Welcome to Forever (3 page)

This didn't bode well for Seaside Elementary. Ben had barely been here two hours and already he'd been involved in some sort of incident.

Micah walked right in, didn't bother to speak to the office secretary, and headed straight toward Principal Chandler's open office door, pausing at the sight of her—wearing the same fitted skirt that had hugged her body so perfectly this morning.

He glanced over at the wheelchair in the center of the room and back at her. “Where's Ben?”

“He's in class, sitting in one of the nurse's spare wheelchairs,” she said.

Which was no doubt oversized for his small frame. “Is he okay?” Micah asked, his voice coming out harder than he intended.

She nodded as she stood and walked around her desk. “Yes, he seems fine. As I said on the phone, I'm very sorry about this, Mr. Peterson.”

“You can't monitor every second of the day. I know that.” But she could make damn sure Ben's teacher kept better control over her classroom. Ben had already been nervous about being the new kid. Micah could only imagine how he was rolling with Seaside's punches thus far. But if she said he was fine, he wasn't going to interrupt Ben's first day any more by checking on him while he was in class.

He crouched beside the chair and inspected the tire. Last year's chair had solid rubber tires that never would have gone flat. This one had pneumatic tires that resembled those on a ten-speed bicycle, allowing him to move over more surfaces, including outdoors. “Tell me again what happened.”

“A child stabbed it with his pencil,” she said, stepping up beside him. “I don't think it was directed at Ben as much as an attention tactic. The school will pay for any replacement parts.”

Micah laid a bicycle repair kit down on the floor and started to patch the puncture, doing his best not to notice Kat's long-as-summer legs standing a few feet away. “It needs a patch and some air, just like if you had a bike flat. I keep a kit on me at all times.”

“I see.” She shifted around, as if looking for something to do. “Would you like some coffee?” she asked.

“Love some.” Micah had been up more hours than usual, which may have accounted for his outburst this morning. He'd been an ass, and he knew it. But Ben was his son and, while he was easy to love, it was damn hard not to worry about him.

Glancing over, he watched her grab two mugs from a cabinet, enjoying the view as her skirt raised two inches along the backs of her thighs.
Bless the person who'd placed those mugs on the top shelf.
But he wasn't supposed to be looking at the good—and engaged—principal that way.

“He had a flat last month, too,” he said, redirecting his attention to the task in front of him. “The mobility guy who sold us this chair said flats could happen, but rarely did.” Shaking his head, he reached for the mug of coffee that she handed him. “I guess he didn't realize how active Ben was. Especially for a kid with his level of cerebral palsy.”

She pulled up a chair and sipped her coffee as she watched.

Her high-heel shoes were gone, he noticed. There were a lot of things he noticed sitting at this angle. His man parts reacted without consulting with his brain first. His brain knew that checking out Ben's principal was a bad idea. Clearing his throat, he forced his eyes back to the chair and started pumping air into the tire. He refocused his thoughts back on his son. “Ben might've said it didn't bother him, but believe me, it does. He knows you can't control what others do, but today'll hurt. The best I can do is teach him to hold his chin high. It's not as much fun to bully someone who doesn't let it get to them.”

“That's pretty good advice.” She held on to her mug with both hands, making her look too young to be in charge of a school. When he met her gaze, however, he saw what a quick glance of her appearance didn't tell: It didn't matter how young she looked, she'd already seen too much in life.

Which raised all kinds of questions in his mind that he had no business contemplating.

“Listen, I'm sorry about this morning,” he said, lowering his voice and turning back to the wheelchair. “Ben had a rough time last year. I just want to make sure he does okay here.”

“No need to apologize. And he'll be fine. We're in this together.”

In this together. Those words were foreign to him. Since Jessica had quit her role as mother, he'd been handling everything on his own. Of course, Kat hadn't meant anything by saying that. She was a principal and he was a parent. In that sense, they were a team. But damn if something about those words didn't make him ache. It also made him feel like running the hell out of her office, which he needed to do anyway. His phone was blinking, no doubt signaling a dozen messages from his squadron. “Ben's wheelchair is ready to use,” he said, standing.

