How Could She Say No?, Part 2 | |
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------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 2. A Friend in Need is .... It was Tuesday morning. The day after Memorial Day. Almost seven thirty. Patti waited for Megan to get ready so she could drive her to the orthodontist. Mark was gone, having left at seven. The orthodontist opened at eight. Patti wanted to get there as soon as the office opened. It was a twenty minutes drive. Patti picked up the coffee pot and filled her cup one last time. She always took a cup in the car while driving to school. Patti took a sip. It tasted so good. She loved her morning coffee. "Hurry up, Megan," she yelled. "We're going to be late." Dr. Briggs would see Megan first thing and fix the wires without an appointment. Patti was sure of it. They'd done this before. And since Megan attended the same middle school where Patti taught, they'd be at school by 8:45 if all went well, fifteen minutes early. Plenty of time to spare. But Megan still wasn't downstairs. Impatient, Patti opened the garage door and got in the car. She turned the ignition on her Toyota Camry. No response. "Oh no," Patti muttered. The battery was dead. She tried again. There was nothing. "Oh God, why did it happen this morning?" She looked at her watch. Suddenly Megan appeared in the garage. "What's wrong, Patti?" she asked. "The car is dead," Patti answered. "Your dad's already gone. The jumper cables are in his car. God, what are we going to do? If we wait for a cab or AAA, I'm going to miss my first class." "Why not try calling one of the neighbors?" Megan suggested. "We met lots of people yesterday. What about the Jordans? They're really nice." Patti frowned. She didn't want to call Trish. She didn't want to deal with the smell of cigarette smoke this early in the day. "I'll try Jan Stevens first," she countered. Jan seemed neighborly, Patti reasoned.. And if Jan can't do it, I'll call Paula Jones. Neither of them smoked. That seemed important. She found the neighborhood phone list distributed at yesterday's party. "Hello, Jan, this is Patti Rogers next door," Patti said after dialing the number. "Listen, my car battery died over the weekend. . . . Yeah, I need a favor. Look do you have jumper cables? . . . Oh, you don't? Well, we need a ride to Megan's orthodontist. He opens at eight. I hate to ask, but we could really use some help. Could you give us a ride?" There was no response for several seconds. "Oh, Patti, I'm sorry," Jan finally answered. "I've got some women from my church coming over this morning. I still need to get ready. I don't think I'll be able to help. Did you try Paula?" Patti muttered to herself as she hung up. She sipped her coffee and looked at her watch. It was 7:40. Quickly she dialed Paula Jones' number. Paula is a stay at home mom. She doesn't work. She should be able to help. "Sorry," Paula replied after Patti explained her predicament. "I don't have jumper cables. Brad might, but he's gone already. And I'm right in the middle of my morning exercise routine. I'm sweating like a pig." Patti heard Paula laughing nervously. "I don't think I could ready in time to get you and Megan to the orthodontist by eight. But maybe you could call a cab." Patti hung up. Justified or not, she was furious. Certainly we don't want to inconvenience anyone, do we? she grumbled to herself with mock sincerity. Selfish bitches! She had one more idea. Nancy Draper down the street. Patti dialed the number and waited. No one picked up. The answering machine began its message. Patti hung up. "Okay, Megan," she sighed. "Let's try the Jordans." Trish picked up the phone as soon as it rang. Patti explained the problem. Not surprisingly, Trish had no jumper cables. Sheepishly Patti asked for a ride. To her surprise Trish seemed happy to help. "No problem. Tell you what," Trish suggested. "I can drive you. Or what about this? Why don't you just keep my car today? You can drop me off downtown and keep it all day. As long as you pick me up around five thirty. I don't want to ride the bus home." Trish's voice was cheery. She didn't seem the least bit put out by Patti's request. "That's really kind," Patti admitted. "I appreciate it very much, Trish. Thank you. Okay, we'll be right over." Quickly Patti and Megan walked down the street to the Jordans. Trish was sitting in the driveway. The engine of her red, late model Chevy Cavalier was already running. Patti sighed. She saw Trish had a freshly lit cigarette in one hand and a coffee cup in the other. "Get it, guys," Trish greeted them happily. "It only takes about fifteen minutes to get to my office downtown. You'll be at the orthodontist's by 