Fixer-Upper (Spinning Hills Romance 3) (5 page)

Melinda didn’t look like she’d care one way or the other. Could he get her to understand and help him explain?

He sat down on the corner of the bench. “I made a mistake, Melinda. And I’m very sorry. You’re a gorgeous woman, but the moment I saw you, I realized I had somehow confused you with someone else. I think it’s best if we just clear this whole thing up right now with everyone before—”

“
Excuse me?
” Melinda interrupted him, looking aghast. Her eyes flickered to the house and back at him. “You—you think you confused
me
with someone else? You can’t come out here and talk to me for
two minutes
and then suddenly decide you were wrong.”

Johnny raced a hand through his hair before looking back at her. Okay. He could see how that would be humiliating, especially with all her smiling, expectant friends inside. How had this gotten so out of hand? “I didn’t kiss anyone on a stairwell that night, and the girl I spoke to wasn’t dressed up as Little Bo Peep. We were at the same party, and the girl I met seemed very familiar and she dropped your invitation. It’s like a comedy of errors. But you can be the one who tells everyone it was all a mistake, if you prefer. You can say you met someone that night, too, but you knew it wasn’t me the moment we started talking. In fact, you can say anything you want. Whatever you feel good about,” he said, gently, wanting to make it as easy for her as possible. He’d go with whatever she wanted to do.

“So you’re denying you’re the guy who made out with me on that stairwell? You’re saying this girl Abuela Rosa was telling me about, the one you’ve been talking about for the past year . . . you knew she wasn’t me
the moment
I opened my mouth.”

Johnny closed his eyes. He’d hurt her feelings. Before he could apologize, Marty’s voice cut through the air. “What the hell is wrong with you, man? How could you make out with my sister,
on a stairwell
, tell me you want to date her, and then come here and reject her at her own party? Who does that? Who goes on and on for an entire year about someone, assures his best friend and his best friend’s
grandmother
that he’s a changed man, then does . . .
this!
” Marty’s rant started behind the gate that separated the backyard from the front yard and ended in front of Johnny and Melinda. Mrs. Medina ran out of the kitchen following the outburst and a few others followed.

Johnny got up. “Let me explain.”

“Then explain!” Marty demanded.

But all Johnny could do was stand there. What could he say? There were too many people listening and Melinda now looked thoroughly humiliated.

“That’s enough. You three should settle this without an audience.” Dan cut through the growing crowd. Next thing he knew, Sam and Dan were leading him out the side gate.

They took Johnny’s keys and drove him home. No one talked. No one asked. No one teased.

This time he’d gone too far,
and he didn’t even know where he’d gone wrong
. He’d waited so long and had felt so sure. Every clue had pointed him in this direction.

 

Marissa froze. It suddenly felt as if a thousand pairs of eyes were on her. She looked around. A thousand pairs of eyes
were
on her. The Jumbotron was flashing, M
ARRY
M
E
, M
ARISSA
, in giant red letters above a live feed of her and her boyfriend.
No wonder he’d insisted they skip her sister’s welcome home party and keep their date.

Brian got down on one knee and Marissa blinked away from the gigantic screen and looked down at the man kneeling before her. “Will you marry me?” he asked.

They were watching a game at Progressive Field, the Cleveland Indians’ ballpark. It was halftime. A huge, marquis-cut diamond sparkled in the setting sun. Panic gripped her. It was a moment she’d been dreaming about and expecting. But not like this. Not so publicly, with so many strangers watching and waiting. Not with such a big, cumbersome-looking diamond. She loved diamonds, but as a teacher, she preferred the karats to be spread out among smaller diamonds, to make it easier to wear. He’d hinted about a big diamond, and she’d explained about her job. They’d talked about it.

Out of nowhere, words that had been uttered to her a year ago came back to her.
You know Don Quixote doesn’t see Dulcinea for who she truly is.

Her stomach plummeted. But the people around her began to clap and Marissa woke up from her daze. They looked happy for them.

