Chapter Two
Everett
Everybody can use a little distraction from the bullshit life throws at you from time to time. Doesn’t hurt if that distraction comes in the form of a blonde bombshell.
I had been wondering about the woman who lived across the street from me ever since the lady next door to her, sweet old Mrs. Dobbins, had come over and had a chat with me earlier in the afternoon. She seemed like a likable lady, even if she was a bit talkative. I hadn't even moved all of my boxes into my new house, let alone been able to unpack any of them, when I learn more about my new neighborhood in 20 minutes than I’d known about my old one in four years. The truth was, I had only been half-listening to her ramble on about everyone in the neighborhood until she mentioned that a beautiful 27-year-old lived across the street from me.
So, when I noticed a car coming up the street and saw an absolutely gorgeous woman in it, I had kind of hoped it was the woman Mrs. Dobbins had been talking about, although I figured with my luck, it'd just be some random person driving past who I'd never see again. Then again, maybe my luck wasn’t so bad. The car started slowing down and lo and, behold, she turned into the driveway right across from my house and parked her car.
I carried on mowing the lawn, not wanting to make it too obvious that I was checking her out. She had apparently just been grocery shopping, and I watched her as she unloaded her bags. She was short and petite with nice curves and a gorgeous head of blonde hair that shimmered in the sun. I couldn't help noticing her ass which was full and round, just how I liked 'em. Then, suddenly, she shot a glance at me, and our eyes met. I immediately felt as if there was a connection there, so I flashed her a smile.
I don't know if she was embarrassed or just shy, but she looked away quickly and hurried inside. Mrs. Dobbins had not been exaggerating when she’d said my new neighbor was beautiful. I tried to focus on the lawn. It was a mess, and it needed my attention something fierce. After all, I’d started the job; I needed to finish it before my meeting tonight.
I was determined to get done what I needed to get done, and after getting all the boxes into the house and getting my little Jane into bed for a nap, the tangled mess of lawn out front needed to be tamed. It had looked like a jungle since I’d started moving in the day before, and I wasn't about to present that sort of face to my new neighbors – especially the attractive one across the street that I couldn’t seem to stop thinking about all of a sudden.
Of course, I wasn't about to let that distract me from my purpose. I had moved here to turn things around at JFK High School. My past experiences and my reputation are what led the school board to offer me the job. The staff had already gone through the preliminary two weeks of prepping for the school year, so I was coming in with little to no time to get to know them.
I had enjoyed my time as a deputy principal at an inner-city school in downtown Los Angeles over the past three years, but the time had come for a change. So, when the school board of Irvine had contacted me and offered me the position of principal, a position I had expected to take me at least another five to 10 years to attain, I had to say yes. Besides, I'd felt like my work in Los Angeles was complete. I'd spearheaded a program that sorted out their gang violence problem and generally got things working as they were supposed to.
But even though Irvine was very different to inner city LA, I would be facing a set of challenges to deal with here, too — a new drug called “Rocket” was sweeping through southern California and leaving tragedy and broken dreams in its wake. It was creating an ugly mark on the formerly pristine JFK College. According to the head of the school board, they needed a man who could turn things around, who wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty, a man who could go toe-to-toe with drug dealers and gangsters and not back down. They needed me. I was ready to rise to the challenge. I had a tough job ahead of me, but like I said, we could all use a bit of distraction from time to time.
Besides, I had the perfect excuse to talk to her – a new resident wanting to meet his neighbors. It was all perfectly innocent.
I turned off the mower, checked the monitor in my shorts pocket to make sure Jane was still sleeping, and walked across the street, grinning. When I got to her porch and knocked on the door, it seemed like it took a while for her to open it, and in those few seconds between me knocking and her opening the door, I actually started to feel a little nervous.
When she opened the door, however, I felt that I had definitely done the right thing by going over and talking to her. She was even more beautiful close-up with her big blue eyes, dainty button nose, and full, dark pink lips. I was so busy staring at her that I forgot to speak.
“Umm, hi,” she said, breaking the silence after a few awkward moments. “You just moved into the Sanchez place across the road, right?”
“Hi. I did, yes.”
I extended a hand to her, which she took and shook gently.
“I'm Everett James,” I said. “Just thought I’d come over and introduce myself since I saw you pull in.”
