"Good idea," Laura said, heading to her office. "I'll check my schedule and start making calls."
Two days earlier, while enjoying a quiet Saturday night with Duane, Laura received a phone call from Constance Canfield telling her that John, whilst trying to trim a tree, had fallen from the ladder and broken his leg. His prognosis was good, but until the hip-to-toe cast was removed, returning to work was impossible. After visiting John in the hospital and being told she was now in charge, Laura spent the rest of the weekend making notes, checking her schedule and calling her staff to inform them of John's accident, leaving Duane to fend for himself. He was not happy.
With Irene's help, before she left work Monday evening, Laura knew what the rest of the week would bring, and it wasn't good. Having already cancelled all the appointments she felt were inconsequential, when she looked at what was left, Laura sighed. It was going to be a very, very long week.
Four days later, Laura looked at the reports piled on her desk, and debated only for an instant before stuffing them into her briefcase and grabbing her jacket. Having spent the whole week coming in early and staying late, she was finally making a dent in the combined workload. Sorting out John's share of the monthly reports had taken her the entire day, and even though there was still more to be done, as far as Laura was concerned, it could be done at home. The idea of having her tired feet propped on a pillow with a glass of wine at the ready as she shuffled through the rest of her paperwork sounded heavenly.
Getting into her car, she turned the radio off as she pulled out of the car park, enjoying the silence and the sound of the tires on the road, and by the time her house came into view, she was relaxed and looking forward to a quiet night. Pulling into her drive, she noticed Duane's car parked on the street and her shoulders fell. Momentarily regretting that she had ever given him a key, she pushed away her annoyance and gathered her things. Climbing out of the car, Laura schlepped up the walk and into the house.
Duane was coming off a very bad week. As a matter of fact, it was the fourth in a row. As a car salesman at a high-end dealership in London, he normally could hold his own, selling more than his fair share of shiny imports without blinking an eye, but the tide had turned, and he was stuck in the undertow.
Like most commissioned salespeople, he took the first week in stride. Customers come, customers go, and customers change their minds-that's life, so he sat back as others sold vehicles and smiled politely. He knew things would change soon enough. He knew his time would come, or at least that's what he thought.
Another week passed and then another, and with no sales to his name, when his manager asked Duane to cover while another salesperson was on holiday, Duane leapt at the chance. Knowing Laura would be working extra hours in John's absence, he walked into the dealership on Monday morning with his head held high, confident that he would sell a car. Unfortunately, Mother Nature had other plans. With an entire week of rain washing away any possibility of selling an automobile, Duane spent the last four days in a desolate car showroom, doing only one thing...looking forward to Friday night.
Hearing the front door open, Duane bounded down the stairs. "How long will it take you to get ready?"
"What are you talking about?" Laura said, tossing her things on a chair.
"We're meeting Seth and Julie at the pub."
"Oh, sweetheart, I wish you would have called me first."
"I texted you hours ago."
Furrowing her brow, Laura pulled her mobile out of her handbag. "Shit. I turned it off. I had meetings all day."
"Well, no worries. Just get changed and we'll head on over. I've had a hell of a week, and I need to unwind."
"Duane, I'm sorry, but I can't. I have work to do. Go without me."
"This is really becoming annoying. Do you know that?"
"Sweetheart, please don't start," she said as her head began to pound. "You know John's out with a broken leg, and we have four new women coming in on Monday. I have to get the job notices sorted and their class schedules-"
"And I want to go out with you and meet some of our friends for a drink!"
When Laura was a child, her hair was the color of a dark chili pepper, and her temper was just as spicy; however, as she grew older, the deep red gradually faded to a medium auburn. Unfortunately for Duane, that was the only thing that had faded.
"What the hell is your problem?" she shouted. "From the minute I took this job, all you've done is bitch and whine about it, and frankly, Duane, I'm tired of hearing it."
"I hate your bloody job!"
"Well, I don't care, because I love it!" Laura said, placing her hands on her hips.
"I have no idea why you continue to waste your time trying to help criminals," he said, walking away.
"What did you say?"
Spinning around, he said, "You heard me. Seriously, Laura, those women aren't going to make a difference in this world, so why the hell are you wasting your time?"
"Good point," Laura said, quickly turning on her heel and stomping into the lounge. Picking up his jacket, she searched through the pockets until she found his keys. Removing one, she placed the rest back in the pocket and calmly walked over and held out the coat. "Take it and get out."
"Laura-"
"I said get out, Duane, because you're absolutely right. I am wasting my time, and I have no intention of wasting any more of it. Now please leave."
