2. June
Chapter 2
June
“ A lright, everyone. Grab your backpacks and line up by the door.”
One by one, my kindergarteners formed a single file line, jumping and wiggling with excitement to be reunited with their parents, aside from one little girl, Miss Caroline.
Just like every day before, she scuffed her feet against the cheap brown carpet stained with years of children’s shoes. Her head sagged—her backpack flung over her tiny shoulders.
Energetic chatter filled the classroom, spilling out into the hallway as students from other grades headed toward the main doors of the building.
Ryker, my classroom clown, turned to the student behind him, placed his thumb on his nose, and wiggled his fingers, his tongue sticking out.
“Ms. Collins—“
“I know, I saw TJ.” I took in a deep breath. “Ryker. The day isn’t over. I can still turn your color to red .”
His hand fell from his face, and he stood taut. “Sorry, Ms. Collins.”
I gave him a curt nod and a slight smile, then worked my way to the back of the line.
Caroline grabbed my hand, then yanked it back as I glanced at the connection. “Can’t we do some more coloring, Ms. Collins?”
My stomach flipped, and I sank onto my haunches beside her, keeping my legs together underneath my dress.
“I’m sorry, sweetie. It’s time to go home. Don’t you want to go home?”
Caroline kicked at the carpet as she stared at the floor. “I just want to color more.”
I grabbed her hands and smothered them both in mine, my smile warm despite the ache in my chest. “Is everything okay at home?”
Her soft blonde hair lost its luster weeks ago, the mat in the back of her hair growing by the day, and a slight twist in the front strands where she worried it with her finger.
Right around the time her mother died .
Caroline shrugged and stared at her fraying shoes, her clothing reeking of stale cigarette smoke.
“You can tell me anything. I promise I won’t say anything.” I crossed my fingers and my toes in my head.
Just tell me so I can do something.
According to the school, being unkempt wasn’t a strong enough argument to start an investigation with CPS.
My gaze slid up her arm, the excitement of the room fading into the background.
A cylindrical purple bruise rested just above her shirt sleeve, the bottom sliver hanging below.
Red, furious fire churned in my belly. “Does it have anything to do with your mom passing?”
Caroline pinched her lips with her other hand, folding the bottom lip inward, then squeezing tight.
Why does she shut down on me?
I sighed and gave her a nod. “Well, I’m here if you need me, Caroline. I—“
“Ms. Collins.”
I rose to my feet, her hand leaving mine, and turned toward the door.
Jenny stood in the doorway, a walkie-talkie in her right hand. “We’re waiting for your class.” She held up the radio. “Didn’t you hear me calling you?”
I swallowed and shot a look at the radio on my desk. “Sorry. I must have turned the volume down.”
“Do you need help? ”
I shook my head. “I’ve got it. Just give me a minute.”
Jenny, the new second-grade teacher, spun on her heel after a sideways glance, then traipsed down the hall.
Grabbing the hand-held radio, I moved to the door through the throng of wiggly kids. “Okay, eyes on me.” I touched my nose, and the class settled. “Great job. We’re going to walk down the hall quietly and in a single file line.”
My eyes landed on Caroline, and a heavy sigh slipped through my lips. “Understood?”
“Yes,” the kids whispered as I taught them, hissing like snakes.
“Follow me.” I spun on my heel, my hand dropping to my side as I led them out of the double metal doors.
Stopping on the sidewalk, we remained in a group as the parent’s vehicle pulled around, their sticker in their window matching the sticker on their backpacks.
Jenny and three office assistants helped each child into their verified vehicles.
“Ms. Collins, look what I found.” Evan stood beside Madeline, a shy girl who ate a crayon on the first day and held his hand in the air—a gleam in his eyes.
“What is it?”
He opened his hand, revealing an odd-shaped rock. “It looks like the letter L.”
I gave him a soft smile and took the rock, turning it over from side to side—whistling a breath of relief it wasn’t a wood roach again. “Wow, Evan. What a find.” I patted him on the head and handed it back to him. “You’ll have to add it to your growing collection.”
He smiled a toothless smile, his two front teeth missing. “You can have it.”
“Thank you, Evan.” I pocketed the small rock, its weight pulling on my dress. “You’re such a sweet boy.”
Forty-five minutes flew by in a flash, and the last of the students disappeared into their respective vehicles, leaving little Miss Caroline at my side, her demeanor unchanged.
My teeth clenched hard. “I’ll stay with you until your dad comes. Do you want to sit in the office with me?”
“He’ll be mad.”
I frowned. “Does he get mad often, Caroline?”
She pushed her lower lip into her mouth and bit down with a slight nod. Her gaze shifted up to mine, then beyond, her expression stiffening.
“Let’s go, Care, I don’t have all day.” A scratchy, familiar voice boomed behind me, making me whirl around.
