Shy Charlotte’s Brand New Juju (Romantic Comedy) (10 page)

BOOK: Shy Charlotte’s Brand New Juju (Romantic Comedy)
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His heart seized when he thought of it. She was the one who
had left him. She didn’t want to be married to him anymore.

The very day that she had seen Loopy Lisa, she had thrown
him out. Just like that. Even though it seemed pretty obvious to him what was
going on there. The old Charlotte would have laughed and said something glib
like “Ew. Tell her to put her clothes on, or I’ll come kick her ass.” But she
had come in and then it was over. And that night he had found himself on his
buddy’s couch and he had related the sheer unfairness of it, the cruelty with
which she wouldn’t even listen to an explanation.

This guy was a perennial bachelor who had seen it all. Hell,
he had probably taken Loopy Lisa up on her offers once or twice. Caleb expected
him to say that Charlotte had gone nuts and he was better off without her. But
he hadn’t. Instead, he had said, “Dude. Don’t let her get away. You’ve got to
work for a girl like her.”

And that’s precisely what he was about to do.

Chapter Eight

Charlotte stood at the entrance to The Little Purple
Polka-Dotted Schoolhouse, a tiny white building on the edge of town where everything
that held still long enough had been painted with grape-colored bubbles.

It was 7 a.m., on the dot, and no one had yet arrived.
Didn’t people have to go to work in this town? She sat in her car and wondered
why she was so nervous to start a job that paid eight dollars an hour and that
she didn’t really want in the first place. What was she even doing here? She
had to reschedule this morning’s session with Leopold, and she was growing to
like…

A silver convertible screeched up next to her and a young woman
with platinum blonde braids hopped out of the driver’s seat.  She wore a
mini-dress edged with purple tulle, stripy knee socks and clunky pink hiking
boots.

Charlotte stood from her own car now, suddenly questioning
her own choice of footwear.

“Can I help you?” the young woman asked, in the bright and
breathy voice of a preschool teacher. She was fiddling with the keys for the
front door and having a rather difficult time of it. She had glitter on her
neck and two perfectly pink dots of blush on her cheeks.

“I’m Charlotte MacDougall,” she announced, using the rah-rah
voice. “I am supposed to start working here today.”

“Oh.” The young woman looked her up and down, then, stopped
at her chest, just the way Tony had. Odd. Charlotte crossed her arms, then
uncrossed them. She was the adult here, she reminded herself, and probably
almost twice this woman’s age.  

“Tony Giordano sent me. I was under the impression he spoke
with you.”

“Oh. Grandpa.” She smiled to reveal two deep dimples, just
as she managed, finally, to swing the front door open. “I’m Tabitha. And I’m in
charge.” Parents and children were beginning to pull into the lot, and Tabitha motioned
Charlotte to enter, along with the day’s tiny charges, most of whom hopped and
skipped inside. All except one blond boy who stood beyond the door, clutching
the thigh of his mother and sobbing.

“We do this every day with this kid,” Tabitha-Who-Was-in-Charge
said. “With some of the more difficult drop-offs, we have the kids shove their
parents out the door. It really empowers them. Makes them feel like, you know,
‘Get out of here, mom!’”

“And that works?”

“Mostly, yes.”

“And this child? There, at the door?” 

“He’s a tough one. Mom is a stay at home mom.” Tabitha rolled
her eyes. “So he’s only here once a week. It makes it really hard on us. We
like the kids to be here at least two days a week. And, of course, it’s best if
they are full time.”

“Huh.”

“None of us can get that kid to come in without a fight.
It’s rotten. I dread the day he comes.”

“Mind if I give it a try?”

“Be my guest.”

Charlotte went to stand next to him. She knelt down and was
careful not to look at him too directly. If there was anything she had learned
from parenting her girls, it was how to talk to a shy kid.

When Charlotte introduced herself, the little boy burrowed
deeper into his mother’s legs.

“You know,” his mother said, “sometimes I just want to take
him back home with me. But Tabitha says I’ll really mess him up if I do that.
That he’ll never want to go to school and stay.”

Charlotte straightened up to face her.

“It’s just…” the mother continued, her palm stroking her
son’s head, “his dad is going through some health problems right now, and I
think he’s kind of confused and scared and I just feel like my boy  needs me
right now. And,” she paused and blinked twice, fast, “And I don’t know why I’m
telling you all of this.”

