Acting Up Page 2

  Sydney studied her face for a beat and then gave a reluctant smile. “I can tell you’re determined. I just hope you know what you’re getting into.”

  “It’s only a few months,” Addison said. “What could happen?”

  Chapter Two

  “Principal Thomas, I demand you do something.”

  Ethan Thomas stopped, hand on the door of his SUV. Great. Mrs. Turney… again. If he’d only left a few minutes earlier. If not for a clogged toilet in the boys’ bathroom, he would’ve already been on his way to pick up his sons. Which wasn’t surprising. There seemed to be a series of clogged toilets disrupting his life lately… or maybe not just lately.

  Ethan could pretend he hadn’t heard the dictatorial voice. Simply jump in his car and escape. But as principal of Covington Falls High, he had a duty to stay and face the music.

  Duty could be a real pain in the...

  Fixing a smile on his face, he turned. A tall, middle-aged woman stood a few feet away, and she was definitely suited up for battle. Blond hair slicked back in some kind of elegant knot, perfectly matched sweater set, pearl necklace, and a perpetual scowl.

  “Mrs. Turney,” he said.

  Ethan knew every one of his students’ parents. It was his business to know. However, some parents stood out from the crowd more than others. Mrs. Turney claimed top honors.

  “What can I do for you?” he asked, as if he didn’t already know. After countless phone calls and a face-to-face ambush – two counting today – there could be no doubt as to what she wanted.

  “I understand you still haven’t found anyone to direct the spring musical,” she said, crossing her arms and regarding him as a queen might when deciding if her poor subject should be beheaded.

  “We’re working on it.”

  “You’ve known your drama teacher will be in China sorting out the adoption of her baby for several weeks. I don’t understand what’s taking so long.”

  “We’re looking for a replacement, but these things take time,” Ethan said, willing himself to remain calm.

  He loved his job for the most part. Loved the kids and the sense of making a difference in their lives. Then there were these days. Raw-sewage-backing-up-into-your-life kind of days. He’d been trying to shovel the mess over the spring musical ever since Mrs. Vanderlin had made her announcement.

  “We’re running out of time,” Mrs. Turney said. “This is my Lisa’s senior year. There must be a show. Her future depends on it.”

  He opened the door. “Don’t worry. There will be a show.”

  “Need I remind you how important the spring musical is to our community?” Mrs. Turney asked. “If you’re not going to take this issue seriously, I will have no choice but to go to the school board.”

  If he had a dollar for every time a parent threatened to go over his head, he’d be a rich man. They rarely carried through. Generally, because he did take care of most problems. Being the star quarterback who’d taken Covington Falls High to the state championship and won didn’t hurt either.

  Championships tended to give a guy hero-status for life, and if he occasionally used such a status for the greater good who could blame him?

  “If you must,” he said. “However, I assure you I am well aware of Covington Falls’ history regarding the spring musical and I will find someone, even if I have to direct the show myself.”

  Mrs. Turney allowed a small, satisfied smile. “Good. I knew you wouldn’t let your students down.”

  “I won’t, Mrs. Turney. They are my number one priority.”

  “Of course.” She patted his arm. “You know I hate confrontations and causing trouble for you.”

  Ethan almost laughed. Who was she kidding? Confrontations and causing trouble for him seemed to be Mrs. Turney’s number one priority.

  “Especially after everything you’ve been through these last couple years,” Mrs. Turney said. “I’ve made allowances because I realize you’ve been under such tremendous strain.”

  Sympathy wrapped in a poisoned arrow. His fists clenched, and he practically bit his lip to keep from showing any reaction.

  “I also realize you would never do anything to jeopardize a student’s future,” Mrs. Turney continued. “Not when your own dreams of a football career were so cruelly shattered before they could be realized.”

  Ethan decided he preferred a confrontation over Mrs. Turney’s version of an apology. Being reminded of all the clogged toilets in his past did nothing to improve his state of mind.

  He nodded, unable to come up with a credible response to such a statement. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m late to pick up my sons.”

  Her eyes clouded. “Of course… those poor sweet boys. You go take care of them now, but don’t forget your duty to the school. We must find a director.”

  “I won’t,” he said, almost vaulting into his car.

  He pulled away fast enough to leave skid marks. Once out on the street, he called his mother.

  “Hello, sweetheart,” she said. “Let me guess. You’re running late.” Ethan could hear the smile in her voice.

  “I hate doing this to you all the time,” he said.

  “Well, if not for the twins, I wouldn’t have an excuse to skip the ladies’ prayer meeting.”

  He winced. “Mom… I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to miss—”

  “Are you kidding?” she said, laughter coming through the phone again. “Do you think I have any inclination to sit there and listen to the latest complaints about their husbands? Makes me want to stand up and yell at them that the alternative — not having a husband to complain about — is devastating.”