“That was fast.”

“I'm a pro at patching tires,” he said, relieved there wasn't damage to the chair. Ben's fragile ego was another story. “I'll pick him up after school.” He placed his empty coffee mug on the counter and headed toward the door, feeling her follow behind him.

“Again, I'm s—” she began, stopping when he turned back. “Right. I already said that. Well, hopefully our next meeting will be under better circumstances.”

A few lurid fantasies of reasons he'd like to be called back to her office filtered through his mind. Reining in his imagination, he waved. “See you this afternoon, Kat.”

As he walked through the front office, he tipped his head at the young secretary, who was smiling like the cat who'd swallowed a canary.
What was that about?
He probably didn't want to know. He had bigger things to worry about. Tonight, he'd have to break his son's heart and tell him that his mother was going back to war—that she'd volunteered to go.

Micah climbed into his Jeep and headed toward the military base. If Jessica was going to be an absentee mother, he'd just have to be a better father. That meant no more dating women like the last one he'd gone out with—Nicole. And certainly no ogling his son's principal. Even if he was interested in dating, Kat Chandler had a ring on her left hand, which made it as clear as the diamond at its center that she was off the market.

Dinner sizzled on the stove in front of Kat—a can of SpaghettiOs.

“You know, if you keep cooking for me, I might not go back to Doug when he gets home. I might stay with you,” Val said, pulling her thick, black hair into a ponytail. “The dad is hot, by the way.”

Kat kept her eyes on the food. “Dad?” she asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. She knew exactly who Val was referring to. Her matchmaking best friend always brought up the single, remotely attractive men who graced Seaside. Although, in Micah's case, attractive was an understatement. He was so hot, he practically had steam rising from his muscled body. His social skills, however, were slightly lacking and, as hot as he was, he could be a bit of a jerk. A well-intentioned jerk, but…

“Yeah. The DILF,” Val continued.

Kat turned the heat down on the stove and served up two bowls of pasta. “Do I even want to know?” she asked, plopping on the stool beside Val's.

“Dad I'd Like to Fuck. You know. Guys call it MILF, Mom I'd Like to—”

Holding up a hand, Kat shook her head, always surprised at the things that came out of the local preacher's daughter's mouth. “Got it. Geez.” Laughing, she stirred her pasta. “On that note, I spoke to Julie last night. She's coming to town this weekend.”

Val emitted a low grunt as she ate. “Alert the presses.”

Kat looked over, her mouth quirking to one side. “She says she wants to take me out to the bars and nightclubs in search of my rebound guy.”

“Bars and nightclubs? She does remember that this is still Seaside, the place where we were born and raised? Only one bar and zero nightclubs.” Val's brows hung low. “Besides, I'm your best friend. I'm the one who's supposed to help you find your rebound guy.”

“You know I'm not looking for a relationship right now. It'll just be us sitting around and checking out Seaside's selection. Besides, I was thinking that you could come with us.”

Drawing back, Val's eyes widened. “Oh, no. I have never been a huge fan of your sister. Hanging with you two would only spell a weeklong migraine for me.”

Kat scooped pasta into her mouth, considering this. “We've been out of high school for nine years. Don't you think it's time to shake hands and make up? Turn the other cheek, or whatever your dad would advise, per the Good Book.”

Val's bright blue eyes bore into hers. “She stole my boyfriend right from under my nose. It's unforgivable. And I don't like the way she treats you. When was the last time she even called to ask how you were?”

“Before last night? A year ago maybe. We have busy lives.”

Val shook her head, returning her attention to her dinner. “You aren't too busy for anyone. You're the most caring, giving person I know. Julie, on the other hand, is a soul sucker. She's the one who's too busy to grace her own hometown, even after John was killed.” Val's expression softened as she realized what she'd said. “Sorry. I didn't mean to—”

“It's fine. I'm done crying into my SpaghettiOs.” Unless she'd had too much to drink, which she rarely ever did.