She swallowed. Of course they were. That he would go through all this trouble showed how much he loved her. He’d always said he wanted the world to know. And most women would think she was ungrateful and ridiculous for complaining about a big diamond.

She looked down at Brian. A speck of doubt flashed in eyes that only a moment before had been full of hope and love. She felt guilty about putting the doubt there. So she smiled and whispered, “Yes!” Brian shot up, grabbed her by the waist, and spun her around a few times before kissing her soundly. The crowd roared, drowning out the little doubts that every bride-to-be surely felt.

Her parents and grandmother would be thrilled. Her brother was already happy that one of his oldest friends and his younger sister were an item. And Marissa knew Melinda would love to be her maid of honor.

The timing was right. She’d just been offered the job of her dreams close to her family, and Brian would be transferring there from Cleveland within the next few months. Their year of long commutes would finally be over. Her five-year plan was on track. His five-year plan was on track. Her entire future was clicking perfectly into place.

J
ohnny pulled down the rearview mirror and gave himself a pep talk. He could and would help at-risk youth. It was his calling.

It was 8 a.m. on the first day of the first of two, six-month long internships he needed to complete in order to graduate, and he wanted to be sure he made a good impression on the middle school principal. He hadn’t worn glasses in years, since they interfered with sports, but he didn’t mind them today.

He’d gotten a crew cut, his first ever, but everything he’d learned, from his bachelor’s to his doctorate, had nearly gone out the window when his brothers took one look at him and started giving him flak. With his nerves already on edge over how angry so many people were at him for accidentally and once again screwing with a girl’s feelings, he’d been near his combustion point. He felt unworthy of his career choice at a moment when he most needed to believe in himself.

What he couldn’t understand was why Melinda was acting hurt. It hadn’t been her in the elevator, she hadn’t seen him in
years
. . . they didn’t know each other. He could understand that everyone’s anticipation had put pressure on her, but he’d told her they could handle it any way she’d wanted to.

Johnny snapped up the rearview mirror and shoved the thoughts and memories away. They weren’t helping.

He made his way into the middle school’s lobby and asked for Mrs. Simmons. A plump, raven-haired, middle-aged woman led him to the principal’s office. Mrs. Simmons looked up from her papers, stood up, and stretched out her hand to grip his in a firm handshake. Though her flawless, wrinkle-free, dark skin and braided hair gave an initial impression of youth, the way she held herself and the look in her eyes told him she must be older than she looked.

“Please sit down,” she said, and proceeded to lay down the lay and law of the land. After a long, but important and interesting list of rules, statistics, and expectations, she finished with, “As you may or may not know, we are the most diverse middle school in the entire region. Right now, we have students who come from seventeen different countries. We have more English Language Learners than teachers with Teaching English as a Foreign—or Second Language—degrees.
Politics are to be left at the door
. Students and their success are our only priority.”

Johnny had kept his eyes fixed on hers the entire time and he did not waver now. The events of the past couple of days disappeared. “I’m well aware you have students from Togo to Turkey to Honduras, and it’s why I requested this school. I not only look forward to serving all students, but to learning from them and from your staff, as well, Mrs. Simmons.”

Before long, they were engaged in an animated discussion. Johnny felt great hope for the first of his internships. He and Mrs. Simmons were entirely on the same page.

When she finally stood up, he did the same. “The school year starts on September eight. As you probably already know, you’ll have August off. Starting today, you’ll be supporting our two June teachers with a unique pilot program they’re testing. We’ll have regular summer school in July. I’d offer to escort you to the classrooms, but the office is short-staffed, and I have a ton of paperwork to get to. If you take the hallway to your left, you can stop by the two classrooms, introduce yourself, and have the teachers explain their special projects. When you’re done, Mrs. Dunne will show you to your office.”

They shook hands and Mrs. Simmons leaned in and finally offered him a smile. “I think you’ll be a huge asset to us, Mr. Amador.”