David Tatum leaned against a battered Chevy from the nineties, his torn, oil-stained jeans a testament to hard, dirty work. His white shirt wrinkled and stretched tight over his gut. His dark, patchy facial hair matched the thinning, greasy strands on his head, completing the image of a man who had seen better days.
“Mr. Tatum, you’re late. Again.”
He raised a brow and yanked open the truck door with a metal-on-metal screech. He snapped his fingers, causing Caroline to jump beside me. “Care, get in the truck.”
Without hesitation, she moved, their paths crossing as he stepped toward me, their gazes never meeting.
A dark cloud loomed overhead as his heavy booted footsteps pounded the cement.
“Don’t chastise me, Ms. Collins. You are not my superior.” He stood over me, the top of my head meeting the base of his shoulders. “You’d do best to remember that.”
“Step back, Mr. Tatum. I won’t be intimidated by you.”
A slight sneer pulled back his lips, revealing nicotine-brown teeth and a missing molar. “That’s not what the principal said when you complained about me the last time.”
I squared my shoulders and met him glare for glare. “If you hurt a hair on her head, it’ll be the last thing you do, Mr. Tatum.”
He whooped, a full, boisterous laugh, which had me stepping back from him, a lump in my throat. “That’s cute.” He stepped closer. “I’m afraid of you, June.”
My name slipping from his lips, sent my stomach into somersaults. “It’s Ms. Collins.”
“Does the formality make you feel safer?”
“Do I have a reason to feel unsafe, Mr. Tatum?”
My vision snapped to black, my mental eye twisting his wrist with a refreshing crack.
“Stay in your lane, lady.”
The satisfying image vanished as he turned his back to me and walked towards his truck .
Asshole.
I gritted my teeth as I walked into the school and turned into my empty classroom.
I can take him.
I could do something…
I can make a difference.
Puffing out a held breath, I grabbed my bag and cell phone with lazy footfalls, then turned out the classroom lights.
With hasty steps across the parking lot, I shut myself in my car, locking the doors as muscle memory took hold, my gaze darting to the rearview mirror, searching the backseat.
My hands shook as I fumbled with my phone, my thumb vibrating above Ethan’s picture. The one we took at his company Christmas party.
Where did the happiness go?
Tapping the screen, I held the phone to my ear and started my car.
“Hello?”
“Hey, I’m heading home.” Heat built in my cheeks as David’s altercation burrowed underneath my skin. “I’ve had the worst day.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll have a beer.” Loud voices billowed in the background. “Why? Some kid throw up on you again?”
My teeth dipped into my lower lip, and I shoved my fingers through my hair.
He went out again…without me?
“No. It’s nothing.” I leaned against the headrest and stared at the car ceiling. “I was hoping we could do dinner, but I see you’re already out.”
“Just a dinner meeting. I would have invited you, but you know how these things bore you.”
My brows furrowed. “I don’t recall saying that.”
“Yeah, you told me the last time you went.”
I clicked my phone over to my car speakers and reversed out of my parking space, dropping my phone into the console. “Wasn’t that over a year and a half ago?”
“Could be.” He sighed. “Look, I have to go. I’ll be in town soon, and we’ll do something, okay?”
“Wait? You’re out of town?”
“I talked to you about this.”
He most certainly didn’t.
“Must have slipped my mind. When will you be back?”
“Might be today or sometime this weekend.”
This weekend?
“They’re bringing out the lobster. I’ve gotta go. Bye.”
“Okay, love yo—“
The background noise cut off in an instant, leaving me roiling inside.
Guess it’s just me tonight.
Again.
My eyes burned as I swallowed down the lump in my throat and worked the uneasy sensation crawling up my skin .
Something has to give.
I can’t keep going on like this.
Pulling into my driveway, I eyed my small, square-shaped home on the right—the one with the white picket fence I’d dreamed of since I was a little girl. I parked next to the back door and got out.
An extra-large glass of red wine sat on my mind as I slipped the key into the door handle, my head swiveling from side to side. I shoved my way into the house, locked the deadbolt, and drove the chain into place.
Avon was a small town surrounded by several other small towns—not much went unnoticed here. Especially with the looming day approaching. Citizens from Vail often fled their homes and held up in The Westin Resort or Sheraton, maxing out our small town’s capacity in a matter of minutes.
Not that it saved them.
I flipped on the kitchen light, hung up my keys, and pulled my sheer living room curtains closed.
Walking to the corner, I ran my fingers over the record player I’d inherited from the thrift store trash can, flipped the power button, and moved the needle over the well-used Beethoven vinyl.
Moonlight Sonata Movement 1 erupted into the room, filling my soul with a heavy unease. My life sat in the perfect alignment of the piano’s mournful chords, each note resonating with the muted sorrow hidden behind my smile.
I tipped my head back, a tear dribbling down my cheeks, my eyes closed as I swayed to the piano’s ominous tune, my arms tucked between my breasts, holding in my heart.
No one understands.
They never do.
And they never will.