Twice the Chance

“Is that where Brooke and Robbie will go to high school?” She couldn’t seem to stop digging for more information about them.

“Terry—that’s my sister—sends them to private school. They don’t live in my district, anyway. My brother-in-law inherited a place south of Broad.” He named the most prestigious part of peninsular Charleston, an area so rich in history and beauty that it resembled a living museum.

“Is that where you live, too?” Jazz asked.

“My town house is near Magnolia Plantation,” he said, referring to a popular tourist attraction nestled along the western banks of the Ashley River. “I bought it because it backs up to green space.”

Jazz also lived west of the river but on the less desirable side of Ashley Greens Park, where multi-family housing and strip shopping centers were more common than trendy neighborhoods. Her apartment abutted another apartment.

“Any more questions?” he asked.

Are your niece and nephew my children?

“No,” she said.

“You sure? I want you to feel comfortable when you come over,” he said. “I swear you can trust me.”

She didn’t trust anyone.

“Then give me the run of the kitchen and treat me like an employee.” She hadn’t consciously decided to accept the job until that second.

He saluted her. “Aye aye, captain.”

She felt a grin teasing the corners of her mouth. “How do I get in touch with you?”

“Give me your cell number and I’ll call you,” he said.

“But you don’t have your phone with you, do you?”

“Believe me, I’ll remember the number.” His inflection was jaunty enough that she wouldn’t have been surprised had he winked.

She recited her phone number, and he repeated it just as they reached the offshoot of the path that led to her apartment. She pointed. “Home is that way.”

“I’ll call you,” he said before he resumed his run.

She headed home, sure she was making a mistake but equally certain she’d follow through with the job.

“CAN YOU BELIEVE Matt’s having a goodbye party for Carter? What, if anything, is he thinking?”

Matt paused at the entrance to the teachers’ lounge at Faircrest High School a few days later. The door was ajar, something that volleyball coach and psychology teacher Donna Lee must not have realized, considering the volume of her voice.

Donna sat at the only occupied table, her back to the door. She was flanked by school librarian Fran Van Houten and Tom Dougherty, who’d taught PE and coached football at Faircrest for almost twenty-five years. Fran’s body was angled forward, her mouth slightly agape as she focused on Donna. Tom leaned back in his chair, cradling a cup of coffee in his large hands. He met Matt’s eyes and rolled his.

“If Carter hadn’t given notice,” Donna continued, “the school board would be investigating him as we speak.”

Carter Prioleau was leaving Faircrest after eleven successful years as the athletic director. He’d been instrumental in improving the school’s athletic facilities and helping to build a stable of winning coaches.

Tom cleared his throat and nodded to where Matt stood. Donna kept talking.

“It makes you wonder if Matt’s qualified to run the athletic department,” Donna said. “He should be distancing himself from the whole mess.”

Tom drew a circle in the air with his finger and pointed at Matt. Donna finally turned, her sleek dark hair swinging with the movement. Her face lost color until it was nearly the shade of the white Formica on the tabletop.

“Good morning, Donna.” Matt advanced so he was standing just steps from her. “Am I interrupting?”

She shook her head mutely.

“I thought I heard my name,” Matt said.

Donna mumbled something unintelligible, then rose. “I’ve got to get to class.”

“Me, too.” Fran got up so fast she bumped her knee on the underside of the table. “Except I’m going to the library. That’s where I’ve got to get to.”

The two women hurried off, their heels clicking on the linoleum, leaving Matt alone in the lounge with Tom. The other man was dressed in shorts and a maroon Faircrest High T-shirt, his standard work clothes. At over fifty, with muscle packed onto his short frame, Tom was a walking advertisement for the weight room.

“What was that all about?” Matt asked.

“If you’ve got a couple minutes, I’ll tell you,” Tom said.

Matt mentally went over his schedule and determined there was nothing that couldn’t wait. He started to pull out a chair and sit down.

“Not here.” Tom drained the rest of his coffee. “Somewhere we won’t be interrupted.”

“That leaves out the athletic office,” Matt said. “It’s a beautiful morning. Let’s go outside.”

To get there they needed to navigate a sea of teenagers, most of whom greeted them. When they finally walked through the double doors into the crisp morning air, yellow buses were lining up at the curb. Tom veered around the side of the school building toward a four-hundred-meter running track that Carter had successfully lobbied to have resurfaced.

“It’s quiet out here in the morning,” Tom said as they stepped onto the springy surface of the deserted track. Beyond it was a thicket of woods that separated the school property from a surrounding neighborhood. “Nobody will overhear us.”

“I appreciate that you’ve got my back, T.D.” Matt used the nickname Tom had gotten long ago when his teams started racking up touchdowns. “But I can handle the Donnas of the world.”

“That woman’s got a bigger mouth than a hippopotamus,” Tom said. “But it’s not just her. Everybody’s talking about Carter and that summer school teacher.”

“Carter told me she accused him of sexual harassment.” Matt had worked closely with the A.D. since being hired as his assistant. “He said it was blown way out of proportion.”

“Not according to the gossips,” Tom said. “Donna says it’s why Carter resigned before the school year started.”

“No way!” Matt’s exclamation startled into flight some sparrows foraging for insects in the infield grass.

Tom put up a hand. “Just telling you what I heard.”

“But that’s bull,” Matt said. “Carter had a tough summer, with his marriage breaking up like it did. He’s leaving town because he needs a change of scenery.”

“You can figure out why people think he’s getting a divorce,” Tom said.

It didn’t take much brain power. If the gossips believed Carter was guilty of sexual harassment, it followed they’d think he cheated on his wife.

“School started two weeks ago,” Matt said. “Why didn’t these stories come out then?”