Page 2 of Rock Bottom Girl
I’d spent my entire life wishing I could be either the all-American girl next door like Mom or the exotic beauty like my adopted older sister. Zinnia was born in Calcutta and had grown into someone who could have easily enjoyed a modeling career had she not been so busy winning grants for worthy causes and changing lives.
“Tell us more, my beautiful angel,” Ned said, rolling onto his belly and resting his chin in his hands.
I half wished I’d succeeded in the suffocation. Usually my parents’ undying affection for each other was like an anchor in the storm. It was something to depend on, something I could always hold up my relationships to like a measuring stick. None of my relationships ever actually measured up to the great love of Ned and Jessica Cicero. And today, that love just reminded me that I was single, jobless, and hopeless.
“Well, I just got off the phone with Lindsay Eccles. You remember her, don’t you, Marley? She worked in the front office of the elementary school when you were in sixth grade. Remember how she went back to school and got her principal’s certificate? I still say that surprise party was a mistake. We almost gave the poor woman a heart attack…”
This was typical of Mom’s stories. They took the scenic route with nary a shortcut and rarely a punchline.
Dad listened, enthralled. I tuned out.
Culpepper, Pennsylvania, took “small town” and made it microscopic. As much as I would have liked to pretend that I had no idea who Lindsay Eccles was, I was inundated with the unfairly high-definition memory of Mrs. Eccles holding back my hair while I enthusiastically vomited in the trash can behind the front desk in the school’s office during the flu outbreak of 1992.
“Anyway,” Mom said, taking a deep breath. It was the signal that she was coming to her point. “She told me that Miss Otterbach just turned in her resignation this morning! She and her girlfriend are getting married and moving to New Hampshire to be closer to their family.”
My mother paused and looked expectantly.
“Uh. Good for them?” South Central Pennsylvania had come a long way since I’d grown up here. It was no longer the talk of the town to be a lesbian school teacher. But I still didn’t know what Miss Otterbach becoming Mrs. Otterbach had to do with me.
“More like good foryou! It turns out the high school is in desperate need for a phys. ed. teacherandgirls soccer coach!”
My dad’s feet quit swinging behind him.
“I didn’t know Miss Otterbach was the soccer coach.”
“She wasn’t,” Mom said, glossing over whatever she was hiding with a bright smile. Dad cleared his throat. He was picking up what my mother was putting down while I was still miles behind them both.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“She offered you the job, silly!”
“Me?”
Mom nodded, her eyes bright. “Preseason starts in two days. School in two weeks. Aren’t you over-the-moon thrilled?”
My mom doled out equal enthusiasm for all things. For instance, Zinnia’s straight A+ report cards and my solid Bs—with the occasional C—both received top billing on the refrigerator and a standing ovation from my mother. It made me feel like a bit of a cheerleading charity case.
“I don’t have a teaching certificate,” I argued. “And I haven’t touched a soccer ball in over a decade.” High school had been the bane of my existence. I had not thrived in the captivity of Culpepper Junior/Senior High. I had rebelled and complained and limped my way through the minefields of popularity, academic achievements, and athletic accomplishment. None of those had I any actual personal experience with. At least, not until senior year when I briefly dated Mr. Popularity and temporarily rose out of the middle of the pack only to be brutally slapped back down.
“It’s just for the semester until they can find a permanent replacement. You’d basically be a long-term substitute. The state has emergency contingencies in the case of open teaching positions since they started slashing pay and closing programs. There’s a shortage, you know.”
Before she could launch into her “sorry state of affairs in education” speech, I held up a hand. “I don’t understand. How did Principal Eccles even know I was home?”
“Oh, I have a weekly lunch date with some of my school friends.”
“And you told them I was moving home?”
Mom nodded cheerfully.Great. So all of Culpepper was now aware that the girl permanently banned from Culpepper Homecoming festivities was back, single, and broke.
“I really don’t know anything about gym class or coaching,” I reminded her.
“You can learn anything you put your mind to,” my mother insisted.
“Let’s go out and kick the ball around,” Dad chimed in. “You can talk it through with me and wake up some muscle memory.” He bounced off the bed and clapped his hands in anticipation.
With great reluctance, I dragged myself away from the safety of my mattress. I could always say no. I could just hunker down, lick my wounds, and start applying for jobs anywhere but here. I could do that.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I told them you’d take the job,” Mom said brightly.
