Chapter Five

Quinn

"Maybe Mr. Strauss is just lonely," my Mom tells me as we wash the dishes after dinner. "He's a widower, remember?"

"That's no excuse for him to be so cold to his daughter." I scrub a plate with the soapy sponge in my hand. "In fact, shouldn't he double his efforts as a father since his child doesn't have a mother?"

My Mom grins. "Oh, but not everyone has a heart as big as you, dear."

"That has nothing to do with it. It's his responsibility to care for his daughter, not just to provide for her."

"And you told Mr. Strauss that?"

"More or less."

My mother sighs. "No wonder he fired you."

"He didn't fire me. I never took the job. I can't be a teacher to his daughter when he refuses to be a father."

"Can't you? Doesn't that mean the poor girl needs you more?"

I pause.

"Isn't it the teacher's job to care for children who have no one else to care for them?"

"That's the thing. Marianne has someone to care for her. He just... refuses to do it, like he won't even try."

"Maybe he's scared to try," my mother says. "When you lose someone you love, you get scared to open your heart to someone else because you're afraid you might lose them too."

"Is that why you never married again?" I ask her.

"Not really. It was more because I loved your Dad so much and I knew no one else could compare to him."

She smiles as warmth flickers in her eyes. So do I.

"I can understand if Mr. Strauss never wants to marry again, but to be so cold towards his own daughter? If he really loved his wife, then he should love his child, right?"

My mother shrugs. "Mrs. Shaw mentioned that Meredith died during childbirth. Maybe that's why Mr. Strauss can't bring himself to be close to Marianne."

"Because he blames her for his wife's death? That's just stupid."

"Or maybe because Marianne reminds him too much of her."

I hand her a soapy plate. "Well, she does look like her. Still, it's not Marianne's fault. She's completely innocent. So why is she being punished? She deserves to be loved and cared for like any other child."

"So why don't you do it? You have a lot of love and care to spare, don't you?"

"Do I?"

"Remember how I always say everything happens for a reason? Maybe there's a reason they moved here where you're the only teacher available. Maybe you're the only one who can help that child. Who knows? Maybe you can help the father, too."

My eyebrows go up. "You're not suggesting I heal Mr. Strauss's broken heart, are you?"

She says nothing.

I shake my head. "The last thing I need is another member of the male species to worry about. Clive gives me enough trouble as it is."

"I'm not saying you seduce him, although I think we've established that you're quite capable of seduction."

"Mom."

"I'm just saying that by helping Marianne, you can help Mr. Strauss. Who knows? When he sees how much fun you're having with Marianne, he might want to join in. Or you could show him what he's supposed to do. You know men. Tell them to do something and they won't listen because they don't like being ordered around. It makes them feel weak. But show them how something is supposed to be done and they'll want to prove they're up to it. They don't like losing, after all, especially to women."

I fall silent as I ponder her words of wisdom.

"But seducing him would be fine, too, I guess," my mother adds. "You're still young, after all."

I throw her a narrowed glance. "Mom."

She rinses a glass. "You know, you didn't tell me how he looked."

I say nothing.

"Well?"

I sigh. "He's tall. He has black hair."

"And?"

"And I guess he's got a great body."

"Ooh." My mom nudges my shoulder. "You mean he's hot?"

"I didn't say that," I say quickly.

She laughs.

"Besides, it's irrelevant. He's a jerk."

"Ah, the kind of man women usually fall for."

I snort. Why are we even talking about Mr. Strauss or men? Weren't we talking about parenting and teaching and children?

"So have you made your mind up?" Mom turns serious. "About whether or not you're going to give the job a chance, I mean."

I pause. I know Mr. Strauss annoys the hell out of me, but I also have to admit that my mom's right. Marianne needs me. As a teacher, I should be thinking more about her than her father.

I let out a deep breath. "Maybe I'll go back tomorrow."

~

"I thought you told me to find someone else." Mr. Strauss sits back in the leather chair behind his mahogany desk. He clasps his hands on his lap.

I glance around. "Well, I don't see anyone else. And I think Mrs. Shaw told you that I'm the only teacher around here."

"I have been wondering about that. Why are you here? What's a teacher doing here when there's no school?"

"I have a student," I tell him. "And my family's here."

He nods. "So you still want the job?"

"I'll take it... on a few conditions."

"Conditions?" His eyebrows go up as he straightens in his seat.

I get the feeling that everything's been handed to him on a platter unconditionally up to this point. Must be nice.

I lean forward. "One. I'll dress however I want."

He looks at my sweater. "Fine. I suppose I can't help it if you have no fashion sense."

"Two. You will treat me as an equal, not an employee. I believe I mentioned that as a teacher, I don't work for you. That means you'll treat me with respect and I'll treat you with the same."

He frowns.

