Nina

Chapter 1

One of those perfect spring days. We get so few of them down here on the Gulf Coast between our two seasons: cold and wet, or hot and wet. I couldn't resist. I grabbed my e-book and headed for the park. The book stayed in the car while I fast-walked a couple of miles on the walking path. A good brisk walk felt good. I passed up all but one woman who, dressed in spandex and an athletic tank-top, was obviously a regular.

After my half an hour was up, I retrieved the e-book and settled onto a partially shaded park bench to read and relax. I was near the playground equipment and a half-dozen or so kids from toddler to about eight were climbing, swinging, sliding under the watchful eyes of a couple of adults, one an obvious mommy and the other with all the marks of a divorced dad doing his weekend with the kids. I opened my Kindle and punched up the middle of the book I was currently reading.

It was just about idyllic. The kids' voices were far enough away as to not be annoyingly loud, and they were all happy, and closer, I could hear squirrels and songbirds in the trees. I wished to myself that I'd brought the iPod with me, but oh, well ... I read. And every now and then I'd look up, eye distracted by some movement in my peripheral vision, or some sound caused me to look up, or just to change my focus to keep my eyes from tiring.

But the voice startled me. Feminine. With a lilt. "Excuse me. Is that a Kindle?"

I looked up. Young lady. Five-six, maybe five-seven. Not fat. Not skinny, but it was hard to get too specific. Her jeans were loose-fitting and her torso was under an over-sized sweatshirt with the logo of the local university emblazoned across the front. The face was pale, a scattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Eyes were an astounding light blue. Eyebrows and hair were dark, her hair almost black, except about an inch of the tips was bleached blonde, stopping just at her chin, and across her forehead at eyebrow level, a set of heavy, straight-cut bangs.

I was thinking "Goth" but the hair was dark brown, and her nose, lips and ears were bereft of the hardware affectations of most Goth chicks. Okay, ears ... A tiny silver round ear stud, conventionally placed in each ear.

All that thought took me about a second and a half before I answered her. "Yes, it is..."

She smiled. I thought to myself how well that fit her face. "I've been thinking about getting one. How's it working out for you?"

"Wonderfully," I said, and then we talked about how it worked and what it cost and what I liked and didn't like.

"Oh, by the way, I'm Nina. Nina Sayers." She offered her hand.

I shook it. "Dan. Daniel Gleason."

"Happy to meet you, Dan. I saw you walking earlier. You come here often?"

"No," I said. "Just in the spring when the days are pretty. This one's beautiful. And you?"

"Pretty often. I'm taking care of that little blonde girl and boy over there. Baby-sitting. If I bring 'em to the park, they'll be tired when I get them home and I can study."

"Study? High school? College?"

"High school senior." I mentally filed that. Seventeen, maybe eighteen. She looked at her charges clambering up the play equipment. "And you?"

I laughed. "Waaay past high school."

"Really ... New SUV. So where do you work?"

I named a local industrial facility.

"I know that place," she said. "I know some people who work there. What do you do?"

"Engineer," I said. "Electrical. I deal with power generation."

"Really?" She didn't sound as if she were feigning interest. "That's what I'm gonna major in when I go to college."

Now I folded my book closed. "Now that's interesting," I said. "No arts major, or mass communications, or teaching?"

"Nuh-uh," she said. "What's wrong? I don't fit the stereotype?"

"Oh, no," I laughed. "It's just that female engineers aren't that common, and I've NEVER met a fledgling."

Giggle. "I've never heard anyone use the term "Fledgling" in conversation before. 'Specially about ME!"

"Get used to vocabulary, Nina. Engineers have some. You're going here to college?"

"Yes," she said. "Where'd you get your degree?"

"Here. Fifteen years ago."

"Really? D'you think they did a good job teaching you?"

"Sure," I said. "But what makes you an engineer is what you do AFTER college."

"That's what I've heard," she said. "That's why I wish I could do something other than babysitting this summer. I mean, the money's okay. Actually the people I do this for pay me very well, but still..."

