September Lessons (A Year in Paradise Book 9) Read online

  “You remembered my name?” Leigh-Ann asked.

  “You’re gonna ask me that and not what I’m doing here?”

  “Looks like you’re working, so why would I ask?”

  She was amusing, at least. “New girl in town happens to get a job at the one place most teens probably apply to for work?”

  “Nobody really keeps up with that around here. Anyway…” Was that a touch of blush on Leigh-Ann’s cheek? Dang. She’s pretty cute. Not really Carrie’s type, who always went for the tragically beautiful femmes instead of the plain girl-next-door. “I’m here to pick up the Hardy order. One large pepperoni.”

  “Got it back here!” Skylar called. A box hit the window cut between the rooms. “Ring her up, would you, Carrie?”

  Leigh-Ann paid with a single ten-dollar bill that was folded in every corner and marked with a hundred of those pens that checked the legitimacy of a bill. Carrie raised an eyebrow, only because it reminded her so much of home. The more a dollar made its way around small, poor communities, the more it looked like it had been doubted to hell and back.

  She had half a mind to ask Leigh-Ann what her parents did, but she already had a pretty good idea. “That’s a penny in change.”

  Leigh-Ann held out an expectant hand. Skylar slipped her the penny, and it didn’t end up in the tip jar – not that Carrie was hurting for a penny.

  “Thanks.” Leigh-Ann checked the toppings before closing the lid on the box again.

  “You got a car?” Carrie asked.

  That caught the other girl off-guard. “Huh? Nah. It’s only a ten-minute walk back home. My mom and dad sent me out to pick up the pizza because they think I need more exercise.” She snorted. “’Cause I sit around all day at school, which is totally different from what they do all day.” She didn’t offer any details beyond that.

  “Bit dark, ain’t it?”

  “I’ll be fine. Know these streets like the back of my hand.”

  “Yeah.” Carrie handed Leigh-Ann her receipt. “I know my hometown like that. Still getting used to this place.”

  Leigh-Ann hesitated. “So, uh…”

  Carrie didn’t say anything, but she also didn’t turn her back on Leigh-Ann.

  “You ever… uh…” Two raised eyebrows from the other side of the counter prompted Leigh-Ann to finish her thoughts. “You ever go up on Wolf’s Hill?”

  “I barely know what that is.”

  “Just the hill outside of town people like to climb when they’re bored. Decent hangout spot at the top. Though sometimes the rangers and the sheriff clear us out of there for troublemaking.”

  “I try to avoid troublemaking, if you can believe it.”

  Was that curiosity bursting behind those hazel eyes? “Cool. Wasn’t gonna ask if you wanted to have some trouble, but since you’re over eighteen, I don’t think they care if we go up there and toke.”

  “You asking me to go smoke marijuana with you?” Wow. Oregon really was a different place. Those were fighting words back where Carrie was from. Fighting as in my mom would whoop my ass if she smelled Mary-Jane on me. Didn’t stop her classmates in Alabama from smoking or vaping, though. Some of them were really dumb about it, too. Then again, this was Oregon, where Carrie’s jaw dropped to see a humble dispensary a quarter mile outside of the city limits.

  “Maybe not like that, but, hey, if you’ve already got friends, then far be it from me to…”

  “I gotta work all weekend, sorry.” That was the truth, at least. “I’m on probation and training, so they’ve got me coming in here as much as possible right now. I need the money, anyway, so… thanks, though.”

  “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 Sunny was a 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 lik
e 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 read 1984 and 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.”

  “When’s that?”

  “Nine.”

  “Oh, yes, I won’t need you that late. You already do so much around here to help me, Leigh-Ann. I greatly appreciate it.”

  Nodding, Leigh-Ann went about her chores as if she never had to be asked to do them. She may not be paid in anything but extra volunteer hours, but she didn’t have anything else better to do. Carrie had turned down her invitation to go up to Wolf’s Hill, after all. Can’t believe I had that stupid idea. Can’t believe I invited her. Leigh-Ann wasn’t the type to go to the summit with her friends and smoke a joint or indulge in underage drinking – because, aside from making out with one’s boyfriend or girlfriend, that’s what you did at the top of Wolf’s Hill. Sometimes, you got all the way up there and realized you weren’t alone. Tourists who loved hiking usually made the easy trek – and usually brought their kids. Kinda hard to justify getting toasted or making out like idiots when kids watched on. Or, at least, that wasn’t Leigh-Ann’s thing.

  Please, like I have anyone to do those things with… Leigh-Ann wasn’t above the occasional hit or drink, but she never had a date to go up there with, anyway. Her previous boyfriend a year and a half ago lasted a whole two weeks, and they had shared one or two kisses before he broke up with her for some out-of-towner. While the denizens of Clark High School were more accepting of queer kids than some of the other neighboring school districts, it didn’t mean a majority of the students were LGBT. Too bad. Leigh-Ann could have had her pick of boyfriends in small town Oregon if that were the case. Instead, girls like Christina swept in on any guy who struck her fancy. So did Amanda. And Regina. And Chrystal with a CH. By the time the popular girls made it through the guys they liked, most of the boys moved on to girls from other towns or online hookups they scored when they figured their way around the filters.