As Charlotte looked into the mother’s eyes, she felt as
though she were stepping back in time, dropping off her girls at the
babysitter’s house. She hadn’t done it often, but, each time, she felt a
clenching inside, an ambivalence that made her want to turn and run.

“It just breaks my heart to leave him,” the mother was
saying. “But, I know, Tabitha already told me, it’s not about me. It’s about
what’s easiest for my son.”

In this case, Charlotte thought, it seemed to be about what
was easiest for Tabitha. She took a deep breath and spoke softly, “I’ve only
just begun working here.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Literally three minutes ago. But if you need to take
your child home with you today, you need to do that. He’ll be okay.”

“I’m not going to mess him up?”

“Most certainly not.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Charlotte took a deep breath and then she said, “Listen.
Sometimes we have to do things differently than the way everyone wants us to.
Differently than the way everyone tells us to do them. He’s your son, and he is
going to be with you for the rest of your life, and you know what should be done
right now. Today. You know him better than anyone. Even...”She winked, “better
than Tabitha.”

“Tabitha is going to be mad if I take him right now. Outstandingly
mad.”

“I’ll break it to her. I’ll explain. You just do what you
need to do.”

Charlotte leaned down once again, to speak with the boy, who
was staring up at her with his nut brown eyes. “We’d love to have you join us
today,” she said, “But you are going to make that decision with your mom.”

And then Charlotte put her hand on the mother’s arm, gave it
a squeeze, and walked away, into one of the classrooms. When she turned again,
the two were gone.

Where had all of those words come from? She all of a sudden
knew what she wanted to say, just by looking at that mother’s poor confused
face. It was what she wished someone had told her once. She felt a lift in her
chest about it all, but the fact remained that she had been in this purply
little preschool fewer than five minutes and had probably already cost them a
client. Tony Giordano didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, thinking
she would be perfect for this.

Tabitha poked Charlotte on the shoulder with her index
finger. “They are still going to have to pay, you know,” she said, “For the
day. Did you explain that to her? We don’t give discounts for bratty kids. We
should make them pay
more
.” She poked at her again. “So when that phone
call comes in—when that mom wants to know why her bill was for the full amount—I’ll
make sure to have you field that call.”

“Well, okay.”

“Also, just so you know…We try never to treat any child like
they are special,” Tabitha said, “Because then they’ll come to expect that kind
of treatment.”

It was then that Charlotte decided to spend her time
interacting with the kids, and not the other teachers. She sat in the corner
and built blocks and played rocket ship and pirates and read storybooks in a
hushed voice.

She had to admit, the day slid by and, before she knew it,
it was time to go, which is when Tabitha said, “If you come back to work with
us, you are going to need to be smarter. Otherwise, you’ll never last.”

“Okay.” Was she getting fired or reprimanded?

“I mean, you let that snotty kid put his nose right on your
neck. You are going to get sick.”

“Oh, Bryce? He just needed someone to snuggle with for a
minute.”

“You’ll learn. Soon enough. We stay away from the ones that
are leaking fluid.”

Thirteen years as a mom had taught Charlotte it was the
fluid leakers who needed you most of all. She nodded to Tabitha, just the same,
and turned to go. 

***

Charlotte had rescheduled her session with Leopold for the early
evening, after work. And when she arrived at the health club, she was surprised
to see him waiting for her in the lobby. When he saw her, he grinned and thrust
both palms in front of his body. What did he want? To smack her head? She
pulled her lips tight and ducked a little.

“Hey! High five,” he demanded.

“What?”

“Give me a high five, Miss Charlotte MacDougall.”

“Okay.” This was sure a new side of Leopold. She hesitated
and then slapped at his hands.

“You made it.”

“To what?”

“To session four.”

“Okay. Is that good?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, good.”

“These first three sessions, I was observing how you handled
intimidation.”

“Oh.”

“You handle it not so well.”

“Oh.”

“Terrible.”

“Oh.”

“Could you not tell that I was trying to intimidate you?”

“Well…I could tell that you were succeeding.” And there went
that nervous, tittering laugh she hated.

“I find I get excellent results with my clients in the first
three sessions. I never made one pass out, though. That was a first.”A great
booming laugh shot out of his mouth. Also, a bit of spittle. “So how did you
like it when I was Mean and Scary Leopold?”

“I liked it not so much.” She laughed at the way his eyes
were bulging out at her now. This must have been what Slicky had been talking
about when he said Leopold was a jerk at first. He had been trying to warn her,
to tell her she was being tested.