I reached into my pocket for my wallet and pulled out a business card. Handing it to her, I said, "This is me. That cell number is good around the clock. If you're up for a field trip, let me know. I can give you the tour at the plant."

Her eyes twinkled. "Wow! Thanks!" Her eyes went to an eight-year-old blonde girl approaching. "Oh, that's one of mine," she said. "I guess playtime's over."

The little girl whined, "Mizz Nina, I'm HUNGRY..."

"Okay, Haley," said Nina. "Go get your brother and we'll go..." Nina turned to me. "Dan, it's been really nice talking to you. Really. Maybe I'll see you here again. "She paused for a second, then she patted her jeans pocket. "Oh, no! I'll call you. I want that tour!"

I watched her gather up the two children and walk to a little sub-compact car. They all piled in and she drove off. Pretty young thing, I thought. And I went back to reading. An hour later I was home, alone in my house, except for a big cat that didn't think I was alone as long as HIS needs got met.

Saturday evening, sitting alone playing on the laptop and watching TV at the same time. Sunday morning, get up, fix a light breakfast, then hop in the car and go for a drive through the springtime countryside. Sunday evening, finish up the week's laundry, fix a bowl of soup, do a couple of miles walking in the neighborhood, then shower, and go to sleep after petting the cat, showering, shaving, petting the cat some more...

Monday morning I was at work. Tuesday, same thing. It was a good job. I worked with a compatible bunch of people and we managed our facility well. Office politics was almost non-existent and the pay was acceptable.

About me. I'm divorced. Didn't WANT to be divorced, but wasn't exactly in a textbook "happy marriage" either. But I could've lived with it. Unfortunately, the former wife was one of those "the grass is greener" people and she hauled up and took my daughter with her, three states away, with an old high school flame that she re-discovered on the internet after, just coincidentally, HE divorced HIS wife. And there I was, a house to myself (and the cat) and nothing but child support payments and occasional visits as a vestige of what I thought a "normal" life was supposed to be.

And a religious upbringing left me a mental wreck when I tried the modern dating/mating scene. Trouble was, every woman I'd met was either like the ex, looking for the greener pastures, or was the victim of a husband who'd pulled that stunt on her. And the baggage would've filled a freighter. I got far enough in a few relationships to meet the kids, and I could've gotten a major in abnormal child psychology. A few bouts of that, well, I gave up. I could see myself doing dinner and a movie, or a light social scene, but I wasn't bringing 'em home for the night, nor was I spending the night with any of 'em. My conscience rode tight herd on me.

That's why it was a surprise when, Wednesday evening, my cellphone rang and I didn't recognize the number on the display.

"Uh, hello. This is Dan..."

Female voice. "Hi, Dan! This is Nina. From the park, remember?"

"Oh, hi, Nina." I ran the slideshow entitled "Nina – cute teen girl" from my memory bank. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, thank you." Proper little thing, she was. "Does that offer still stand for the plant tour?"

"Sure. We need to set a date so I can get it all cleared. Next week?"

"Uh, okay ... How about Wednesday?"

"I'll do it. Afternoon?"

Tiny bit of a giggle. "That'll work. I'll make the arrangements on my end."

"We'll do it." I was thinking that this would be an interesting diversion.

"Oh, and Dan?"

"Yes, Nina?"

"I'll be at the park Saturday afternoon with the kids..."

This was a turn I hadn't expected. A ball had been lobbed my way. Interesting. Okay... "Okay, Nina. I was going to be there myself." I wasn't lying, at least not too much. The park was always an option, but I never planned a trip on a specific day.

Brightly, she said, "'Kay! See ya!"

"Okay, bye..." I punched the "end" button on my phone and laid it on the end table. I mulled over a couple of thoughts, none of them of any consequence, and I caught myself before any of them got too far.

Thursday was pretty much routine. Meetings. Walking around my little fiefdom, looking at big spinny things and checking to make sure that a million things were in the right places, doing the right things at the right times. I chatted with co-workers, drank an offered cup of horrible coffee, ate a donut that might have been better when it was bought early in the morning, and then I went back to my office. Last thing on the day's agenda was running down the list of last minute emails.

