Page 7 of September Lessons
“Oh. Yeah. I got work this weekend, too.”
“What do you do?”
Another customer popped through the door. His trucker hat and heavy camo jacket took up the whole doorway as he fished for his debit card and commented on how good pizza places always smelled.
“I do some odd-jobs down at the B&B out of town. Ms. Tichenor also helps out around there, if you can believe it.”
“Tichenor…”
“English teacher. Third period? We’re in the same class.”
“Oh. Right.” That whole week had been a giant blur. So many new teachers and classmates to remember. Carrie was lucky that there were only a hundred of them. “That would be weird, working with a teacher.” Also said a lot about how much they were paid around there. Ms. Tichenor had to work on the weekends, huh? Go figure. “Anyway, I gotta get back to work.”
“I gotta get going, too.” Leigh-Ann backed away from the corner, pizza tucked beneath her arm. The guy in the hat and camo was still glued to his phone when he stepped forward to the register. “See you Monday.”
Carrie didn’t have the chance to see Leigh-Ann off. As soon as she turned around, the new customer was asking for his two medium pizzas and plopping a plastic card on the counter. Skylar popped out of the kitchen with two boxes and a big hello for Phil, whoever that was.
Do I have a friend now? Is that what this means?Carrie wondered what was up with Leigh-Ann. Did she not have any other friends? Did she have a crush on Carrie? Was she a social pariah and Carrie had shot herself in the foot by hanging out with the trailer park girl?
How much do I care?
She could have as easily wondered that about her own social currency as she could her own maturity. For now, she’d take the win that someone was willing to talk to her here and there. Carrie’s focus of completing school – and maybe having a girlfriend, because a woman had needs – came before becoming the social queen bee of Paradise Valley.
Chapter 4
LEIGH-ANN
Leigh-Ann hadn’t been completely truthful when she told Carrie she had to “work” that weekend. Because she didn’t get paid to do chores around Waterlily House. Instead, she earned valuable volunteer hours that allowed her to graduate on time.
It had started as a genuine effort to get those 40 hours.I still remember that day sophomore year when Sunny came into Ms. Tichenor’s class and pitched a volunteering opportunity that would teach us about hospitality and some landscaping.Leigh-Ann was the only one who volunteered, since all the positions at the library, firehouse, and city hall were taken by those who knew to get their hours in early. At three hours every other weekend, Leigh-Ann had quickly amassed the prerequisite time to graduate, but she didn’t stop going. She liked it at the quiet B&B outside of town. Sunny was a genial woman who didn’t ask too much of the help. Although Sunnywasa bit of a control freak, explaining why she liked to do most things herself. Yet when it came to cleaning and other chores, she was more than happy to let the likes of Leigh-Ann – and Ms. Tichenor, of all people – do the grunt work.
Maybe it wasn’t glamorous. Maybe it didn’t make her any money, although the school counselor told her she might get a decent college scholarship if she played up the skills she learned. Yet Leigh-Ann enjoyed any opportunity to get out of the house and out in the fresh air. She wasn’t outdoorsy, per se, but she liked having some sun on her skin and talking to the interesting guests who filtered through the house.
Sometimes they were recurring, like Mr. Murphy, a writer from Portland who often stayed at Waterlily House to work on his projects. He always treated Leigh-Ann with the kind of deference most rural teens weren’t used to receiving. “Miss Hardy” worked for Leigh-Ann, though, since as long as she could remember she was a fan of how her last name sounded like “hearty.”Like that pizza we ate for dinner last night. Woof.Leigh-Ann had raided her mom’s antacid bottle after eating the greasiest slice in the box.
Mr. Murphy wrote on a yellow legal pad out on the deck while Leigh-Ann watered the potted plants. He usually kept his nose to his own work, but every once in a while he looked up at Leigh-Ann and removed his reading glasses to say, “Those petunias are looking mighty well for this time of year. You’ve got a green thumb, huh?”
Although he had never done or said anything untoward to her, Leigh-Ann still put up her walls whenever men like Mr. Murphy addressed her like that.As if I know anything about Petunias…She knew they had to be watered, and after two years of volunteering, she had a good idea regarding how much to water them. Sometimes she arrived to a note in her workstation asking her to lay off for a day or two. If it rained, she didn’t have to water anything. Except they had another dry spell recently, and Leigh-Ann could peek at the soil and see it was a bit dry.
“I’ve got some kinda thumb, I guess.” The plastic watering can hit the porch, allowing Leigh-Ann to stretch her back and get a kink out of her neck.
“You started school this week? I hear the kids out here go to school after Labor Day.”
God, why was he talking to her? Was he really that hard up for something to distract himself with? “Yeah. We just started school. No homework yet, though, so that’s pretty nice.” That was a bit of lie. She had some reading homework for English, but joke was on Ms. Tichenor. Leigh-Ann had already read1984and was taking the easy A for that quarter.
Mr. Murphy sagely nodded and went back to his notes. Leigh-Ann stared at the back of his head before realizing he was done talking to her.What a weirdo.She picked up the can and went back into the house.
“I can’t take the weekend off.” That was Sunny Croker’s voice filtering through the kitchen. Leigh-Ann had been on her way back there to refill the can, but slowed her steps when she realized her boss was on the phone. “I’ve got a whole family coming here later this evening. They need settling in. You wanna see me, Bran, you’re gonna have to come to the house. No, I’m serious. I can’t drop everything when I had this last-minute party rent most of the rooms here! I like to keep my Travelocity reviews up, thank you. Retention rates here are high for a reason. What are you yammering about now?”
Leigh-Ann could have asked the same thing about her boss. Sunny didn’t usually have these personal conversations so in the open around Waterlily House. Then again, she wasn’t married until a couple of months ago, and if there was one thing Leigh-Ann knew about marriage, it was that couples fought way more than unmarried people. One only had to look to her own parents.
“Seriously, Brandy, I’m sorry that I can’t drop everything to come into town and see you. That’s what I’m saying you can…” Sunny looked up and caught Leigh-Ann’s gaze from across the room. “I gotta go, hon. If you want, I can swing us some pizza or something for dinner in my house. Let me know if that works for you via text. Okay, bye.”
Sunny hung up on her wife and pocketed her phone. Leigh-Ann filled up the plastic water can in the kitchen sink. She wasn’t going to say anything.
“Sorry about that.” Sunny cleared her throat. “Hope you don’t mind if my wife comes over for a few hours later. Although you’ll probably be gone by then…” Hey eyes lit up as she remembered something. “Will you be here later to help with the party’s check-in? I mean, I can handle it myself, but they will be checking into three different rooms. Guess someone’s getting married in town.”
Leigh-Ann shut off the faucet. “I should be able to hang around for another couple of hours. My parents don’t care as long as I’m back by curfew.”