“I'm Vivienne Andrews,” she replied. “Nice to meet you.” She smiled, and it made her even more beautiful. “Say, you've got a bit of an accent. Texas?”
I nodded. “Grew up on a ranch in East Texas. I haven't been back for many years, but yeah, a lil' of the accent is still there.”
“My grandmother was a Texan,” she said. “Also from East Texas. That's how I recognized it.”
“Great place. You get out there much?” I asked.
“We visited a few times when I was a kid, but I don't know it too well. Like you, it's been a few years.”
I nodded. An awkward silence passed between us, and I scrambled to think of something to say to keep the conversation going.
“Say, uh, I noticed as I was coming up the steps that your porch rail is loose. Didn’t know if maybe you or your husband had noticed and—”
“Oh, I’m not married,” she interrupted, somewhat hastily.
“Oh, I see. Well, maybe your boyfriend might want to take a look at—”
“I uh, I don't have a boyfriend either,” she said.
“Really?” I blurted out without thinking, surprised that she didn’t and kinda taken aback at how quickly she had corrected me. It was good to know, though. “Well, since I'm almost done mowing my lawn, and I’m pretty good with a hammer, how about I see if I can get that fixed for you? It won't take more than, say, 15 minutes.”
“Oh no, I really couldn't ask you to do something like that; it would be—”
At that moment, my phone started ringing in my pocket.
“Excuse me, Vivienne,” I said as I took my phone out and looked at the screen. The babysitter. “I just need to take this call.”
“Sure.”
I answered the phone.
“Hey Maggie,” I said. “What's up?”
Maggie explained that she had come down with a bad cold and thus wouldn't be able to babysit my daughter, Janie, tonight while I was at my meeting.
“Oh no, sorry to hear that, Maggie. I sure do hope you get better soon. I'll, uh, I'll find someone else to look after Jane tonight. Thanks for calling and letting me know.” We said our goodbyes, I put the phone back in my pocket, and shook my head and sighed. Maggie was the teenage daughter of my contact at the school board and essentially my only option for a sitter.
“What's the problem?” Vivienne asked.
“Oh, that was my babysitter. She can't take care of Jane tonight. Seems she's come down with a bad cold.”
“Oh, you're a father?” her eyes widened a little, and it was quite clear that she was surprised.
“I am, yeah. My lil' Jane is three years old.”
“And your wife isn't able to look after her tonight?” she asked.
“I'm not married . . . We've uh, we've been divorced a couple of years now.”
She nodded. “Ah, I see. Well, I'll tell you what, Everett, how about I take care of Jane for you tonight in exchange for you fixing my porch rail? I know it might seem a little weird, you know, me offering to do that when we've only just met each other, but I happen to have a lot of experience with very young children. I own a daycare 15 minutes away from here. See? Here's my card,” she said, reaching into her handbag from the coat hook next to her on the wall and taking out a business card to give to me. “It's got my cell number right there if you need to get hold of me for anything.”
“Thanks! Actually, that would work out perfectly. I've just taken a job as principal of JFK High School, and as you know, the new school year starts in a few days, and I've got a meeting with the teaching staff tonight about certain, uh, issues that have been plaguing the school in recent months.”
“Sounds like important business. Like I said, I'd be happy to take care of Jane tonight if that would help you.”
“If you could, it'd be great,” I replied. “But you gotta allow me to compensate you with more than just fixing your porch rail, as I don't feel like that's too fair a bargain. Fifteen minutes of easy work for me compared to three hours of dealing with a three-year-old for you. Can I at least pay you for your time? Or mow your lawn or something?”
She chuckled. “I appreciate the offer, Everett, but I'm not really in need of any extra cash. However, if you're anything of a handyman . . .”
“I am. See those boxes in the back of my truck?” I pointed to my black 4x4 sitting in my driveway.
“Yeah?”
“Those happen to be my power tools. I'll be setting them up in my garage tomorrow if I get everything else unpacked before then.”
“Great. So then, if you wouldn't mind helping me fix a few things around my house in exchange for any babysitting needs you have, I'd really appreciate that.”
I extended my hand and she took it, and I gave it a firm shake.