“Did you ever make it to that support group? The one at the Veterans' Center?”

Swallowing thickly, Kat shook her head. “No.”

“Why not? I think it'd be good for you. You could connect with other Marine widows.”

“Except I'm not a widow. John and I were never married, remember? It just wouldn't feel right. A lot of the people who go to those meetings were married for years. They have kids.” Kat reached for her glass of water, her mouth suddenly as dry as paper.

Val watched her for a moment, and then sighed dramatically, setting her fork down. “Fine. I'll
consider
hanging out with you two.”

“Really? Yay! It'll be fun, I promise.”

Val's gaze lowered to the ring on Kat's left hand. “You might want to put that in your jewelry box while she's here, though.”

Staring down at the sparkling, oval-cut diamond, she shook her head. “I can't…yet. But I have started packing up his stuff. That's progress.”

“Yes, it's…
progress.
” There was a playful hint to Val's tone, lightening the mood for both of them.

“It's just hard. I hope you never have to go through it.”

Val's body tensed beside her. “Just because I'm dating a Marine, doesn't mean he's going to die.”

Crap!
She hadn't meant to say what she'd been thinking. She just didn't want her best friend to go through what she had. “I know. I didn't mean anything by that. I'm sure Doug will come home safe and sound. Most Marines come home safe and sound.” She heard her voice waver as she spoke, those pesky emotions rising to the surface.

Looking up, she offered her best I'm-completely-together-smile, knowing Val wouldn't buy it the way most did. Kat allowed herself a temporary moment of self-pity—something reserved only for when she was alone or with her best friend—and then she was done. Back to the positive. The future. “He was the one who encouraged me to take this job as principal. He believed I could do it, that I'd make a difference.”

“And you are,” Val said softly.

“I'm trying, but look at today. It was the first day of school and already there was vandalism and a student popped the tire of another child's wheelchair.”

“Two incidents. No big deal. You were perfect.”

“Huge deal.” Kat set down her spoon, no longer hungry. “Don't you remember how the last school year ended? Seaside Elementary was becoming known for its incidents rather than the fact that we have top-notch teachers and some of the highest academic scores in the state.”

Val nodded. “We're a military town. It's kind of natural for the kids to duke it out. Like dogs marking their territory.”

This roused a smile from her—one of the reasons she loved Val. “You're comparing my students to dogs?”

“Or wolves. It's the hierarchy of nature, or some shit like that.”

Kat collected her bowl and headed to the sink. “That's it. You're cut off from the Discovery Channel.”

“So, what are you going to do?” Val asked, following behind her.

“I don't know yet. But I'm going to do something, in John's honor. I'm going to turn Seaside Elementary into a place where students accept each other, care about each other—”

“And you're cut off from the Hallmark Channel.” Val gave Kat's shoulder a playful shove, then jumped as the phone rang in her pocket. “It's Doug,” she said, reading her caller ID. “I'll take it outside.”

Kat watched her friend disappear out the front door. Glancing down at her engagement ring, she thought about Julie's announcement that she was coming home for a visit. Julie was a lot of things, but Val was wrong about her. Her sister wasn't a soul sucker. She just had a different way of doing things. And if Julie had it her way, by the end of next week, she'd have John's stuff boxed up, the engagement ring on its way to a pawnshop, and a new man in Kat's life, possibly in her bed.

Well, that last part might be nice. She'd just have one ground rule—no Marines.

Micah glanced at Ben in the rearview mirror. He wasn't smiling. It had been a rough first week—not horrible, but it hadn't lived up to Ben's hopes—and now Micah had to stop procrastinating and finally tell him that his mother was deploying again.

“Pizza?” he asked, meeting Ben's gaze in the rearview mirror.

“On a school night?”

“Yeah, why not?” He tried to act like it was a spur-of-the-moment thing. Those rarely happened in the Peterson household, though. His workload and Ben's disability necessitated a schedule, which he did his best to maintain.