Johnny started down the hallway, a new feeling working its way through him. It felt like he was home. He stopped at the first classroom to the right. A woman with dark blond, shoulder-length hair was scrawling
The race is on!
on the board. Johnny tapped on the door. The woman looked back.

And Johnny felt as if his eyes were going to pop out of their sockets.

Marissa’s jaw dropped. What in the world was Johnny Amador doing at her classroom door? “Who told you I work here?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest and voicing the first thought that came to her mind.

“Why would anyone tell me you work here?” he asked, sounding as if he was completely floored to see her. In fact, the more he looked at her, the more stunned he seemed, tilting his head this way and that, as if he was studying something bizarre.

She dropped her hands to her sides. “I—I don’t know. My family is so mad at you over what happened Saturday night, when I saw you standing there I thought you came by to try to get me to understand. Or something like that,” she babbled. Something about the encounter felt surreal and she was struggling to get her bearings. Though they’d seen each other around town a few times, they hadn’t interacted in years. She gave her head a quick shake. “Let’s start over. What are you doing here?”

“I start my internship in school psychology today,” he explained, still looking and sounding dazed.

“
You’re
the new school psychologist?” she asked, feeling dumbfounded. She’d heard Marty talking about what Johnny had been up to over the years, and she’d wondered about it, but seeing him here, actually picturing Johnny Amador working with kids . . . Well, it made sense. She hadn’t expected that. She closed her eyes and took a quick, stabilizing breath before letting it out. “I’m sorry.”

Johnny’s gaze flitted about the classroom. “I take it you’re the ESL teacher?” He asked, and waited for her to nod before meeting her eyes with a solemn look. “I suspect we have similar reasons for being here, Marissa, and it looks like we’ll be working together, with kids who’ll look to us to set an example. Let’s try to get off on the right foot. It might help if we clear the air.”

He sounded so sincere and levelheaded. Marissa’s thoughts went ’round and ’round for a moment as she wrapped her head around the fact that he was right. They were probably both there for the same reason, influenced by the same event in their past. Painful memories threatened to surface and, with effort, she tamped them down. Why did she have to be reminded of them, in this way, on her very first day? She blew out a breath. It didn’t matter. Students would be walking through her door any minute. “You’re right. I guess.”

“You guess?” He cocked an eyebrow and grinned. The combination took her back to a time when she’d thought him the kindest, funniest, most gentle soul in the world. He’d also been the most misguided. They’d both been misguided.

“Okay. You’re right. We’ll be working together. It would probably help if we clear the air.” She glanced at the clock. “What happened with Melinda?”

Marissa had been too busy with her last-minute job offer to understand her mom’s winding, rewinding, and fast-forwarding explanation, but it was something about Johnny seeing Melinda, falling instantly in love, gallantly asking Abuela Rosa and Marty for permission to ask her out, and then saying he was wrong about her in front of a huge crowd of people, including her friends and frenemies, after only talking to her for two minutes.

Melinda was in a fragile place. It was the last thing she’d needed.

Johnny looked away and for one revealing moment, he looked like a lost little boy. But he quickly regained his confident demeanor and fixed her with a steady, serious gaze. “That’s not what I meant. We need to talk about what happened with Ana Maria first.”

Marissa didn’t want to talk about that. Not now. Maybe not ever. “We don’t have time to get into that. Let’s start with the immediate past.” She sincerely hoped he had a good explanation. Working closely with someone who had humiliated her little sister would be difficult. “What made you so sure you were into Melinda that you would involve so many people, only to blow her off in front of those very same people after talking to her for only a couple of minutes? It doesn’t make sense.” She looked at him as she spoke, but the intense, searching way he was watching her made her stomach feel funny.

He spoke in a slow, measured way as if every single word mattered. “I met a woman at a masquerade party last year and I was convinced it was Melinda. I told Marty and Rosa I wanted to ask her out—to see if we were as compatible as I’d thought we were that night—but the whole thing took on a life of its own and got way out of hand. I realized it was a mistake, and I
know
Melinda realized it, too, but she was acting strange, and Marty blew up.”