For a few seconds, he tried to stare her down, but when Laura didn't even blink an eye, he snatched the jacket from her hands and stormed out of the house.
A short time later, after a long bath and healthy dose of Pinot Noir, Laura padded down the stairs wearing her favorite flannel pajamas and a grin. Making herself a sandwich, she refilled her glass and sauntered to the lounge where she plopped on the sofa and opened her briefcase. Diving into her work, two hours later, she poured herself another glass of wine to celebrate her progress. Picking up the list she had made, Laura merrily began to check off item after item, but when she read the last notation, her heart sank.
"Shit," she moaned, reading the note again. "Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit!"
Under the misconception that the names given to coffee actually meant something, Laura was half-tempted to turn her car around and return what was left of her Fog Lifter to her local coffee shop. Since discovering which report had yet to be completed, sleep had eluded Laura the entire weekend. With her thoughts solely on Toni Vaughn and how the troubled teacher was going to react to the news, even with the help of alcohol, Laura had spent two nights tossing and turning, trying to think of a way out. The last thing she wanted to do was to intrude upon the fragile existence of the woman, but the monthly class reports were mandatory. Laura didn't have a choice.
Still in the shadows of Monday's dawn, Laura pulled into her parking space at Calloway. The lot was empty except for a rundown Jeep, dented and scratched. Parked where it always was, nearest the rear exit of the school, it could have been easily mistaken for an abandoned vehicle, if it wasn't for the parking permit affixed to its windscreen.
Barely acknowledging the night watchman as she walked into the building, Laura dropped her things in her office and then slowly climbed the stairs. The classrooms were dark save for one, and the only sound she could hear was the hum of the fluorescent fixtures dangling from chains above her head. Silently, she walked to the classroom, and pausing in the open doorway to gather her thoughts, Laura gazed at the teacher who was not yet aware that she wasn't alone.
She looked unaffected. Normal. Relaxed, and shuffling through papers while she sipped coffee from an insulated mug, Toni Vaughn could have been any teacher, in any school, anywhere. But Laura had read her file and knew she wasn't just any teacher. After her dinner with John, Laura had rushed home that night and turned her house upside down until she found the two books by one A. L. Vaughn.
Pulling the dog-eared paperbacks from the shelf, Laura flipped them over, wondering if there was a photograph of the author, but only a brief synopsis and some reviewer's quotes filled the back cover. Most likely found under the heading of Education and Reference in bookstores, one had been written with the student in mind and the other, the teacher.
Inside, the pages were filled with helpful hints, guiding the undergraduate and the novice educator through their first years at university. The author spoke of what to expect, what not to expect and what could be achieved, and through the words, wit and guidelines they contained, both books had eventually become bestsellers in the world of academia. As Laura flipped through the pages, she smiled at the notes she had written in the margins years before. Pausing to reread a few paragraphs she had highlighted and underlined, she remembered why she liked the books so much. They had helped her learn, and they had helped her study, but more importantly, they had helped her teach. As she stood in the hallway still watching the woman sitting behind the desk, Laura wondered if a book existed that could possibly help Toni Vaughn.
As minds do, Laura's continued to wander, and seeing Toni hunched over her desk, Laura realized that she had yet to see the woman's eyes. Were they blue or were they brown? Did she ever wear glasses? Did she ever smile? Did she have friends? Was there someone special in her life that helped her, took care of her...loved her? Silently admonishing herself, Laura cleared the thoughts from her mind. It wasn't her place to worry or even care about Toni Vaughn the person. Laura had a job to do, and right now it involved one of her teachers, simple as that. Taking a deep breath, she walked into the room, and in a fraction of a second, Toni Vaughn went rigid. Placing her hands palm down on the desk, she sat like a statue, stiff and mute.
"Hiya, Toni," Laura said quietly as she moved closer, but when she saw the woman pale, Laura came to an abrupt stop. Pausing for a moment, she turned around and took a seat at one of the desks nearest the door. Keeping her tone low and calm as if she was speaking to a frightened child, Laura said, "I don't know if you've heard, but John broke his leg last week." Seeing Toni's infinitesimal nod, Laura said, "So he won't be able to sit in on your classes for a while."
Laura didn't think it was possible, but Toni became even more rigid. The muscles in her neck grew taut as her spine stretched to its limits, and Laura felt horrible. This wasn't what she wanted, but there was no other way. "Toni, I'm sure John told you that eventually I'd be the one monitoring all the classes, and due to his accident, it's going to be sooner than expected. I came up to let you know that I'll be sitting in on your one o'clock reading class today."
