The Player Next Door
“You taught their son?” I ask absently, my mind working to create a visual of Penelope and Shane’s son. If it’s even Shane’s son.
“Yeah. Polson Falls is way better than the elementary school in Dover, so they send him here. I had him last year. He’s a good kid, overall, and one of the popular ones, of course. You’ll like teaching him.”
I choke on my water. “Wait, what do you mean? I’m teaching their son?” Does Shane realize this? I think back to our conversation the other day, about me teaching sixth grade. What did he say again? It was going to be “interesting.” Is that what he meant? Interesting that I’d be teaching Satan’s spawn?
“Thank God he’s an easy kid, too, because Penelope’s one of those parents. You know, the kind who thinks their kid poops rainbows and should get special treatment.” Becca prattles on, seemingly unaware of my mortified reaction. “And then there was all the drama between her and Shane. She tried to get him back for years. I heard things were really ugly between them for a while. She even used Cody as leverage, threatening to take Shane to court for full custody. Stupid way to say, ‘I love you, please take me back,’ right? At one point, I heard Shane refused to be in the same room as her. I don’t blame him. But, she’s finally over him. Thank God, for Cody’s sake, more than anyone.” She tsks. “Poor kid.”
“Are you sure she’s over him?” I ask warily.
“Oh, yeah.” Becca’s head bobs furtively. “She’s pretty serious about Travis. That’s the guy she’s living with now.”
Does Shane know this? Of course, he must. They share a son. Does he care that she’s screwing them both? Or, a small hopeful voice preens in the back of my mind, is it possible that I’ve totally misinterpreted that exchange between them on the porch this morning?
“It’s what I heard from Josie Hilton, anyway, and she always knows the good gossip.” Becca starts listing names of people I might remember—with much younger kids than Cody—but I’m still stuck on this flood of new information. Will I have to sit across from my desk at parent-teacher conferences and act like the three of us don’t have any history? Do Shane and Penelope come together or does Penelope handle the school stuff?
Will she remember me?
Will she still be an enormous bitch?
“Crazy, huh?” Becca asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Yeah. Crazy,” I mumble in agreement. This entire situation is getting more complicated by the day. “I had no idea Shane was going to be my neighbor until the day I moved in.” And now I can’t seem to escape him.
“Bet that was a nice surprise.” Becca’s eyes light up with amusement.
“It was definitely a surprise. I wouldn’t call it a nice one.”
She grimaces. “Has he said anything at all about what a jerk he was to you back then?”
“He apologized.” I shrug, playing it off as no big deal. Because it shouldn’t be. And yet hearing Becca acknowledge his appalling behavior makes me feel oddly better. Maybe I wasn’t entirely invisible to everyone my senior year.
“I think losing his NFL dreams and becoming a dad knocked his ego down a few pegs. He’s actually turned into a nice guy. Helps out a lot around the community. He’s always part of any charity events.”
“Being a nice guy was never Shane’s problem.” He was always nice, especially to the female population. Even when he was crushing their hearts.
“Right.” Her lips twist. “He’s still a huge flirt. It doesn’t look like he’s in a rush to settle down.”
What does that mean? Is he fucking every eligible woman in a hundred-mile radius of Polson Falls? Offering a side of dick with every smoke alarm test? I’m beginning to sound like Justine.
Becca drops her voice conspiratorially. “He’s the big ticket at the charity auction every year. Raises a ton of money.”
“Oh my God.” I shake my head as the pieces click. I can’t believe I hadn’t put them together already. Shane’s a firefighter, and hot as hell. Of course he’d prostitute himself for the children. Does it stop at dinner and a movie with his prize winner, though?
At least my mother can’t afford him.
“They can fall over him all they want. No, thanks. I’m over that.”
“I don’t blame you.” Again, with that sympathetic wince. “But, hey, we all did stupid stuff back then. You wouldn’t believe half the things the kids are doing these days, and they’re not even teenagers yet. There are a couple you need to be ready for.” She waves the turkey sub she brought, as if trying to tempt me.
Pushing aside my wariness at this new connection—or rather reconnection—I settle into the chair across from Becca. It’ll be nice to start my new job with an ally.