The normal ones were there, salesmen, other engineers, admin stuff, and ... one I didn't recognize. One from a NinaS8421. Normally my spam filter caught this stuff, but I clicked...

"Dan:

I checked with my guidance counselor about our field trip. He thinks it's a good idea, but he's interested in what sort of things are on the tour. Here's his email. Could you send him something about that? Make it sound impressive.

Thanks, Nina"

And a smiley emoticon.

That was easy enough. I composed a list of interesting features and sent it to him. That was my last shot for the day. I was out the door, out the gate, and on the way home.

In the house, I changed to shorts and walking shoes and did a couple of brisk miles. I was showering when I heard the phone ring. I stepped out and dried enough to pick it up. Nina.

"I hope I'm not bothering you, Dan," she said. "Is it a good time?"

"Well, Mizz Nina, I was in the shower. If you can call me back in twenty minutes..."

"Ooops! Sorry. I'll call back!"

"'Kay! Gimme twenty minutes."

I finished showering and shaving and donned my "knocking around the house in the evening" shorts and t-shirt. I kicked back in my recliner and ministered to the cat. He determined that he needed petting today.

And the cellphone rang again. I looked at the display. Now I recognized the number.

"Hi, Nina," I said.

"Hi, Dan..." she paused. "You don't mind me calling you Dan, do you. I mean, you ARE a lot older..."

I felt the vestigial bubble of my ego deflate. Yes, I was "older". "No, just call me Dan, Nina. That's fine."

Lilt in her voice. "Mmm-Kay! Did you get my email?"

"Yep! Sent one to your counselor. I should've copied you. I'll forward it to you in the morning."

"Thanks! I'm sorry I got you out of the shower."

"That's okay. Thank you for understanding. Some people will keep talking and let me drip dry..."

Giggle. "Yeah! I know. But what I called you about..."

"Okay, what DID you call me about?" I laughed.

"Trig." Her sigh was audible. "Trig finals are coming, and I wanted to see if you'd help me study..."

"Wow. I've been out of school for a while, Nina. Are you sure I'm the guy to help you?"

"Well it's not any of the other students, Dan ... I'm the top of the heap. But I'd like to get the most out of it."

"We could try, I guess. When?"

"Am I being rude if I ask if this evening would be okay? I mean, if you're not doing something..."

"I'm free."

"I'll drive over. Where do you live?"

I gave her a street address.

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"Oooo-kay, Nina. I'll be waiting." And when the phone call ended, I got up and made a frantic pass through the house, making sure that it was a cut above its normal tidiness. I looked at the cat. "Sam," I said. "Best behavior, bud. We got company coming." I was excited enough to talk to the cat. Oh, never mind. He and I had many conversations. Mine were about everything. His were about food and litter box and why I insisted on sitting in his favorite spot, my recliner.

The doorbell rang. I opened it and there she was, a bookbag dangling off her shoulder, those blue eyes twinkling, a big smile on her face.

"Come in," I said. The cat was at the door to evaluate the intrusion.

She saw him. "Who's this?" she asked.

"This is Sam. He runs the place. I am his unworthy and incompetent staff."

"Oooooh, what a beautiful big ol' cat!" She bent over, reaching for him. This is where Sam usually headed for a hidey hole. He wasn't the cuddly kind of cat. But he sat back on his haunches and let her pet his head. And purred.

"Wow!" I said. "You're the first visitor that's ever got to touch him."

"I like cats," she smiled. She closed the door behind her. "Where's the best place to work?"

"My office. Right this way." I brought her up the short hall, past the bathroom. The end of the hall had two doors, both open. One led to the bedroom, my king-sized bed (a vestige of a dead marriage) visible, and yes, made up perfectly, that is, except for Sam's cat-shaped wrinkles in the center. I noticed Nina look in that door.