8:15." "Thanks, Mrs. Jordan," Megan replied. "You're great. How's Heather this morning?" "She's just fine," Trish answered, her cigarette in her mouth. "Heather takes the bus to school. She's gone already. Fasten your seat belts." Patti sat beside Trish in the front seat while Megan climbed in the back. The car reeked of smoke. The driver's ashtray was full of butts and ashes. Trish's blue cigarette case sat open on the console between them. Patti sighed. Beggars can't be choosers, she decided. True to her word Trish had them downtown in fifteen minutes. She drove quickly through the traffic drinking coffee, talking and smoking throughout the trip. Trish's window was cracked open, but Patti wished she'd open it all the way. Or open both windows. Anything to fill the car with clean air! But she knew it was impolite to ask. After all, Trish was doing her a huge favor. She'd open all the windows as soon as Trish got out. Trish pulled up in front of her building. In her hand she held her third consecutive cigarette. "Sorry about all the smoke," she smiled as she hopped out on the curb. "Unfortunately I can't smoke in my office anymore," she explained. "This is the only time I chain smoke like this. But I need my morning nicotine. Otherwise, I'm awfully grumpy." Trish smiled that big grin again. "See you at five thirty, Patti. I'll be right here outside the office door." Trish took a drag on her cigarette. "And don't worry if you're late. I'll just smoke an after-work cigarette while I'm waiting." Trish ran to the door of the office building. Patti buckled herself into the drivers seat while Megan moved into the front passenger seat. "God," Patti exclaimed. "Wow, does that woman smoke or what?" "She smokes," laughed Megan. "Just like my mom used to smoke before she quit." "Doesn't it drive you crazy?" Patti said rhetorically as she pulled into traffic. "No, I don't mind it too much," Megan admitted. "The smell reminds me of the good old days before my mom decided to quit smoking and she and my dad split up. Mom used to smoke all the time. She was happier then," Megan sighed. Not going to touch that one, Patti decided. Within minutes she was on the freeway. The visit to the orthodontist was uneventful. As Patti hoped, the doctor quickly fixed Megan's braces without an appointment. They arrived at school at five minutes after nine o'clock. Although classes began at nine, Patti felt this constituted a moral victory. Between morning classes Patti sat in the teachers' lounge. As usual she was drinking coffee. Deep in thought, Patti absent-mindedly played with her blond hair, running it through her fingers. Randy Wisdom, the principal, walked into the lounge. He stopped and stared. "Can I see you in my office, Patti? Now?" he asked. Patti sighed as Randy left the lounge. She suspected she knew what was coming. She stood up and left her coffee cup in the lounge. Randy didn't like it when people carried drinks into his office. He was afraid someone would spill something. And he didn't like messes. Patti walked down the hall until she arrived at the main offices. Slowly Patti entered Randy's office. "Shut the door, Patti," he asked as soon as she entered. Randy was tall, in his early fifties, with very little hair. A career school administrator, he'd been hired at the beginning of the current school year to help increase private funding and student enrollment. Randy had a clear financial focus. He was not known as an advocate of teachers' interests. "Patti, you were late this morning," Randy began. "What was the problem?" "Megan's braces broke last night," Patti squirmed. She hated this. "I had to take her to the orthodontist to get them fixed. It was sort of an emergency. I'm sorry. But I was only a few minutes late." She stopped and looked at Randy's face. He was not sympathetic. "I see," Randy replied. He did not sound convinced. "Another thing," he went on. "You reek of cigarette smoke. I can still smell it on your clothes. What's going on?" Patti sighed. It was true. She did smell of smoke. "Well, my car broke down this morning," she said apologetically. "My neighbor let us take her car after dropping her off at her office. She smokes," Patti added. "She smoked all the way to work. But I couldn't very well ask her not to smoke when she was doing me a favor." "Uh huh," answered Randy. "Well, let's be clear about this. When you're going to be late, Patti, call the office and let us know." "Wait a minute," interrupted Patti. She began to get angry. "I did try to call. Just before 8:30 while Megan was in the chair. But no one picked up. I thought I'd be able to make it by nine. And I almost did." "That's not the point," Randy replied sternly. "We need to