  “I understand,” Ethan said. There were days he’d give everything if it meant one more day of having Jenny’s stockings hanging in the bathtub. Or her almost OCD-like organizational tendencies in the pantry. His dad had died of a heart attack a few months before Jenny’s sudden death. He knew his mom felt the same sense of crippling loss. The certainty that nothing would ever be right in the world again. Ethan gripped the steering wheel hard enough to leave marks on his fingers.

  “I know you do,” his mother responded softly.

  “We’re getting to be pathetic. Maybe it’s time we started dating again,” he said, throwing the idea out there as if to test the waters of his own mind. See if he drowned or rose to top.

  “Oh, honey…” His mother breathed.

  An invisible hand clawed up his chest to latch onto his throat. “I know. Me too.”

  Another long pause. Then he took a deep breath. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  “Okay. See you soon.”

  The call ended and the quiet seemed to fill up the car. If Jenny were here, she’d be talking a mile a minute. Telling him every detail of her classes. Which students were doing poorly, which seemed on the brink of trouble, which ones thrilled her by getting the lesson. They could discuss the boys. She would have a surefire way of getting them to eat anything labeled a vegetable. They could pray together when one of the twins suddenly developed a raging fever. They could read Bible stories and teach them about Noah and King David and Jesus himself.

  Except Jenny wasn’t here anymore, and he was trying to be mother and father… and so often failing miserably at both.

  God… I miss my wife. I still don’t understand why you had to take her. I don’t understand why Jason and Carson will never know what an incredible mother they had. I know there was a reason. I just don’t see it. You have to help me. I don’t know what to do to fill this emptiness.

  His hands flexed as he stared out at the empty road ahead of him. Empty like his life. Sometimes he wondered if it wouldn’t be easier to miss a turn and drive right off the road. Then the pain might end… finally… and he could be with Jenny again.

  Out of the corner of his eye, a light caught his attention. Ethan glanced down to see the gas warning gauge had come on. Nothing like the mundane to remind him the world continued to spin. These bouts of self-pity had to stop. He shook hims
elf, trying to clear his mind of such destructive thoughts.

  Maybe the warning light was a message from on high, signaling Ethan needed to get his act together.

  In any case, he’d be another few minutes late picking up the boys. The Gas Up was up ahead. He turned on his signal and pulled up to the pump.

  Chapter Three

  Addison escaped her Malibu beach house in the dead of night, like a criminal trying to skip bail. In the comfort of her sleek, black sports car, she reached her destination three days later. As the road curved, a sparkling lake came into view. Rice Lake, named after one of the founding families of the town. Beyond the small copse of trees to her left was the waterfall that had given the town its name, Covington Falls, which were named after the other founding family. She’d taken the top down on the convertible, and Addison imagined she could hear the water rushing over the rocks, though the falls weren’t big enough to be heard over the purring of the engine.

  The descending sun set the lake’s glossy surface ablaze, and she shielded her eyes from the glare. Ahead was the road, which would take her through town. She hit the brakes, tires squealing against the asphalt. A memory of a little ice cream shop surfaced. Aunt Ruth had taken her there nearly every week. They used to sit at a little iron table on the sidewalk and share a bowl of homemade chocolate chip ice cream. Addison had dined on gourmet desserts made by the world’s best master chefs since then, but none of them had ever been able to match the taste of Scoops & Dips.

  A memory of the sweet taste tickled her tongue, and on a whim, Addison turned the steering wheel to the right. At the intersection of Main Street and 1st Avenue was Covington Park, a grassy little knoll with benches surrounding a multi-tiered fountain. City Hall and the main library formed sentries on either side of the park, and wide sidewalks lined with cute-as-a-button shops fanned out from there. Each storefront sported colorful awnings and creative window decorations celebrating Valentine’s Day. The most romantic day of the year had come and gone she realized with shock. Nothing seemed to have changed. The thought was comforting, and a bit frightening, as if time had stopped at the city limits.

  Then a striped pink and white awning captured her attention. She slowed the car. The cast iron tables remained, though now they were black instead of white. Decorated Valentine’s hearts marched across the window. With one last wistful glance, Addison drove on.

  Leaving the downtown area, Addison noticed her gas gauge was hovering on empty. If she remembered correctly, there was station ahead. Yep, the Gas Up, right where it always had been.

  Her legs protested as she levered herself out of the car. A perusal of the machines revealed Covington Falls had yet to graduate to pay-at-the-pump service. Meaning, she had to go into the store. Hoping to sneak into town undetected, she’d dressed down in her oldest jeans and sweater and pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail. With a sigh, Addison lowered her sunglasses and kept her head down as she walked across the parking lot.

  Inside, a dead ringer for Bo and Luke Duke’s Uncle Jesse manned the register. Addison approached him, pretending to read the cover of a magazine in the rack below the counter in order to avoid direct eye contact.

  Without a word, Addison passed over her money. “Twenty on pump number two.”

  “You don’t have t’ pay first around here,” the cashier said, even as he took the money.

  “I’ll remember for next time.”

