ON THE WAY TO NICK’S apartment above the gym Monday afternoon, Jenn found herself tapping her fingers along with the radio. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining and everything outdoors was green. If only she could figure out the deal with Nick. They’d gone to the grocery store on Saturday, both of them in decent moods, but after the run-in with Mrs. Bumgarner he’d turned quiet.
As if he was embarrassed to have been seen out with a fat chick? She rolled her eyes. They were two grown adults. If he still had the mentality of a high-school freshmen and thought “fat chicks” were bad for his image, well, shame on him. She didn’t think that was it, however. He seemed fine the rest of the time, treating her with respect but…Something was just off.
Jenn stopped at the traffic light and took a steadying breath, gaining perspective from the scenery around her. There was a quaintness to Beauty, the mixture of old-fashioned storefronts and brick streets mixed with modern-day upgrades. After her divorce she’d considered moving back to Cincinnati, but couldn’t bring herself to leave. She could certainly see herself spending the rest of her life here, but whenever she thought about the four empty bedrooms in her fixer-upper she knew she didn’t want to do it alone. Still, until she was happy with herself, how could she expect anyone else to be happy with her?
“That’s what the summer is all about. You.” She nodded to herself, then jumped when the driver behind her honked because the light had turned green and she hadn’t noticed.
Five minutes later Matt opened the door to Nick’s apartment with a glum expression on his face, dragging his feet to the table where Jenn proceeded to unload her three-ring binders, books and papers. Preparing herself for a long afternoon, she explained what they were going to do and got to work.
“Go ahead, Matt. We’ll answer the questions after you read the passage. It’s very short.” Matt stared at the worksheet a long time, but made no move to begin reading aloud. “Matt?”
“I don’t want to.” He shoved the paper away from him.
“Matt—”
“I don’t want to. This is stupid! All my friends are having fun today. They’re at Bryce’s house, swimming.”
Having asked for something to drink soon after they’d begun, Jenn set the glass of milk she’d poured for Matt on the table and took her place beside him. “I’m sorry about that. I know it’s no fun to be here when your friends are out playing together. But we have to do this, you know? The good news is the sooner we have our tutoring session, the sooner you can join your friends.”
“I’m not allowed.”
“Why not?”
Matt clammed up. His lower lip trembled slightly but his eyes were dry. Thank goodness. She didn’t think she could handle his tears when she felt so much like shedding a few of her own. If she even breathed wrong, her body ached. She’d been okay in the car, but climbing the stairs had brought back various pains incurred during their high-intensity walk. No pain, no gain. “Come on, talk to me. What’s going on? Did your dad not want you swimming somewhere without him there? Parents worry like that.”
No answer.
“Okay, then. Well, we’re wasting time, so how about you read that first—”
“I hate reading. Reading is stupid.”
“Why do you think that?”
No answer again. Jenn inhaled and switched tactics. Given Matt’s attitude and test scores, reading was definitely something they needed to work on. But his cooperation was key. “Tell you what. How about we leave the reading for a little later and do some practice sheets in math instead? Sound good?”
Nodding once, he swiped a hand under his nose.
Jenn placed a timed practice sheet in front of Matt and felt her heart lurch as the boy straightened his shoulders as if he faced an entire classroom of bullies. Unlike the reading assignment, the math sheet was full of white space, but still the same reaction. Something was off here, but Jenn wasn’t sure what. Children loved learning—when it wasn’t problematic for them and didn’t cause them stress. Did that mean Matt was having problems comprehending?
Figuring out the trouble wouldn’t be easy, especially not when he shut down and refused to speak, other than to say he hated this or that. She had to help him, but how?
Her mind shouted out a warning, but she knew it was useless. She loved all her students, wanted the best for them and wanted them to succeed. It was impossible for her to spend nine months with a class and not care for every child. But a summer of one-on-one? She’d have to be very, very careful here. Pretending to be Nick’s friend, spending so much time with Matt…She was in dangerous territory and she was intelligent enough to know it.
