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As the two women continue to whisper, I read through the list of pupils in my class, hoping to familiarize myself with their names, even if their faces are still a mystery to me.
One of them stands out in particular. It’s Addison Hanson, and I smile, recalling the conversation I had with the principal on the second day of the workshop last week.
Miss Montgomery took me to one side while the others were all having lunch and explained that Hanson isn’t really Addison’s last name.
“Oh?” I said, surprised that she’d volunteered the information.
“Her real name is Bradshaw,” she said, with an air of disapproval, which she carried well. While pleasant enough, I’ve already learned that Miss Montgomery has her standards, and likes them to be maintained at all times. It’s obvious from the manner in which she dresses, the immaculate styling of her hair, and the way she looks at people over the top of her half-moon glasses.
At the time, I wasn’t sure about the reason for the change in her tone, and to be honest, as far as I was concerned, ‘Hanson’ was Addison’s name. Being given another was only likely to confuse me, and didn’t seem at all helpful.
“Her father died at the beginning of the year,” she continued, filling the silence I’d left. “He was involved in a terrible car accident.”
I guessed that made a little more sense. If Addison was likely to be upset by her father’s death, then it was important I should understand, and be able to help her.
“I see. Have there been problems?”
“Not with Addison, no,” she said, shaking her head. “She’s obviously new to the school, but as far as I’m aware, she’s adapted very well.”
“So is Hanson her mother’s maiden name?” I asked, trying to make sense of things.
“No. It’s the sheriff’s name.”
I took a half step back, unable to help myself. “The sheriff?”
“Yes,” she said, and moved a little closer so she could lower her voice. “He and Addison’s mother are engaged to be married.”
That surprised me, given that Addison’s father had only died quite recently, and I guess my response must have been obvious to Miss Montgomery, who folded her arms across her meager chest.
“As long as Addison’s okay with it,” I said, because it was the only thing that came into my mind.
“She seems to be. Sheriff Hanson and Mrs. Bradshaw came to see me a few weeks ago and explained that the sheriff is in the process of adopting Addison. The papers haven’t come through yet, but they wanted to ask if she could be known here by her new name, not her old one, to avoid any confusion.”
“That’s understandable,” I said, nodding my head, although I stopped when Miss Montgomery shook hers.
“Maybe it is to someone of your age. Personally, I thought it was highly irregular.”
“But you agreed?”
“I did… for Addison’s sake. I could see the upheaval it would cause for her to have her name changed halfway through the semester, so it made more sense to go along with their wishes.”
Her attitude may have sounded like something out of the last century – or the one before that – but I was pleased she was putting the child’s needs ahead of her own prejudices, and I smiled, which seemed to confuse her enough that she walked away and left me to my own devices.
In a way, I was pleased to have been kept informed, but it makes no difference to me what Addison Hanson is called. After all, I didn’t know Addison’s father, and as long as his daughter is happy, she can be called whatever she likes.
Chapter Four
Tanner
Between discovering that Sabrina has moved her boyfriend into her house and knocking that beautiful woman to the floor, I wasn’t exactly feeling myself by the time I got home.
I made it to Dawson’s… but that’s where I made my next mistake.
It might be convenient to have a best friend who owns a bar – especially one that’s right next door – but the downside is that, from time to time, I drink too much.
And right from the moment I walked in the door, I knew it was going to be one of those times.
Whether that was because of Sabrina, or that beautiful woman, I wouldn’t like to say, but I let Dawson believe my ex-wife was entirely responsible. I decided to keep quiet about the woman I met last night… although ‘met’ might be overstating it, considering I don’t know a single thing about her. Somehow, while I was falling over my own tongue, I forgot to take her number, or her address… or even ask her name.