“That sounds perfect,” I said. “I enjoy working with my hands, so it’s a win-win.”
She smiled, and a hint of electricity passed between us.
“Well, this all worked out quite nicely then!” she remarked.
“It really did. Can I bring her over at 7:30?”
She nodded.
“You can. I'll see you then.”
I beamed a warm smile at her.
“You’ll see me before then. I’m still going to cut this lawn of yours.”
***
“Janie, this is Vivienne,” I said, holding Jane's hand reassuringly as she half-hid behind my legs, looking out shyly at Vivienne. “She's gonna play with you for a bit while Daddy goes to work, okay?”
Jane motioned her little finger to get me to come down to her level like she wanted to tell me something. I complied. “Vivienne is pretty,” Jane said with a smile in a voice she thought was whispering, but wasn’t. I grinned, and Vivienne chuckled a little.
“Yes, sweet-pea, Vivienne is very pretty,” I halfway whispered back and glanced up at the woman standing in front of us.
“Looks like you two will be getting on famously,” I remarked with a smile. “Thanks again for doing this, Vivienne, you're a life saver.”
“It's lovely to meet you,” Vivienne said, squatting down and taking Jane's little hand in hers. “Do you like chocolate chip cookies?”
“Uh-huh,” replied Jane, still smiling shyly.
“Well, come on in. I've got some nice fresh ones we can eat. And do you like Frozen?” Vivienne added.
“Yes!” Jane’s eyes lit up.
“Well, I've got that too; we can watch it together,” Vivienne told her.
“Yay! Frozen!” Jane squealed.
“See, sweet-pea? I told you you'd have fun with Vivienne. Alright, Daddy's gotta go to work now. I'll see you later.”
I turned to Vivienne, handing her the small piece of paper I’d written my cell phone number on and a Ziploc bag with Jane’s asthma medication in it. “Thanks again for helping out. Here’s my number if you need to get in touch with me and, of course, her inhaler. I guess I'll see you around 10.”
“Not a problem. And I'll call you if there are any problems. Have a good meeting, Everett.”
“See ya later, Vivienne.”
I watched her as she led Jane inside the house. Jane was already comfortable with her, which was unusual. She typically took a lot longer to warm up to people she didn't know. I guess her experience working with the kids at her daycare probably didn't hurt things.
I got into my truck and was at the school a matter of minutes later. It was close enough for a walk, and I would have, as it was a nice night for a walk, but I preferred to have my vehicle with me just in case anything happened with Jane. Since she was asthmatic, I wanted to be able to get to her side as quickly as possible if she had an attack.
I walked into the school, surveying the grounds. I'd been here before, of course, but I'd been in a hurry and had been focused on getting my interview done, so I hadn't had much time to really look around. Now that I wasn't distracted with an interview, I could take in the surroundings.
It was a nice school, very modern looking, and the facilities were all high-tech and very new; so very, very different from the inner-city school I'd just come from working in. They had told me, though, that the drug situation was bad here. I couldn't imagine it being anything like the problems I'd encountered when working in the inner-city school, but hey, life was always full of surprises, and things could be very different to how they appeared on the surface.
I headed into my new office where the deputy principal, Ben Trower, and three of the senior teachers were waiting for me. They all stood up as I entered the room and took the time to shake each of their hands and briefly make introductions. Ben, however, I already knew, so I gave him a polite nod and then sat down at my desk.
It was hard not to feel like a bit of a kid here; at 32 I was 16 years younger than Ben, who was the next youngest in the room. Everyone else was in their 50s and 60s. Still, I wasn't intimidated by any means; I knew how to do this job, and I knew how to do it well.
“Alright people, let's get down to business. I think I know what's at the top of the agenda here. Rocket. Am I right?”
They all nodded, their expressions grave.
“It was spreading like wildfire through this school before summer break,” Ben spoke up. “Just before the end of the last school year, we had no less than 15 kids drop. Ten of them were pulled by their parents to go to rehab. Four, however, were actually arrested for possession and dealing of the drug, and two of them are currently serving sentences as they were 18 at the time of their arrest.”
“And what about the 15th kid?” I asked.
A look of severity passed between Ben and the teachers before they answered me.
“The 15th kid,” Ben said slowly. “Died of an overdose, Everett. He died.”