Zimmerman Academy_New Beginnings Read online

  Zimmerman Academy

  New Beginnings

  by

  Kathi Daley

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016 by Katherine Daley

  Version 1.0

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

  Table of Contents

  Part One

  Welcoming the Girls

  The First Day of School

  The First Date

  New Traditions

  Our First Dinner Party

  The First Kiss

  The New Forty

  Part Two

  The Birthday Mystery

  Books by Kathi Daley

  Note to reader:

  This book is divided into two sections. The first contains a reprint of the chapters from Phyllis’s perspective that were included in Hopscotch Homicide, Ghostly Graveyard, and Santa Sleuth. The second contains a new short story that takes place on Phyllis’s birthday.

  Part One

  Phyllis’s Diary

  Welcoming the Girls

  The First Day of School

  The First Date

  New Traditions

  Our First Dinner Party

  The First Kiss

  The New Forty

  Welcoming the Girls

  Looking back, I knew in my gut that my life was about to change forever. As an intentionally isolated individual who had spent the past sixty-two years avoiding the complicated emotional entanglements that seem to come standard with interpersonal relationships, I found that I was a lot more nervous than I wanted to admit. I guess the first time I really let the effects of my actions sink in was the day the girls arrived. As I stood stoically in my living room, waiting for Armageddon to rain down, I felt the life I had built to that point slowly slipping away.

  “Oh, lord, what have I done?” I asked my cat, Charlotte.

  Charlotte wound her body around my legs in a circle eight pattern as I looked out the window. What made me think I could take responsibility for three teenage girls? Was I crazy?

  Apparently.

  When Zak talked to me about helping him with the Zimmerman Academy, I’m afraid I let sixty-two years of loneliness burst forth in an orgasmic eruption of helpfulness.

  “Sure, I’d love to help you oversee development,” I said aloud. “You want me to be the principal? It would be a dream come true. Help out with the teaching during this first year of transition? Absolutely.” I looked down at Charlotte. “Whatever was I thinking?”

  Charlotte stopped her journey through my legs and jumped up onto the table next to where I was standing. She knew she was not allowed on the table, but she also knew I was so far into my tirade that I wouldn’t pay her the least bit of attention.

  “I know I didn’t have to offer to lodge the girls,” I admitted. “It just seemed to make sense at the time. We do have a lot of extra bedrooms in this big, empty house.”

  Charlotte greeted my rant with a yawn, followed by a look of derision.

  “Fat lot of help you are.” I sighed. “Do you think it’s too late to back out?”

  Charlotte rolled her eyes. Or at least I imagined she’d roll her eyes if cats could actually perform such a task.

  I looked out the window to the yard I’d so painstakingly nurtured. It was a lot of work, but my flower garden gave me such a deep feeling of serenity and contentment. I’d always wanted a cottage-style house despite the fact that I’d settled in the mountains. When I’d first seen the large two-story structure, which was so different from the log houses that populated the area, I knew I’d found the home I’d always dreamed of. The garden hadn’t grown up overnight. It had taken years of love and nurturing to coax the seedlings into large and healthy plants. Over the years I’d found that gardening in an alpine environment can be challenging at the least.

  I turned away from the window and looked around the room. I decided the baby grand piano really could use a good dusting even though I’d dusted that morning. I thought about heading toward the cleaning supply closet to look for a dust cloth, but I realized the girls wouldn’t care about imaginary dust. I glanced at the clock. It was seven minutes after four. Hadn’t Zak said they’d be here at four?

  Charlotte jumped from the table to the windowsill and meowed. I looked out the spotlessly clean window just in time to see the large white van as it rolled to the curb.

  Just breathe.

  I took one last look at the surgically clean room and turned toward Charlotte. “They’re here. Are you ready?”

  Charlotte took one look at the crew that was piling out of the van, jumped off the windowsill, and took off up the stairs.

  Traitor.

  I took a deep breath and looked down at the pencil skirt I’d worn with sensible shoes and a white silk blouse. If there was ever an outfit that was all wrong for meeting a group of teenage girls for the first time this was it.

  God, Phyllis, you are such an old maid. They’re going to hate you.

  As Zak helped the girls unload their things, I looked in the hallway mirror and considered the woman I’d become. Where had the years gone? It seemed like only yesterday that Bobby Davenport had asked me out on the one and only date I’d ever been asked on. I’d had a crush on the guy for over a year and couldn’t believe he had actually noticed me. I remember that it felt like I was swimming in a pool of desire and excitement when he smiled at me. Which is why I’d, quite illogically, turned him down.

  I’d used the pretext of having a history exam to study for, but I knew in my heart that wasn’t true. At the time I don’t remember making a conscious decision never to date, fall in love, or marry. In that moment all I’d really decided was that I was too scared to go on that date. I remember wondering how I’d gotten to be an elderly twenty-one years old without ever having been kissed. Everyone else I knew was well versed in the art of lovemaking by the time they’d reached their third decade, but me? I’d buried my face in a book, ignored the world, and missed my one and only chance at normal.