  Leigh-Ann was in no hurry for a relationship, though. She was old enough now that none of her male classmates appealed to her. She remembered when Peter pissed his shorts in fourth grade and when Wendall got hit in the face with a dodgeball and cried like a baby – what was that, five years ago? Seventh grade? Ha! Still funny after all that time!

  Besides, Leigh-Ann didn’t lack for socializing. She was an introverted only child who preferred to sit in her room and listen to music, surf the internet, or read a book. She got enough socializing at school and here at Waterlily House. Sure, having a friend – or boyfriend – would be great, but she only really needed one.

  Perhaps she had been a bit excited by Carrie’s friendly interest in her. Then again, a girl as cool as her didn’t have to worry about making friends. She’ll probably be BFFs with half the class by the end of the month. Leigh-Ann was lucky she got a few conversations before that happened, because she wouldn’t get more come October.

  Honestly, if we spent too much time together, people might think I’m gay. Carrie was certainly out about it, and while Leigh-Ann didn’t fear bullying in a town like Paradise Valley, she didn’t want to send the guys the wrong message. Clark High wasn’t exactly the hub of bi visibility, if only because most of the students went with what they witnessed for themselves. The moment you dated a gay, you were straight. As soon as you “changed teams” and went out with a girl, you were gay. Things were so black and white that the few girls (and one guy) who labelled themselves bi or pansexual fought an uphill battle getting everyone to believe them. Ms. Tichenor once said that real life was a lot like that, too. As much as Leigh-Ann liked her English teacher, she was glad Ms. Tichenor wasn’t at Waterlily House that day.

  Someone else arrived, though.

  “Hi, Leigh-Ann!” Dr. Brandelyn Meyer popped out of her sedan. Leigh-Ann was about to head back inside after watering the plants, but she couldn’t very well ignore the town doctor. Especially since she was, ah, Sunny’s wife of only two months. “Is Sunny inside?”

  “Yeah.” Seeing that woman in her fancy skirt and blouse – let alone the fifty-dollar haircut – made Leigh-Ann try that again. “Yes. She was in the kitchen last I saw her.”

  She hoped that was the last she had to speak with Dr. Meyer, quite possibly the most intimidating woman in town. It wasn’t only her level of east coast sophistication, though – although that Brooklyn accent that occasionally slipped into conversation was likely to make Leigh-Ann snort in delightful amusement. Oh, no, Dr. Meyer had to go and be Leigh-Ann’s doctor for the past few years. This was the woman who had stuck her hand up Leigh-Ann’s pubescent chest to listen to her heartbeat and asked her embarrassing questions about her period. Never mind that time Leigh-Ann had the stomach flu and threw up right on Dr. Meyer’s floor! God help Leigh-Ann when she remembered being a fourteen-year-old in dire need of a tetanus shot. I literally cried. Like I was Wendall hit in the face by a dodgeball. So much crying. At fourteen. Fourteen!

  “You started school this week, yeah?”

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nbsp; Great! Another one!

  “Yes,” Leigh-Ann said, already so tired of this question after hearing it three times that day. “Senior year. Trying to get by for now.”

  She half-expected a lecture about planning for college or going all out for the student body, like soooo many people gave her crap for, as if she didn’t know how important those things were. Leigh-Ann’s aspirations were about as grand as going to the local community college and getting a certificate in something that would pay decently for at least a few years. She was better off getting married, really. Not that she was in a hurry to do that. Sunny didn’t get married until thirty-seven, and Ms. Tichenor hasn’t married her girlfriend of, like, ten years. Nobody rushed through relationships in Paradise Valley. Only the teenagers at school.

  “Yes, you’re eighteen. You really should take it easy, unless you’re thinking of being a doctor like me. I wish I could have taken it easy back then, but I was trying to get into the best undergrad… never mind. You don’t care about this.” Dr. Meyer reached back into her car and pulled out a small bouquet of roses. “Excuse me. Off to find my wife. Can you believe it! Calling her my wife!”

  That girlish giggle confused Leigh-Ann for a few moments. Sometimes, adults acted more like kids than the kids did.

  Leigh-Ann eventually followed her inside, where she was treated to a sight that made most kids nauseas.

  “I’m so sorry I asked so much of your earlier.” That was Dr. Meyer’s baby voice, her finger nicking the tip of her wife’s chin. Sunny, who usually kept a kempt composure when in the presence of others, blushed so red that she had to look away from the woman making such a fuss over her. “I really want to spend more time with you. I know, I know, the busy season will be over soon, but I want to be with you now. Why else are we bothering with marriage?”

  “That’s why you hauled ass over here when I gave you the ultimatum, huh?” Sunny asked with a grin.

  “You know how to get me going, babe. Picked these up for you so you’d know how much I was thinking of you.” Dr. Meyer plucked a red rose from the bouquet and held it up to her wife’s cheek. “The same shade! Go figure.”