Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
“Do it,” she says as she waves the statement away. “Let Ms. Walsh explain the abhorrent charges to the board.”
While the idea sounds tantalizing, the thought of making Lemon sweat in front of the school board doesn’t appeal to me. She already hates me for ruining her life, there’s no need for me to ruin her career as well. For as long as I can remember, being a teacher and principal was what she wanted to do. I thought she’d teach for a handful of years before taking the leap into administration. I guess that all changed when things went south for us.
Me, I was always content being someone’s lawn boy. Maybe that’s why she broke things off.
Back in my truck, I press Ana’s picture and hold the phone to my ear. I could use the handsfree option, but I don’t want people listening in while I sit in the parking lot.
“Hey,” she says when she answers.
“Hey,” I say back and sigh.
“Everything good with Marigold?”
“Yeah, she’s good. I’m worried about you though, Ana. Goldie said Franco was pinching you?”
The other end is quiet for a moment and then I hear Ana sniffle. “I thought it was nothing.”
“How long has this been going on?”
“Off and on,” she says. Without elaborating, I know she means the entirety of their rocky relationship.
“I’m going to ask again, has he ever hurt Marigold?”
“No,” she says right away. “I would’ve left him had he hurt her.”
But you let him hurt you?
I shake my head at the thought.
“At first, I thought it was innocent, that he was just being too rough, ya know? But then I realized he pinched because those marks were easier to hide. Then the pinching turned into squeezing . . .”
I press the tips of my fingers to the bridge of my nose in an attempt to even my breathing. I’m going to hurt this man if I ever see him. “You said he’d only hit you once when he put you in the hospital. Is this true?”
“Like that, yes,” she says quietly.
“Ana . . .” Her name drags out. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I was scared and embarrassed.” She weeps. “I thought I could get him to stop and then he didn’t, and it’d been going on for so long.”
“Does your dad know all of this?”
She pauses.
“Ana, if you don’t tell him, I will. We may not be together but you’re the mother of my child. We’re bonded for life. As her father, it’s my duty to protect you. Please tell your dad. He needs to know in case Franco shows up there.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for, Ana. Franco does. I just need you to get better so we can figure things out for Goldie.”
“I am,” she says. “Thank you.”
“You know the door is open if you want to come here. I know it’s not a place you want to live, but everyone loves Goldie, and they’d love you too.”
“Thanks, Wade. I’ll think about it.”
“Marigold will call you tonight,” I tell her before we hang up.
I set my phone down into the console and start my truck up. I’m already late to my first job, which is Ms. Linda’s. Thankfully, she won’t rake me over the coals for being late, and if she does, I’ll tell her how much I love her sweet tea and all will be right in Magnolia Grove again.
six
lemon
There are times in my life when I wish I still had the Magic 8 Ball to guide me. To tell me if a person I can’t name is the love of my life. When you’re a tween and using some toy to determine your future with the hottest kid in town—that’s very telling of how your life is going to turn out.
I’d shake it now if I had one, and believe me, I’m tempted to head to Walmart and buy one, two, or ten. Or at least stand in the aisle and ask the stupid thing my laundry list of questions.
Geez, I need help.
More help than I’m willing to admit.
I’m currently hiding in the utility closet, with the door ajar so I can peek through the thin crack and watch the scene in the hall unfold. Being the adult I am, I ducked into the closet when I saw Wade come out of Ms. Matson’s room instead of putting on a brave face and holding my head up high while I walk past him.
I’m such a coward.
And now I’m stuck in here, with the pungent scent of cleaner mixed with plastic while my not so faithful secretary sends my ass down the river with a hole in my rowboat and no oar to get myself to shore. I can easily say I forgot to contact someone about the fifth-grade garden while Jean was out of the office. I can also say I was busy, between the school board meeting and other important school activities. What those were, I can’t say because my mind is nothing but a revolving prism of mush.