Whispers & Broken Promises (EBOOK)

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Chapter One

“I’m a good person.” Am I though?

Jack didn’t think so, and he was one of the people I thought knew me best. I finger the modest gold hoop earring in my ear while waiting for the stoplight to change to green.

“Getting a little revenge wouldn’t make you a bad person.” The sarcasm laden tone is classic Jen. If they handed out sarcasm awards, my sister would be the champion.

I picture Jen rolling her eyes while she presses her phone between her shoulder and cheek. From the background noise coming through the phone, she’s probably in her bathroom getting ready for work. The running water and distinct echo of a small room are dead giveaways.

“Prank calling him at his new job or trolling him on social media is not my style.” I may have fantasized about him getting fired or dumped a few dozen times over the past few weeks, but I didn’t want to be instrumental in either of those things happening. No, I wanted them to happen because of his own actions. And suddenly, of course, he would realize I was the best thing to ever happen to him and he would beg me to accept him back.

I would listen to all his groveling and then send him on his way. I wouldn’t take him back.

Probably.

Okay, if he groveled on his knees and apologized for every nasty thing he said about me and took them all back…I might consider it.

Maybe.

“You’re too nice, Tina. Where did I go wrong? Sometimes it’s like we don’t even share the same DNA.”

I wince and flick on my turn signal. Someone else finds me lacking and this time it’s my own sister. “We have the same blonde hair and green eyes. Well, we do when you don’t die your hair. What color is it this week?”

“Purple.” Her sigh lasts several seconds. “Look, you need to stop pining over Jack. You’re better off without him. I never liked him anyway.”

“Are there any men you like? Besides Dad and Carter?”

“Men have their uses. Short term. Dad and Carter are the only ones I can tolerate on a regular basis.”

“You might want to consider why our father and brother are the only men you tolerate.”

“Don’t try and change the subject on me. We’re talking about you this morning.”

The road to the school comes into view. Granite Cove Elementary shimmers in gold lettering on the hunter green wooden oval. They must have repainted the sign over the summer. I’ve been prepping my classroom for the start of the school year for almost a month, but this is the first time I noticed. Granted, I’ve been a tad preoccupied lamenting over the breakup.

My chest tightens and I get that combination of nerves and anticipation fluttering through my system. I love my work. Helping all those bright little minds discover something new—what’s not to love?

Jack accused me of having no ambition—working and living in the same town I grew up in. Is he right? Am I just following along the easy path?

After graduating college, I never hesitated when the school offered me the position in Granite Cove. It didn’t even occur to me to consider other towns in New Hampshire. I certainly didn’t think about teaching in another state.

The sprawling brick building looms ahead. I’ve always gotten warm feelings looking at the familiar building before. Each addition provokes a fond memory from when I attended school here or a story from when my parents went here. We planted the various trees peppering the parking lot or grounds on past Arbor Days. Flowers fill the garden beds from past science experiments teaching the kids about plant life cycles. Have I trapped myself in a pretty prison based on happy memories?

“Did you lose your signal?”

I wince. How could I forget Jen is on the phone? “I’m in the school parking lot. I have to go. Talk later?”

“Okay, have a great first day. Forget about Jack. You know what you need? You need a rebound guy.”

I drive around the side of the building to the teacher’s lot and park. “A rebound guy?”

“Yeah, the dude you date once or twice after a breakup. He’s not boyfriend material. He’s the scorching hot make you drool a little bit guy who reminds you you’re a sexy passionate woman. You need to find one of those.”

“Right, I’ll keep that in mind while I’m navigating the first day of school. I’m sure they’ll be a ton of hot guys milling around the elementary school.”

“You never know. One of your first graders might have a sexy dad, or there might be a new, male, teacher at the school. If you’d agree to go club hopping with me and my friends one night, I’m sure I could find one for you. How about Friday?”

I rest my forehead on the top of my steering wheel. Club hopping has never been my idea of a fun time. Should I give it a try? If nothing else, it will make Jen stop asking. I could take selfies of me and other guys and post them. How will Jack react if he sees the pictures on social media? Will he be jealous?

“Maybe. The first week of school is always crazy. I’ll let you know later in the week.”

“Fine, it’s better than a no. Good luck. Love you.”

“Love you.” I hit the disconnect button on my steering wheel.

The buses will arrive soon. I need to get to my classroom and unload all my stuff and get back outside and greet my new students. I grab my giant woven tote bag, my purse, and the shopping bag full of rewards for the student treasure box which I forgot to buy last week while setting up my classroom.

Why did I linger over breakfast this morning? Oh yeah, it’s the most important meal of the day and I wanted to treat myself to pancakes. Of course, the real time suck might have been checking my social media. And then, of course, I had to peek at Jack’s pages only to discover he’s having a blast out in California without me and making tons of new friends. At least according to his selfies, he is. Most of those new friends are women.
I might have liked to move across the country and start fresh. But he didn’t ask me to go along—never even told me he applied for the position.

Hoisting my purse over my shoulder, I bump the car door closed with my hip. The tote and bag knock against my car and my purse strap slips off my shoulder.
I speed walk across the parking lot to the side entrance while trying to keep my purse from dragging on the ground by lifting my bags high enough in the air. My arms wobble under the strain. The glass doors are closing ahead of me behind another teacher. If I don’t catch them, I’ll have to put everything down and root around for my badge—which I should have remembered to take out ahead of time.

“Hold the door, please!”

A manicured hand with hot pink nails and gold rings holds open the door. I juggle my bags and plaster a smile on my face for my savior.

“Thanks so much!”

