll be free to do whatever you want, whenever you want, without me around to bother you.”

“Don’t say that. You’re not a bother. You’ve never been a bother.” I bury my face in her shoulder. My world is crumbling fast. Snubbed by Sam, Priscilla getting married, and soon I’ll be homeless. How much can one person handle? If I’d known the day would turn out like this, I never would have climbed out of bed.

“Patty, what’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy.”

“I am happy.” I dig deep and somehow manage an enormous smile. Priscilla deserves nothing but the best. How can I deny her? “The two of you are going to be so happy. Dr. Brown is the perfect man for you.”

“Is it the house?” A frown flits across her face. “You don’t have to move, Patty, not if you don’t want to. I just thought… I mean, you’ve always said—”

“Don’t be silly, of course I want to move.” I swipe away the last of my tears and force a laugh. “You know how I feel about this house. Now I can buy that little condo I’ve always wanted. Who knows? Maybe I’ll even take a vacation,” I add. “It’s time for me to splurge. Live a little.”

But with who? And for what? Life isn’t much fun, going it alone.

“Harold’s coming over for dinner tonight. We want to start making wedding plans. We want you to help us.”

“Sorry, but I have plans tonight,” I lie.

“But… but this is my wedding, Patty.” Her face droops with disappointment. “Are you sure you can’t break your plans? I need you.”

“I’ll be there through everything, I promise. Just… not tonight.” I can’t face this much happiness tonight.

“If it’s the house—”

“It’s not the house.” My hand lingers on the smooth, polished railing as I climb the stairs. How many times did I slide down this banister with Priscilla standing lookout from above, watching in case Mama showed up? The two of us had so much fun together growing up in this house. It’s all we’ve ever known. Being with Priscilla is all I’ve ever known. She’s my other half. It’s always been the two of us. But from this day forward, it will never be the same. Dr. Brown will make it three.
And three’s a crowd.

The two of them will have each other and I’ll have me.

I kick off my shoes and flop on my bed, stare at the ceiling. Never in a million years would I have dreamed that my sweet fussy Priscilla, ever the hypochondriac with her box of Kleenex and allergy pump, would end up married. But her marrying Dr. Brown is the perfect solution. He’ll treat her like a pampered princess. She’ll have her own personal physician on call twenty-four seven. And as for me…

My gaze wanders the tiny room. In a few months, this won’t be my bedroom anymore. I never thought it would be so hard, saying good-bye. No matter how much I’ve groused about this house, it’s always been home. I swallow over the sudden lump in my throat. I am not going to cry. And I am going to move. Priscilla and Dr. Brown deserve their privacy.

She mentioned a summer wedding. Summer isn’t far off.

And neither are my tears.

I sniff louder, blink harder, hug my pillow tight. Crying won’t solve anything. A plan of action, that’s what I need. Plus, I’ll need to start house hunting soon. I need to be careful about what I buy. And if there’s any leftover money, it should be invested.

The irony of it all puts a smile on my face. Invest the leftover money? As if I have any clue how to go about investing.

But someone else does.

My stomach twists as the idea tumbles around my mind. How can I call him? Sam knows I was in his office last week. He knows I asked to see him and he never bothered to call me back. It’s obvious our relationship is over, and I can’t say I blame him. I hurt him beyond belief. He knows I was embarrassed by how he looks. And for me to treat him so horribly? To be so rude and insensitive? To say the things I said? No wonder he doesn’t want anything to do with me. I can’t call him. It’s too late. We haven’t talked in months.

It’s never too late
, a little voice tugs at my heart. Isn’t that what I tell my students? Teacher of the Year would never admit defeat. Teacher of the Year would find a way.
It’s never too late. Never too late. Never too late.

I sit up in bed, stare at the phone. Maybe if I beg him, Sam will at least agree to listen to what I say. That I’m sorry. That I miss him.

That I love him.

Love
. Sam loved me all along but I pushed him away like kicking off the weight of a heavy blanket on a hot summer night. But tonight the truth wraps itself around me like a warm cozy comforter. There’s no need to throw away these feelings. I love him. I miss him. The laughs we shared, the easy conversation, the moments we spent in each other’s arms.

His soft little moustache and the way it tickled when we kissed.

Love?
Yes, I love him. I’ve always loved him. And now I can finally admit it to myself. But admitting it to Sam is an entirely different thing. I wouldn’t blame him if he doesn’t take my call. Maybe his feelings have changed. Maybe they haven’t.

But I will never know unless I try.

I grab the phone before I lose my nerve and punch in the number. The phone on the other end begins to ring and I empty my mind to only one thought.
Don’t hang up. Don’t hang up. Don’t hang up.

I hold my breath, wait through the first ring, the second and the third, only to finally hear Sam’s voice. A deep rumbling hello, followed by the click of an answering machine. The message is brief but friendly, inviting the caller to leave their name and number. I rack my brain as the beeps start. I never planned on chatting with a machine. I want to talk to Sam. Maybe I should hang up.