Painted Memories Read online

  I touched my hands to my hair, as if to make sure it was still there. Grinning, I said, “Yeah, it’s still there, but I don’t know for how long. School’s only been in session for a month, and some days, I feel like I’m going to pull it all out.”

  “I know what you mean,” she said, “I’ve been teaching high school kids for three years now. Some days, I’m surprised I haven’t been committed to a mental institution yet.”

  “Really? That bad? Where do you teach? I don’t know many of the teachers here yet. Most are older. They’re friendly, but busy. Sometimes they seem a little too busy to bother talking to me.”

  She nodded her head. “I know how the new teacher thing is. Most teachers have known each other for a long time. There’s a bonding that forms throughout the year. It may take a little time, but you’ll get pulled into the pack. I teach over at Maplewood High. You?”

  “Maplewood Elementary.” I was shocked to meet someone so similar to myself. And out of all the places, at the gym.

  “That’s very cool. We’ll have to plan on doing this more often. I’ve got a few years’ experience under my belt. I can tell you all sorts of horror stories.”

  Something told me I didn’t want to know. I always wanted to be a teacher for as long as I could remember. It was a game I used to play with my brother when I was kid. I was the teacher handing out all the homework, and grading papers. As I got older, and entered high school, I started volunteering at the elementary school, tutoring the kids, and soon realized it was all I wanted to do. I loved being with them, helping them achieve the smallest of tasks. It probably wasn’t in my best interest to hear her stories.

  “Oh, I don’t know if that is such a good idea, seeing how it’s my first year. I may need to skip those stories and let you fill me on the light-hearted ones.”

  “Sure, I’ve got a bunch of those too. It’s the most rewarding job I’ve ever had, but you will have those days that make you question why the crap you’ve chosen teaching as a career.” The woman looked at her watch and turned the machine off, then stood still on top of the treadmill. “First year, huh?”

  “Yep. I got lucky with the position though. They needed someone last minute to fill in for about six months. The teacher whose spot I took had some kind of medical emergency. I’m not sure what I’ll do when she’s ready to come back. Hopefully, they’ll keep me on, or maybe I can find another opening somewhere else. If not, I’ll have to move back to Canyon Falls with my parents.”

  “At least you’ve got somewhere to go.”

  “Yeah.” And she was right; I did have somewhere to go. Whether I would go was the question. Then again, being homeless wasn’t out of the question.

  She hopped off the treadmill. “Well, I better get going. I’ve still got papers to grade before my dinner date.”

  “Ohh, are you giving up on Mr. Scrumptious over there?”

  She giggled. “Ha! Someone like that wouldn’t go for something like this,” she said pointing at herself. “Which is why I’ll be here every day from now on. You’d probably be more his type than I would anyway,” she winked. “Besides, I’m sure there are about ten other guys that I can drool over while I do my time on the treadmill.”

  I laughed, “Don’t kid yourself, you look just fine”. She wasn’t toothpick-thin, but healthy looking with a bit of meat on her bones. I figured it was her short height that made her look a bit bigger than she really was. “Name’s Lilly,” I said holding my hand out to her, “maybe we’ll catch each other in here again. Then we can drool together.”

  She laughed and shook my hand. “I’m Andrea. And absolutely! I’ll be here tomorrow, about four-thirty, after class. If you’re here, find me. It’s always nice to kill time. Makes working out not so bad.”

  With that, she walked away. If felt nice to finally talk to someone my own age. Not that the older women I worked with were hard to talk to, but there’s something about having someone you can relate to. Andrea was right about one thing, time did pass faster when you didn’t realize the work you were putting your body though. I might have only been walking, but when you don’t do it every day, you still get tired. I hopped off the treadmill and decided to change and shower when I got home, instead of using the gym’s facilities.