THAT WASN’T SO BAD, was it?” Nick watched as Jennifer sat in his spare office chair, her face blazing ten shades of purple because he’d made her step on the scales. “This is to have a base line. I don’t want you weighing yourself everyday. This isn’t about numbers.” He picked up a pen and tapped it against the desk calendar, feeling awkward with her embarrassed silence because he didn’t know how to help her get over it.
He didn’t understand women and their obsession with weight. If their clothes fit, if they felt good and were healthy, that was all that should matter. What was it about wanting to achieve some magic number? “I, uh, wanted to thank you for not saying anything to Mrs. Bumgarner on Saturday. I probably should’ve given you a reminder about keeping things quiet, but I didn’t think about it. Anyway, I appreciate you watching out for him. One of Mrs. Bumgarner’s grandsons is in Matt’s class. The kid’s a bully and he’d have a field day if he knew Matt needed help.”
“I would never do anything to deliberately embarrass one of my students.”
Her lashes hung low over her eyes, and her tone was sharp. Indicating he’d put her on the scale to embarrass her? “How’d today go?”
She shrugged, still not making eye contact. “Matt’s not happy about missing out on events with his friends. He told me about the swimming thing. We could’ve postponed the session until tonight.”
“He shouldn’t have brought it up at all. He knew he wasn’t allowed to go regardless of when you two met.” But at least Matt hadn’t told Jennifer why he wasn’t allowed to go, or that he was grounded because of the forgeries. The less Jennifer Rose and everyone else knew about that, the better. Nick shook his head. How had things gotten so complicated?
“We made a little progress this morning, but we’re going to have a long summer ahead of us. Especially if Matt doesn’t open up a little more in order to help me figure out the problem areas.”
Problem areas? Nick shifted uncomfortably. Jenn was criticizing his kid. Had she ever struggled in school—did she know what it was like? You’re on the same side, remember?
He looked up, found her face still hot with color. Dressed in a T-shirt and calf-length yoga pants, Jenn’s arms were soft and smooth-looking, her belly gently rounded and not quite disguised by the loose clothing. But then he took in the luxurious hair, pulled into a ponytail for convenience’s sake, and her smoky charcoal-gray eyes and the tempting texture of her skin. Ms. Jennifer Rose was everything womanly and feminine. While she was overweight for her height and optimum health, she wasn’t obese. Exercise and sensible eating would trim her down. It was her attitude that held her back.
“Yeah, well, about your program. You have to give it time. You’re not trying to train for a triathlon or a body-building competition, just shaping up which means—”
“Like I could even do the other.”
“Anyone could, if they set their mind to it,” he corrected her. “I’ve heard of seventy-year-old guys who’ve done it with heart attacks in their medical history. But for this summer your focus needs to be on lifestyle changes, eating intelligently and exercising every day. If you do that, the weight will come off.”
“Before the end of summer?”
Nick got up and rounded the desk, leaned his hips against the edge of it in front of her. “Don’t put so much pressure on yourself. Studies have shown that stress can cause changes in the body that make it easier for fat to collect around the middle, which is another reason why exercise is so important. Exercise helps us destress and keeps us active. Muscles, bones, body chemistry. It all responds to exercise. We weren’t meant to sit around doing nothing. Jenn, you’re smart and beautiful. All you need is to—”
“Stop.” Her lashes lifted and her gunmetal gray eyes pierced him, dark with hurt and determination. “Just stop. You can yell at me about working out. It’s your job and it’s what I agreed to. But don’t lie to me. That’s not part of our deal and I don’t appreciate it.”
“You think I’m lying to you because I said you’re smart—or beautiful?”
“I’m smart, I know that, but I’m also…big. Bigger than I ought to be.” She made a face. “America is the land of the supermodels, but unless super-sizing my fast-food order counts, I’m not one of them.”
His gaze swept over her body, lingering on all the interesting places where “big” was pure temptation. “There are different kinds of beautiful. Maybe you’re not skinny, but that’s not a bad thing in my opinion. That’s not a bad thing to a lot of guys.”
