She wasn’t taking his calls. He knew better than to show up on her doorstep. How was he supposed to fix this? Dean drove past Shannon’s driveway on the way to his interview at the elementary school. She wasn’t home. If he’d had flowers, he could have left them for her to find. She’d probably throw them away.
This was supposed to have been an exciting day for him. Shannon was supposed to know who he was by now. Then if he got the position as music teacher at Scallop Shores Elementary, they would have celebrated together. It was his chance to make a place for himself in the community.
Now he was starting to wonder if this was the place for him. In the short few months he’d been here, Scallop Shores had grown on him. He could separate out the locals from the tourists. He was starting to be recognized around town, not for his role as a former boy band member but as the newest addition to the town. It felt good. It felt right. But what if Shannon had let word spread about the paternity suit?
He wasn’t giving her enough credit. But he couldn’t help that small niggle of doubt, that stinging wound left by every other woman he’d dated. He knew he should trust her to keep his business private, and it disgusted him that he even let those doubts in. Shannon was different. He trusted her with his heart; now he needed to trust her with everything else.
“Hey, Dean.” One of the local cops, Chase, if he recalled correctly, waved as he stepped out of Logan’s Bakery.
Dean studied his face for censure and, finding none, smiled and waved back. He ducked into the shop and headed for the register to place his order.
“Good morning, Dean. How are things?” The woman who ran the joint, Cady, asked him.
“Great, just great. Can I get a latte to go?” He stared hungrily into the display case. “And a bear claw, please?”
“You got it.” She started the milk steaming and then reached into the case for his pastry. “Where are Shannon and the kids today?”
Small town, indeed. “I, uh … ” How much to reveal? “Shannon’s not talking to me. I think I screwed this up.”
“Oh, don’t be silly. Whatever it is, she’ll get over it.”
“How can you be so certain?” Dean peeled off a few ones and handed them to Cady. She tried to drop the change in his palm but he pushed her hand toward the tip jar she kept on the counter.
“Shannon Fitzgerald making time with a man? Huge news, right there. When she came back to town to have those babies, she wouldn’t have anything to do with anyone that owned a penis.” A grizzled old man at the counter offered this sage advice.
“Mr. Feeney, that’s TMI.” Cady tsked.
“Don’t know what TMI is, but that’s the dang truth, that is. She even made sure she had a lady doc deliver those triplets.”
“Aren’t you glad you moved to this busybody town full of people who can’t mind their own business?” Cady threw the question out to Dean while her scowl remained focused on Mr. Feeney.
“Actually, yeah I am. Call me crazy, but I’m really liking it here.” Dean grinned, raising his latte in salute.
“Crazy! Just kidding. Listen, you got Shannon to open up to you. That’s so huge. Give her some time and then see if she’ll let you explain. Talk it out.”
“Thanks.”
“Hey, and good luck with the interview today.”
Dean shook his head as he headed back out to his car. How the hell they learned some things and not others, it was just spooky.
• • •
Shaking hands with the principal of Scallop Shores Elementary, Dean accepted the recently vacated position of music teacher. He had filled the man in on his background, finding it remarkably easy to talk about his past. Mr. Hobbs was excited with the energy and the experience that Dean would be bringing to his new role. He’d told him how lucky the children were to have him. Dean assured Mr. Hobbs that he was honored to be able to share his love of music with the students.
They agreed that it would probably be best to keep the boy band thing on the down low, just until everyone got to know him better. Even elementary-age children could get star struck and find it hard to focus on the learning, when what they really wanted to hear was what it was like to be a pop star.
Dean left the front office, started to head for the door, and turned at the last minute, deciding to do a little exploring of his new place of employment. The halls were empty, school still a few weeks away. He tried to imagine what it would be like when everyone returned: the noise, the laughter, the chaos. And he’d be a part of it. He couldn’t wait.
He turned and headed down another vacant hallway. The walls were decorated with bright posters and handmade artwork. Kindergarten or first grade, perhaps? He was just passing a door with a huge construction paper apple tree, the apples blank and waiting for the names of the students who would attend that class, when the door opened, banging into his arm.
“Oh, my goodness! I am so sorry. Are you okay, sir?”
