An Unlikely Mommy. Tanya Michaels

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СКАЧАТЬ her denim Carter & Sons cap and a ponytail without the hat. Glancing down, she took in the faded George Strait concert shirt she’d tucked into her jeans.

      “I think I’ll run and change before heading to the garage,” she said, hearing the rueful note in her own voice.

      Her dad paused with a spoonful of shredded wheat halfway to his mouth. “What the heck’s wrong with what you’re wearing?”

      For the mechanic who’d be sliding on protective coveralls, anyway? Nothing. For the woman she’d started wondering if she would ever truly become? More than she could possibly articulate.

      BY THE TIME JASON APPROACHED the front of the high school, his paper bag from the Sandwich Shoppe in hand, there wasn’t much of his free period left to eat lunch at his desk. It would have been quicker to take his car, but the mid-March weather was ideal, providing the perfect sun-dappled, breezy backdrop for the picturesque town.

      “Afternoon, Mr. McDeere.” Allen, the custodian, stood a few feet away at the half wall that formed a horseshoe around the school’s courtyard. Just beyond the brick wall were several picnic tables, the flagpole and the stairs leading inside.

      Though the overall crime rate in Joyous was low, there had been some recent drive-by mailbox bashings and a spate of graffiti on the courtyard wall. Jason shook his head at the spray-painted suggestion that had appeared over the weekend. Obscene and misspelled.

      “I see our miscreants are keeping you busy,” Jason said.

      Allen grinned beneath his bushy gray mustache. “Beats spending the day inside solving plumbing emergencies. Principal Schonrock’s on the warpath, though. In the faculty lounge, she was threatening to cancel Spring Fling if the vandalism continues, but talked herself out of it, not wanting to penalize the whole student body for the actions of a few.”

      Spring Fling was the formal dance at the end of this month. Since Jason hadn’t attended Homecoming in October or the Holiday Ball in December, Betty Schonrock had made it clear she expected Jason to take his turn and help chaperone the Fling. He’d gone so far as to promise his second-period class that if every one of them memorized either the Queen Mab speech from Romeo and Juliet or Mark Antony’s address in Julius Caesar, Jason would hit the dance floor to bust some old school moves. All part of his ongoing attempts to get the students engaged in Shakespeare.

      Plan B was to point out some of the more creative insults and dirty jokes in the Bard’s plays, but Principal Schonrock might frown on that.

      He took the stairs two at a time and had no sooner entered the building than he spotted the principal herself. She’d left the administrative office and was headed in the direction of the cafeteria. Betty was a diminutive but solidly built woman with a bob of silver-white hair and a sharp turquoise gaze that struck fear in the hearts of students, from pimply freshmen to linebackers on the Jaguar football team.

      “Speak of the devil,” Jason said as he fell in step with her.

      She arched an eyebrow. “That had better be a figure of speech and not a character assessment.”

      “Yes, ma’am. Allen and I were just discussing the graffiti and your determination to end it.”

      “God as my witness, even if I have to camp out in the courtyard every night with a sleeping bag, thermos of coffee and an industrial-size flashlight, I’m going to catch someone in the act and make an example of them.”

      “Those kids don’t know who they’re messing with,” he said affectionately. “I heard you even considered taking away Spring Fling.”

      Pausing, she slanted him a reproachful scowl. “Don’t sound so hopeful, McDeere.”

      “Not at all. I’m…looking forward to it.”

      “Good.” She nodded crisply before zeroing in on two girls standing near a bank of lockers. “Seneca, Jess. Do you ladies have some reason for loitering in the hallways?”

      “We were on our way to the media center to work on a research project for Miss Burrows.” The taller of the two answered while her friend spared a quick glance at Jason, then lowered her head, giggling. “We have a pass.”

      “Well, pick it up a little. I’ve seen injured turtles move faster than that.”

      The girls both nodded, skirting around the principal to make their way down the corridor. Whispers and laughter trailed after them. Though he hoped it was his imagination, Jason thought he caught his name.

      Principal Schonrock assessed him, arms akimbo. “About that spring formal, McDeere, I don’t suppose you’ll be bringing a date?”

      “Ma’am?” He was unprepared for the random question, though he assumed she wasn’t asking him out. Mr. Schonrock wouldn’t approve.

      “A date, McDeere. A female companion to whom you bring cups of ginger ale punch between rounds on the dance floor.”

      What was it with the people in this town and their preoccupation with his social life? “I plan to go stag. Stay focused on the kids, make sure no one smuggles a flask to spike the punch.”

      “I’ve got punch duty, no worries there.” She sighed. “You’re one of the best literature teachers we’ve ever had at this school, but you do pose the occasional problem.”

      “Such as?” Jason was genuinely baffled, but open to constructive criticism if it would improve his effectiveness in the classroom.

      For perhaps the first time since he’d known her, Betty seemed hesitant, glancing down the hall, checking in both directions before she replied. “When you were helping Coach Hanover with the cross-country team last semester, did you happen to notice how many divorced moms showed up at meets?”

      “They were there to support their kids.”

      “Some of them didn’t have kids on the team. Some of them didn’t even have kids at this school! Then there’s my own faculty. Shannon Cross has been teaching for four years and never once wore a low-cut sweater to a PTA meeting before you joined the staff. The way she and Leigh Norris bat their eyelashes at you over the coffeepot makes them seem more like students than educators. And it’s affected their professional relationship. Last Friday, I thought there might actually be a catfight.”

      “Er…” While he wasn’t comfortable with the increasingly flirtatious mannerisms of his two female colleagues, he was even less comfortable discussing them with the principal. “Maybe it would be better to have this chat with Ms. Cross and Ms. Norris.”

      “I have. But it’s not just them. You stand out conspicuously. We have a small staff here and very few male teachers. Aside from you, no male teachers who are single.”

      “That has no bearing on my job performance.”

      “Of course not, but you saw how Seneca and Jess reacted to you.”

      “Teenage girls giggle all the time,” he said stiffly.

      “Last week, Mrs. Feeney walked into the D Hall restroom and overheard three girls making dares on ways to get your attention. I dealt with it, but the fact of the matter remains that some parents…”

      Surely no one had ever accused him of flirting with СКАЧАТЬ