The other door opened into my home office. I had a desk; a drafting table (got it for free. Everything was done on computers now), a computer table with a HUGE monitor, a file cabinet, a print rack and a couple of chairs. "Here," I said. "Pull up next to the desk."

She sat. I sat facing her as she pulled a trig book and some notes out. "This is nice. You don't work here, do you? I thought you worked at the plant."

"I do some side stuff. Consulting. This is where that happens. I have an office out there, too. You'll see it next week."

"Neat!" she said. She opened up her trig book and shuffled through some papers. "Here's what I want to go over..."

The next thirty or forty minutes we spend going over things. I had to stretch a bit. Yes, I took this stuff in school. And passed, quite handily. There was a "professional engineer" license displayed in my office. But it was still a matter of exercising memories I'd not needed for years. I managed. We managed. Nina actually prodded ME a couple of times, to her glee. And my discomfiture.

"It's two weeks to finals," she said. "I've got a scholarship."

"Really? To the engineering department?"

"Yessss!" she smiled. "But I wanna end high school on the best note."

"You should be proud, babe ... Nina!"

Her eyes cut toward me and at first I thought I'd done something wrong, but the smile stayed there. I'd just called her "babe". A slip of the tongue. But she was a babe. Hiding it in that baggy shirt, but from a range of three feet I saw a delightful face, soft, rounded, open, freckled. And smiling.

We finished up.

"You wanna coke, Nina?" I stood.

"Sure!" Brightly. She finished stuffing her book and papers back into her backpack. "This is nice."

"Nice?"

"Yeah. Your house. You keep it neat. I like how you turned this into an office. What's that other room?"

"Spare bedroom. It turns into a little girl's room for a month in the summer," I said.

"Little girl?"

"Yeah. My daughter's ten. She comes to stay with me for a month."

"So you're divorced."

"Uh-huh ... four years. Sad story. Not the sort of thing I should discuss with a teen-aged girl."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't being nosy."

"Oh, that's not what I mean. I mean, it's a sad story, and I'm glad you're visiting and I don't want to ruin the moment with sad stories."

She poked her head into the kitchen as I retrieved a couple of cokes and poured them over ice and handed her one. With a straw.

"Thanks," she said.

"Sit." I pointed to the end of the sofa. She sat, and immediately Sam showed up and snuggled up against her thigh. For a brief flash I hated Sam for his ability to do that.

She put her face to him and stroked his head with both hands. "You're just a big ol' fluffy kitty, huh, baby!"

"I can't believe he lets you do that. He won't even let ME do that, and I feed his sorry carcass."

She was sipping her coke and dangling a shoe off her toe.

"So tell me. What's with the hair?"

She tossed her head, bouncing it and flipped her hand under the back of her neck, giggling. "Oh, I just wanted to be striking. Grandma freaked."

"It IS striking," I said. "And I can see where grandma might just take exception to it."

"She's really pretty good about me. Bought me my car. I shouldn't jerk her around like this."

"You live with your grandma?"

"Like your divorce story. Long. And sad. Grandma's the happy ending."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah. Been at grandma's for two years now. Mom's, well, Mom's in prison."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Oh, don't be sorry for Mom. She wasn't innocent."

"Well..." I stuttered.

"Anyway, I live with Grandma, and life is pretty good. Could be better, but a lot of kids have it worse, too."

"Yeah, I guess so. Life can be messy."

She giggled. "That's a good word for it. Messy."

"So you're an honor student?"

For the last two years. Grandma pushes me. I did "C's" before I moved in with her. Didn't have to study or do homework to do C's. Grandma pushes, and I do A's."

"That's good. A's, especially if you're doing trig."

"Last year was geometry. I did two extra maths and two extra sciences. Chemistry and physics."

"You didn't take the easy road. I'd be proud..."

"Thank you. I am. I mean, I don't flaunt it, but I am." She glanced at her watch. "I guess I gotta go, Dan. Is it too much to ask about tomorrow?"

"No, but come over early and we'll go get something to eat. I'll buy."

Squeal! "Like a date?"

"Like eat and do homework."

