Page 43 of Endless Southern Love

“It’s . . .” I press the button to flip the camera to show her the parking lot. My car is there, without a flat tire.

“Is that a rose on the windshield?”

I press myself against the railing and lean over to get a better look. “Yes.”

“Wade fixed your car, brought it to your apartment, and left you a rose on the windshield?”

“Yes,” I say quietly.

“Yeah, he loves you and you love him. Just get back with him already.”

“Leslie . . .” I drag her name out.

“Gotta go. I don’t suggest hooking up with Wade in your office.” She hangs up before I can even reply to her comment. There is no way in hell I’d do anything untold in my office. Especially with Wade.

Except, now that the thought is in my head, all these thoughts filter through my mind of me bent over my desk, of me riding him, and him under my desk.

As much as I’d love to drive, I don’t have my keys so I start walking. It’s a nice morning and everything seems to sparkle with the sun and morning dew. A horn honks and a student yells out a good morning to me. I wave, determined to make this a great day despite my reservations. And then another car drives by and hits the puddle in front of me, barely missing me. As much as I want to chuck them the bird, I can’t.

I’m trying not to think that Wade didn’t leave my keys on purpose. Like deep down, I know he’s a good guy. Probably the best of the best out there.

So, why can’t I see him for what he’s worth and stop living in the past?

Because of the curly-haired girl walking into school, with her backpack hanging off one shoulder, smiling with her other classmates.

I don’t know how long I stand out there, staring at the spot where Marigold Jenkins was. When the bell rings, I finally make my way into school, late. Not only did I take the week off, but now I’m late coming into school.

“Good morning,” Jean says when I step into the office.

“Good morning. Glad to see you survived in my absence . . . oh wait, you didn’t. What the hell, Jean?”

She laughs and waves her hand in the air. “I tried. A couple board members got their panties in a twist because they didn’t know where you were, and let me tell you, one of those members should worry about his own life before he worries about others.”

“I don’t even want to know.”

“Just spend some time at Mimi’s.”

“I am not going to loiter at the gas station for gossip.”

Jean shrugs and hands me a stack of papers. On the inside, I groan. I want to go back to the beach and just stay lost in the waves, sand, and everything else that comes with being there.

Reluctantly, I head into my office and start responding to emails. It’s my intent to leave the school board members emails for last. If they want to fire me, so be it. I needed a break.

By the time the lunch bell rings, I’m in desperate need of more coffee and something to eat. Cafeteria food isn’t always my favorite except for days like today when we have pizza.

I enter the cafeteria as most of the younger grades do and place my hand over my stomach to hide the growling. I won’t be able to eat until everyone has had their lunch, which I’m fine with. Today, I’m not on my game. Tomorrow, I’ll have my snacks and whatnot.

My eyes are drawn to Marigold. After a few weeks here, she’s finding her stride. She’s sitting with Rosie Davidson, another student who moved here last year. I watch them for a minute, mostly focusing on Marigold. She’s a pretty little girl, with a bright smile. She seems happy and while I don’t know what brought her to town, she seems well adjusted. It makes me wonder how often Wade saw her outside of the summers because I know she wasn’t here on the weekends.

Was that because of me?

Surely, Wade wouldn’t care. His daughter is his priority. As she should be.

Across the table from Rosie and Marigold, two boys pick on each other. They’re laughing so I let it go, as do my staff. One of us will intervene when necessary. Each time I do a pass over of the area, my eyes land back on Marigold. I can’t take my eyes off her, which probably explains how I miss the beginning of a fight.

We rush over as fast as we can to stop the melee between the two boys who had been picking on each other. Before anyone can get there, a fist flies, hitting Marigold in the side of her head. She cries out and to comfort her, I pick her up and hold her like she’s my child.

With my hand cradling her head, I tell the other staff to send the boys to my office, and that I’ll be there shortly because I have to take Marigold to the nurse’s office. She’s crying and clinging to me as I rush toward the door.

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