Stunned at the mention of the masquerade party, Marissa’s eyes flickered to the floor as she tried to push her own memories of that night aside. Revisiting those moments always left her feeling confused and uncomfortable. She focused her mind on what Johnny was saying. She remembered Melinda had gone off with a stranger that night and Marissa had caught them making out, heavily, after she’d gotten off the elevator. Had Johnny been that stranger? She glared up at him. “No wonder Melinda was hurt. Nobody wants to think they’re good enough to be groped, but not good enough to talk to!”

“
Groped?
” Johnny repeated, glowering at her.

“Yes. Groped. I saw you. You’re the troll I caught her making out with on that dark stairwell—”

“Wrong.” Johnny took a step toward her. His voice and demeanor were calm, but the angry flash in his hazel eyes silenced her. “I’m the prince
you
made out with in the elevator.” He turned and left, leaving her unable to move, think, or breathe.

Her heart slowed to a
thump
. She took a breath. And then another. Her eyes flitted about, trying to find something to cling to. The serene green-gray walls, the stenciled tree, snowflakes, and leaves, the huge map and clock. She’d painted, stenciled, and hung everything herself in just one day. It was to be a haven for her students.

The minute hand on the large rusted metal clock she’d thought so enchanting now served as a warning. She had only a few minutes to get it together. But her thoughts and feelings were too scattered to easily gather, and too powerful to brush aside.

That night in the elevator had been special to her. A moment to feel impossibly and illogically as one with someone else. She’d never told anyone about it. It had been her Vegas. One night to let go of the tight rein she had on her life, to do something out of character, before she committed to a relationship with Brian. Something that would remain where it happened.

And now Vegas was right here in her school.

A girl shuffled in, headphones on, eyes on the floor. Marissa forced a smile and introduced herself. The girl tried to answer, but it became obvious she knew little to no English. But her sweet and nervous smile washed over Marissa like a balm.

Marissa pointed to a huge map on the wall and held her hands up as if to ask,
Where are you from?
The girl said, “Bosnia.” She handed the girl a bright red thumbtack while leading her to the map.

 

Johnny stepped into the classroom next door and introduced himself to a petite brunette who appeared to be in her late forties. He coached himself to act present and attentive, even though he was mostly going through the motions. His mind was reeling more than he could handle at the moment.

The teacher introduced herself as Amy Jared, and she was saying something about teaching math to English Language Learners by working on a special project, and by using everything in their immediate environment. Johnny dutifully glanced around and made an effort to pay close attention so he could revisit it all later, when his head was clear.

But before long, he found himself actively listening and becoming invested in the teacher’s ideas. “I’ll be working with Marissa Medina. She and I met last year, when she was here for an interview. She had the idea back then, but it took all this time to get her position here approved. It almost didn’t make it on to this year’s budget, either. It was very last minute, so we haven’t had time to pull it all together. Mrs. Simmons and I held a parent meeting at the end of the school year and parents of the kids who signed up for these two classes were required to sign permission slips and commitments in case we’re finalists.”

“Finalists?” Johnny echoed.

“In the Mosaic Marathon. It’s a national competition. Finalists get to present a play or musical at the Mosaic Fair in Denver, Colorado, at the end of July, and Marissa and I need all the support we can get. We’ll be building props and applying for grants in case we do make it to the finals, and we’ll also need help recording our progress and uploading time-stamped videos for people to vote on”—she bit her lip and glanced at the clock—“and I’m making a mess of explaining it all. Can you meet with us sometime this week, maybe before or after school? Or during lunch?”

A musical. This was what Marissa had been talking about in the elevator. Johnny couldn’t wait to hear the details. So far, it sounded exciting. “Any day and time work for me. Ask Miss Medina what time is best for her, and let me know.” Students began filing in and Johnny took one last look around, trying to see the world through Amy’s eyes. He hadn’t gotten the chance to do that with Marissa.