Page 24 of A Chance at Forever
As they heaped their plates, Jonica remarked, “It’s going to be an exciting school year.”
“I hope so.” Victoria helped herself to a scoop of potato salad. “I’m a little worried about meeting the kids for the first time tomorrow.”
“Don’t be. You’ve got this, Tori.”
Victoria heard the words, but the sound of feminine laughter drew her attention. Rusty stood a few feet away surrounded by a bevy of young women. He wore standard coach’s garb: royal blue knit shorts and a gold T-shirt emblazoned with the Bears’ logo. She’d only seen him from a distance at school during the week, but this close, she noticed he’d lost weight. As she left school in the afternoons, she’d seen the football team running drills on the practice field. He must be sweating off the weight, though he didn’t seem any less muscular.
When Rusty flashed a dazzling smile at his worshippers, Victoria cringed. So reminiscent of Alan Richmond! She turned away and bumped into Jeff who’d come up behind her. He offered to carry her plate as she pulled a bottle of water out of a cooler.
As they headed toward their spot with the Lawrences and Houstons, Jeff asked, “I saw you looking at Rusty. Have you met him yet?”
“Yeah, we’ve met. In Colorado, believe it or not.” Victoria related how she’d run into Rusty at the diner in West Bend. “Imagine my surprise when you told me he lived next door.”
The sarcasm in her tone wasn’t lost on Jeff. “You don’t like him?”
“Not particularly, no.”
Relief eased the tension in his body. Victoria sensed Jeff considered Rusty a rival for her. “Well, that’s a switch. Every woman in Marysville, no matter her age, adores him.”
“Of course. But I’m not a fan of the Broncos.”
Jeff threw his head back and laughed.
*
Early Tuesday morning,Victoria dressed in a navy A-line skirt and a matching jacket. Underneath she wore a crimson camisole. She slipped her feet into a pair of pumps and turned toward Bud who watched her intently.
“How do I look?”
Hewoofedhis approval. Once he’d learned to expect Victoria at a certain time in the afternoon last week, Mia didn’t have to check on him anymore.
“Thanks, Bud.” She rubbed his head.
With her stomach churning so badly, all she could do was swallow a cup of black coffee and hope she made it through the day.
Upon entering the main office, Victoria greeted Patsy and a few colleagues as she headed for her mailbox. She removed a bulky envelope of information for her homeroom, and standing off to one side of the mailroom, she perused the instructions for the day.
“I’d be happy to review that information packet with you, Victoria.”
At the rich, deep sound of Rusty’s voice, she froze. Keeping her back to him, she replied, “No, thank you.”
“You’re angry with me.”
She spun around to face him and wished she hadn’t. He towered over her in gray dress pants, a light blue short-sleeved shirt and a gray tie. Rusty carried a briefcase in one hand, and his jacket slung over his other arm. “Why do you think I’d be angry with you? Because you pretended not to recognize my name? Because you deliberately toyed with me?”
He stepped closer to her. The scent of his aftershave assaulted her senses and stirred butterflies in her stomach. “I said your name sounded familiar, remember? I didn’t put two and two together until later that night. And I didn’t mean to toy with you. I don’t like to advertise my past. It complicates things.”
Victoria tossed her head. “Is that right? Well, Mr. Sinclair, I can assure you I don’t care a fig for you or your past. Please excuse me. I need to get to my classroom.”
He allowed her to pass but not without the last word. “Have a great day, Ms. Lockridge.”
Have a great day, indeed!Victoria hurried to her classroom, rattled by her encounter with Rusty. As she settled behind her desk, his dull emerald-green eyes and the dark shadows beneath them struck her as odd. The bell rang, signaling homeroom, and she shoved thoughts of Rusty to the darkest recesses of her mind.
Victoria stood outside her room and directed lost students until the tardy bell rang ten minutes later. Then she closed the door, took a deep breath, and faced the bored expressions of her juniors. That is, the ones who didn’t have their noses buried in their cell phones.
Welcome to teaching in the technological age.
She labeled homeroom a disaster. Nothing she said came out right as she called the roll, stumbled over her words, and tried to fill pregnant pauses with plenty of ‘okays’ and ‘let’s sees.’ The class tuned her out as they either squirmed in their seats or talked to one another as if she weren’t even in the room. She kept plugging along, asking for their attention and wishing the earth would yawn and swallow her into its great depths.
