Page 12 of The Teacher
When I get home, I’m relieved to find Nate’s car is in the driveway. I don’t have to sit at home and wonderwhen he’ll be back for a change. And when I get inside the house, I smell tomato sauce wafting from the kitchen. He’s even gotten dinner started.
I hang my purse on the coat rack like I always do and wander into the kitchen. Nate is standing in front of the stove, the sleeves of his blue dress shirt rolled up as he stirs the contents of a pot on the stove. I imagine an alternate reality where I had to tell Nate I was arrested for shoplifting. Thank God I didn’t go through with it.
Nate notices my presence in the kitchen, and he looks up with a smile for me. He is so incredibly handsome when he smiles. Even after all this time, I still think so. Who wouldn’t?
“I got dinner started,” he tells me. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not,” I say. “I’m glad you did. You’re so thoughtful.” I smile back at him, although I recognize my own smile doesn’t have as much impact as his does. “I have the best husband ever.”
He laughs and turns his attention back to his pot of tomato sauce. “I’m pleased you think so.”
Something stirs inside me. Maybe it’s all the adrenaline from almost getting caught stealing those expensive shoes, but suddenly, I want Nate. I want him right now, even though it’s not the first Saturday of the month.
I come up behind my husband, sliding my arms around his firm chest. I lower my lips onto the back of his neck. “Nate…”
He laughs again. “Eve, what are you doing? I’m trying to cook us a feast here.”
“I’ve been thinking about you all day.” My handsmove south, even as his body stiffens. “Maybe you can take a break from cooking dinner…”
Gently, he disentangles himself from my embrace. I get a distinct jab of déjà vu. “Darling, I’m starving. Let’s have dinner first, okay?”
“Okay.” I don’t attempt to wrap my arms around him again, but I stay close, my hand on his shoulder. “After dinner then?”
“Right after devouring a big plate of ziti? That hardly sounds sexy.”
Of course. Yet another excuse. I’m not even surprised at this point.
He leans in to kiss the tip of my nose. “Later tonight. I promise.”
“You promise?”
His laugh sounds hollow this time. “My God, you’re making it sound like I don’t want to make love to my own wife! It’s just been a long day, and I want to have some dinner and relax with a book, you know?”
And that will be his excuse later, when I reach for him tonight in bed.It’s been a long day and I’m tired. Tomorrow, okay, Eve?Perhaps there will even be a headache involved. There’s a point when it becomes humiliating to even ask, and he knows that. He’s counting on it.
Chapter Ten
ADDIE
In all myyears of taking gym in high school and middle school, I’ve worked up a sweat maybe five times.
The only time I get sweaty is when they make us do laps. But anytime we’re playing some sort of sport, I manage to avoid any type of major physical exertion. It’s my greatest skill. What can I say? I’m not much of an athlete.
Today we were playing volleyball, which is a great sport if you just want to sit around and not do much. Like, I’m sure if I were making any attempt whatsoever to connect with the ball, I’d get sweaty. But it’s pretty easy to stand in the corner and pretend you’re trying to hit the ball when you’re really not.
Unfortunately, our gym teacher, Mrs. Cavanaugh, makes us have a shower after gym, whether we got sweaty or not. And that, by far, is my least favorite part of gym.
If I looked like Kenzie Montgomery, who incidentallyis in my gym class, I might not mind public showering. But unfortunately, I look like me, so my goal for post-gym showering is to get in and out as quickly as possible. If I could get in and out of the shower without having to get wet, that would be ideal.
Unfortunately, the second I strip off my gym clothes by the lockers, a burst of giggles comes from behind me. I quickly grab my towel and wrap it around myself, but the giggles continue. I whip my head around to find Kenzie and one of her buddies staring at me.
It’s been about two weeks since school started. Unfortunately, my social life has not improved one bit. Everybody is still avoiding me like the plague, except apparently to laugh at me while I am in the locker room.
Kenzie and her friend won’t stop giggling as they stare at me. I don’t know what is so hilarious. I mean, yes, my towel is being held up by practically nonexistent boobs. But I’m not sure that’slaugh out loudfunny.
“Addie,” Kenzie says. “You know, there are these things calledrazors…”
Well, at least now I know what she’s laughing at. I look down at my legs sticking out from under the towel, and admittedly, they are pretty hairy. As soon as September hit, the temperature dropped precipitously in western Massachusetts, and because I haven’t had the opportunity to wear shorts (I wore leggings today in gym), I haven’t bothered to shave. I may not shave the entire winter. Why should I? It’s not like I have a boyfriend who is going to be looking at my legs.
