Fixer-Upper (Spinning Hills Romance 3) Page 4

  Rosa looked past him. “Melinda,” Marty said again. What was up with him? “Are you sure?”

  Johnny stifled a sigh. “Yes! Melinda!”

  Rosa’s eyes flickered from the window to Johnny, with a look that was affectionate and troubled all at once. She cleared her throat. “I know what I said a year ago, but the truth is, I know and trust you more than any other fool out there, and it’s obvious you care about everyone involved. You have my blessing to try, if that’s what you’re after, but I have to be honest . . . I don’t see the two of you together. You say you never saw her face. Maybe there was a mistake? Let me talk to her tonight before you arrive. I’ll ask her if she met someone at that masquerade a year ago and if she felt a connection, too, like you say. If she did, I’ll let you know. It might save you some trouble.”

  Marty fixed Johnny with a resigned look before shrugging. “The last few guys she’s dated sounded like total douche bags. I’d be a fool to get in your way after seeing what else is out there. And it wouldn’t be the first time a friend dates one of my sisters. Brian and Marissa have been serious for a while.” He shrugged. “But I know you, Johnny. If she agrees to go out with you and it doesn’t work out, make a clean break of it. Don’t soften the blow. That’s what gets you in trouble. One of the things, anyway.”

  Johnny frowned. Marty was rarely, if ever, insightful. His words were something to keep in mind and consider. He cleared his brow. For now, he’d revel in the fact that things had gone so well.

  “And you’d better watch out, Mom will be over the friggin’ moon. You know how she gets,” Marty added, before exchanging a loaded look with Rosa.

  He then went to fetch a sack of flour for his grandmother, and Johnny carried it across two streets to the café. Before they entered, Rosa put a hand on Johnny’s arm, stopping him. The day was bright and sunny, the sack heavy, and he was breaking into a sweat. “You know I never stick my nose in other people’s business—”

  Johnny couldn’t help it, he barked out a loud and expressive, “Ha!”

  She glowered and continued without missing a beat. “But I think it’s time you tell me what happened between you and Marissa. You used to be friends, and then you weren’t, and neither of you would tell me why. Marissa has always doted on Melinda, and if she has something against you . . .”

  Pain filled Johnny’s chest the way it always did when he thought about that long-ago day. The effects had changed him, deep inside, in places no one could get to. It was what had made him decide to become a school psychologist.

  But he and Marissa were adults now, and it was time they talked about the past. She had gone off to college in Florida, where she had relatives, and she’d been working as a teacher an hour away in Springfield this past year. He’d seen her and Brian around town a few times, from a distance. He’d played football with Brian and the old gang a few times, but he and Marissa stayed away from each other. It had become a habit.

  Rosa reached out to squeeze his hand, and her voice softened considerably. “I’m sorry, hon. I didn’t mean to bring up any pain.”

  Johnny looked into Rosa’s eyes and was met with unguarded wisdom and understanding. Rosa was outspoken, opinionated, and nosy. At that moment, however, he knew she’d respect his need for privacy.

  He shifted the sack and breathed a sigh that felt older than his years. “A mutual friend got hurt and Marissa blames me.” It was all he could say.

  Later that evening, Johnny strolled up the footpath he’d walked thousands of times before.

  It was the first time he’d actually felt nervous about it.

  His life was changing. It wasn’t a feeling; it was a fact. In just two days he’d start his internship with one of Dayton’s most challenging middle schools, and in a few moments, he’d see Melinda again. Every detail about the night of the masquerade party had been playing out in his mind during the last five hours. He hadn’t allowed himself to dwell on it too much during the past year because he didn’t want to build up the possibilities in his head. Keeping his mind occupied hadn’t been a problem.

  But right now, as he stood outside the door, it came rushing back. The guileless words and sentiments, the familiarity of her scent and her voice, the strength of that strange, underlying connection, the glimpse of deep, dark, sparkling, soulful eyes . . . a shiver crept up his spine as he knocked on the door.

  The door swung open. Marty’s mom, Michelle Medina, received him with a big hug, a huge smile, and a knowing look. Marty’s dad, Roberto, greeted him with a half hug and the same knowing look. Rosa came right up to him and whispered excitedly, “I talked to her. It’s her.” He stepped farther into the house.

  It was standing room only. People who’d gone to school with him, before him, and after him were milling about. He knew many of them, but there were a lot of girls there who’d gone to school years after him, and he barely remembered them. Probably Melinda’s old friends.

  Nearly everyone was watching him with secret smiles, bright eyes, and a conspiratorial air.

  So they all knew. Looking back at the easily excitable Michelle Medina, he could guess why. She was known to burst out with enthusiasm whenever she had new plans, ideas, or, in this case, news. She looked like she was about to burst right now.

  People began parting and making way for him. He knew Melinda was probably at the end of the human pathway. The feeling that things had gotten way out of hand crawled its way from his stomach to his throat. He caught his brothers’ gleaming eyes. The pent-up laughter oozing from their pores confirmed it.

  Only Marty wasn’t there. Probably still serving drinks. How he wished he was at Huffy’s, too. Why had he decided to talk to Melinda for the first time in a year at a party in her honor?

  Finally, Melinda came into view. His breath caught in his lungs. She was four years his junior and they hadn’t paid each other much attention growing up, but pretty little Melinda had grown into a total knockout. Johnny did a double-blink. Melinda caught it and smiled.

  She was tall and leggy with a swimsuit model’s body. Thick lashes framed sparkling eyes, and perfectly formed dark blond waves framed a tanned, gorgeous face.

  He caught it all, but he could hardly process it because almost everyone was looking back and forth between him and Melinda. He swept a quick, pointed look across the room. A few people caught it, chuckled, and went back to what they were doing before he’d walked in. Melinda stepped forward on a laugh, grabbed his hand, and led him outside to a bench at the edge of the patio, where no one could see them, and where, unfortunately, it was even hotter than it was inside.

  It had rained and the humidity was high. The scent of her strong floral perfume enveloped him. He looked into her eyes. They sparkled back at him, like hard amber in bright lights. Something wasn’t right.

  Melinda’s hand crept up his thigh as she leaned in to whisper, “So you’re the guy I made out with that night? I’d forgotten all about you until Abuela brought it up. Thanks for keeping it PG for her.”

  He was missing something here. “Uh, right. I think. Who—who did you go as?” he asked, stumbling over his words and knowing he sounded like an idiot.

  “Little Bo Peep,” she whispered into his ear, confirming what he already knew. It wasn’t her. Her hand continued its climb up his thigh. He inched away and felt as if his entire being had slumped out of his body.

  “What’s wrong? You weren’t this shy on that stairwell.” She bit his ear and Johnny shot up.

  How could he have made such a colossal mistake?

  Laughter and chatter from inside the house floated out to them. The look on Mrs. Medina’s face came back to him. Panicked, he paced. Why had Melinda’s invitation been in the elevator? “Um, who were you with that night?” he turned to her and asked.

  She studied him for a moment and her expression closed up. “With you on the stairwell, remember?”

  Johnny shook his head. Now wasn’t the time to figure out where he’d gone wrong. Right now, he had to deal wit
h everyone’s very obvious and very false expectations. Nobody would ever take him seriously again. His mind raced as Marty’s voice echoed, like a voice-over just before a confusing scene. Make a clean break. Don’t soften the blow. Melinda looked bored now, and he wondered, What blow? It wasn’t me, and she’d already forgotten about the guy she really kissed.

  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, MARRY ME, MARISSA, 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.

  Chapter 4

  Johnny 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 her
s 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.