A tall lithe form steps into the open doorway. Oh crud! Not Lisette. Why couldn’t it be anyone else but her?
She examines me from head to toe with no facial expression whatsoever. She doesn’t smile or frown, not even a twitch from her pink lips. She’s like a robot—a gorgeous, emotionless, perfect one who constantly makes me feel like an inept, frumpy, little, munchkin beside her. She personifies a Lisette, not a Lisa—which one of the other teachers joked her real name probably was. Maybe if my parents named me something more exotic than Tina, I wouldn’t be boring old me.

“Lose your badge again?”

“No, it’s in my bag.” I only lost it a couple of times last year. It’s not as if I lost it every month.

She looks at my bags and then at my dress. Her face doesn’t move, but the disdain oozes out of her. I use my shoulder to push open the door and sidle in as she steps back.

“Your buttons don’t line up.”

I glance down. Dang it! My floral dress is scrunched over my chest because I skipped a buttonhole.

“Thanks.” I give her a tight smile. She could have let me continue on without mentioning it, so maybe she’s not so terrible after all.

“You know, there are affordable stylists. They’re not only for the wealthy. I could ask mine if she knows one who could help someone like you.”

And there’s the dig.

She’s wearing a form fitting black skirt and a white blouse. There’s an assortment of gold necklaces filling her decolletage. Her long brown hair is straight and glossy. She’s probably never had a bad hair day in her life.

“Gee thanks Lisette, but clothes have never been high in my priorities.”

“Perhaps they should be.” She glances over her shoulder. “The buses are arriving. You should set your alarm earlier, so you’re not always late.” She turns away and saunters down the hallway towards the front doors.

I jog in the opposite direction towards my classroom with my bags banging against my legs. I’m not always late.

Fine, I am, but I’m working on it.

Monica steps out of the adjoining hallway linking the higher grades with the preschool, kindergarten, and first-grade classrooms. “Hey, no running in the hall, Miss Cooper.” She chuckles. “Need help?”

“No, got it, thanks.” I halt in front of my door. On second thought…I frown and glance back over my shoulder.

“Here.” Monica reaches past me and opens the door.

“You’re a lifesaver, thanks.” I dump all my bags in my chair behind my desk and stride back to the door.

Monica frowns and points to my dress. “I think…”

“Oh right, I forgot.” I fix my buttons as we traipse down the hallway. Hopefully, I won’t flash anyone in the process.

Her gray blouse and black pants are classy and professional. The pearl earrings and necklace are a nice touch too. Is Lisette right? Should I put more effort into my appearance?

“You want to grab a coffee after school today and celebrate making it through the first day of school unscathed?”

I chuckle and smile. “Can’t today. I promised my mom I would help her plant the slew of shrubs she came home with over the weekend. There was a sale and my mom cannot pass up a sale. Raincheck?”

Monica laughs. “Absolutely.”

The morning shuffle of getting the students to the right rooms goes off without too many mishaps. My kids hang up their shiny new backpacks on the hooks with their names over them and find their desks.

Sniffles and hiccups of distress come from the open door. A man carrying a little girl wearing a pink dress and white leggings stands there. A small pink backpack is looped over his shoulder. Her blonde head is buried in his neck, but the familiar nametags with the rainbow in the corner and my name and room number tells me she’s in the right place. She must be the missing Hope Swanson from the quick attendance check I skimmed over a few minutes ago. A new student, not only to my first-grade class, but to Granite Cove. They added her to my class list last month.

I put a wide smile on my face and walk over to the door.
“Hi there. You must be Hope. I’m Miss Cooper and I’m so excited you’re in my class this year.”

Two sets of identical milk chocolate brown eyes with specs of gold stare at me. One behind a pair of silver wire-rimmed glasses and the other peeks at me from, I’m guessing, her father’s shoulder. She sniffles.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Ron Swanson. Hope, say hello to your teacher.” He squats and tries to put her down, but she’s having none of it and keeps her arms and legs wrapped around him.

His warm voice reminds me of thick, dark, molasses and a flutter stirs in my belly.

I inhale a shaky breath and bend over so I’m eye level with Hope. She needs to be my focus, not her handsome father—which I have no business noticing how handsome he is.

“I know it can be a little scary the first day in a new school, but I promise I’m pretty nice and not scary at all. Do you like cats?”

Hope peeks at me with one eye and nods once.

“It just so happens that our class mascot is my cat, Snickers. Now, I obviously can’t bring my actual cat to school every day, but I have a stuffed cat that looks just like him. See that brown tabby cat on my desk?”

Another careful nod.

“Each day, the student with the most stars for good behavior gets to have Snickers sit on their desk the next day. Since this is the first day of school, no one has earned any stars yet. Would you like to be the very first one to have Snickers on their desk this year?”

She lifts her head, bites her lip, and nods.

“Great! Why don’t you say goodbye to your dad?” I glance at the man and lift my eyebrow in question. He nods. “I’ll show you where to hang up your backpack, and then we’ll get Snickers and find your desk.”

I hold out my hand to her with a smile. She places her small hand in mine and glances around the classroom for the first time.

She looks up at her dad and squeezes my hand tight.

He kisses her on top of her head and hands her the backpack. “You’ll have a wonderful time and I’ll be here to pick you up at the end of the day, okay?”

She nods and whispers, “promise?”

“I promise.”

“Okay.”

“Let’s go find your name plate over your hook. Do you think you can spot your name before I can?”

I tug her hand towards the hooks lined up to the right of the door.

She points to her name and shuffles over.

“You found it fast. Excellent job. Hang up your backpack.”

There’s a deep sigh behind me. I glance over my shoulder at the door while Hope hangs up her backpack.

Her father nods and mouths the word thank you before turning and leaving.

That little flutter dances around inside me again.

Nope, one of my students’ dads is definitely not a man I should notice and certainly not a candidate for the rebound guy Jen advocated for.