“I can still be mean and scary, so watch yourself.” Leopold laughed
again. “The truth is, Miss Charlotte MacDougall, it is always good to be a
little intimidating at the beginning. So you know to take me seriously.” He
pointed his thumbs at his chest.

“Right. “

“You are too easy to intimidate. To scare.”

“You mentioned that.”

“We work on that. I will give you advices. Do not worry.” He
made a note on his clipboard. “While I am mean and scary, get up on the
scale.” 

Ugh. She looked down at her feet. At least she had skinny
feet.  

“Come on. Up.”

And yep. It was as bad as she had thought. She was up a full
three pounds.

“Probably just the time of day,” he said. “Or you are
gaining muscle mass and losing fat.” But he squinted at her waist, her arms,
and the other parts that were not as skinny as her feet.

Or it was all those Musclebars
, she thought, but that
was her little secret.  They were easy to gobble down before workouts, on the
way to the preschool, while lying in her bed. Working out, she found, made her
so damn hungry.  

And Leopold, she had come to discover, had some food
obsessions of his own. First, he ate black chia seeds by the tablespoonful
between workouts, and sometimes they got stuck in his teeth and along his gums.
In addition, at present, he was tremendously into yams.

“The yam diet is easy peasy,” he explained to her, as the
day’s workout drew to a close. “Every four hours, on the dot, you eat a yam.”

“Like a sweet potato?”

“No. A yam.” His voice lowered and took on a formal quality,
as though he were reading from a brochure. “A wild yam. Wild yams contain thirty-four
percent of your daily-recommended allowance of Vitamin C, forty percent of Vitamin
B6, and twenty-six percent of potassium. Plus, they are a…how do you say?…
complex
carbohydrate, making them perfect for eating after workouts. At only 180
calories, they are delicious any time of day.”

“You sound like a commercial.”

“Well, I believe in yams. Wild yams.” he said.

“What makes them wild?”

“I don’t know. But they must be wild.”

 “So what do you put on them?”

“Oh, nothing. I microwave them and eat them.” He scratched
at his head. “You should try it, Miss Charlotte. I will tell Fiona to make sure
you are eating wild yams.”

“Okay.” Goodie.

“So let us talk about why the scale is not moving down for
you.”

“Okay.”

“Do you think this is the size you were meant to be?”

How could she tell him she didn’t think she was so very overweight,
seeing as how everyone else in this town thought she was?

“Miss Charlotte, are you happy with this size you are?” He
prodded.

She studied his face. Where was he going with this?  

“Because I think you could be very sexy at this size.”

Sure, if the weight that was in her ass moved up to her
boobs. Still, she appreciated him saying so, and she smiled.  

“You really are not so fat,” Leopold continued.

“You know,” Charlotte said, quietly, “I actually don’t feel
fat. Unless you tell me I am fat. Or my sister does. So thanks for saying that
you don’t think I am.”

“Why should it matter what we tell you about your body?”

“I don’t know. It just does.”

“You are too easy to intimidate. To manipulate.”

“I’m starting to get that message.”

“And, anyway, fat has nothing to do with how sexy you are,” Leopold
said.

“That’s kind of funny, coming from you.”

“Why is it funny coming from me?”

“Because you are my personal trainer.”

His head snapped up and down. “And I am also your Confidence
Coach. And it is a fact. You are
volumptuous.
That is all. All you need,
to be sexier, is some confidence.”

She wanted to correct him: The word is
voluptuous,
without
the lump. But maybe it wasn’t, in her case, so, instead, she said, “Is that
so?”

“Sure. Look at me. I’m hid-e-ass.” He spit the word out. “With
my big head. My bad skin. My small ears.” He lowered his voice. “Did you know
that some people say I look like Shrek, the ogre?”

She covered her mouth with her hand.

“But also sexy, yes?”

She had to admit that he was.

“How do you explain this, if it weren’t simply my att-i-tude?”
He punched each syllable.

She shrugged.

 “And you. You actually are beautiful. Very ‘not hid-ee-ass.’
So you start to realize this, and you would be so sexy. Out-of-this-world sexy.
Knock-my-jeans-off sexy.”

“Knock my…what?”

“Is that the expression?”

“Oh. Knock my socks off. I think that’s what you mean.”

He laughed. “Ah. Socks, jeans. Whatever. You would knock
them straight off.” And he smiled at her.

She laughed, nervously, and couldn’t help but wonder, was he
trying to change her from a personal training client to a…nother kind of
client. Ew. But she said, “So how do you recommend I start to realize it? All
my sexiness?”

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