Chapter Five

Allison was enjoying herself for the first time since coming home. She was standing in the town’s small library, talking to a friend. Her mother was across the room enjoying herself as she read a book.

 

Tanya had been a close friend in middle school, but after her parent’s divorce she had moved away to Portland. Since her own divorce seven years ago, Tanya had moved back to Pride and taken over as vice-principal of the elementary and middle schools.

 

There were twenty of her school children, all around the age of eleven, quietly sitting around the small library reading or finding books.

 

She enjoyed Tanya’s company. Actually it was funny to look at the pair of them. Where Allison was tall and had a fair complexion with light blue eyes and fly-away blond hair, Tanya was her complete opposite. She was shorter, around five-six, and her curves had always made Allison jealous. Her darker skin and thick black hair marked her Indian heritage.

 

“It’s so wonderful that you’re back to stay,” Tanya was saying. Allison noticed that her friend’s eyes wandered to a group of children that had gathered towards the back of the room. Snapping her fingers, Tanya got the children’s attention and they quietly dispersed from each other. “Actually, I wanted to tell you, I went to Portland a year back and saw some of your art in that gallery downtown. I have never seen anything more beautiful than the water color you did of the shore line. You know I think it’s just terrible that you kept your wonderful talents hidden for so long.”

 

“I didn’t really keep them hidden away. I just didn’t tell anyone in fear of what they would think.” Allison was used to hearing this from the locals. “I love all things art, I always have. It just took Megan giving me the push to turn it into something more than a hobby.”

 

“Actually, you’re giving me an idea.” Tanya ran her hand down her long dark braid. “Karen, our art teacher, has been thinking of breaking up some of her art classes. She teaches for all the elementary, middle, and junior high school kids. She’s been begging me to get someone to take the younger kids off her hands so she can focus on the older ones. Would you be interested in helping us out? It wouldn’t be a full time position, at least not to begin with. Art classes are only three days a week.” Her friend chewed her lip, waiting.

“Well…,” she said, looking across the room. Now there were two girls sitting at the desk next to her mother. She was happily reading a book to them both. Both girls smiled and laughed when her mother spoke in a deep character voice as she read a story to the pair.

 

This could be what she’d been looking for. A chance at a fresh start and some normality, something that would root her back into the town and give her the feeling of being needed.

 

Smiling to herself, she decided to take a chance.

 

“What exactly did you have in mind?”

 

Three hours later, Allison sat in the kitchen watching her mother make dinner. The house had been thoroughly cleaned since her arrival. It still shined, reminding her so much of her youth. Her mother had been a typical type “A” personality. Everything had it’s place, everything had to be spotless. Allison could remember her mother yelling at her and her sister on a particular evening shortly before her father’s death. She and Abby had just arrived home from school, and their books and bags were supposed to go immediately to their rooms. This time, however, both girls had been so excited about their father being home from a long trip, they’d dropped them and ran straight to his open arms. The yelling her mother had done was one of the worst she could remember. Unknown to Allison, she had spent the whole day cleaning the house.

 

She watched as her mother moved around the kitchen with fluid movements in a dance she’d seen her do for years and years.

 

“Mom? What do you think about me teaching an art class at the middle school a few days during the week?”

 

“Oh, that would be lovely. You were always good at drawing. Is that what you want to do dear?”

 

“I think it’s something I would enjoy.” Chewing her lip she watched her mother put the milk in the cupboard. “Mother, you just put the milk in the cupboard.”

 

Her mother stopped, looked at her and then opened the cupboard door. “Well, look at that!” Chuckling, she pulled the milk from the cupboard and placed it in the refrigerator. “I tell you, sometimes I’m just so scatterbrained.”

 

“Tanya says that I would have to get my state teacher’s credential. She says it’s something I could easily study for,” she said to her mother’s back. Thinking about it, it started to sound really fun. Oh, sure, she could still do her art. Maybe even occasionally fly out for a show. After all, she would have the summer to do whatever she wanted. Taking this job wasn’t because she was hurting for money. Her art had made her enough in the past two years that she didn’t think she would have to worry about money ever again.

