Teaching Ms. Riggs. Stephanie Beck
she’s single and I don’t have to fight her off with a stick when she jumps me for bringing her ice cream to her house.” Mark hoped he sounded sarcastic, because the comment she’d made about his butt still crept into his thoughts more than occasionally. “Come on, I just met the woman and honest to God, how many women have I brought home?”
“We aren’t here in the summer,” Thomas pointed out.
“That’s true, and even when you’re nowhere in sight I still strike out. It’s as if the scent of a hormonal, cranky teenager and one right on the cusp of adolescence hangs in the air, and acts like chick repellant.”
Mark had missed the back-and-forth with Thomas. The boy was smart and a joy to be around.
He adored his niece and nephew, but the situation was complicated. That made any serious talk or thoughts of Ben something that required much more time than he’d given it. He wasn’t about to bring in a woman who wouldn’t understand, and frankly he didn’t have the time to date.
“Yeah, like the cow poop isn’t enough to keep the women away,” Thomas teased right back and finally handed over the paper. “Do me a big favor and don’t knock her up your first time out. All the guys like her as a teacher, and you know babies make chicks crazy.”
“Who tells you this stuff?” Mark demanded, laughing out loud. “I’m going to remember all of this crap for your wedding toast in ten years, and it’s gonna be a doozy.”
Thomas laughed back, the threat an old one but a good one. So far Mark had potty training, little league, puberty and early thoughts on the opposite sex as speech fodder.
He left Thomas to finish his homework and headed to the kitchen. He grabbed the old phone hanging on the wall and pulled it to his office slash laundry room, the cord long enough for him to sit at his messy desk with it. He probably should have bought a cordless one years ago, but he liked his old trusty one that worked even when the power was out and never had to be recharged.
“Leave me alone! I’ve talked to the police here, and they will find you, so just leave!”
“Whoa, Ben?” The dial tone was back before he got a reply. He dialed again and the call was answered on the first ring. “Hello?”
“Who is this?”
“This is Mark Dougstat.” He was careful to talk slowly so she understood in case something was wrong. “You left some ice cream in my truck, and we just found it. I was going to ask when would be a good time to bring it by?”
“Oh, sweet Jesus, Mark, I’m sorry. I’ve had some prank phone calls spook me a little, and I overreacted. I’m so sorry.”
“No problem, honey,” he assured her, though the news disturbed him. “A woman living alone in a new city, even if it’s an old one, has to be careful. You’ve called the sheriff?”
“Yes, he’s looking into it since they’ve been threatening. So ice cream, huh? I was wondering what had happened to it. I can pick it up. I mean, you’ve driven plenty on my behalf.”
“No, don’t worry about that. I have to run into town tonight for a meeting. Dropping by won’t be a problem if you’re going to be home.” He was already putting on his fresh sneakers, the urge to get to her and make sure she was okay overwhelming.
“Okay, if you’re sure you don’t mind, I’ll be here.”
“See you in about twenty minutes?” he offered.
“Sure, drive safe.”
Mark was torn between concern and a smile as he walked to the kitchen and hung up. Thomas sat with his sister at the table, both with big bowls of ice cream swimming in chocolate sauce. How those kids stayed so skinny he didn’t know, but his mom said the same about him when he was Thomas’s age.
“Going to see Ms. Riggs?” Thomas asked, and Kira snickered.
“Come on, guys, I just met her. I’m actually just going to stop by for a few minutes before I go to my AA meeting at church.” He smacked his dusty hat against his jeans as he dodged the question.
“Sure you’ve got your meeting, but first you’re going to bring her ice cream and play kissy face and make baby Uncle Marks.” Kira giggled, elbowing her brother in a comradely way.
“Doubt it. She’ll shoot him down right after he delivers the ice cream and send him packing, so she can wash her hair or check her Facebook page,” Thomas predicted. “Then he’ll be back to sweet talking the cows. How’s Rowena doing?”
“One of these days,” Mark muttered as he grabbed his keys, “the circus is going to come around, and I’m selling both of you to it. Thomas, watch your sister. Both of you take showers, and I’ll call on my way home.”
The kids laughed, and Mark smiled at the sound as he headed out the door. Their laughter meant something to him. Something he couldn’t explain. From the first time he’d held Thomas, a wiggly, curious three year old, he’d been in love. The little guy had joined him most days, because Mark’s mom needed a break from the constant duties of caring for her grandchild.
The memory made Mark’s jaw tighten as he started up his truck and rolled down the windows. His sister wasn’t going to win any parenting prizes, that was for sure. Maybe in science, but as far as Mark was concerned she’d dropped the ball with her kids. With the exception of the time immediately following Mark’s father’s death, Mark had taken care of Thomas and Kira, and he had every intention of finishing the job with them.
He pulled up to the curb in front of Ben’s apartment and waved to Steven Redick as he drove by in his latest piece of junk car. That guy was bad news but an old friend. There had been a time Steven had helped him drown some sorrows.
After finding his father crushed beneath a tractor, Mark had let his demons find him and hit alcohol too hard. He’d cleaned up his act after Thomas called him from Paris in tears about his new baby sister not liking her nanny. When the little boy had begged to come “home” Mark had straightened himself up and asked for help.
Almost ten years sober and just thinking about that time made his insides turn cold. It was good he was heading to a meeting tonight. It hadn’t been too long since he’d reaffirmed his commitment to sobriety, but it had been long enough.
He shrugged off the hard thoughts as he headed up the sidewalk for Ben’s apartment, ice cream in hand. There was a line between remembering and learning from the past and living in it. God was always opening new windows, and Mark wasn’t going to miss them by not looking.
The main apartment door opened before he made it to the top of the stairs. He smiled, wondering if God was switching to opening doors for him instead. The thought faltered when he saw Ben. He’d seen her less than twenty-four hours earlier, but she looked ten years older. Her skin was pale, bags were beneath her eyes, and though she tried to smile, he saw right through it.
The phone calls, he remembered. They must have been giving her more of a hard time than he thought.
“Hi.” He smiled and offered her the ice cream. He wanted to hug her and tell her everything was okay. Something made him need Ben to be all right.
“Thanks,” she said and forced a smile. “Um, do you have time for a pop or something?”
From the way she’d completely closed in on herself, he thought she didn’t really want him to accept. He had the time though, and his curiosity was piqued.
“Sure, that would be great.”
She might not want him there, but he had to know what was going on and if he could help. He felt a burst of pride when she opened the main door and motioned him in. He was too emotionally involved with Ben considering their short acquaintance, but even knowing that wasn’t enough to put a cap on what he felt.
He followed her through the hall to her apartment as she apologized for the mess he didn’t notice at all. Papers sat in neat stacks on the table,