Chapter Four: A Following Wind

A following wind is blows in the general direction of a vessel's course.

Parma, Florida August 16, High 91 F, Low 73 F, Barometric Pressure: 32 inHg. Fair, Clear.

I floated on my back in the warm water, the warmth of the sun caressing my body, and relished how completely relaxed I felt. Ah, this was the life. Today, I was convinced that moving to Parma was the best decision I ever made. The gentle waves of the gulf lapped the shore and the screeching of distant seagulls provided the reminder that I was actually here – in paradise.

Over the summer, I had arranged my days so I could start each one at the beach. I'd stuff some fruit, a granola bar, my heavily creamed and sugared coffee in a travel mug, a dog eared romance novel, my beach blanket, sunscreen (spf 1,000,000 for my hopelessly ghostlike complexion) in a beach bag. Then I'd pull on my bikini, cover that with my sarong, grab my keys and out of the door I'd go. It took me ten minutes on a lazy day to walk to the beach where I'd generally find it deserted.

The Parma beach was beautiful, and lovely, and marvelous and I enjoyed every blessed minute of my time there. It wasn't wide as some but it was edged with palm trees, so when the sun got to be too much, I could retreat into their shade.

After splashing around a bit, I decided it was time to get out and read before leaving to start the rest of my day. I stretched out on my blanket, propped up on my elbows and looked down the shore line. I could only see one other person besides myself here today. I was amazed to have this entire little Eden almost to myself.

I decided to slather on another coat of sunscreen. I squirted some lotion into my hands and started to reapply it to my legs. I looked back down the beach and could see the other person, a man, jogging towards me but he was still pretty far away. There was something about him that seemed familiar. I stared at him for a bit, then focused on rubbing the lotion onto my legs. When I looked back up I knew why the jogger looked familiar. He was close enough now I could clearly see his features. It was Edward.

My heart started pounding and I could feel a blush rise to my cheeks.

Did you ever see the movie "10?" Do you remember the scene where Dudley Moore's character- wearing a sweat suit, mind you- was day dreaming about Bo Derek's character running towards him on the beach with Ravel's Bolero -a musical theme used on the original Star Trek, by the way (Yes, I am that big of a dork) - swelling in the background the closer she got to him?

Well, that was me.

Rather, Dudley was me and Bo was Edward and I swear I could hear the French horns doing that farty thing in crescendos as I watched him run towards me down the beach.

Oh my God. He was a miracle. He was wearing only loose fitting athletic shorts and running shoes. I could hardly breathe as I ogled him. His long body was perfectly shaped and the sweat that glistened on his skin just invited me to lick it off, even if that was sort of gross when you thought about it. His damp hair was all over the place and when he saw me sitting there gaping at him, he smiled.

My insides felt like they turned to goo, along with any coherent thought I had. I was overwhelmed with desire for this man, thoroughly smitten with what must be lust. I know I looked like an idiot, freezing during mid-sunscreen application.

"Well, Miss Meteor, fancy meeting you here." He stopped in front of me, hands on his hips, his eyes steady on mine as if he couldn't bear to look at my near nakedness – my bikini was embarrassingly teeny. I wasn't used to having people around me at the beach, so I wore whatever came to hand. I quickly wrapped my sarong around me and stood up.

"Uhm. Well, I do come here in the morning most days. It's very peaceful." I started to gather my belongings, stuffing them into my bag.

"You're not leaving, are you?"

"I've been out here for a while. I don't usually stay for long because of my fish belly skin." I gestured down at my body which was partially covered by the sarong but my left leg was sticking out where the edges of the material hadn't met. I saw his eyes follow my gesture and surprisingly, his look was particularly intense when he looked back up at me.

He swallowed then commented, "Oh that's right. You told me you had some yard sales to get to."

"Yep. I have to get there early or else the pickers will beat me out on the good stuff."

He laughed, his hands on his hips and grinned, "Anything in particular you're looking for?"

"I thought of a dozen things I could use for my classroom yesterday and I still need some furniture for my place. It's hard to find anything decent that will also fit my budget."

"You know, I'm getting rid of a few things. My roommate just bought new living room furniture and we have no place for the old stuff. I'm sure, if you liked it, we could cut you a deal."

"Oh." I was hesitant because, from my experience, furniture in bachelor pads was subjected to disgusting and unspeakable crimes. I looked at him and my uncertainty must have shown.

"I promise it is decent stuff, Bella. I wouldn't suggest it if it wasn't. I don't live too far from here. It wouldn't hurt for you to just to come see it. No hard feelings if it isn't your style."

"Well, thank you, Edward," I smiled. "Once again you have helped me."

"Don't say that until you see what I'm trying to get rid of," he laughed.

"So, where is this living room suite you want to foist upon me?"

"Miss Meteor, I would never try to foist anything upon you. I can't say that I wouldn't stoop to enticing you a bit, but the choice will always entirely be up to you."

I laughed and cocked my head to the side. "Do you promise?"

That intense look was back, "Always."

It felt as though we were having two conversations here but I only understood one of them. So, I plowed on, "Where do you live?"