 

“Well, really!” Looking up she saw her mother standing at the sink.

 

“What’s wrong, mama?” Allison started to get up and go to her.

 

“I’m so very upset at you two right now. I thought I taught you girls better than this.” She turned and shook a hand towel at her. “Just where is your sister? No doubt hiding in her room. I suppose you’re going to tell me you had nothing to do with this.” Her mother tossed the hand towel on the table next to her. Thinking that her mother was upset that she’d left it on the countertop she tried to calm her down.

 

“Mom, I don’t know what you’re upset about. It’s just your hand towel.” Picking it up, she looked at it. It was an older towel, one she’d seen since her childhood, one that had seen better days. It was frayed at the ends and the pretty picture of flowers were so faded, she could hardly make them out.

 

“My hand towel? My hand towel! I would never have such a ragged thing as that for a hand towel.” Her mother stormed off towards her room.

 

Allison rubbed her temples and decided a glass of wine would help her get through the rest of the evening.

 

It had taken Iian a week, with his brother and Aaron’s help, to clean out all four rooms upstairs. They’d dragged everything up to the attic for storage. With all the furniture cleared out, he could focus on painting and re-carpeting. The carpet guys were going to arrive next week, which left him only a few days to patch and paint the walls.

 

Lacey’s old room was going to take the longest. The bright pink paint that had donned her walls for years needed so much work. He actually thought of putting siding up instead. Once he removed her barre and wall of mirrors, he had uncovered a large space that was still white. Deciding to go ahead with the paint, he knew it would take him at least three primer coats on the pink walls. This would allow him to paint them all the light yellow he’d planned. In this room, he’d decided to keep the light oak hardwood floors their father had installed years ago instead of carpeting over them. Which meant he needed to sand and stain it all.

 

He went to work sore the last few days, but seeing the progress on the upstairs was worth it. Besides, he was probably sore from sleeping on the couch downstairs, since the upstairs was a mess. His father’s room, which he had to start thinking of as his new room, was completely painted and ready for carpet. His old room was still gutted and would probably remain so since he was planning on working on that room last. Since Todd’s old room was the room that needed the least work, he had just slapped a fresh coat of paint and would add new furniture after the carpet was in. All he needed now was someone to share the large place with and there was only one person he could think of that fit in the empty space.

 

It had taken Allison hours of studying to get up the nerve to go to the campus in Edgeview and take the state test. After the test, she had walked out wondering why she’d stressed herself out. She knew all the answers, every single one. Not only was she sure that she’d passed the exam, she began to feel like she had even aced it.

 

She’d talked to her neighbor, Mrs. Evans, about keeping an eye on her mother while she was out. Mrs. Evans had not only enjoyed the idea, but had shown up with a big pan of coffee cake the morning of her test.

 

Now over two weeks after being asked by Tanya to teach, Allison was nervous. It wasn’t that she was afraid of the work. After all, she’d been painting or drawing for most of her life. What she was nervous about was standing in front of a small room of students. She had received her teacher’s certificate in the mail less than a day ago.

 

It had taken almost an hour that morning for her to pick out her outfit, finally choosing a pair of simple black dress slacks and a sea green silk top. She had even taken the time to french braid her hair, which had grown out since the last time she’d gotten the urge to do a short spring chop.

 

As she looked across the faces of her new students, she wondered if she had made the right choice. How could she have thought she could do something like this? She was an artist! She belonged in a back room somewhere painting, alone. Not in front of a class full of pig-tailed girls and runny-nosed boys that couldn’t sit still for more than five seconds. How was she going to control twenty eleven-year-old kids?

 

“Hello everyone, I’m Allison Adams. I’m going to be your new art teacher.” The kids all sat looking at her like she was made of glass. At least they weren’t throwing things at her yet. Turning to the chalk board, she used her colored chalk to quickly draw what she wanted. It took less than two minutes to have all the kids in the classroom laughing.

