Her Imaginary Husband (Contemporary Romance) (4 page)

Nikki hit the snooze button twice before finally getting up to realize she’d never changed into her pajamas. She showered and dressed in six minutes. Grabbing a pair of flats in one hand and her purse with make-up kit in the other, she rushed to the car. There, she slipped on her shoes and applied her mascara while her ten-year-old car warmed up. She studied her reflection. Even in the dim light, she really did look about eighteen years old. Oh well. She’d be thrilled about that when she was forty. All the same, she pinched the skin beside her eyes, willing just a few wrinkles to appear.
Who’ll take me seriously as an authority figure if I look like their lab partner?

Running up the back steps of the school, she ducked her head trying to avoid eye contact with Officer Ross. No luck.

“So, Coach Fallon, are you planning on taking your class running again today?”

“Huh? Oh. No.” She flailed her hand and opened the door. “That’s a special thing for the first day,” she said sheepishly, glancing down at her feet.
Oh. My. Gosh.
She had grabbed mismatched shoes—one black and one blue. Nikki stared heavenward. “What did I ever do to You?”

“What?”

Her gaze snapped back to Ross, and she tried to stand in such a way that her feet were behind her, which resulted in a strange lean that closed the door on his face.

He looked at her through the little window in the door, a bemused smile on his lips.

“Gaaah!” She gargled in frustration and shuffled as fast as she could to room 31.

Ten minutes later, students started arriving, and Nikki could hear them out in the hall. She couldn’t go out there with these shoes! How was she going to teach?

The door across the way opened, and Gayle came out. “Hey, how’d that first day go? And how come you didn’t join us for lunch in the department lounge?”

“We have a lounge?”

She gestured with her thumb at the room she’d just left. “It’s smaller than a walk-in closet, but it’s ours. It’s got a secret stash of Lunchables, too.”

“Lunch! I forgot to pack lunch!”

“Well, you can brave the cafeteria or come hide out with us. See you then? I want to hear all about your first day.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be there.”

“Watch out,” she said, glancing down the hall. “Here comes Trouble.”

Nikki turned to find Will approaching with a lop-sided grin. “You know,” he said, drawing out the word in a long note. “You really are supposed to check your mailbox in the office,
Mrs
. Fallon.” He held out a stack of memos and envelopes to her. Just as she was about to take them, he snapped them back to his chest protectively. “But I am happy to deliver them to you if you ever find yourself running behind schedule.”

Nikki grabbed for them. “Thank you, Coach Carlin. That’s very considerate and totally unnecessary.”

“Just being friendly,
Mrs
. Fallon,” he said with a wink, and he turned to strut away.

Nikki scuffled back into her room and got behind her desk—to hide her feet, of course—and sifted through the stack. Under the announcements and the cafeteria menu was a small, handwritten note.
I hope you’ll still let me take you out to lunch sometimes. W.C.

Nikki stared at the note.
W. C. Will Carlin?! He doesn’t care that I’m married?!
She slammed the papers down with disgust and caught sight of her hands.
The ring! I forgot to get a ring!
She closed her eyes and put her head down. This was going to be a long day.

“Do we need to go running, Ms. Fallon?”

“Is that you, Sammi?” asked Nikki, not moving.

“Yeah.”

“How about you just crack open a window?”

“That works, too.”

Nikki smiled at the students entering and turned away to face the corner while she applied the rest of her make-up. A few minutes later, the final bell rang. The kids seemed to be in a pleasant enough mood, and she hoped that meant she’d done all right the first day. She crooked a finger at Robert, and he approached the desk warily.

“Robert, you seem to be a responsible sort. Is it likely that you’ll get beat up if I ask you to take roll for me every day?”

He pushed his glasses further up his nose and shrugged. “I’m a second degree black belt in Tae Kwon Do, so I doubt it.”

Nikki’s jaw dropped open, which was preferable to snickering.

“I get that a lot,” he said.

“I would
love
to watch the security cams when someone tries to bully you. I bet it’d be YouTube worthy.”