“I asked you to stop. Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?”
She lifted her hands, a frustrated expression on her face. “Talk to me that way. Compliment me. Todd did that. And my father. They’d both tell me I was pretty and then they’d tell me what was wrong with me. They’d start with the good then point out that I’d eaten more than I should have, or that my pants were getting too tight and…Oh, why am I telling you this?” Her face flamed once more.
“Your father said those things to you, too?” That was something he identified with, being put down by one of the people who should have built him up and told him he could be anything, do anything. Or in Jenn’s case told her she was fine the way she was. The thought of them having that in common stunned him.
“Yeah. And I know what you’re going to say. I know it’s over and it doesn’t matter in the least, but—”
“It’s not over if you haven’t moved beyond it. And the fact you’re bringing it up proves that you haven’t dealt with the past.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. Why did some people need to make themselves feel better at the expense of others? “Jenn, if I say something to you, it’s the truth. And if I have any concerns about your weight, it’s only because it’s not healthy for a body to carry too much of it. Diabetes, heart disease, hypertension. I’m sure you’ve heard all this before.”
She gave him a reluctant nod. “I’m just saying that I’d rather you not say those things to me as if you’re…flirting or something.”
“Because you think I’m lying if I do?”
She shrugged. “Forget I mentioned it, okay?”
Nick fought his frustration. There was more to Jennifer Rose and her weight problem than the obvious. And they had more in common than she might think. He knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of insults. “I won’t say anything to you I don’t mean. Now, can we get on with the session? You’re stalling.”
A person’s ego could only take so much damage. And Jenn’s had obviously taken as much as it could bear. The blushes, the way she couldn’t maintain eye contact. It all became clear. The meat guy, the cashiers at the grocery store on Saturday. Jennifer had kept her head down in that unmistakable don’t-look-at-me, I’m-not-worthy stance of the walking wounded, her body paying the price for her psychic pain because she was too kind to take her misery out on anyone else.
Her chin lifted. “I’m not stalling. Not deliberately, anyway. Look, Nick, all I’m saying is that this summer I want to concentrate on me. The real me that isn’t sugar-coated with false words or lies or side trips away from reality, where I pretend dessert hasn’t been my best friend for half my life. Don’t you get it? If I’m going to do this, I need someone to be as honest with me as I am with myself. Suzanne is a wonderful friend, but she isn’t that person. She’s too afraid of hurting my feelings. Which leaves you and this deal we’ve made. You have to be the bad guy and good guy rolled into one and tell me the things I need to hear—whether or not I want to hear them and whether or not they’re nice.”
She was describing a boyfriend. A spouse. A guy friend?
“But I can’t do this if you’re messing with my head. Pretending to be friends is one thing, but you don’t have to be all—” she waved a hand in the air “—‘you’re beautiful’ in private, you know? All I need and want from you is the truth, nothing else. Ever. Okay?”
Narrowing his gaze, Nick silenced the dark thoughts roaring through his head. Pretending to be friends? If that’s what she wanted, fine. Obviously, all she was doing was pretending they had a friendship going. But why did the statement make him angry?
Because he didn’t measure up to her? Because she’d judged him and he’d come up lacking? Maybe she knew he hadn’t graduated. Who knew, but he wasn’t going to bring it up. That topic wasn’t up for discussion or review. It rankled, though, because she wasn’t giving him a chance to prove to her what kind of man he’d become without any diplomas or fancy titles after his name.
“So, are we clear?”
He nodded, unable to do anything else since Matt’s future was at stake. “No sugar-coating. No lies. Just the truth and nothing but.”
“Good.” She breathed a sigh. “You can really be that honest?”
He waited for her to look at him, anger giving his voice an edge. “You’re overweight. About twenty pounds or so,” he added when he realized she silently dared him to say it.
She immediately looked away. His heart stalled in his chest and he hated himself for making her feel bad. Nick leaned over and nudged her chin toward him.