  Walking to my car, I breathed in the hot air and it made me thankful I decided to come to the gym instead of enduring the heat to exercise at the apartment track. Passing several rows of cars, I finally found my own. “Damn it!” I said out loud. I kicked the flat tire on my run-down Toyota Corolla. The last time it happened, I was getting ready to move here. Thankfully, my parents owned the best of everything and knew everyone in town, so I didn’t have to worry about how or when I’d get my car fixed. Car parts were expensive, and I couldn’t afford them on my own, especially if I needed major work done. Mom wanted to buy me a new car before I left home, but I refused. Not that my refusal did much good. I compromised by letting her buy the parts instead.

  Theoretically, I’d seen it done several times, but watching someone change a tire didn’t give me any confidence. After pulling the jack parts out of my trunk, I put the wrench on the lug nut and twisted the wrench to crack the seal, but it wouldn’t budge. I tried standing up and pressing down, in hopes of getting a better angle on it, but nothing. Not even pushing it down with my foot did any good.

  “Excuse me, ma’am?”

  I nearly fell over backward hearing someone’s voice behind me.

  “Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. You need to use the jack first, or all that work you’re doing will be for nothing”

  I looked up. Holy freaking crap. It was the guy I was staring at while on the treadmill. Except now, he had changed from his tee shirt and running shorts into a pressed, collared shirt and dark navy blue jeans. His hair was wet and spiked on the top of his head. I found myself speechless as I mentally appraised his appearance. I’d have to tell Andrea if I saw her tomorrow. He looked like one of those Calvin Klein underwear models, except he had all his clothes on.

  “You need some help?”

  His question brought me out of my trance and I stumbled over my words. “Oh… no… no, thank you. I’d hate for you to get dirty on my account. I’ll figure it out. Thank you for asking.” I took a step back and stared at the jack for a minute, trying to figure out how the damn thing worked. Apparently, they all didn’t look the same, because this one looked nothing like I remembered. There was the jack itself, and then a metal rod which looked like it went… where? I had no idea.

  “Let me see that,” he said with a small laugh.

  Who was I kidding? Even he could tell I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. I handed it to him and stepped aside. “You really don’t have to do this, but I really appreciate it.”

  He peered up at me and smiled, “Are you kidding? I can’t walk away, knowing you need help. What kind of guy would that make me?”

  “Well, I haven’t met too many kind-hearted men here.” Not until very recently.

  Within a few minutes, he had the flat tire off and the spare mounted. He started twisting the lug nuts back on the wheel, and I was surprised at how fast he was. With arms like that, he could probably lift the whole damn car off the ground.

  “So,” he said, standing up, “do you always stick to the treadmill when you work out?”

  He grinned at me, probably because my mouth was hanging open, shocked that he noticed me at all. God. I hoped he didn’t see me almost fall off the treadmill. And why was someone like him looking at me in the first place?

  “Well, exercising isn’t high on my list of things of favorite things to do. I’m trying to add it to the list… the bottom of the list. Usually, I stick with walking outside or something, but considering my bad experiences with that, I thought I’d give the gym a try.” I looked down at the flat, dilapidated tire lying on the ground. “It seems like I have bad luck wherever I go.”

  “Oh I don’t know about that… you’re talking to me. That’s never bad.�
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  I was surprised at his cocky comment, but couldn’t help my grin when he smiled at me. His teeth were bright white, a perfect smile with matching dimples on both sides of his cheeks. Yeah, sure, I could overlook that last comment. Dusting his hands off, he placed the jack and tire iron back in the trunk of my car.

  “I’d get a new tire put on as soon as you can. It’s never good to ride too long on the spare.”

  “Definitely. Well, thanks so much for your help. You saved me a lot of money not having to call a tow truck. I appreciate it.” I held out my hand to shake his. “I’m Lilly, by the way.”

  He took my hand, squeezing it lightly. “It was no problem. I’m glad I was able to help. And my name is Tyler. I’m a personal trainer here, so I’m sure we’ll run into each other again… if I’m lucky.”

  I could feel my cheeks heating up. Was he flirting with me? “I’ll definitely be back. It’s a very appealing gym.”