She smiled a quirky grin. "Call it what you want. Five?"

"Perfect!"

I had trouble concentrating at work all day Friday. Like a kid going on a date to the movies with his young girlfriend. I slid out of the office right at the whistle and was home and bathed, shaved and ready when I heard the doorbell.

I opened the door to a surprise. The only views I had of Nina were somewhat frumpy, baggy jeans, loose-fitting shirt, hair not exactly disheveled, but not noticeably attended to. The girl standing at my door was dressed in a dark green dress that fitted her well, not tight, but formed, length stopping midpoint between hip and knee, a pair of matching pumps on her feet, and her hair, including the improbable blonde tips, was shining perfection.

It took my breath away. And in retrieving that breath, I caught a subtle hint of perfume.

She had the backpack clasped in her hands.

"Hi, Dan!"

"Good lord, Nina! You clean up very well..."

"UHHH!" she said, feigning irritation, "I didn't think I was doing THAT bad before..."

I laughed, "No you weren't. But it's like you just waxed a Maserati..."

She smiled. "I just thought you might be less scared to take me out in public if I wore something nice. Is this okay?"

"Uh, yeah! You choose wisely, fledgling."

"You called me that before, you know."

"Yes, little one, I DO know." I rattled my keys. "Where would you like to eat?"

"Oh, I don't know."

"Is there something you DON'T like?"

"Nope. I'll eat anything."

"Okay," I said. "Italian? As in NOT pizza?"

"Yeah, but where?"

We had two Italian places in easy distance. One was a national chain. The other was a local place with a good reputation. I named the second.

"Isn't that kinda expensive?"

"I'm buying. And you're dressed for it. Is it okay?"

"Oh, yes. I've eaten there once. I loved it."

Twenty minutes later my SUV pulled into the parking lot and I escorted Nina into the place like the princess she was. We sat at a table in a private corner, not by design, just by good fortune. And we talked.

"What's your grandma say about you coming over?" I asked.

"I told her, Dan. That you were an engineer and you were thirty-something and I met you at the park and you could help me with my school work. Why?"

"Because I don't want an angry grandma after me."

"She won't get mad, Dan. I don't date. I have a few friends at school, and sometimes I go out with a group, but I DON'T date guys."

I guess I raised my eyebrow a little too noticeably.

"Not like THAT! I'm ... I'm, well, DIFFERENT."

"Okay," I said, "do you want to tell me why you're different? I mean, you don't look like your name is really Bradley or something like that..."

She giggled. Did I tell you that her giggle was like tinkling little silver bells? It is. "Thank you for making me laugh. No. I'm a girl. For almost eighteen years. But I get called "dyke" at school because I've never been on a date, not a "date" date, you know, with holding hands and kissing and making out and stuff..."

"Oooohhhh!" Like I was getting it. But I wasn't getting it. Salads arrived. We ate. I noticed that she knew her way around silverware and etiquette.

"It's part of that sad story." She ate a bite of salad. "You might be interested to know that YOU'RE the first guy I've ever gone someplace with, alone."

"Uh, I'm flattered, Nina, but we're at a restaurant."

"I know," she said. "I know." She sighed. Then her nose wrinkled. "I love these peppers!" she chewed a pepperoncini. "What's gonna happen when they retire the space shuttle?"

And we talked about space missions and aviation and space exploration, on through her lasagna and my linguini with clams in white sauce.

She noticed a couple at the table across the room. "In another month I'll be able to have a glass of wine with my meal," she announced. Won't be able to buy it, but if YOU buy me one..."

"If YOUR grandmother says it's okay..."

"Yeah. You need to meet Grandma."

Why did I get the feeling that this was more important than it should have been?

We ended up back at the house, in the office, doing a little bit of studying. She showed me her English paper with an A on it. We looked at her science lessons, such that they were, two weeks before the end of school.

"I can't believe that they're starting reviews already," she said.

"Reviews?"

"Yeah," she snorted. "Two weeks of reviews so kids can pass the finals."