As she sat staring at the top of her desk, Toni tried to think of a way out. The only things they couldn't destroy were her mind and her love of teaching. Even though the option to quit was hers, if she quit, it meant they had finally won, and she was not yet willing to let that happen.
Quickly, she glanced up to look at the stranger who would soon be interfering in her world and invading the sanctity of her classroom. By the sound her thick heels made on the tile floors, Toni had pictured a woman of John's age, and although she found the woman's Scottish accent compelling, it hadn't been enough to acknowledge her existence.
A brief glimpse was what she had intended, but when Toni raised her eyes, they widened at the sight of the woman who, for the moment, was looking in the other direction. Where she had expected to see gray hair twisted tightly into a chignon, Toni found hair the color of chestnut. Shimmering in the brightness of the classroom lights, the finely-textured style was modern and just long enough to brush the woman's shoulders. And even though a quick glance at her footwear confirmed that it was heavy-heeled, Laura MacLeod could not have been more than thirty years old. Doing her best to safeguard herself from the ugliness of the world and the pain of memories etched into her soul, Toni had forgotten the definition of beautiful...until now.
Laura waited in silence, not even looking in Toni's direction for fear her stare would only further add to the stress she knew she had just created. Convinced that she would continue to be ignored, Laura decided to leave the woman to her thoughts and her anxieties. Rising from her chair, she headed to the door.
As Laura stood up, Toni cast her eyes down again, startled that she had allowed herself so much time to be exposed, but when she heard Laura move toward the door, Toni found it impossible to remain silent any longer. Looking up, she snapped, "And if I don't want you here?"
Laura's forward progress stopped when she heard Toni speak for the first time. Her tone was low, almost sultry, and her accent crisp and educated, but the cultured timbre could not mask the sound of the woman's annoyance. Laura heard it loud and clear, and for a split-second, she almost responded in kind, but then she remembered who she was dealing with. "Unfortunately, we don't have a choice," she said, turning around. "I'm sorry."
"Don't you mean I don't have a choice?" Toni growled, her hands now clenched in white-knuckled fists.
"Look, I know this is making you uncomfortable, and like I said, I'm sorry. I truly am, but there's no way around it. I'll just sit at the back of the room and listen. You won't even know I'm here. I promise."
By Friday, Laura was ready to scream. Even though she was filled with compassion for the woman whose soul had been stolen by immoralities unknown, each afternoon when Laura left Toni's class, she wanted nothing more than to return and throttle the hardheaded teacher.
Spying Susan Grant sneaking out the back door to grab a smoke, Laura quickly followed her into the late afternoon sun. Motioning at the pack of cigarettes in Susan's hand, Laura asked, "Do you mind?"
Surprised to find a kink in the woman's perfection, Susan raised an eyebrow as she handed Laura the pack. "Rough day?"
"Rough bloody week!"
"What's going on? I thought you had a handle on everything."
"Yeah, everything except Toni Vaughn!" Laura said, quickly lighting the cigarette.
"Toni? What in the world did she do?"
"It's what she hasn't done. That's the problem!"
"Sorry?"
Laura took another drag of her cigarette, exhaling the smoke as quickly as it went in. "All week long, I've sat in her one o'clock reading class, and every bloody day all she's had her students do is read."
"Isn't that what they're supposed to do?"
"No, you don't get it. She's having them read to themselves. No discussions. No talking. No nothing!"
Unable to hide her amusement at Toni Vaughn's cleverness, Susan snickered. "Oh my."
"Susan, if she keeps this up, what am I supposed to do about the reports?"
"I suppose you could lie and fill them in without actually seeing her teach. I mean, everyone knows she's fantastic."
"I thought about doing just that, but it doesn't cure the problem. What happens next time or the time after that?"
"Yeah, I guess you're right. When are the reports due anyway?"
"Today by five," Laura said, angrily stubbing out her cigarette.
"Ouch. Talk about pressure."
"I know."
"So, what are you going to do?"
Yanking open the door, Laura said, "The only thing I can do. Spend the next hour watching as a classroom of women read to themselves, and after that, who the hell knows!"
Stomping up the stairs, Laura entered the empty classroom, and glancing at her watch, she was surprised to find out she was early. She was even more surprised not to find her stubborn English teacher already glued to her chair as had become her custom. Heading to the back of the room, Laura took the seat she had occupied the entire week and opened her shoulder bag. Pulling out the same form she had placed on the desk for the past four days, she sighed seeing the notes and comments columns still as empty as they were on Monday. Hearing a noise in the hallway, Laura looked up just as the defiant Toni Vaughn strode into the room, walked to the blackboard and picked up a piece of chalk.