 

“This is a caricature.” She pointed at the likeness of herself. “Can anyone tell me what makes this a caricature and not just a drawing of myself?”

 

The whole class sat in silence. Then when she thought no one would answer, a small boy in the back row raised his hand.

 

“Yes?” Looking at her seating chart, she saw his name.  “Yes, Sean. What makes this a caricature instead of a likeness?”

 

All the other kids turned and looked at the small boy who had freckles that crossed every part of his nose. His face soon matched the redness of his curly hair.

 

He stood and said something Allison would never forget.

 

“It’s a character because you drew it funny.” All the kids laughed. Sean quickly sat down with his head hung in shame.

“Hold on class. Sean is right. Take a look.” She quickly walked to the end of the chalk board and drew again, this time taking care to not accent her features comically.

 

“Can you see the differences?” The kids all just stared at her.

 

Then a little girl with blonde curly hair that was tied up in a tight pony tail raised her hand.

 

“Yes, Mckenna.”

 

“How did you do that?” She asked.

 

“Years of practice. Now let me show you what makes these two different.”

 

By the end of the hour, Allison had discovered a new love. The children in her class had not only shown her she could teach art, but they had shown her that life was fun. Since her return home, she’d been caught up in a whirlwind of doctor meetings and her mother’s moods. She had smiled and laughed more in the last hour than she had since returning home.

 

Walking into Tanya’s office she had a huge smile on her face and her mind was made up. She was going to take the teaching job. She was going to be a middle school art teacher, she laughed inwardly.

 

Three days later, she thought really hard about backing down. Leaving the house had even become a task since her mother had another “episode,” as she had started calling them. Thank goodness she had calmed down before Mrs. Evans had arrived. Then her car had acted up at the town’s only stop sign, causing everyone who had been outside and downtown to look over at her after the loud backfire. Of course, she had stalled it trying to quickly leave. She had to wave off the old men who were approaching from their permanent residence of twenty-odd years, outside the old barber shop.

 

To add to her day, she had to spend more than five minutes getting the two Simmons sisters to stop arguing. They had been fighting over whether Jenny’s painting of a flower was that of a daisy or if it was just a weed like Julie, the older of the twins, was saying it was.

 

She had enjoyed when Eric Everett had shown her his painting of his gray cat. It not only looked like a cat, but he’d actually listened to her instructions about how to draw the back legs and had done them correctly.

 

Allison had been debating whether she wanted to be a school art teacher or to go back to the city and deal with all the art critics she so desperately hated. She came to the conclusion that the kids were easier to deal with at this point in her life.

 

It had been a long day; her head ached, her feet ached, and her back ached. How could so many little kids cause so much destruction? By the end of the day, her art room had looked like a large tornado had pushed through it.

 

The weather had been nice and warm for days. However, now the light rain that was falling was nothing more than a burden to her.

 

Parking her car in the drive, she was looking forward to a nice hot bath, maybe a glass of wine. Turning the door knob, she discovered the front door was locked. Taking out her keys, she unlocked the deadbolt. Only to have it snap locked again.

“Mother!” She could hear her on the other side of the door. “Mother, it’s Allison,” Turning her key again, she tried the door handle, it was locked. She unlocked it, just in time to hear the deadbolt lock again. Laughing to herself, she tried a fourth time, only to have it happen again.

 

“Mother! Let me in!” She wasn’t finding this funny anymore. Every time she would unlock the deadbolt, the door handle would lock. Then when she unlocked the door handle, the deadbolt would be locked quickly.

 

“I know who you are. I’ve told you before, you can’t have any of it,” The deadbolt slid home again.

 

“Mother, please let me in. It’s wet out here and I’m tired.” When her mother didn’t respond, she sat on the front steps, protected from the rain under the small overhang.

 

Pulling out her cell phone, she messaged the only person she knew could help calm her mother down.

 

Waiting for his reply seemed to take forever. Finally he messaged, “I’ll be right there.”