Jennifer Rose was sweet and strong, but she was also too smart. Vulnerable from her divorce and definitely not his type with her intelligence and education. But he didn’t want to see her hurt and he definitely didn’t want to be the one to hurt her. “For the record, though, if I feel you deserve a compliment I’m going to give you one.”
Jenn blinked at him, then gave him a tenuous, beautiful smile. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I’m sorry I keep waffling. But I really want to do this. Really.”
He smirked and drew back. “Then get off your butt and let’s get started. Write down what I tell you in the boxes.”
MATT, STOP FIDGETING, please.” Seven days after her first lesson on the weight machines, Jenn placed her hand over Matt’s to keep the boy from moving his math paper back and forth and shook her head.
He slid her a look from beneath his long lashes and did as ordered. “Sorry.”
“No problem. Now, number four? What’s sixty-four plus thirteen?”
“Seventy-seven.”
“And number three? Try that one again.”
Just like all the times before, Matt stared at the page, his forehead wrinkling in a frown of concentration and his mouth moving as he read the numbers. Then it began again. Biting his lip, he began to fiddle with the page, moving it back and forth with his right hand.
If she quoted the problems aloud, Matt got the answers after doing the calculation in his head. But if he read them…Could it be something as simple as needing corrective lenses? He could read, knew his numbers and wrote them correctly. But the process was long and agonizing. So where was the problem?
“Matt? Do you see the numbers on the page?” she asked, just to clarify.
He nodded firmly, stopped and tucked his hand under his leg, but after a few seconds of looking at the problem and not coming up with the answer, he began to rock on the seat. Back and forth, then front to back. Finally diagonally side to side.
Developmentally, she knew that girls were more apt to sit still while they studied or read, and that boys often associated movement with learning. They played imaginary drums while they studied, fiddled with their pencils, zipped out a chord on air guitar. Wriggled and squirmed and rocked. But was Matt’s constant fidgeting that or something else? A variation of ADD?
“Seventy-two?”
His answer blew her visual impairment theory to pieces. He could see the numbers and the answer was correct. “Very good.” The rocking stopped and Matt released a ragged sigh. Her heart contracted, and she was saddened by his behavior. She didn’t want to subject Matt to the rigors of testing if there was no need, but why couldn’t he figure out the answers on paper as quickly as he did when she asked him out loud? She was becoming frustrated trying to match his behavior to the learning impairments described in her books. Toss in the tension and strange awareness that existed between her and Nick after their talk in his office and she had a chronic headache.
Nick was polite, always, but he was a quiet brooder, as well. The more time they spent together, the worse it became. Jenn rambled whenever she got nervous and these days she pretty much kept up a steady stream of chatter about her class at the college. Maybe Nick didn’t think she would give Matt her full attention.
Like now?
She blinked her thoughts back to the present. “I, um, think that’s enough math for today. Did you read the story I asked you to read?”
Matt nodded, but the effort was lackluster at best. The tension behind her eyes increased. “Matt?”
He pulled the three pages of a short story and the sheet of questions he was supposed to answer from a SpongeBob folder, his head down as he slid them toward her.
Jenn picked up the stapled sheets, then flipped to the question page. Her heart sank. Matt had tried, she could see that from his many eraser marks, but his responses to the questions about story order, characters and plot were more or less nonexistent, the printed letters a mess. She forced a smile and set the papers on the table. “I can tell you worked hard on these. Did you ask your dad to go over the pages like I suggested?”
“He’s busy.”
“I know he’s busy, but I’m sure he’d take the time to help you. He knows how important this is.”
“I got an F, didn’t I?”
She patted his back and tried to ignore the smell wafting in the window from the Old Coyote Bar and Grille down the street. “We’re not working for grades, Matt. You know that.”
“But I got ’em all wrong, didn’t I?”
“That’s the best thing about stories, they’re all open to interpretation so you’re allowed to have your own opinion. But the question about order? What came first, next and last? We need to work on that.”
“Why do I have to read when Dad doesn’t?”
“Honey, your dad must read all the time. He has to read to run his businesses.”