The scenario being all too familiar, Laura found herself looking at the teacher instead of the day's reading assignment. Lanky and obviously underweight, Toni's clothes only added to her emaciated appearance. Bunched around her waist by a belt pulled tight, her trousers were the same ones she had worn earlier that week. The once dark brown fabric, faded by washings, had turned to an earthy tan and the cuffs were ragged with threads dangling. Her oversized Oxford shirt had also morphed into another color, age bleaching its pastel yellow to cream, and the collar of the black T-shirt she wore underneath was frayed and stretched. As far as Laura could tell, Toni wore no makeup and the only jewelry in view was a wristwatch, and to complete her ensemble, barely visible under her trousers, were trainers, original color unknown.
As the students began shuffling into the room, Laura couldn't help but hear their collective groan as they glanced at the board to read the order of the day. Wearily dragging themselves to their desks, they slid into their chairs, making comments back and forth, all of which were loud enough for both Toni and Laura to hear.
All week Toni had tortured herself and her students with reading assignments, with no instruction, no discussion and no hands-on approach. The night before, she had sat in her darkened flat and opened the bottle to smell the aroma of death. There were other classes, other students being shown the way through her knowledge, patience and skill, but this was the class that kept her alive. This was what allowed her to sleep at night and rise the next morning. The first time she had seen the face of one of these adults finally able to read a sentence on her own, Toni knew this was the reason she had survived.
Still facing the chalkboard, Toni closed her eyes and filled her lungs to capacity. Dormant for years, emotions were beginning to rise to the surface, and due to Laura MacLeod's tenacity, anger was the first to arrive. Determined, Toni turned to face her class, glaring fiercely in Laura's direction for only a second before she began to speak, and she began to teach.
For the next hour, Laura sat mesmerized by the talented teacher, watching as Toni lectured, listened, and guided her students through their lesson, patiently dealing with each and every question regardless of its intellect or ignorance. So in awe of what she was witnessing, when Toni signaled that the hour-long class had come to an end, Laura found herself saddened that the time had gone by so quickly.
The students left as they had arrived, a group chattering and teasing amongst themselves, and within a few minutes, the room was empty except for two. Toni stood to erase the blackboard, praying that Laura wouldn't feel it necessary to talk, and when she heard the door close, Toni bowed her head and sighed in relief. Placing the eraser on the shelf, she turned to gather her things and her jaw dropped open. In the middle of her desk, sitting atop a stack of papers, was a shiny red apple.
Chapter Four.
"Well, it's about bloody time!"
Kris glanced at the number on the door and then back at the woman standing in front of her. It was the right apartment. It was the right person, but it was the wrong attitude. Loaded down with groceries, she stumbled into the flat. "I'm...I'm sorry," she said, tilting her head to the side as she stared at Toni. "The store...the store was busier than usual."
"Whatever," Toni said, disappearing into the lounge.
Confused, surprised and somewhat tickled by Toni's demeanor, Kris quickly headed to the kitchen to put away the groceries. Noticing two empty beer bottles on the counter, she called out, "Are you pissed?"
"Get bloody real!" Toni yelled back. "It takes a hell of a lot more than three sodding beers to get me drunk. You know that."
Standing in the kitchen, Kris smiled. It had been years since she had seen even a glimpse of the woman she used to know, but as she listened to Toni mumble to herself while she stomped about the lounge, all the wonderful memories came rushing back. Gathering the bottles, Kris picked up the empty crate and then stopped. She closed her eyes and whispered, "I don't know what's happening, God, but whatever it is, please let it keep happening."
A minute later, Kris returned to the lounge, and noticing the beer crate in her hands, Toni asked, "Do you have time to get some more?"
"Absolutely," Kris said, walking to the door. Pausing for a second, she said, "Um...have you eaten? I could always grab us a pizza while I'm out, if you'd like."
"No."
Krista's shoulders fell. "Oh, okay,"
"No, I mean I haven't eaten, and a pizza sounds good. That is, unless you need to get home to Robin?"
Krista's bright blue eyes became even brighter, her cheeks turning rosy as her face lit up with joy. "I'll call her and let her know I'll be late," she said, rushing to the door. "Be back in a tick."
An hour later, Toni had consumed over half the pizza and another two bottles of beer while Krista watched in stunned silence. After carrying the empty box into the kitchen, Krista's curiosity finally won out. Returning to sit next to Toni on the sofa, she blurted, "Toni, what's going on?"
"What do you mean?"