  “Yes, it is,” he said, walking backwards as he talked. “One thing though… you may want to avoid the treadmill, especially if you’re trying to work on them. They seem a little too dangerous for you.” He winked and turned away.

  I remained cemented to the pavement. Great. Now another guy thinks I’m an idiot. This week just keeps getting better and better.

  Chapter 2

  If I heard my name called one more time, I would crawl up under my desk and pretend that I ceased to exist. Everyone had a question or a complaint today and I wasn’t in the mood for any of it. Thankfully, the last hour of class was Art, so I could get one hour of peace and quiet to catch up on paper-grading. Just one less thing to worry about later.

  When I came in this morning, I checked my mailbox at the front office and discovered a note from Principal LaNore. A new art teacher was starting today! It was a relief to know I didn’t have to rack my brain for another art activity this week. Artsy-craftsy I wasn’t, and quickly running out of ideas. Now, if the music teacher left, that was one class I would love to teach. My parents spent nearly a fortune on weekly piano lessons for me while growing up. I wouldn’t call myself the next Mozart, but I could practically play anything. Who was I kidding? I was rusty and not sure I could even bring myself to sit at a piano anymore. There were too many haunting memories to even attempt it, no matter how much I missed playing.

  I stood up and called the class to attention. “All right, everyone, grab your belongings. After Art, it will be time to go home and you will not be returning to class. Line up at the door please.”

  Referring to my paper again, I confirmed the art class would still be held in its usual place and the new teacher’s name was Mr. McGregor. He was probably just another old guy, already ten years past retirement. I didn’t have anything against the elderly, many of whom were at Maplewood Elementary, although they didn’t seem too keen on seeing younger teachers take their jobs, or so one lady told me on my first day. Frankly, I would think that after about twenty or thirty years of teaching, anyone would look forward to retirement.

  In single file, I led the kids down the hall. I could hear the whispered giggles and shuffling of feet, along with the clicking of my heels. Three halls over, on the other side of the school, I ushered the kids through the door and entered the room once I had everyone inside. Glancing at the teacher’s desk, Mr. McGregor, or so I assumed, was leaning over it with his back to me. It certainly wasn’t the backside of a seventy-year-old man, not in those jeans. They were loose fitting down the legs, but snug in all the right places. It was a nice view from my vantage point… very nice. I knew I hadn’t seen this guy before. There weren’t any young guys that worked here. Most were women, and the men were old enough to be my father or grandfather. Please don’t be old, please don’t be old, I thought as I waited for him to turn around. If I found out I was checking out an old guy’s butt, I might throw up.

  “Ms. Morgan, Ms. Morgan,” I heard beside me. I gave Mathew the sweetest smile I could muster while he tapped me on my arm.

  “Yes, Mathew? What is it?”

  “Will we get to paint this time? You promised we could for weeks now.”

  He was right. I was deliberately putting it off. Since the art teacher left unexpectedly not long after school started, everyone in the faculty had to take turns and improvise when it came to the art activity of the week. I always discouraged painting. I wasn’t sure I could handle twenty-eight kids, with their fingers covered in paint—despite being told to use brushes, by myself. It might become my breaking point. Not to mention something that would have made my father say, “I told you so.” So, I avoided it altogether.

  “Well, I don’t know what Mr. McGregor has planned for you today—”

  “Of course, we’re painting!”

  I heard his enthusiastic voice behind me and I smiled at Mathew. “See? You get to paint! Now you can finally get to paint your mom a pretty picture.” I stood and smiled while turning towards Mr. McGregor. “They’ve been trying to convin—”

  My hand flew to my mouth to stifle a gasp. I couldn’t say a single word, and all he could do was stare at me. His eyes roamed my face and body before returning to my eyes again. A slow grin illuminated his face and seeing a dimple in each of his cheeks fascinated me.

  “So,” he said. “This is how you look dry.” Drew leaned in closer as he whispered in my ear. “And without a soaking, wet shirt on.”