"Oh. Well, Nina," I chided, "everybody's NOT you. Not as smart. Don't catch on, don't retain like you do."

Nina looked at me. "I know ... but sometimes I just want to LEARN!" She was putting her books in the bag.

"Got time for another coke?"

"Yeah. I gotta use your bathroom, though."

I went to the kitchen to fix our drinks and heard the toilet flush. She was leaning over the bar smiling at me a minute later.

"I noticed something," she laughed.

"What? You've got a mischievous look on your face."

"Only ONE toothbrush."

"Meaning exactly what?"

"Just that you don't have somebody else staying here with you. At least not often enough to leave a toothbrush."

"Either that or I date women with poor dental hygiene."

She laughed. "Yeah, that is a distinct possibility."

While I was handing her a glass of coke and ice, I was mulling over a couple of things, first, that she had a quick and inquisitive mind, and second, that she was checking on my single status.

This time we sat at opposite ends of the sofa.

"Lots of books," she said.

"Not as bad since I got the Kindle," I said.

"Uh-huh. And CD's." She got up and scanned the labels, reading some off. "Mendelsohn. Bach. Mozart. Beethoven. Boccherini ... Wow! You've got taste, mister!"

"Try telling that to my ex," I said. "Now I can listen to it any time I want. Alone."

She fixed her eyes on mine. "I love this stuff."

"You got an iPod? I can fill you up!"

"I'll bring it next time," she smiled.

"I thought kids were all into hip-hop and stuff."

She shook her head. "Or here, country and western is big. And I can't do either of them. Noise. Production. Do you ever wonder what went on in Bach's head when he was doing the Brandenburg Concerti?"

"Concerti?" She KNEW the difference.

"Yes. Plural of concerto ... Can you imagine getting into the mind of Mozart or Beethoven? And I'm supposed to get all overheated over four guys who use volume to cover lack of innovation and skill? Puh-leazzzze!"

"My thoughts exactly, babe," I said. I knew she caught "babe" this time. Her eyes...

She sat back down. "It's stuff like that, you know, that makes me NOT fit in. I mean, I can't sit with a bunch of girls my age and get all excited about boy bands and fingernail polish and who's going with who and who's doing what ... It's just not ME. I want to be ME."

"Took me thirty years to figure that out, Nina. Do you know who YOU are?"

"I think so, Dan." Her face was serious. "I have plans for school. I know more about how people are than most people."

"What makes you think that?"

"Living with Mom ... when she wasn't dumping me at Grandma's. I mean, I think sometimes she tried to be a mom, but it wasn't her. And I learned about relationships, because she COULDN'T get it right. Kept experimenting. I learned about women and men and how they are and can be and how things can be so wrong and people just keep doing the same things over and over hoping that something different will happen."

"Wow..."

"Mom's in prison for prostitution and being involved in a meth lab..." Her head hung. She raised it. There was a tear on her cheek.

"I'm sorry, Nina. I wasn't trying to make you sad..."

"Oh, I know, Dan. You've just been nice to me. I don't know why I'm telling you this. I'm just harshing our mellow."

"Nina, you're my friend. Friends talk. Even when it hurts. And sometimes talking makes things feel better."

"Thank you, Dan. For listening."

"And your mom, whatever she did, that's nothing to do with YOU. You're smart and cute and you have your head on straight."

"It's not THAT straight, Dan. Sometimes I'm scared ... I mean, Mom didn't start that way. I don't want to end up like that."

"Your grandma is taking care of you, babe, and you'll do just fine."

She picked up her backpack. Standing there in that green dress, NOT smiling, she was still beautiful.

I stood to escort her to the door. We eased toward it and I opened it for her. She turned to me and looked into my eyes. And kissed me. Light, almost like the touch of a butterfly. On the lips. For a brief second. "You're a good friend, Dan."

"You're a beautiful, bright, delightful girl, Nina." I sighed. Inside I wished I was twenty years younger.

As she walked the short distance to her car, she looked over her shoulder. "Tomorrow. One o'clock. At the park."