Chapter 7
Helena
I’m getting the hang of living on a schedule, and as a result, my morning classes pass by in a blur. I’m starting to feel like it’s a privilege to be handling an elective class because I don’t have to worry about the homeroom duties that so many of my coworkers have to deal with. I would imagine that having a whole classroom full of overly hyper, chatty pre-teens first thing in the morning, while I’m waiting for my coffee to kick in, wouldn’t be my favorite thing in the world either.
Most of the other adults that I’m meeting have been teaching at this very school since they graduated college.
I think most of them attended this very school as kids themselves. They’ve probably lived their entire lives in this small town and don’t have any plans to leave it. At least there’s stability in that.
The teachers” lounge isn’t a place of luxury either. There are a couple of tables in the center of the room, and plastic chairs with rusted metal legs sit around them. On the far side of the room is an out-of-order vending machine covered in tape and complete with a handwritten sign. Beside that are a Formica counter and a few cabinets. Sitting on top of it is a stained coffee pot, as well as a dirty-looking microwave next to a basket of slightly overripened fruit. The gym teacher, whose name I cannot remember, is picking at a small side salad while reading the newspaper, and he doesn’t so much as look up at me when I enter the room.
As a woman who was so used to being the center of attention everywhere she went, it’s a hard pill to swallow.
It’s for the best. This is what you wanted. Anonymity.
If I had brought my lunch, I would have fit in better. It didn”t even occur to me because I”m so unaccustomed to cooking for myself. In retrospect, it appears to be a really stupid detail to overlook. I can’t even lie to myself and say it was because of how distracted I was this morning.
I walk over to the only appliance in the room that seems fully functional—and with good reason. The coffee pot seems well-stocked and cleaner than anything else in the lounge. I hesitate when I see the cups. It’s a far stretch from brewed espresso and pour-overs, but beggars can”t be choosers. With a deep breath to steady myself, I pour some into a Styrofoam cup to which I add a hefty helping of sugar. I can already smell how burnt the coffee is, but I’m determined to drink the whole thing anyway. I select a table at random and smooth the skirt of my dress down the back of my thighs as I sit awkwardly in the orange, plastic chair.
It’s so strange to be forced to realize just how extensively you’ve been spoiled when you aren’t anymore. I used to have somebody attending to my every want and need. I never would have had to sit like this because somebody has always pulled my chair out for me or made food for me to eat on their schedule. I got used to following orders while I was with Nikolai. I liked it even. It seems my habits will be harder to break than I originally thought.
Amy, the English teacher, bursts into the break room suddenly.
“Whoops! Sorry all, don’t mind me now.” Her grin fills her whole face as she juggles the many items in her hands. By the time it occurs to me to offer to help her, she’s already deposited her load onto the table I’m sitting at. “You don’t mind if I sit here, do ya?”
I shake my head and gesture to the open chair across from me. “No, please, be my guest.”
I scoot backward as if to leave and find another table, but she places her warm hand on my arm.
“No, sugar, I didn’t mean you needed to give me the table! Oh, what a fine first impression you’re going to have of me. Bursting in here like this, making you think that I’m trying to bully you out of the table you was at first. No ma’am that’s not my intention at all. In fact, if you would be so kind as to fetch me a cup of coffee like you have here, we can chit-chat and get to know one another a little better! Wouldn’t that be nice?” She doesn’t quite make eye contact after she lets go of my arm. She’s already busy pushing at the things on the table and putting them into whatever semblance of ordered chaos that she prefers. She pulls a pen out from behind her ear, and it clatters loudly to the table.
I nod and rise to go fetch her coffee like she asked me to. She talks so fast. I don’t mind helping her, but she also doesn’t seem like the sort of woman who takes no for an answer. She strikes me more like the sort to dress in some elaborately fancy costume for every holiday or school event that happens. Should I do that too? Will that be expected of me? Would I even like doing something like that?
At least she seems nice enough.
I try to imagine what life as her best friend would be like, certainly not the constant binge-drinking and nightclubs that my previous friends and I entertained. No, I imagine Amy is the kindof woman who volunteers at the soup kitchen but spends the entire time people-watching and gossiping. She strikes me as the type of woman who would bring her own food to the movie theater and talk the entire time the movie was playing.
Which isn’t always a bad thing. It’s just different. I need to get better at rolling with the punches. She certainly doesn’t seem like she would judge me even half as much as I’m presently judging her. It’s not fair. I need to think more small-town. I decide that Sofia is the sort of woman who likes to go antique shopping on the weekends. Maybe that will be something that I can use to bond with Amy. If she likes that sort of thing.
I return with the coffee, and she heaves a sigh of relief so palpable it seems like I’ve done so much more for her than just transporting caffeine in her direction. She grabs hold of my arm and pulls me back into my seat forcefully.
“Oh, thank you.” She takes a deep chug of the coffee without even letting it cool down first.
My eyes widen. I’m not sure if I’m impressed or intimidated by the move.
“I needed that, so bad! Those little demons have been running me ragged all day. Each year, I swear they just get wittier and wittier, and sometimes I feel like they’re gonna surpass me when it comes to intelligence. I suppose that’s a good thing, but it doesn’t feel like it. I can hardly keep up with their sarcasm most days.”
She takes another long chug of the coffee before she pauses long enough for me to get a word in.
“How are you settling in, sugar? You liking everything okay?”
She actually waits for my response this time. Her smile never wavers for a second, so it’s hard to tell what she’s actually thinking. Maybe she actually is as kind as she seems.
