Just the Nicest Couple(24)

Pam, the school secretary, is still in the main office when I go to check. She’s alone, pecking away on the keyboard. “I wasn’t sure you’d still be here,” I say, coming into the empty office. She looks up at me, over the computer, and smiles.

“Hi, Nina,” she says over the noise of the printer, which springs to life at the same time, spitting out pieces of paper.

“You work too hard, Pam. You should go home.”

“Look who’s talking,” she says.

I smile. “The flowers in my classroom. Do you know where they came from?”

“Some florist,” she says offhand, shrugging. “He delivered them today, during seventh period. I didn’t want to bother you when you were in class, so I walked them down after school,” she says, rising from her chair to go to the printer. “You weren’t there, so I left them. I hope that was okay.”

“Yes, of course. That’s fine. Thank you for bringing them down.”

“No problem,” she says. She takes the document from the printer. She looks at it to be sure it printed correctly, and then, satisfied, she goes back to her chair to sit. “That sweet husband of yours,” Pam says with a wink from behind the large desk. “Lucky you. Hell will freeze over before my husband ever sends me flowers at work. Is it a special day or did he do something he needs to make up for?”

I do a double take. Why does Pam think the flowers are from Jake? I ask her, “How do you know the flowers are from Jake?”

Pam doesn’t, I realize. She’s just speculating. She giggles. “How many men do you have sending you roses at work, Nina?” She’s right. None. But Jake never has either.

A look on my face must give me away. Pam realizes that I don’t actually know who the flowers are from. “Well, what did the card say?” she asks, her eyes narrowing.

“Nothing,” I tell her.

“Nothing at all? It was blank?”

“No, it wasn’t blank. There was a message,” I say, but the message didn’t help. If anything the message was so cryptic, it made it worse. “It said something like I hope these make you smile, because I love to see your smile. But the card wasn’t signed.”

“It wasn’t?” Pam’s face practically lights up. She says, “It sounds like either the florist forgot to include the sender’s name or you have a secret admirer, my dear.”

I leave the flowers on my desk when I go. I have too much to carry, and I don’t know that I want them going home with me anyway because what Pam said got under my skin. A secret admirer. It’s not that much different than a stalker.

I walk across the parking lot. I stayed so long after school that the teacher parking lot has cleared almost completely out. It’s close to four thirty now. School ended over two hours ago.

I walk quickly. I pay attention to my surroundings, but the solitude and the vastness of the parking lot suddenly overwhelm me and I feel anxious to get to my car.

I think again about the flowers. I should feel flattered by them. That was the sender’s intent, but I don’t feel flattered because I don’t know who they’re from. Someone knows something I don’t. Whether it was Jake or not, I don’t like that. And if it was Jake, then I don’t like this game he’s playing with me.

The content of the note was bothersome too. I love to see your smile, it said, which tells me someone is watching me.



CHRISTIAN


Lily is standing in the family room when I come home. I’m later than usual because Thursday nights I meet some guys at the gym to shoot hoops, and then we go and get a drink. Tonight I considered not going with them but coming home to Lily instead, though ultimately I decided to go because, after thinking about it, it seemed like the best thing for me to do—for both Lily and me to do—is to not break from routine.

Now Lily stands at the windows, looking away from me, out into the yard. Her arms are crossed, her brown hair hanging long and wavy down her back. I can tell from the way she stands that Lily is anxious about something, and I feel guilty for sticking around for a second beer.

I come up from behind. I set my hands on her shoulders and massage them, feeling the tension she carries in her shoulders and neck.

“Hey,” I say. Lily turns around, and I know something is wrong but, for the first time in a while, my initial thought is not that something terrible has happened to the baby. “What happened?” I ask.

“Nina went to the police,” she says.

“And?” I ask, slowly, drawing it out.

“She told them that Jake is missing.”

“Okay,” I say. “And what did they say?”

“They weren’t too worried about it. They think he may have left voluntarily.”

“Okay,” I say again, nodding. “That’s good, right? For us.” I smile. I reach for her hands. I try and stay optimistic. I’m not actually worried about this at all. I can see that Lily is upset but I think I knew that inevitably Nina would one day go to the police. She had to. She couldn’t let her husband be gone forever and not say anything. It would be cruel if not suspicious. Lily nods, but I can tell she’s not so sure this is a good thing. “It’s okay, babe. Don’t worry about it. It’s a formality.”

“There’s more,” Lily says.