The Last One (15 page)

TEACHING ART WAS NOT something I’d thought seriously about doing until this past year. When I’d started college, it had been with the same grand illusions of other art students: I would live in an attic in Paris, surviving on crusty bread and cheap bottles of wine, until I was discovered and became a Famous Artist. Happily, SCAD did a good job of introducing us to the realities of life. Most of us would end up using our talents and degrees in art-related fields, like design, advertising or illustrating. A few might nab jobs at museums.

But none of those fields interested me in the least. Neither had teaching, but when I looked at all my options, it seemed like the lesser of several evils. At least I’d still be creating, and I’d get summers off. A good part of my motivation for signing up with ArtCorps had been to see if I could handle working in a school setting.

As it turned out, though, I loved it. The kids were so excited every day when I announced our project, and they worked hard. I had a few volunteer parent helpers in the classroom, and I’d found them enthusiastic as well.

“Art wasn’t like this when I was in school,” one of them confided to me as she helped me clean up. “It was just crayons and construction paper. Scissors and glue. This is cool.”

I laughed. “I figured this summer should be an overview for the kids, introducing them to as many different mediums as possible.” So far we’d done watercolor, pencils sketches and collage, in addition to today’s charcoal drawing. I was excited to see what they would do with pottery and 3-D sculpture next.

“Such a shame that we can’t do this all year around. Some of the kids are really talented.” The mother sighed as she dropped chunks of charcoal into a bucket. “I’m happy to see so many of the older children get involved, too. You do a good job teaching so many different grade levels.”

“It’s fun.” I slid a stack of paper into a drawer. “Kind of like what it must have been like on the frontier, you know? In the one room schoolhouses.”

“Exactly.” A loud crash sounded out in the hallway, and she rolled her eyes. “That’s got to be my two hellions. Two hours of sitting still translates into an afternoon of frenetic activity to make up for it. Thanks, Meghan. See you next week.”

“Thanks for your help.” I began packing up my bag to leave, making sure everything was neat and tidy. Having a classroom of my own was fun, I decided. Although if I were teaching here for real, during the school year, I’d set up my bulletin boards differently. And I’d have tables instead of desks ...

A knock on the open door broke my reverie. I looked up to see Sam standing just outside in the hallway, his worn blue baseball cap twisted in his hands. He shifted from foot to foot and glanced around as though he expected the principal to appear and ask him for a pass.

“Hey.” I came around to the front of my desk and leaned against it, although what I wanted to do was sprint over to him, take his face in my hands and kiss him senseless. He looked taller than ever in this setting, with the miniature chairs all around us. His brown T-shirt had smudges on it, but the way it clung to his chest more than made up for that. And his jeans ... soft old blue jeans ... fitted him perfectly in places that I didn’t want to think about.

“Hey.” He gazed around the room. “Class is over? Everyone’s gone?”

“Yup.” I smiled. “Were you planning on doing some charcoal drawing today? Sorry, too late.”

His eyebrows knit together. “Charcoal?”

I pointed to the bulletin board on the far side of the room, where today’s projects were displayed. “The masterpieces.”

“Oh. Cool.” He spared them a glance before he came inside the room, being careful to stay at least five feet from me, with desks between us. “I wanted to talk to you here, away from the house. About this morning.”

I frowned and tilted my head, as though every second of that kiss weren’t burned into my memory. “This morning?”

“Yeah. Outside.” He swallowed. “When I kissed you.”

“Kiss? Hmmm. Not sure I know what you mean. Maybe you need to refresh my memory.”

He exhaled, smacking the hat against his thigh. “Meghan ... what I mean is, it was a mistake. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it.”

I’d figured this was coming. “Okay.”

“What?” His eyes widened, and he took a half-step back, nearly losing his balance and falling into a desk.

I spread out my hands in front of me. “Okay. You shouldn’t have done it, you’re sorry. No big deal.” I hoped he couldn’t hear the pounding of my heart that contradicted my words.

Sam’s eyes narrowed. “It isn’t a big deal?”