  I touched my hand to the slight wrinkling around my eyes. I hadn’t even noticed that my skin had begun to sag. It felt as if it had happened in a heartbeat. One moment I was a young and vibrant academic with a bright future ahead of her and the next I was an old woman living with a cantankerous cat.

  “It’s never too late for a new beginning,” I coached myself as I tucked a lock of gray hair into a serviceable bun. “No need to fret about what could, would, and should have been. Today I will turn the page and begin a new chapter.”

  I ran a hand over the surface of the spotless coffee table one last time before I headed to the front door and opened it wide.

  “Zak, Zoe.” I held out my arms to the couple I’d grown to care for deeply. “I’m so happy you finally made it.”

  “Sorry we’re late,” Zoe said as she hugged me as soon as she arrived at the front door. “The traffic was a bear.”

  “I can imagine it would be, given the holiday.”

  “Phyllis King, this is Eve, Pepper, and Brooklyn,” Zoe introduced with enthusiasm.

  I greeted each of the girls in turn.

  Eve Lambert was tall and thin, with brown eyes and straight brown hair that hung to her shoulders. The youngest of the group at fourteen, she was shy yet polite and always seemed to say all the right things, but her inner light didn’t quite reach her eyes. I knew in a minute that Eve was a younger version of myself. Her breeding was too engrained into her personality to a
llow her to appear bored even though it was obvious she was bored. I’m certain she was counting down the minutes until she could retire to her room and dive back into the book she was clutching in one hand.

  Prudence “Pepper” Pepperton was a tiny little thing who reminded me a lot of Zoe. She had dark curly hair and blue eyes that danced when she spoke. Pepper was the middle “child” at fifteen. Based on the way she was jumping around with more energy and enthusiasm than could be contained in one body, I was confident in going out on a limb and thinking she was going to be the ice breaker and cheerleader of the group. When I was fifteen I would have found Pepper’s enthusiasm exhausting, but now I found myself somewhat enchanted by the elflike girl who ruthlessly abused the English language as she talked a mile a minute about anything and everything.

  Blond-haired, blue-eyed Brooklyn Banks was the girl I’d always secretly longed to be. At sixteen she was beautiful and sophisticated, with a natural confidence that stated to the world that she knew what she wanted and knew how to get it. I could never have pulled off the Brooklyn attitude when I was her age, even if I’d been half as beautiful as she. She too looked bored, but unlike Eve, who wanted to dive into a book, I suspected Brooklyn wanted to dive into the boyfriend she’d been forced to leave behind when she’d been kicked out of her last school for smoking in the dorm.

  I stepped aside and invited everyone inside as Zoe competed with Pepper for airtime. Zak brought in the luggage as Pepper and Zoe talked a mile a minute, but to be honest, I wouldn’t remember a thing either of them said. I smiled as was expected, and I’m sure I was able to string together comprehensible sentences, but I really couldn’t remember ever being as nervous as I was at meeting the trio of young women I was about to share my life with.

  “Let me show you to your rooms so you can get settled in before dinner,” I offered after the luggage had been deposited in my entryway.

  Suddenly my house felt full. I hadn’t lived with anyone, other than a series of feline companions, since I’d moved out of my parents’ house to attend college. I’d had a few opportunities along the way to share my life with a roommate, but I’d always liked the quiet. Not that I hadn’t had friends. During my sixty-two years I’ve shared my life with many wonderful people. But in all that time, I’ve never shared my life with anyone who was really mine.

  Zak and Zoe followed behind the girls as I escorted my new housemates to the rooms I had chosen for them. Each of the three bedrooms I’d selected was large and nicely decorated. Each room had both a bed and sitting area, and each had a private bath.

  “I don’t do pink,” Brooklyn informed me when I opened the door to a bedroom with a pink duvet, pink curtains, and a white sofa.

  “I like pink,” Pepper offered.

  “Very well, then, Pepper, this shall be your room,” I decided.

  Pepper trotted inside and jumped up on the bed, squealing in delight when she noticed the clawfoot tub in the corner. She hopped off the bed and ran across the room to the tub, which she immediately climbed into to check it out for a comfortable fit.

  “Dinner will be at seven. I hope you like pork roast.”

  “I love all food,” Pepper assured me.

  I smiled and took a breath. One down, two to go.

  Zak delivered Pepper’s luggage to her room while Zoe, Brooklyn, and Eve followed me down the hall. I opened the door to the room I had at one time converted into an office and library but had since converted back into a bedroom. The conversion of the room was complete other than the fact that I hadn’t had the opportunity to remove all the books from the shelves.

  “Bookshelves.” Eve gasped. “Lots and lots of bookshelves, packed with all these lovely books. Can this room be mine?”

  Brooklyn shrugged. “Fine by me.”