Robert gave what passed for a smile. His was not an expressive face.

Nikki managed to direct the class through a study of the first chapter of
Elements of Fiction
without leaving her desk. However, eventually, someone asked, “Aren’t you going to get up today?”

“She’s feeling sick,” whispered Sammi. “She had her head down before class. It’s probably that time of—”

Nikki shot to her feet so fast that her rolling swivel chair banged into the wall and knocked her decorative photo frame askew. “All right, let’s get this party started!”

A loud scream came from a seat by the window, and three of the fluffier girls started batting at the air hysterically. “A bee! There’s a bee in the room!”

Nikki’s heart jumped, but she forced calm into her voice. “Is anyone allergic?” Inside her head, she was screaming, too.

“I am,” whimpered a very large boy in the middle of the room.

Nikki snatched the yardstick from the tray of the classroom chalk board. “Let’s try to usher it back out the window, shall we?” She lifted the stick, wielding it like a sword. “Mr. Bee, sir. You were not invited.”

“That’s not a bee. That’s a wasp!” said Robert, stepping a little closer to the door.

Crap.

Kids squealed and scraped back their chairs, tipping and leaping to get away from the Two-inch Terror. It circled low over their heads once and then drifted up into the fluorescent lights that hung down on rods from the twelve-foot ceiling. Shaking the yardstick to one side of the wasp, Nikki tried to scare it into moving back towards the window, but it just went higher. Determined to get rid of the wasp, she stepped up onto one of the newly vacated chairs, and from there climbed up to the desk top.

“Go, Ms. Fallon!” shouted one kid.

“Be careful! Don’t fall!” called another.

“Thanks, Mom,” answered Nikki, grimacing in effort. She stepped from desk to desk, knocking a few binders and a Starbucks cup to the floor before she finally caught up with the wasp. Swinging up into the lights, she hit the bug so that it buzzed angrily against one of the suspending cables. “Ha! You’re no match for me!”

The class roared with laughter, and Nikki dropped her arm to look at them. “Oh, come on. It’s not
that
funny.”

They weren’t looking at her. They were looking towards the door where not only Officer Ross, but Principal Geoffreys peeked around the doorsill with alarm.

As she shrank back down to the floor, red-faced, Sammi said, “Did you know that you had one black shoe and one blue shoe, Ms. Fallon?”



“Hey, Nik!”

“Charlie!” Nikki swung her purse over her shoulder and grabbed her keys. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Nik, tell me you don’t talk to your students like that. You’ll kill them.”

Nikki locked her classroom door and walked through the hall. With the students gone, the vastness of the quiet relaxed her, as did any call from her closest brother.

“Okay, brat. How’s this?” She made an angry face with matching gruff tone. “Whaddya want?”

Charlie chuckled. “Oh, I just thought I’d call to see how the big professional is doing.”

“Well, except for wearing mismatched shoes to school—”

“You didn’t!”

“You know I did!”

Charlie laughed. “Nik, I can’t believe they let you graduate middle school!” He sighed. “Seriously, though. How did your first day go?”

“It was yesterday. You missed it.” She released the clip from her hair and shook her tresses free.

“Well, I figured Mom got you yesterday.”

“That she did.”

“How many sentences before she asked about a man?”

“Maybe three. I think I blacked out.”

Charlie laughed, but a weighted silence followed, and Nikki stopped walking.

“What?”

“This is me talking, okay? Mom didn’t put me up to this.”

Nikki’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

“Just…I’m super proud of you, graduating with highest honors and landing a job straight up. That’s awesome.”

Tapping the back of the phone with her finger, Nikki waited for more. “But…?”

“No. No but. Just…” He sighed, and Nikki swept into the office to check her cubby for any last-minute memos. When it proved empty, she waved to the office staff and slid back out.

“But what, Charlie?”

“You’re finally really on your own now, you know?”

“I’ve had my own apartment for two years, Charlie.”

“Yeah, but you’re not a student any more. You’re like a real adult.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Nik, I just mean you can call the shots now. Don’t let Mom bully you, but…don’t let your fears bully you, either.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Look, ever since Craig—”

“That was five years ago, Charlie. Over it.”