  My hand covered my chest as if he could see the bra underneath my yellow dress. Something told me when I woke up this morning, with my legs still sore from using the treadmill, I should have called in sick. Damn it! I should start listening to my gut more often. I didn’t have to look in the mirror to know my pale face was bright red with embarrassment. I could feel the heat burning through my cheeks. Not only did I have to see this guy at least once every week now, but his first impression of me was the crazy woman he pulled from the pond… Great, freaking great!

  “I have to go… grade some papers. This is their last class and they can take the bus or get in the car line from here.” I said it all so fast, I wasn’t sure he understood anything. I backed away from him a few steps as his bright green eyes watched me. His brows were slightly arched and I could have sworn he was trying very hard to suppress a laugh. But I didn’t wait for his laugh to escape; I turned on my heels and hightailed it out of there.

  “It was nice to see you again, Lilly,” he said as I hurried down the hall. In that moment, two things occurred to me. One: he remembered my name. Two: his front side looked just as good as his backside.

  I walked through the sliding glass door of Body Fit gym, and was shocked to see the emptiness of the place at only two-thirty in the afternoon. Soon, lots of people would start streaming in after their workdays came to a close, filling the place with heavy breathing and sweat-glistened bodies. It didn’t sound very appealing when I thought about it that way, so I took off toward the treadmill area, hoping to get my run in before it got too busy. I scanned the floor trying to see, if by chance, Andrea was already here. But it was too early and I knew she was still teaching. Since I had the good fortune to teach elementary school, and we now had a newly named art teacher, I could look forward to free time at least once a week. It would also allow me the opportunity to avoid Mr. McGregor as much as possible. I’d be constantly reminding him of my embarrassing moments. Falling face first in the pond was probably the worst possible scenario, but I didn’t want to take any more chances than necessary.

  Since Andrea was nowhere in sight, I decided to try out a few weight machines. My floundering like a fish out of water would have a limited audience, since only a few people were using the equipment. I kept it simple. First, I casually watched each person per machine and studied how to make it work; then I took their places when they left. I wanted to avoid looking like a complete idiot should anyone be watching me from somewhere on the floor.

  After about thirty minutes of doing various leg and arm curls, I decided to try one last machine before I hit the treadmill for some cardio.
Feeling like a pro, I decided to go for a machine that caught my eye earlier, but I still hadn’t seen anyone use it. I sat down on the seat and looked up at the long, black metal bar above me. A soft grip padded each end of the bar, indicating where to place my hands. A cable stretched from the bar, straight up a pole, and back behind me, like an upside-down L. Logic told me to pull down on the bar so the pulleys working the cable would lift the weights up behind me, but when I pulled down, nothing happened. The bar didn’t give an inch and I knew there was something missing. I stood up and studied the machine, trying to figure out what I was doing wrong, and feeling dumber than a brick the longer it took. I pulled at this and that before sitting down and trying again… still nothing moved. Determinedly, I went to the back of the machine and looked one more time before giving up altogether. “Oh, forget it,” I huffed out loud, throwing my hands to my sides. When I turned to walk away, my body slammed against something hard. I peered up to find Tyler smiling down at me. I jerked my body away from his chest and stumbled backwards. He grabbed my upper arms and tried to balance me.

  “Oh sorry, I… I didn’t know you were standing there.” I said, embarrassed.

  “My fault,” he said, letting go of my arms. “I should have spoken up. Do you need help?” he asked, glancing from me to the machine.

  I eyed the machine, and gave it a dirty look. “No, that’s okay, I’ve had enough of weight machines today. Besides, I’ve spent too long trying to figure this one out.”

  “Okay. Well, let me show you how to use it for next time. It is my job you know,” he said with a grin.

  He showed me how to change the weight, my first problem, and blamed it on the last person to use it, who didn’t reset it. I was trying to pull one hundred and fifty pounds with my arms. Tyler stood beside me and placed his hand on my lower back. I was almost certain that employees touching customers, like he was touching me, had to be against the rules.