I laughed. “No, it isn’t. You were pretty clear last night about what you want—or rather, what you don’t want from me. I’m a big girl, Sam. I’m not going to cry and carry on like a lovesick teenager, just because you got a little carried away this morning.” I pushed off the desk and stepped forward until I was standing nearly on top of him. I could smell sweat and soap and maybe even a hint of rich soil. I touched him in the center of his chest with just my finger.

“After all, it was only a kiss.”

I bit back a smile at his quick hiss of breath. His hands clenched on the hat, and his lips parted. For a second, I thought he might grab me, but when he didn’t, I moved around him to the windows, where I pulled down the window shades.

“What are you doing in town, anyway?” I snapped the last one shut and returned to the desk to get my bag. “You didn’t come all the way in here just to tell me you didn’t mean to kiss me, right?”

Sam shook his head a little, as though clearing it. “No. No, I had to, uh, drop off a soil sample at the Farm Bureau.”

“Oh, good. Well, I’m done here.” I held up the ring of keys and let them jingle. “I need to lock up the classroom. After you?”

He stared at me a minute more before he nodded and walked back out to the hall. I followed, clicking off the lights and shutting the door behind us. I turned the key in the lock and dropped the ring into my handbag.

“I guess I’ll see you back at the house.” I started walking toward the front door as he trailed behind me.

“Yeah. I’ll see you there.”

It took every bit of my self-control not to turn around to see if he watched me walk to my car. I drove out of town under the speed limit, but once I reached the open back roads, I rolled down the windows, blasted the radio and floored it.

This man was driving me crazy.

I’D CALMED DOWN BY the time I pulled up in front of the old white farmhouse. Bridget was in her mother’s herb garden, watering the plants, and she gave me a happy wave as I rounded the house and went into the kitchen.

“Hey, there. I heard charcoal was a big hit.” Ali turned from the stove, where she was frying battered green tomatoes. She spotted my face and her smile faded. “What’s wrong?”

I waved my hand. “Nothing. Not really. Well ...” I hesitated. “No. It’s nothing.”

Ali put one hand on her hip. “What did that dumbass brother of mine do now?”

I opened the fridge and pulled out the water pitcher, got a glass out of the cabinet and poured. “Why do you think it’s something to do with him?”

“You have the look of a woman pissed off at a man. And since to the best of my knowledge, the only men you’ve met in Burton are Sam and Boomer, and since Boomer is a pretty amiable guy and sticks to only pissing off his own wife, Sam seems like the most likely candidate.”

I took a long drink and set the glass back on the counter. “He’s maddening, Ali. I know he’s your brother, but it’s the truth. And the most frustrating part is that I knew exactly what he was going to do. Well, I didn’t know he was going to come to the school to do it, but I knew he was going to back-peddle and tell me it was a mistake. The kiss, I mean.”

“He went to the school?” Ali’s mouth dropped. “He left the fields in the middle of a sunny day to drive to town?”

“He said he was coming in anyway to drop off a soil sample.” I wasn’t really sure what that meant, but it sounded like something a farmer would do.

“Bullshit. The Bureau’s closed on Fridays. He went to see you, and that’s all.” She laughed and turned back to flip the tomatoes. “Hoo boy, does he have it bad. This is the best thing ever.”

“I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t agree.”

“Probably not. So what did you say? When he told you he didn’t mean to kiss you? What, did he trip and fall onto your lips?”

“He didn’t say that exactly. Just that he was sorry, it shouldn’t have happened, blah, blah, blah. I just said ... okay.”

“You did?” Ali turned down the flame under her pan and stirred another pot.

“Yeah. And you should have seen the look on his face. He expected me to pitch a fit, and when I didn’t, I think he was a little disappointed.”

She laughed again, almost a cackle. “Perfect. I can’t wait to see—oh, shhh. Here he comes.”

The old farm truck rumbled into the backyard, and Sam climbed out. He was considerably dustier than he’d been earlier in the afternoon, and the look on his face was anything but happy. I watched him stride over to the outside shed sink, strip off his shirt and wash up. And all I wanted at that moment was to be able to walk outside, slip my arms around his damp waist and rest my head on his muscled back. To do that, knowing he would turn in my arms and look down at me with a desire that matched my own ... I sighed.

