Page 11 of Under His Sheets
“Wow,” I said. “And his son is so sweet.”
“Oh, oui, he really is.” Josette, who taught English and French, clicked her tongue against her teeth. “So sad. His mother is so very kind. They were divorced two years ago and she was here for the rest of that school year, but then she had to go back to Morocco. Pere was very close to her. I helped him write letters to her in French.”
My heart hurt for the little kid. I hated to think that he would work so hard to try to impress his father when the guy obviously wouldn’t see his efforts.
“Senyor Ferrer is a menace,” one of the local teachers said, and a whole conversation erupted in Catalan, to which Lara held up a hand.
“Take care with your words. There may be big ears. If any of you have further issues with him, please send him to me.”
The Catalan speakers glanced around and apologized in hushed voices.
“No need,” she said with a kind smile. “All good. Now, Randall, since you’re joining us mid-year, tell us more about you since we’re all bored with each other.”
Everyone laughed, but one of the French women touched my arm and said, “What I really want to know is what happened to your band? I remember seeing you guys on the MTV Europe Awards!”
To add to my mortification, the three French women all started singing our last top twenty hit, “Trouble Kind.”
“Now, everyone, be nice to Randall,” Lara said, placing her hand on my back as she set a shot glass in front of me. “Let him settle in before you start attacking him, chismosas.”
I barked out a laugh at her use of the word for gossips.
“We want him to stick around,” Lara stage whispered. The staff all held up their drinks and she addressed the group. “A toast to Randall Sutter. Thank you for bringing music back to our school.”
Everyone cheered, I downed that shot, which turned out to be tequila, and two more. I was feeling really happy about Randall Sutter 2.0 when suddenly my music was playing over the sound system to the bar, Josette was dragging me out to dance, and then we took the party out to the beach, where I dipped my toes in the Mediterranean for the very first time.
A nearly full moon hung low in the sky and I took in a deep breath.
This was good. I liked this. I’d made a good decision to stay here. Too bad the one who’d inspired my reinvention wasn’t beside me.
But then, perhaps his only role had been to get me out of danger and into this 2.0 phase. I’d be grateful for what I had in my life. A new job, new friends, and a new home in a lively and exciting place. It was up to me to make it great.
FOUR
Sunday 7:43 AM Castelldefels,Catalonia, Spain
Half of my first weekend as a teacher in Spain was spent hungover. My new colleagues thought it was hilarious that I got so inebriated on just a few shots and vowed to break me into the world of drinking like an authentic European. I went with my new French friends Josette, Camille, and Sasha to brunch on Sunday, and it was so nice to have the company. I didn’t even mind that they fussed over me. It made me realize that my band had been on the outs for a lot longer than I’d thought. When was the last time we’d gone out to eat together? Or explored the areas around our gigs? Once we got to our destinations, Rig and Halo would go off by themselves exploring and rarely invited me to join them for meals. I’d hang out with our tech, Bruno, and our driver, Medium Mike, or wander by myself.
Randall Sutter 2.0 suddenly had friends, and it was nice.
As we were walking back to our complex, we passed a liquor store and I had an idea.
“Oh, hey, I need to grab a bottle of wine.”
They followed me in, curious.
“What’s the occasion?” Sasha asked.
“I wanted to thank Alonso for fixing my bike.”
“Oh! That’s right. You are quite lucky you were not hurt. I heard it was a terrible fall,” Josette said, patting my arm.
“Thank you. Would have been tough to teach music with a broken arm. Hey, do any of you know him?” I stopped in front of the wine display and saw a familiar bottle. A cabernet from Segura International. I was pretty sure it was the stuff Alonso’d had that night. I grabbed two bottles, one for him and one for myself.
The three women giggled. “No, I’m afraid,” Josette said. “Camille tried to invite him to come to Friday Social but he declined.”
Camille sighed. “So sad. He’s quite beautiful behind those caps he wears.”
“Has he been at the school long?” I tried to sound vaguely interested. I shouldn’t have been digging, but these three seemed to be a font of information about everyone. They’d already told me who was dating who despite the fraternization rules, and they let me know that more than one mother had already asked about my relationship status.