  Eve walked directly over to the wall that was lined with dark cherry wood shelving. I’d seen the love in her eyes when she’d spotted my rare book collection. I felt some of the tension leave my body, only to return when Eve informed me that she was a vegetarian. I almost panicked until I realized I had both a salad and vegetables to go with the pork roast, as well as whole grain bread I’d picked up that morning from the bakery. My mind immediately turned to other vegetarian options. Perhaps I’d try the new recipe I’d recently found for spinach ravioli lasagna, or maybe even the eggplant casserole I’d recently tried at a friend’s house. Two down and only one to go.

  The last room was the largest of the three. It was nicely furnished and spacious, but the truly amazing thing about it was the walk-in closet with satin-lined drawers, shoe racks, and a rotating clothing rod. When I noticed Brooklyn’s look of boredom turn into one of elation, I knew deep inside that things were going to be all right.

  “Do you have any dietary restrictions?” I asked as Brooklyn twirled around in the middle of the huge closet.

  “I don’t eat carbs.”

  “No carbs. Got it. Is there anything else I should know?”

  Brooklyn stopped twirling and looked at me. “I haven’t had a mother for a very long time; I don’t need mothering.”

  “Don’t have a mother? But I just recently spoke to your mother.”

  “I didn’t mean literally; I just mean that I’m sixteen and have lived away from home since I was very young. I’ve attended boarding school during the academic year and camp during the summer since I was six. I’m used to taking care of myself and making my own decisions.”

  “I see.”

  Brooklyn must have noticed my look of concern because she quickly followed up with, “Look, I’m not going to be a problem. I promise. It’s actually very nice of you to allow me to stay here after I was kicked out of my old school. I just wanted to let you know that I don’t need a lot of active parenting.”

  “All right,” I said. “I can respect that, and as long as you follow the house rules and do well in your classes I’ll try to give you some space.”

  “Awesome. I’m going to need to find a local doctor. Can you recommend one?”

  “Are you ill?” I asked.

  “Birth control.”

  “Oh.” I know I blushed, which I found embarrassing; a woman of my age should be able to discuss birth control without turning red.

  God, Phyllis, you are such a child.

  After I assured Brooklyn I would get her a list of gynecologists in the area, I left the girls to unpack. Once I’d taken a few deep breaths to steady my pounding heart, I said my good-byes to Zak and Zoe and headed toward the kitchen to check on the meal I’d prepared. I like to cook but rarely do with only myself to feed. It would be nice to have mouths to feed on a regular basis, even if two of them had adopted restricted diets.

  I rechecked the oven for what must have been the tenth time that day. The meat looked moist and tender, as I’d hoped it would be. Eve, I decided, was going to miss out on something wonderful.

  I put the potatoes on to boil and decided to head into the formal dining room to set the table. I’m not certain why I’d purchased such a large table when I’d bought and furnished the house. I rarely entertained and certainly never fed enough people to even begin to fill each of the twelve hardwood chairs. I planned to set one end of the table to create a more intimate dining experience.

  After wiping down the dust-free surface I turned toward the antique hutch I’d bought at an estate sale and considered which place settings to use. This was a special occasion. Perhaps I should use Mama’s china. And then again, I didn’t want to have the girls feeling awkward by making a fuss. Perhaps the everyday dishes would be fine.

  “Can I help?” Pepper asked as she entered the room through the kitchen.

  “I’m trying to decide which dishes to use for our dinner.”

  “Does it matter?”

  “No,” I admitted. “I suppose it doesn’t.” I held up two dinner plates. “Which shall it be?”

  “The ivory with the small blue flowers.”

  “There are linens in that drawer behind you. Why don’t you pick out some p
lacemats and napkins and I’ll fetch the silverware.”

  Pepper chatted about the food at the last school she’d attended while we worked together to set a beautiful table for our first meal together. When the table was ready she followed me into the kitchen, where she continued to ramble on about various subjects while I prepared the vegetables. Pepper informed me that she too liked to cook, which she proved by preparing a colorful salad while I saw to the beverages. I found I rather liked preparing a meal alongside another person.

  “I really love your house,” Pepper complimented. “When Mr. Zimmerman pulled up to the front and I saw those blue shutters and all those beautiful flowers I knew I was going to be happy here.”

  “I’m so glad you like it. I’ve always liked to garden. Perhaps you’d like to help me when you have some free time.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Tell me about yourself,” I urged.

  “I’m not sure what there is to tell. My full name is Prudence Partridge Pepperton. It’s a mouthful, I know. When I was a baby my nanny began calling me Pepper and it stuck. My father is the only one who ever calls me Prudence.”

  “And your mom?” I asked.

  “She’s dead. She committed suicide last winter, after my father left her for one of his creations.”

  I frowned. “Creations?”

  “My father is a plastic surgeon in Beverly Hills.”

  “I see.” Pepper’s announcement didn’t quite fit with her airy tone of voice. At first I thought she was pulling my leg, but the tension around her eyes said otherwise.

  “I am so sorry,” I replied. “I really had no idea. That must have been an incredibly difficult time for you.”

  Pepper shrugged. “Yeah. I guess.”

  She looked away, struggling, I think, to maintain her composure.

  “And why did you decide to attend Zimmerman Academy?” I changed the subject.