 

Iian had the day off and since there were men at his house installing his new carpet, he’d decided to swing by Megan and Todd’s place. He had made his famous chili earlier to take to their guests at the bed and breakfast. He enjoyed cooking meals for the guests and usually stayed on for lunch.

 

He liked visiting with Megan, but it was really the kids he came to see. He loved spending time playing with little Matthew and Sara. Matthew was a shy little thing around others, but Iian brought out the monster in him. He liked to wrestle in the yard and play with little cars or trucks he always bought for the boy.

 

Sara was his precious diamond, as he liked to call her. Her chubby one-year-old cheeks just called out to be kissed and snuggled with. She giggled and smiled when he tickled her, and when he left for the day she gave him sloppy kisses that left a soft spot on his heart. So after enjoying another great visit with his family, he headed home to see how the progress was going.

 

Walking into the place just as the rain started, the smell hit him full force: paint, stain, and new carpet. Smiling to himself, he headed up the stairs. Looking into Todd’s old room first, he saw the carpet was already done. The plush Berber floor and fresh off-white paint made the room look brand new. Seeing that his old bedroom was also done, he headed into his father’s room. He really had to start thinking of it as his room, someday.

 

There were two guys picking up small carpet clippings. He could tell that they hadn’t noticed him yet, so he stood in the door and just looked. The room was three times the size of his old bedroom. On one wall was a large archway leading into the master bathroom, which hadn’t been used in years. The glass-walled shower sparkled since his sister had come over and cleaned it. It was the only job that they would let her do to help out, since she was growing bigger every day. The marble double sinks his father had installed for his mother on their wedding day gleamed, as well. Megan had seen to cleaning the rest of the bathroom. Everything smelled and looked new.

 

Smiling to himself, he thought of asking Aaron and Todd to help him move the massive bed and the rest of his furniture back down tomorrow.

 

After the carpet crew left, he started bringing down some of the smaller stuff, himself including the air mattress he was going to use. He was standing in the empty master bedroom when he saw a movement out of the corner of his eyes and swore he smelled his father.

 

Just then his cell phone vibrated with a new message. Looking down, he grabbed it from his jeans and quickly looked back up towards the empty archway and shook his head. He needed one night of real sleep, he thought, as he looked at the text message from Allison.

 

Ten minutes later he pulled up in front of the Adams’ house. Allison was sitting on the steps of the porch. Her eyes were pink and he could tell she was either about to cry or had been crying.

 

The steady spring rain had continued through dusk and a slight chill was now in the air. He could see her shivering as he walked up the path.

“Still can’t get in the house?” He signed.

 

“I stopped trying. It’s so frustrating. She was yelling at me like I was a stranger trying to break into my own house.”

 

Helping her to stand up, he held onto her hand and felt her fingers were chilled. Walking over to the door he knocked.

 

“Mrs. Adams, it’s Iian Jordan. Can I come in?” he looked over to Allison to gauge if there had been a reply. When she shook her head “no”, he continued. “Mrs. Adams remember I’m deaf, I can’t hear you. I just wanted to come in and see if…” The door swung open.

 

Her mother was in large gray sweat pants with a huge white tee-shirt. Her hair was a mess, and there were clothes thrown all over the living room, again.

 

“Oh, Iian,” she stopped to primp her hair. “Well, if I knew you were coming, I would have made some of my cookies. Well, don’t stand out there in the cold. You two kids had better come in.”

 

Her mother was treating her like a stranger which only made her feel worse. Her headache had only gotten worse sitting out in the cold on the front porch. When she had seen Iian drive up, she had almost lost it and cried right there in front of him.

 

By the time she shuffled her mother into bed, she was sure she would need a half bottle of wine or a big bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream to make her feel better.

 

Iian had stayed around and entertained her mother while she had picked up all her clothes. Her mother had thrown all over the living room, something she had been doing lately. Why she chose to do this was still a mystery to her. She was starting to think that she would hire someone to watch her full time. Mrs. Evans could only watch her for a few hours at a time. Maybe somebody else could watch out for her the rest of the time.