"Do you know where Calusa Towers is?"

"No. I'm afraid not."

"It's near Mulligan's."

I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head. "I haven't been out much since I moved here."

"That's completely understandable. I ran here, so if you don't mind giving me a ride, we can drive over to my place and you can see if anything will suit you?" Edward asked helpfully.

I thought about that for two seconds. "Sure."

I tried not to appear too eager so I tried to sound nonchalant as I said, "We will need to walk back to my place to get my truck and I would like to get cleaned up before we go, if that's alright with you."

I didn't want to scare him off. I know I probably couldn't be anything more than a friend to him. He was totally out of my league but at least we could have a congenial relationship.

Grinning, he took my bag, followed me off the beach and down the few blocks to Eleanor's place. Again, he did not let me walk behind him so I could sneak looks at his butt. Curses, foiled again.

When we got to my place, Eleanor was in the yard trying to arrange her newly bought flock of plastic pink flamingos to look more "natural" in their setting. She was pleased with the work I had done in the yard so far especially since it broadened her yard decoration horizons.

"Why Edward Cullen! It's a pleasure to see you again." Eleanor dropped flamingo #12 and rushed over to hug him. She lingered a little, stroking his abs. No fool was she.

"You bad boy, you haven't been 'round to see me in a while. How's that cute little girlfriend of yours?"

Okay. Yes. At that moment, I was living every literary cliché ever devised. Eleanor's statement felt exactly like a bucket of ice water dumped on my heart – or my girly bits. Yes, there was the awkward silence. Yes, you could actually have heard a pin drop. Yes, Edward's face lost all color. And yes, it seemed like time slowed down to a glacial pace.

Edward managed to choke out, "Oh, Mrs. Cope, er, uh…" He didn't finish his sentence but that was okay with Mrs. Cope. She continued as though he had answered her.

"She is such a pretty little thing. The way you two are together, I am sure you two are MFEO." She'd been watching Tom Hanks' movies lately. She put her movies on repeat and played them all day long. Yesterday, it was gunfire, explosions from Saving Private Ryan. Today, it must be Sleepless in Seattle. Tomorrow, I was probably going to hear "WILSON!" echoing throughout the yard over and over again.
Edward looked like he would rather be anywhere else than standing in Mrs. Cope's yard having this conversation. I decided to put him out of his misery.

"Edward knew I was looking for some furniture and he may have some for me. He's going to take me over to his place to look at it. See you later, Eleanor."

I smiled at Edward in commiseration as I let him into my front room. "Eleanor's a trip."

"She's always been."

"Here you go." I reached into my fridge and grabbed a bottle of water for him. "As you can see, the only places I have to offer you to sit are the chairs at the dining room table. Give me a few minutes to clean up and I'll be right with you."

I hurriedly showered off the salt water. I had planned to do my laundry this evening so the only decent thing I had to wear was a sundress. It certainly wasn't the best choice for moving furniture but it sure beat my threadbare blue jeans with the hole in the ass. I felt very conscious of Edward sitting out in the front room waiting for me. I couldn't even offer him the remote so he could watch TV while he waited as the television was in my bedroom.

The minute I had my sundress on, I opened the bedroom door a little. I figured we could chat as I ran a comb through my damp hair and pulled it up into a bun. After the sun, I knew I needed to moisturize my skin or I'd regret it later. I stood behind the door out of view from the room but still able to converse with the Adonis sitting in the other room.

"Edward, thank you so much for helping me."

"It's no problem, Miss Meteor." I could hear the teasing note in his voice.

I started rubbing the cream into my arms and shoulders.

"What do you teach, Edward?"

"Well, I am the English department chair. That should be a clue."

His voice sounded a little tight, as if he was stressed. That was puzzling. But his response caused me to indelicately snort and I shook my head as I lifted my leg to prop it on the bed and started massaging the moisturizer into it.

"I know that you teach English, Edward, but what subjects?"

"This year I'll teach Seniors. AP English*, Honors English IV, and English IV." He sounded distracted. Maybe there was something catching his attention in the other room.

"Have you ever taught English I or English III?" I lifted my other leg and propped it on a chair and started on it.

"Yes. I only taught freshmen my first two years at Parma and I had a few classes of Juniors last year." His voice was deeper.

"Do you think ninth graders are more or less difficult than the upper grades?" I had to admit I was a little worried about all the freshmen I was going to be teaching. I was applying moisturizer to my thigh now.

"They have their challenges just like any class."

Did he sort of groan at the end there? I looked up in surprise and happened to see Edward's reflection in my dresser mirror. I realized that he was watching me as I applied my moisturizer. I stared back into his eyes. He gaze was intense but that changed quite quickly to one of sheer embarrassment. He got up out of the chair and moved so that I could no longer see his reflection.

Now, if it had been any other guy ogling me while I was putting on lotion, I would have been creeped out. In this case, I was sort of turned on. Evidently, he liked the little show I unsuspectingly put on for him. I smiled. But then I realized I'd better get out there. The longer I waited, the more embarrassed he'd be.
I walked into the front room to find him staring out the big front window, his hands in his pockets.