know if our teachers are going to be late. It would have been better if you'd have waited until after 8:30 and called back. No one was in your first period classroom at nine." Patti looked down at her shoes. He was right and she knew it. "And about the smoke," he went on. "I can't have you teaching in this building in clothes that stink of cigarette smoke. It doesn't matter why your clothes smell. The students don't ask whether there's an excuse. They smell smoke and assume you're smoking. This is a no drug, no alcohol, no tobacco environment. I expect teachers to be examples for our students." He leaned forward for emphasis. "Smokers are detestable, Patti. We're trying to communicate that to our students. So don't come to school again smelling like smoke. I won't stand for it. If that means you have to shun your smoking friends, well, that's part of the job." "Yes sir," Patti replied meekly. There was no point in arguing further. Randy was a strong proponent of the D.A.R.E. program's anti-smoking emphasis. She'd always admired that position before. But this time it seemed unfair. Unfair to her and unfair to Trish. But whenever Randy made up his mind, there was no talking him out of it. Patti returned to the lounge where she retrieved her coffee cup. Smokers are detestable, huh? Trish didn't seem detestable to Patti. In fact she was more willing to help Patti out in a pinch. Even when it was inconvenient. Neither Jan Stevens nor Paula Jones would do it. The fact that they were non-smokers didn't make them saints. Either of them could have taken the time to help Patti. But they didn't. As far as I'm concerned, Patti decided, Trish is the only saint in the neighborhood. Smoker or not. At five thirty Patti pulled up in front of Trish's office building. It was raining. It was difficult to see. Patti looked, but Trish was nowhere in sight. Because of rush hour traffic, Patti was unable to park or stop. She drove around the block. As she approached after circling she saw Trish sprint out the front door in the rain. Patti stopped the car, leaned over and opened the passenger door. "Sorry I'm late," Trish gasped as she jumped in. "I had to finish a proposal before I could leave." She closed the door and buckled her seat belt. She took a deep breath. "Wow," she sighed, obviously trying to relax. Without thinking Trish opened her purse and removed her cigarette case. Suddenly she stopped and looked at Patti. "Oh God! I hate to ask, Patti, but would you mind terribly if I had a cigarette in the car on the way home? I haven't had one since three this afternoon." Trish smiled sweetly. "That was over two hours ago. And I'm dyin'." Patti smiled as she pulled into traffic. "Trish, this is your car," she answered simply. "You can smoke in your own car if you want to. Go ahead." Trish pointed at the wet window. "But it's raining, Patti," she objected. " I can't open the window. It'll get really smoky in here really quick. No, it's okay. I'll just wait until I get home. I'll be fine." Despite her sincerity, Trish didn't sound convinced. Patti thought for a moment. God, Trish's right, she realized. If she smokes with the windows closed it will be much worse than it was this morning. But, hey, Patti decided. Trish did me a favor today. And she's trying to be considerate. I appreciate that. Who am I to tell her she has to suffer? "No, it's all right, Trish," Patti said with determination. "It's still your car. Go ahead and have a cigarette if you want. It won't kill me." Trish flashed her big grin. She opened her case, removed a cigarette and lit up. "Patti, you are one great person," she said as she inhaled, putting the cigarette case down on the seat beside her. "Most non-smokers wouldn't be this considerate. I know you can't really understand, but I really need this, and I appreciate it a lot!" Despite the rain, Trish opened her window an inch. She exhaled toward the crack. Even so, the car quickly filled with smoke. "God, that's better," Trish sighed. "I love smoking, but I have to admit I'm a slave to these cigarettes. That's damn inconvenient sometimes." Trish took a second big drag. Patti watched with interest the way she sucked the smoke deep into her lungs. "It's okay, Trish," she said. "I'm in your space. You can smoke all the way home if you want to." Trish exhaled toward the cracked car window. Trish was visibly calmer after taking two consecutive drags on her cigarette. "Patti," Trish sighed. "I think you're a saint. Thank you." Patti smiled. The smoke was getting dense. But not as dense as the sense of growing friendship. "No, Trish," she replied earnestly. "You're the one who's the saint today." |
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