“I am! Thank you for asking. It’s a really nice change of pace,” I answer quickly.
“Yeah? Was the school you come from not like this one?”
I don’t want to answer that question, so I shrug and buy myself a little time with a slow sip of my own coffee.
“Well, no matter what kind of school you came from before, I suppose you can’t really compare one job to the next.” Amy laughs with her whole chest and pats my arm while doing so. She seems pretty touchy-feely, but since it feels like we’re bonding somehow, I don’t stop her.
“You just need to know that even though we’re a small town where everybody knows everybody, for the most part, all the apples are good. You know what I mean?”
I nod and smile, pushing myself to pretend to be more outgoing than I currently feel. “So, what you’re saying is that I’m the only new blood here this year?”
“Oh hardly! But you are one of… what, three? I think it’s just you, and those pair of boys from the city.” She whistles really low. “Henry is a sweet kid, but his Papa? That is a tall glass of water, I’ll tell you what.”
Daniel is Henry’s father? I suppose that she would know. In spite of myself, I can feel my face flushing pink as my mind happily, and quickly, supplies me with all of last night’s fantasies.
“Oh, honey, I know,” Amy says, gesturing to my blush with one hand. “If I weren’t a married woman, I would be doing the exact same thing that you are right now. He’s probably the most handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on. I will say that to my husband’s face, mind you.”
I decide to take a small risk. “Do you know if he’s single?”
Amy giggles so hard it almost sounds like a cackle. “You minx! I like you already. Well, I don’t know if he’s got a family in the city or anything, but there weren’t any women listed on Henry’s transcript papers—if you know what I mean. No mention of a wife or a baby mama. From what I managed to squeeze out of Principal Martinez, Henry’s poor mother committed suicide.”
“I thought Henry was the guy’s nephew?” the gym teacher interjects flatly from across the room without so much as looking up from his newspaper.
“Oh, you know… you might be right about that one. Yes, that was what it was. He took Henry in after his sister offed herself. Apart from being filthy rich and sweet as sugar, I haven’t heard much else about him yet.” Amy winks dramatically at me. “But I can be sure to let you know the moment that I learn anything juicy!”
The burly gym teacher heaves a long-suffering sigh from across the room and forcefully folds his newspaper. “No, you’re missing the best part.”
He crosses the room like he’s doing us a favor and flips a plastic chair around to sit on it while glaring at Amy.
“For such a gossip, Amy-Marie, you certainly don’t bother taking the time to get your facts straight,” he chastises without a hint of mirth on his face.
Yet, I get the impression that they fight like this fairly often. I guess it’s true what they say about people in small towns having nothing much better to do than talk about one another.
“Well, if you know the story so well, why don’t you tell her then!” Amy says as she finishes her coffee.
The man turns to me and sighs. “I will. I have it on good authority that he has a meeting with the mayor later today about purchasing a rather sizeable piece of land. There’s been other talk that he’s already bought up a good chunk of the real estate on main street. Don’t anybody know what somebody like him could want with land all the way out here, but there are certainly more than enough rumors on the subject. Some people are mighty scared, others are thrilled. It’s about fifty-fifty, even split.”
Amy sighs. “That must be why everybody was congregating at the diner so early this morning… all of you stuffing your faces and gossiping like little Sally’s.”
“You’re just jealous because you didn’t wake up early enough to be invited!” he countered.
Amy smiles and nods at me. “He’s right. I did wanna go. But the idea that some stranger has come to town, making investments and such is awful strange.”
“If he makes good on his promise to finish upgrading the hospital though, I don’t much care what he does with the rest of the town.” The gym teacher admits finally as the bell rings overhead. “Well, back to the grind. Ladies, I’ll see you later.”
“Keep us updated!” Amy calls after him.
I find myself so much more invested in all of this small-town gossip than I thought I ever would be. What could anybody from New York City want with an obscure town like this, in what feels like the middle of nowhere? Maybe he’s just looking to buy a whole town for cheap and flip it like most people flip houses. Pretty huge ask.
At least knowing that he’s a man of means makes me feel a little better. It certainly explains the suit and designer shoes. A businessman looking to purchase more investment properties makes perfect sense…
I knew I was being paranoid by thinking that Nikolai must have sent somebody like him here for me. The world doesn’t revolve around me, after all. Even when I want it to—it doesn’t. As far as the world knows, Helena Russev is dead and long gone.
I can think of a dozen or so reasons that a well-off man like Daniel might want to invest in a place like this.
“What’s wrong with the hospital?” I ask Amy as I stand to help her put the items she has stacked up on the table in some semblance of order.
“Oh honey, I have a free period to grade papers. Don’t you worry about any of this crap now.” She pushes the largest stack into something close to a neat pile and starts searching her person for a red pen. “But to answer your question, there isn’t anything wrong with the hospital per se. It’s just old and poorly equipped. Our dear Martin there wants a better hospital because his wife has cancer. Better hospital and equipment are likely to attract better, newer doctors that could provide better treatment. Everything we have is so outdated. I suppose you could say that about most of the town… but we like it. That small-town charm isn’t so easy to find anymore, so we really gotta look out for one another, you know?”
“Well, then for all of our sakes, I really hope that he has nothing but good intentions,” I offer and pull out my own red pen to offer to her. She seems like the sort of woman that I will want to have as a friend. Plus, she and Martin, the gym teacher, both seem like the sort of people that will be able to tell me if anything is happening in this tiny town, maybe even before it happens.
For a woman who is living on the lam, I won’t balk at having them at my disposal.