"And three, you will eat dinner with Marianne and tuck her into bed."

"What does that have to do with teaching?"

"I want to give you a chance to observe what she's learned and maybe talk to her about it."

His dark eyes narrow. "And if I refuse? Will you leave again?"

"No," I answer. "But I assure you I can make your life harder."

"Can you?"

"Whereas if you help me, I can assure you I will do my best to teach your daughter good behavior. She might even start doing as you tell her. I'm sure that would take a load off your mind."

He taps his fingers on his desk as he considers my proposal.

"Fine," he says finally. "I will allow your conditions, Ms. Hardy."

"You mean you agree to them." I stand up and offer him my hand. "Shall we shake on it?"

He hesitates before shaking my hand. His grip is as firm as I thought it would be.

"I'm guessing you're not married?" he asks as he withdraws his hand.

The question takes me by surprise, but I manage to answer, "No. Why?"

"If you were, I'd feel sorry for the man."

I frown. "Are you trying to pick a fight with me, Mr. Strauss?"

"I'm simply saying you're a formidable woman, Ms. Hardy."

Is he paying me a compliment? I blush.

"Please call me Quinn," I tell him. "I've already told Marianne to call me the same."

He nods. Then his lips curve into a grin. "Well then, Quinn, I look forward to working with you."

~

I let out a sigh of relief as soon as I'm out of Mr. Strauss's office.

That went well. For a moment there, I thought he'd toss me out, or at least yell at me. Instead, he agreed to my conditions. He even paid me a compliment. Well, he insulted me first, but at least he followed it up by saying something halfway nice.

I smile. Maybe he's not so bad after all.

"I take it the meeting went better this time?" Janice interrupts my thoughts as she appears in the hallway.

I jump at her voice but regain my composure.

"Quite well," I answer. "I guess I will be teaching Marianne from now on."

"Good. She needs a teacher more than anything." She walks towards the stairs. "Do you want coffee? I'm going to get some from the kitchen."

I decide to go with her. "You seem to know Marianne well."

"I've spent quite a bit of time with her, you know, when a nanny suddenly quits and I can't find a replacement at once."

"And when did this start happening? Surely she didn't cause much trouble when she was a baby."

"I wouldn't know. She only started living with Mr. Strauss two years ago."

My eyebrows rise. "Two years ago?"

"Before that, Marianne lived with her grandmother, Meredith's mother."

"Mrs. Carmichael?"

"Yes. Julie Carmichael. But stuff happened."

No wonder Mr. Strauss treats his daughter like a stranger. He didn't even have her around until two years ago.

"Is it true that Mrs. Strauss - Meredith - died in childbirth?" I ask.

Janice nods.

"It must have been hard on Mr. Strauss."

"It was. He immersed himself in work. As a result, his company grew by leaps and bounds, though I don't really think he considers that an achievement." She clasps a hand over her mouth. "Sorry. I think I've said too much."

I shake my head. "I'm the one who should apologize. It must seem like I'm prying, but in truth, I'm just trying to understand the situation so I can help Marianne better."

Janice smiles. "You must be a good teacher, Quinn, if you take so much interest in your students. If only there were more teachers like that."

"Oh, stop it." I try not to blush. "It's a teacher's job to care, maybe even more than to teach."

"And yet of all the teachers I had, I had only one who I can say really cared. It's the sad reality."

I don't comment. Back when the local school was still around, I did run into teachers who cared only about their pay and their vacations.

"Did you always want to be a teacher?" Janice asks me.

I nod. "Yeah, though I'm not sure why."

Janice chuckles. "Then you were born to be one."

Was I? I nearly didn't become one. After I learned I was pregnant with Clive, I almost gave up on that dream. It was only because of my brothers' encouragement that I pushed on. I don't tell Janice that, though.

"What about you?" I ask her. "Did you always want to be a rich man's assistant?"

"Of course not," she answers quickly. "But the pay is good."

"Good enough for you to move out here to the middle of nowhere?"

"Well, I have another reason for that. My boyfriend and I just broke up and I thought a change of scenery would do me some good."

I frown. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Janice shakes her head. "He wasn't worth keeping. By the way, do you have a boyfriend?"

"No."

She looks surprised. "Never had one?"

"I had one in high school, but it wasn't serious."

"Of course it wasn't. You were too young. When I was in high school, forgetting my tampons was the most serious problem I had."

I chuckle. "I can still remember the looks on my brother's faces when I used to ask them to buy tampons for me."

Janice laughs.

As I look at her, warmth fills my chest. When was the last time I laughed with another girl apart from my mom? I can't remember.

I keep telling Clive he needs friends, but maybe I'm the one who wants one. And maybe, just maybe, I've found one.

"What?" Janice turns in my direction.

"Nothing," I tell her. "I just have a feeling you and I are going to get along."