  He continued to stare until Addison started to squirm.

  “You’re not from around here, are ya?” he asked.

  “No.”

  His eyes widened, and he slapped his hand on the counter. “You’re Ruth’s lil’ niece.”

  Addison dredged up a smile. “Guilty.”

  He grinned and leaned closer. “The sunglasses gave you away. Made me think you were hidin’.”

  Feeling her cheeks flush, Addison whipped off the sunglasses.

  “Well, didn’t you grow up to be the pretty one?”

  “Thank you.”

  “It’s all over town, your homecoming.”

  “Is it?”

  “Adelle Pruitt over at the hospital was in here the other day.”

  Ah, the small town grapevine. Better communication device than any modern marvel designed. “And she told two friends. And they told two friends,” Addison muttered under her breath.

  “You comin’ for a visit is surely the biggest news in town since Miss Meredith came home from New York. Maybe biggest news ever.”

  She wasn’t sure who Miss Meredith was, but Addison nodded anyway. “Can I still make visiting hours at the hospital?”

  He checked his watch. “If you’re quick.”

  Taking him at his word, Addison hurried outside as an SUV pulled up on the other side of the pump. A man’s leg emerged, encased in dark dress slacks. The rest of him unfolded from the car like a delicious road map. Well over six feet tall, shoulders big enough to make Atlas green with envy, and a full head of blond hair shot with gold and wheat. The dress slacks were topped with a blue shirt, unbuttoned at the collar.

  He was a walking men’s catalogue. When had they started growing gorgeous men in Covington Falls? She’d have come back sooner if she’d known. Her insides did a little twisty thing, which a long dormant part of her brain recognized as attraction.

  They reached the pump at the exact same moment, and he looked up.

  Zap!

  Whoa, had that been in her head? Or a real crackle of electricity?

  He had amazing eyes. A primordial forest with flecks of golden sunlight filtering through the leaves. A person could become lost in those depths. The green eyes widened, and Addison sent him a casual smile. At least she hoped the curve of her lips was casual.

  He stared. She stared. He frowned.

  Like an old abandoned house, his eyes became shuttered and distant. With one more puzzled glance, he veered around her and headed inside to pay. Once he’d gone, Addison took a deep breath.

  Weird. Note to self. Do not flirt with local boys.

  He’d seemed annoyed after the initial yowza moment, which made no sense. She didn’t think she’d imagined the instant connection. Unless he had a Mrs. at home. Addison had been too distracted by his eyes to look for a wedding ring. Perhaps he was ashamed about reacting to another woman. Well, he could rest assured she wouldn’t be making any plays for him in the near future. Or any other man. With a shake of her head, she jumped back in her car and headed to the hospital.

  Her presence at the registration area caused something of a commotion. The two women manning the desk nearly passed out. Everyone else in the vicinity came to a halt, like rubberneckers trying to get a glimpse of a car accident.

  “Hi, I’m here to see Ruth Carlson. I’m her niece,” Addison said. “Can you tell me what room she’s in?”

  Eight people shouted, “I’ll show you!”

  In the end, the youngest and fastest nurse got to Addison’s side first. As they walked down the hall, the nurse kept glancing over out of the corner of her eye. They reached the end of the corridor and stopped in front of one of the rooms.

  Addison flashed a thank-you-but-I-need-to-be-alone smile, and the young woman took the hint. With one last lingering look, she hurried down the hall. Addison opened the door to the room and peeked in.

  An old woman rested in the hospital bed. An old woman who’d somehow taken over her aunt’s body.

  Wires and tubes protruded from her arms and hands. And beeping. Mechanical, methodical beeping from the heart monitor by the bed. Addison’s own heart flipped as she stared. The woman she remembered was robust and buxom, full of life and laughter. Now she was thin to the point of emaciation. Her hands were fragile, covered with paper-thin skin dominated by ribbons of dark-blue veins.

  A wave of shameful heat swept over Addison’s entire being. She’d let so much time slip by. How often had she promised to visit, only to let something else take precedence? A dinner, a charity event, or a vacation?

  As if sens
ing a presence in the room, Aunt Ruth’s eyes fluttered open. For a moment, she seemed confused. Then her eyes widened, and a delighted smile spread across her face.

  “Alice.”

  Hearing her real name on her aunt’s lips was a sweet endearment. No one had ever said it with such warmth or pride – not since her father had died.

  Addison gave up trying not to cry. Aunt Ruth held out her arms and Addison hurried across the room. She hesitated by the bed.

  “You won’t hurt me.” Aunt Ruth’s voice came out thick, guttural, and unused.

  Addison sat on the side of the bed and leaned over. Aunt Ruth’s arms might be thin, but they were still strong. Still able to soothe and protect. Her familiar lemon and sunshine scent washed over Addison’s bruised soul. When Addison would have pulled back, Ruth held on.

  “You had your life to live,” she said. “Dreams to pursue. Don’t ever feel guilty about going after what you wanted.”