The Billionaire Band Director

Chapter 20

    Martha

    Martha did not like surprises, but for some reason she trusted Landry.  Maybe she was just feeling grateful that he had not brought up her embarrassing escape from his car, and had seen past it enough to ask her out again.  Maybe she was too eager to make her fantasies of him come true.  After all, hadn’t he promised that a lot more than kissing was going to happen next time?  Martha was very excited for next time.

    Over the next few days the rest of the teachers starting arriving at the school.  More cars could be seen driving through the woods and the halls of the main school building were less empty.  Martha had been given her own office on the third floor of the school, with a mahogany desk and bookshelf, soft leather chairs for herself and visitors, and a view of the gardens behind the school.  Other teachers would stop by to introduce themselves.  Martha made an effort to spend more time at the school so she could be there when teachers stopped by to say hello.  To Martha’s disappointment, the only people who came to see her were teachers she hadn’t met before and administrators who needed her for various things.  She had not seen a certain music teacher with thick dark curls and caramel skin… 

    That’s ok, she told herself.  I would almost certainly embarrass myself if he stopped by with no warning.  I can wait until Saturday.

    And then it was Saturday.

    Martha decided to spend the morning in her office.  With school starting in two days, the halls were full of teachers preparing for the new semester.  Students also started to arrive on Saturday, and Martha saw several walking through the school with their parents.  Martha did not have a dedicated classroom to herself, so she studied each room where her classes would take place and assessed how she would assign seating and what she would need to bring with her to each class.  She reread each syllabus she had made over and over again.  The world literature classes had a dedicated textbook, and she decided that for her first year it would be safest to follow the chronological order the textbook already used.  For her Latin American literature class, Martha would use a collection of works but supplement it with stories and poetry she felt it was missing.  For both of her magical realism classes she decided to curate her own curriculum from scratch.  She had assembled a collection of short stories and scholarly writings about magical realism, which the school quickly got printed into spiral-bound packets for students.  She also selected a few books, which the school then ordered in bulk.  All the textbooks, packets, and novels were neatly stacked on Martha’s bookshelf in her office. She was ready.

    Martha headed back to Dahlia House around 2 pm.  More students were arriving with their parents and she wanted to be out of the way.  On her walk home, she thought about what she should wear for her mysterious date.  Landry’s texts gave no hint about what they were doing.  For all she knew, they could be going rock climbing or to the opera.  Martha could not think of attire that would be suitable for both rock climbing and the opera.  By the time she had reached the house, Martha had decided to be prepared for anything.  She would wear a dress and hide shorts and a tank top in her purse.  She had also decided on wearing the red dress from Betsy.  She had deemed it too slutty for a first date, but hey, Landry had promised more than kissing this time, right?

    Martha made it to her loft and took a quick shower.  She wiggled in to the tight red dress.  She opted for more natural make up, to balance out the clear messages the dress was sending.  Even though her mother’s ghost did not appear, Martha took the ghost’s previous advice and went with undergarments she’d be happy to have Landry see on her, or on the floor.  She was ready an hour early, so she went downstairs to prepare a dinner for Josie to eat while she was gone.

    Josie’s eyes went wide when she saw Martha’s dress, but she wisely kept her mouth shut.  Martha went to the kitchen and started gathering ingredients for tamales.

    “Tamales?” groaned Josie.  “It’s just me.  You don’t need to go all full-on Mexican grandma tonight.”

    Martha laughed.

    “I like cooking for you.  It’s no trouble at all.”

    “Marthaaaaaaa” Josie whined.  “Seriously.  Just let me make a frozen pizza or something.”

    Martha knew Josie got sick of Mexican food, but it was all Martha really knew how to make.  Whenever Martha felt guilty that she wasn’t doing an adequate job as Josie’s guardian, she tried to rectify that by making a full home-cooked Mexican feast.  The idea of leaving Josie alone while Martha was off with Landry, doing more than kissing, made Martha want to open a whole private Mexican restaurant just for Josie.

    “Really Martha.  It’s completely unnecessary. Whatever you make, I’ll probably just end up eating pizza anyway.”

    Martha knew there was some truth in that.  After all, it would not have been the first time that Martha made a delicious dinner from scratch and Josie refused to eat it.  Plus, Martha was already dressed, and she had a feeling that if she got sauce on a designer dress Betsy had bought it would be dry clean only.  Sighing, Martha put away the tamales ingredients.  She got a bowl of fruit out of the refrigerator.

    “Promise me you’ll eat something with some nutritional value tonight,” she insisted.”

    Josie smiled.  “I promise.”

    Martha set the fruit on the kitchen island.

    “All your favorite fruit is right here.  There’s carrots and green beans in the fridge.  And your precious frozen pizza is in the freezer.”

    Josie jumped up from her seat to preheat the oven.  Noticing Martha’s gaze, she then went to the island and grabbed an apple out of the fruit bowl.

    “Good girl,” said Martha.  “Call me if you need anything, anything at all.”

    “I know, Martha.”

    “And don’t stay up too late.”

    “Ok, Martha.”

    “And don’t leave the house or open the door for anyone.”

    “Ok, Martha.”

    “And…”

    The doorbell rang.