“Okay, if you say so. But just don’t give up on the fact that there are nice guys out there. Craig was great, but...”

Nikki nodded, though she knew he couldn’t see her. Craig had been her first love, and his move across the country had left a hole in her heart that none of her following male friends could fill.
Why didn’t he ever call or write?

“You there, Nikki?”

“Yes, Charlie.”

“I love you, Nik. Take care of yourself. Meet some guys, and…you know, just be friends. I’ll come out there in a couple of weeks to see you.”

Nikki pushed open the back door with her shoulder. “I love you, too. Can’t wait to see you!” She hung up, smiling gratefully at the phone that connected her to the sane, loving voice in her life.

When she raised her eyes, Officer Ross was looking at her curiously, his head tilted to one side. “Have a good day, Mrs. Fallon.”

“Thanks, Officer Ross.”
I sure like his voice. Nice and rich.
She trotted lightly down the steps, thinking maybe Charlie’s advice wasn’t all bad.
There might still be some nice guys around.

Nikki ventured across the hall to find Gayle and two other teachers crowded around a tiny square table. Gayle reached behind her to a mini-fridge and pulled out a Pepperoni Pizza Lunchable. Tossing it on the table, she said, “Take a seat! Let’s hear all about it.”

“Uh, which ‘all about it’ do you mean?”

“I want to know why Officer Ross has to keep going to her room,” said a man who resembled a troll doll, but with a wide brown tie and green suit pants.

“Dusty, be nice,” said Gayle. “Nikki, you’ve met Greg Dustin, haven’t you? Ancient of days and crab-apple of your eye.”

Unsure of how to respond, Nikki smiled at him and sat down to the Lunchable.

“The cool Ms. F, I hear,” said the other woman, a pert but plump woman in her thirties or forties with short, spiky hair.

Nikki’s eyebrows popped up. “Really? I have a reputation?”

Dusty snorted. “Kristin is the Merry Sunshine to my Oscar the Grouch,” he said. “And yes, the reputation is out. You are the dreaded F-word.
Fun
. Thanks for ruining it for the rest of us.”

Kristin shook her head. “Dusty, just because cops only visit your class to remove the corpses who died of boredom…”

Nikki choked on a cracker, and Gayle laughed. “We just rib each other, Nikki. It’s all in good fun.” She leaned on her elbow and eyed Dustin. “Fun, Dusty. Try it sometime.” She looked back at Nikki. “He thinks if you teach about old, dead poets, you have to act like one.”

“The dead part,” added Kristin.

Dusty grunted and stuffed a pickle into his mouth. Somehow that seemed fitting.

“So how did I miss the fact you’re married?” asked Gayle, suddenly very chipper. “It didn’t come up in the interview.”

Ooops! I really don’t want to correct that rumor in front of strangers and look like I lied to my superior.
Nikki swallowed hard and looked at a scratch in her fingernail polish. “Didn’t it?”

“I’m pretty sure it didn’t,” she said. “You’ll have to bring him to the faculty barbecue later this month. What’s his name?”

“What? What barbecue?” Nikki felt the heat rising in the room, fanned by guilt and a terrible capacity for lying.

“It was in the memo stack today,” said Kristin.

“Oh, that.” Nikki sagged and blinked away the memory of Coach’s note. “So, did I read correctly that the state standards tests are all taking place during English classes next month? That’s like a week of lost class time.”

“Welcome to the disposable department,” said Dusty. Gayle and Kristin nodded in agreement. Nikki gave him a questioning look, and he continued, “The principal basically believes that all kids need to be able to write is a resume and a business letter. All they need to be able to read is a financial news magazine article and the nutrition information on their breakfast cereal. Everything else we teach in our department is more or less useless in his eyes.”

“Dusty’s right about that one,” said Gayle.

Kristin bobbed her head, sipping a Super Big Gulp of something yellow. “Good luck teaching this year. Between the administrators, the in-services, the parent-teacher conferences, and the sick days, you’ll be lucky to get in a solid twenty weeks of actual teaching.”