“But he doesn’t read books. We listen to them in the truck and on the phone and CD player. Why can’t I do that? I don’t like to read.”
Remembering the many audio books she’d seen lying about their apartment, she sighed and reminded herself that Nick really was a busy man. So what were her options? There was a system called Carbo Reading, where the student listened to a story numerous times and followed the book visually. After repeated sessions, the student was required to read from the book without the audio aid. Critics believed the process was simple memorization, and didn’t result in true learning. But right now she’d like to see Matt make some progress. “Tell you what. Let’s take these papers over to the couch and get comfortable while we go over them. Okay?”
Matt shrugged and Jenn searched her mind for something to ease the hurt and pain she saw in him. “Once we get them finished and go over your assignment for tomorrow, maybe we can go for a walk in the park and play some Frisbee or toss a baseball or something.”
He perked up at that. “I’m not very good.”
“I’m not, either, but so long as we have fun what’s it matter?”
“Do I have to read the story again?”
“Yup, but I’ll help you. We’ll read it a couple times and practice your vocabulary words because you know—”
“Practice makes us better,” he grumbled with a long-suffering sigh. “Yes, ma’am.”
HOW’D IT GO with Matt today?” Nick asked the following Thursday.
Jenn inhaled then sighed, lowering the weights onto the base with a soft clunk. She knew better than to feel frustrated after such a short period of time, but she couldn’t help it. Between always feeling on edge around Nick, Matt’s pouting over his summer of schoolwork and her stomach constantly growling, tensions ran high. “Fine.”
“Nice try. What’s going on?”
She opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Instead the room whirled for a second. “It’s, um…fine.”
“I’ll talk to him.”
She blinked away the fog. “What? No. No, I’d rather you not say anything.” She lifted her hand and smoothed it over her hair, hoping Nick didn’t see the way she was trembling.
After their talk in Nick’s office, she’d really dedicated herself to the training program. And she’d done well. She’d watched every rainbow-colored bite that went into her mouth, measured her portion sizes and ignored her stomach. Sugar-free gum had become her constant companion and she was sore all over, but she could already tell a difference in how her pants fastened around her waist. Kind of made it worth the belly grumbling she was putting herself through.
And it only took nine packages of gum to get you here.
“Matt needs to know how important it is that he works toward doing better on that test he has to take this fall.”
She strove for focus and calm, but came up short. Irritability was a constant companion these days. Sugar withdrawal, anyone? “Matt knows perfectly well how serious this is. He doesn’t need any more pressure. What he needs is your help. Nick, I know you’re busy, but I can’t stress how important it is for you to sit down with him for a little while every day and listen to him read. Help him with the words, ask him questions about the story. Parental involvement is key to a child’s success.”
He scowled at the reprimand. “Like I said, it’s been a long couple of weeks. My uncle extended his vacation to make it a second honeymoon for my aunt, and we’re working flat out at the garage.”
“I know, but can’t you spare a few minutes?”
“Get on the spin bike and get going.”
Jenn stifled a groan and did as she was ordered, grumbling beneath her breath because Nick was pushing her so hard. It’s because you gave him a two-month deadline and he’s trying to get you to meet that goal.
But even if she lost a pound to two pounds a week, no way was that dress going to fit. “You’re mad at me because I’m bringing this up, aren’t you?” She put her feet in motion, glaring at him.
He’d paced away but now he returned to stand in front of her. “Do you think it’s easy being a single parent? I’ll do anything for Matt, but I’m running both my businesses and the Old Coyote. I’m barely sleeping as it is, plus I’m training you. Your job is to help him. Remember that part of our deal?”
Having dealt with plenty of parental situations over the years, Jenn recognized a defensive tactic when she saw one. “I know this may sound harsh, but shouldn’t Matt come first?” Nick’s blue eyes churned with anger and disbelief.
“You’re supposed to be tutoring him and doing what I don’t have time to do. Those were the terms of our arrangement.”
“I remember,” she said tightly, losing patience. “But it’s been weeks and you haven’t read with Matt once. Nick, come on, what’s up with that?”