“I have an idea.” Ali leaned toward me, keeping her eyes on the window. “Just follow my lead, okay? Trust me. And Jesus, girl, rein it in. You’re looking at him like you want to slurp him up with a spoon.”

I didn’t have time to answer her before the screen door squealed open and then slammed shut. Sam stomped into the kitchen. Droplets of water glistened on his chest, and his light brown hair was darker at the ends where it was wet. I clutched at the counter edge behind me.

“Hey, good timing. Supper’s about ready.”

Sam scowled at her. “I’m getting a shower. Start without me.” He started through the doorway to the living room until Ali’s sharp voice stopped him.

“No, sir, we will not. Grab a clean shirt and come sit down. These tomatoes will get soggy if we don’t eat them now, and we’re not being rude and eating without you.” She rapped on the window to get Bridget’s attention and motioned her inside.

Sam muttered something low under his breath, but he stepped into the small laundry room off the kitchen, chucked his dirty tee into a basket and took a clean one from the pile Ali kept there for him. I couldn’t help licking my lips as I watched him pull it on.

“Meghan, will you please put the potatoes on the table?” Ali thrust a steaming bowl in front of me, and I had no choice but to take it. I set it down in the middle of the long plank table just as Bridget came dancing in.

“Wash up, Bridge, we’re going to eat. Here, Sam, take the meat.”

In a few minutes, under Ali’s expert prodding and direction, we were all sitting down around the table. Sam asked the blessing on the food, in the words I was sure were an exact duplicate of the prayer his father and grandfather had used. As soon as we began passing platters and bowls, Ali glanced at me.

“Meghan, you know, I was thinking. This is your third Friday night in Burton, and all you’ve been doing is sitting at home.”

Across the table, I saw Sam’s arm freeze in mid-action as he spooned out boiled potatoes. I slid my eyes to Ali.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” I had an inkling of where she was going, but I also knew it was likely doomed to failure.

“Why don’t you go out tonight? You told me you love to dance, right? And you’ve been to the Road Block. You should go back there, go dancing.”

I wasn’t sure how to reply. “Uh, that sounds like so much fun, Ali. But I’m not sure I want to go over there by myself, and I don’t know anyone else in town. Or at least, no one to take me dancing. I’ve only met students and parents, and none of them seem like they’d make good dates.”

Ali swung bright eyes toward her brother. “Sam, you should take Meghan dancing tonight.”

He was shaking his head before the words left her mouth. “Nope. No way. I don’t do dancing, and I’m too tired to go out tonight. You might remember I’ve been out in the hot sun all day, in the fields?”

“
All
day?” Ali’s tone was arch, and Sam flushed.

“I’m not going.”

“Really, Ali, it’s okay. I’m fine to just—”

“What’s the matter with you, Sam? Are you afraid to take her out? Afraid of a little dancing? I remember when you used to be fun.”

At this point, Bridget and I were watching the back and forth like a tennis match. The little girl’s eyes, wide and wondering, met mine. I gave a little shrug.

“Ali, give it up. I’m not going out tonight.”

Temper flared in Ali’s brown eyes, so like her brother’s. “Fine. Then I will.”

“What?” All three of our voices joined in combined surprise.

“I haven’t done anything fun with a friend for so long I can’t remember the last time. If you’re not going to take Meghan dancing, then I’ll go with her. I wanted to check out the new bar, anyway.”

“What in the hell are you talking about, Ali?” Sam brought his hands down on the table. “Since when do you go to bars?”

“You might remember, brother dear, that I’m young. Maybe I’ve wanted to go out and kick up my heels for a long time, and maybe this is my chance. You’re not going anywhere. You can stay home with Bridget. Put her to bed at eight. And don’t wait up. We’re going to be late.” She dropped her fork onto her plate with a clatter. “Oh, and you can do the dishes, too. C’mon, Meghan. Go get dressed. We’re leaving in fifteen minutes.”