When she walked back into the living room, she saw him sitting on the couch, looking through an old photo album her mother had handed him earlier.

 

Walking over, she sat next to him. There on the pages were she and Abby on her father’s old boat. Boating had always been a part of her life. Living on the coast, she had loved to go out for trips with her family. Sometimes they would spend weeks on the small sailboat they had owned.

 

Looking over at Iian, she signed, “Thank you for helping tonight.”

 

“Don’t mention it. I always did have a soft spot for your mom.” He reached over and toyed with the ends of her braid. She tried hard not to purr like a cat, but the light contact helped ease her headache.

 

“You’ve got a bad headache?” He spoke this time. Her eyes had closed when he started to stroke her hair. He continued to rub her head and then he nudged her to turn her back towards him. “I bet it can be stressful dealing with a bunch of kids all day, then coming home to this.” He kept talking as he made his way down her neck to her shoulders.

 

The tension he felt there was almost shocking.  “I’ve been working on the house all week and sleeping on the down-stair’s couch. They just finished putting carpet in all the upstairs rooms today. It looks wonderful.” He continued to talk about what he was doing around his place in hopes of helping her relax.

 

She moaned in pleasure as his warm fingers moved up and down her neck. He was talking and she could tell he wasn’t expecting her to answer him back. When she felt like she could just slide down the couch and fall asleep, she turned to him. Looking directly in his eyes, she leaned forward and kissed him. She had wanted to kiss him since he’d walked up to her on the front porch.

 

She had kissed Iian all of four times. The first time was when they were no more than children. The second was a chaste peck on New Years. The third was a heated kiss over a hot stove. This kiss was unlike any before. The slowness of the sweet kiss lasted until she began to shake with want.

 

She tasted like spring. She felt better than he had imagined over the years. Taking his time, he savored every inch of her mouth. Her lips were softer than any others that had come before. Her taste, sweeter than anyone else. He could lose himself in her mouth, in her taste. He had waited years, a lifetime it seemed, and wanted to savor every moment, every feeling.

 

He was sure that if he could bottle up the essence of her, he would quickly become a millionaire. He ran his hands over her slender form, enjoying the slight curve of her hips. He slowly traced the lines as she clung tight to his shoulders.

 

When he started to pull back, she reached up and grabbed a handful of his hair to pull him back to her mouth. This time, she controlled the speed. He could feel her vibrating and knew she was moaning. He could feel her melting against him. He used his hands on her hips and pulled her closer. She was soft, so very thin, and he enjoyed the feel of her body next to his.

 

Finally, she pulled back and rested her head against his shoulder. Taking a big breath, he enjoyed the feel and smell of her.

 

When she walked him out to his car, he kissed her again. He could just stand here forever with her on the front walk, in the night air, with the sparkling stars overhead looking down on them. The rain had washed everything clean, the clouds had dissipated, and the stars were out lighting the whole sky. The night air was still crisp enough that it reminded you that you were alive. Holding her closer, he thought the feel of her helped him feel alive as well.

 

It was late when he got back to the house. He was pumped. He couldn’t explain it, but being with Allison gave him energy to spare. Instead of hitting the shower and bed, he headed back up to the large attic. He figured he would use the extra energy to bring a few things back downstairs from storage in the attic.

 

He spotted a large luggage box that he hadn’t seen in years. He knew the precious items that lay inside, since the trunk had been up in the attic forever. No one really opened the box. In fact, he thought the last time someone looked inside was when he was a kid looking for some chalk.

 

On this particular evening, however, he felt the need to go over and open the lid. His grandmother’s painting supplies were neatly tucked away. A large wooden easel sat in pieces that he thought could easily be put back together. Paint brushes and other art supplies were neatly tucked in individual boxes with labels. Oil paints that he thought might be dried and unusable were still in their packages unopened. There were canvases that sat lined up along the back of the large box.

 

Making a decision, he started to drag the heavy box towards the stairs.