“What? But I planned out the whole year!”
I am, after all, a curriculum specialist
, she thought.

“I guess you’ll just have to cut Twain,” said Gayle with a mock sigh.

“Sad, but true,” said Kristin, slurping the remains of her drink and letting out a healthy burp.

Dusty laughed and crumpled his brown paper bag with pasty fingers. “You picked the wrong subject to teach. Should’ve been a P. E. teacher.”

Another cracker attacked Nikki’s windpipe, and Gayle tossed her a box of Kleenex. “Oh, she gets in her running time,” she said with a wink. “Will is making sure of it.”

“Will
again
?” asked Kristin, shaking her head.

“What do you mean, ‘Will again?’ Will
always
,” said Gayle. “This is not to bruise your ego, Nikki, but if you’re wearing a bra and haven’t started receiving AARP pamphlets in the mail, Coach Will Carlin will chase after you.”

“It’s that first part that saves Louise Berrett in the art department,” said Kristin. “The AARP saves Gayle.”

“Har har,” droned Gayle. She glanced at her watch and swore lightly. “I just remembered I have to meet with a kid who wants to apply for yearbook staff. I’ll have to get your report later,” she said with a finger pointed like a gun at Nikki. “I’m kind of interested about the frequency of cops in your classroom, too!” With that, she threw her purse over her shoulder and left.

“Officer Ross,” said Kristin. “Now there’s a nice guy. I think the kids don’t get into trouble with him around because they can’t stand the thought of him looking disappointed in them. The secretaries all have crushes on him, but he says he’s saving himself for Miss Right. I’d go for him if I wasn’t already blissfully married.”

“Yeah,” said Nikki vaguely.

The door opened again, and Will looked in. “Ah, there you are!” he beamed. His intoxicating cologne wafted in. Kristin, whose face was hidden from his view, crossed her eyes and made a gag face. Dusty just stood up and brushed past him to leave.

“Hi. Did you get more of my mail? Tampering with it is illegal, you know,” said Nikki with an uncharacteristic bite to her tone. Her ears burned with embarrassment as she thought of his note.

“No, no. No more mail,” he said, crouching down between Kristin and Nikki and resting his elbows on the table for balance. “I actually wanted to talk to you about David Pembroke.”

Nikki avoided eye contact by looking down, which was worse. His muscular thighs strained at his jeans. She closed her eyes. “Never heard of him.”

“He’s in your American Lit class next period.”

“Oh,
that
David.” She puzzled for a moment. “No, I still didn’t know who you’re talking about because I have yet to memorize many names. Pretty much only the brilliant kids and the obnoxious ones left impressions, so he must be somewhere in the middle.”

“David’s my starting varsity running back.”

“He must be very proud,” cooed Kristin.

“He is,” said Coach. “But he’s not very…”

Kristin tapped Nikki’s shoulder. “I bet Will is here to beg you to go easy on him so he doesn’t get put on academic probation. Am I right, Will?” She said it with a lilting voice that reeked of patronization.

Will expelled a burst of air and stood up. Nikki tried not to watch each passing part and reprimanded herself for failing.
Seriously, why does he have to be so very delicious? Like a poison truffle.

“I’m not saying inflate his grades,” said Will, raising a hand. “Just—”

“He’s saying inflate his grades,” said Kristin. “Riverview is poised for a championship this year in two different sports.” She gathered her things and left as the bell rang to announce five minutes before class started.

Nikki rose and Will took a step back to let her through to the door. “Don’t raise his grades artificially,” he said. “Just…be aware he may need some extra tutoring.”

Acutely aware of being alone with him in the small room, Nikki reached for the handle, but he intercepted her hand.

“If you ever need to stay after school to help David…or anything.”

She felt her breath catch.
Does he really want to help the kid, or…?

Pressing her lips into a firm line, Nikki broke free and grabbed the doorknob. “I’ll keep that in mind, but my husband doesn’t like me working late.”