"Ready to go?" I asked.

He swung around with a very pained look on his face. "Please accept my apology for …for…" he seemed to run out of words. That was pretty surprising for an English teacher.

"Edward, it's all right." I smiled. "I didn't mean to put on a show."

"I didn't mean to be a voyeur."

"Then it was an accident all around. No worries."

"Thank you. You are very gracious." He held open the door for me and smiled.

Gulp. He really did things to me. How can this be possible? I climbed into the cab of my truck and unlocked the passenger door.

"I am surprised you drive a truck," he said as he got in.

I chuckled, "My father, who is a cop, prefers to know that I am in one of the bigger vehicles on the road. All I've ever had were trucks. Well, that sounds like I have owned a dozen but, really, this is only the second one. My old truck could have passed for a tank."

Edward laughed, "A tank? I can't imagine."

"Yes. It had been rebuilt but originally it was new in 1953."

"No kidding? That must have been something to see."

"And hear. It was loud and slow. You could never have used it for a getaway car. My dad loved knowing that was my mode of transportation. It was safe on many counts as far as a protective father was concerned." I had to laugh. I started the truck and pulled out onto the street.

"Turn right at the next intersection and then right again when you get to route forty-one." I did as he directed.

"So, how was your truck safe as far as your dad was concerned?"

"Well, it was a tank, so I'd win in a crash. It was slow, so I had to drive like an old lady. It was loud, so I couldn't sneak off in the night or home in the morning. And it definitely wasn't a guy magnet."

"A guy magnet?"

"My truck was not at all sexy. Most guys were horrified when they saw that old rust bucket."

"Most guys wouldn't care about the truck as much as who was driving it."

I coughed and blushed. He caught me off guard once again. "Er, well not that I ever noticed."

He turned to me a bit, a cute little smile curving his lips. "Miss Meteor, I bet you broke hearts right and left."

Blushing, I responded, "Not exactly. I was usually so bundled up, no one could ever get a good look at me. Plus, the fact that Forks is a small town and my father was the Chief of Police there – the boys were scared off, I think. Anyway, the perpetual blue of my skin tone from always being so cold was definitely unattractive. "

"And that's why you moved here?"

"Yes. Well, it was one of the reasons. I was also offered a job here. How did you end up in Parma?" I turned onto Route Forty-One.

He chuckled and responded, "Have you ever been in Chicago during the winter?"

"No."

"I bet Washington State would seem balmy in comparison."

"So you escaped the winter, too."

"In a way. My college roommate was from Parma. He invited me down here for spring break one year. It was love at first sight. I knew instantly I wanted to live here. I was really lucky it worked out."

"How long have you taught at Parma?"

"Five years. I've been department head for a year."

"You're sort of young for that, aren't you?"

He snorted and said, "No one wants to be department head, honestly. It's not worth the trouble."

"Really?"

Nodding, he said, "There's a lot of paperwork and meetings to attend. And there's really no authority associated with the job, just responsibility. I have to collect lesson plans from all the English teachers but if I notice something that needed adjustment, I have no clout to see that it is changed. I do get a stipend but it's not much at all for all the headaches involved."

"Then why do it?"

"It was my turn, I guess. Left up here." He indicated a street I'd never been down. Shortly, we arrived in front of a three story apartment building.

"These are towers?"

"In Parma, they are. There's a building code that prohibits any building taller than forty feet."

I pulled into a parking space and we hopped out of the truck. Edward led me up stairs to the second floor and unlocked one of the doors that shared the landing. Ushering me inside his apartment, he called out, "Rosalie? Are you home?"

"Yep, I'll be right out," a dulcet voice called from the hallway that must have led back to the bedroom.
Suddenly, the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen in my life - and that included Bo Derek- walked into the living room.

Edward grinned at her and said to me, "Bella, I'd like you to meet another Parma teacher, Rosalie Hale."

AN
"10" was a fun movie about a horny older man who perved on this sweet young thing. Fortunately for him, she perved right back at him. Yep. This was also a fantasy and upon reflection, it sounds a lot like Twilight. (Just kidding, just kidding.)

AP English… the AP stands for Advanced Placement. In May of every year, students take a national cumulative test if they are enrolled in AP courses (there's AP English, Calculus, Biology, World History, etc). If they score high enough, they will earn college credits and not have to take that subject once they get to post- secondary school, maybe. It's actually a brilliant money making scheme on behalf of the testing authority. They charge about $90 per exam and have convinced most colleges to accept a passing grade. In our school district, the school pays the fee. All the testing company did was develop a test that covers all the standards for a course, grade it and disseminate the grades.

Thanks to my beta, Kris. She is very good at the hand holding.

Questions asked:

No, I am not an English teacher. My lack of comma-fu should have been a clue.

Parma doesn't exist outside of my mind, sorta. Actually, it's an idealized version of my home town.

The school operations are going to seem impossibly wonderful – too good to be true. Believe me, sweethearts, they are.