They both knew a moment of stunned silence when Shannon blinked in shocked recognition, withdrawing the hand that had reached out to rub his arm. Of all the people he expected to run into at the elementary school, she was definitely not one of them.
“Shannon, everything all right?” An older woman peered out of the classroom. “Sir? Are you a parent?”
“Hi, no I’m the new music teacher. Dean Patterson. Nice to meet you.” He reached past Shannon to shake the teacher’s hand.
“A pleasure. I heard Mrs. Dixon was retiring. I’m Wanda Peat. I teach first grade. Oh, and this is my new teacher’s aide, Shannon Fitzgerald.”
“We’ve met,” Dean and Shannon mumbled simultaneously.
“Can I walk you to your car?” Dean asked Shannon, leaning down so only she could hear, “I have no idea how to get out of this place.”
“I’ll see you soon, Wanda.” Shannon started off down the hallway and Dean hurried to keep up with her.
“Thanks. I got the crazy idea to do a little exploring and I got a lot lost.” Dean tried to coax a smile from her and failed.
She looked at him sharply. “I parked in the faculty lot. That’s where I’m headed. If you parked somewhere else, then you’re on your own.”
He jogged along beside her. “So teacher’s aide, huh? Why didn’t you tell me you’d applied for a job at the school?”
Dean winced, knowing he’d set himself up good with that one. Shannon gave him a cold stare but declined to take the bait. He let her walk a little ahead of him. He wasn’t used to seeing her dressed up. Where Wanda had looked frumpy and matronly in her plaid skirt and clunky shoes, Shannon looked warm and approachable in a fuzzy short-sleeved sweater and flowery skirt that swished around her ankles as she walked. Her strappy white sandals showed off her tanned feet.
They had just reached the front door and had headed for the sidewalk when Shannon apparently couldn’t contain her curiosity. She whirled around, her skirt showing a nice amount of calf before settling back down again.
“Music teacher? Where did that come from? And why did you have to pick my school? This was for me. I was finally doing something for me.” She swiped an errant tear from her cheek and turned away again, hugging her arms tightly.
Aching to reach out, knowing he’d be rejected, Dean slapped at his empty pockets. Only dorks carried handkerchiefs. But at this moment he’d have loved to be that dork, the gentleman who’s prepared for a woman’s tears. Especially seeing as he was the cause of these tears. Shame and guilt crawled through his gut, leaving a burning trail in their wake.
“I have a background in music. I was looking for something, a way to contribute to the community, to give back. Something to keep me out of trouble.” Nope, no smile that time either. “I didn’t know you were looking into a job here too.” He reached out a tentative hand and touched her shoulder. She didn’t move. “This means more to you. It’s such a big step for you. You know what? You deserve this. I shouldn’t get in the way. I’ll go back and tell them I can’t take the job.”
She turned around, eyeing him suspiciously. “You’d do that for me? Yours is a real job—the school music teacher. I’m just an aide. I’m not a real teacher; I just help out in the classroom.”
“For the immediate future. But I bet you’re also looking into college courses that you can take at home, online. Right? So you may be an aide right now, but someday you’ll be a teacher. And you are going to affect the lives of so many people. You’re the one they’re going to be thanking as they stand up at the podium, giving their valedictorian speech on graduation day.” This time she did laugh, though Dean guessed it was more from embarrassment than anything else.
“Shut up. I’m trying to stay away from you.” She gave him a watery smile.
“You think I’m a bad person.”
“I don’t want to. But that paperwork,” she spat the word out as though it tasted foul, “was pretty damning. You have to admit that.”
“I admit it looked pretty bad. Would it sound cliché if I told you it wasn’t what it seemed?”
“The truth, Dean. All I want is the truth. Is that so hard?”
He opened his mouth to speak. What did he have to lose at this point? Her face was upturned, expectant. His tongue wouldn’t work. The words were frozen, just on the tip of his tongue. Dean stared miserably as Shannon sighed and turned away.
“It’s not mine. The baby. You need to trust that it’s not mine. I wouldn’t fight this unless I knew 100 percent that I wasn’t the father. Please believe me, Shannon.”
“Whatever you say.” Those strappy white sandals slapped against the cement as Shannon stalked off toward her car.