by Lisa Carter
Ryan fingered his chin. “Anybody have an example of this solution thingy Evans mentioned?”
“Please...” Max Scott slumped in his chair. “Somebody? Anybody? The pizza’s getting cold.”
Everyone laughed. Izzie Clark raised her hand. “Like lemonade, Mr. Savage?”
He pretended to consider her suggestion. “That might work. Or would this do?” He whipped out a pitcher of cherry Kool-Aid from the supply closet. There were cheers.
“Finally...” Max moaned. “Somebody pass out the cups before he decides to go into the next unit.”
“Actually, there was one other example I thought of... A great example of a mixture. And something to enjoy watching while we eat.”
He plucked the towel off the small bowl on his desk. “A goldfish in a bowl.”
There were gasps and a buzz of excitement. He loved to see the joy of learning light their eyes.
He’d put off telling them that he wasn’t coming back after winter break. He was going to miss them. But he had to make his announcement soon. His chest tightened. The final days before winter break were ticking down.
And yet again, doubts clouded the goal he’d set for himself—to be in the lab come January. Was he doing the right thing in walking away from teaching? Walking away from his kids?
Walking away from Anna? He squared his shoulders. He couldn’t turn back the clock on either his job or Anna.
The fifth-grade classroom now belonged to the new guy in the process of moving to the Shore to take Ryan’s place. As for Anna?
She’d never belonged to him. The pressure inside his chest intensified. And she never would.
Everyone had settled down to inhaling lunch when a knock sounded on the door, and Principal Carden strode into the classroom. “Mr. Savage, I’m afraid I need your help with a situation.”
“Of course, sir.”
Mr. Carden motioned. “I’ve asked Mrs. Murphy to take over until you return.” The guidance counselor stepped inside the room.
Ryan glanced at the sea of faces, who never missed a trick. “I expect a good report when I return. Mrs. Murphy?” He picked a sheaf of papers off his desk. “My lesson plan for after lunch.”
Principal Carden gently closed the door behind them. “Sorry to disrupt your class, Ryan, but we had a situation erupt in the lunchroom a few minutes ago.”
“Sure. Okay. What’s up?”
But Mr. Carden walked past the cafeteria. “It’s Zander Benoit.”
Ryan slumped. “What did he do?”
“Apparently, there was an altercation in the lunchroom with another student. Zander decked the kid and laid him out on the floor.” Mr. Carden shook his head. “Then Zander took off.”
Ryan’s mouth thinned. “Where is he? Is he hurt?”
“He fled to the media center. And since you’ve developed a rapport with him...” Mr. Carden frowned. “Zander’s under one of the tables and refuses to come out.”
“I’ll talk to him, see if I can get him to de-escalate.”
“This is the final straw for him, Ryan. I hoped the after-school program would help us to avoid taking a more drastic step. But if he can’t get his anger and aggression under control, we’re going to have to remove him from the regular classroom.”
Ryan clenched his jaw. For Zander, placing him in a self-contained class for kids with emotional and behavioral problems would be the equivalent of writing him off. The kid had so much potential.
Mr. Carden stepped away as Anna hurried toward him.
“I’m so glad I caught you. The kindergarten aide took my class.” She panted for breath. “I wanted to make sure you knew. I saw everything in the cafeteria. It wasn’t Zander’s fault. The other kid started the fight.”
He scrubbed the back of his neck. “It doesn’t matter who started the fight. Zander shouldn’t have reacted the way he did.” Discouragement swirled in his gut. “I believed we were finally getting through to him.”
She touched Ryan’s arm. “I think you are getting through to him. I talked to Zander’s teacher. The other kid had been ragging Zander. He made sure everyone knew Zander’s mom was in prison.”
Ryan sighed.
She raised her chin. “The kid called Zander a stupid loser from a stupid family who weren’t smart enough to not get nabbed by the police.”
Ryan closed his eyes. “Poor little guy.”
“What will you say to him?”
Ryan opened his eyes. “I have no idea.”
Anna squeezed his hand. “I’m praying for you as you talk to him. For wisdom.”
He stared at her hand and gently pulled away. “Thanks. I need all the help I can get.” The no-touch policy wasn’t working as well as he’d hoped. But now was not the time to dwell on that.
Inside the media center, Ryan paused to pray for Zander and himself. That somehow God would give him the words he needed to get through to the third grader.
Since meeting Zander, he’d done some online research about children with behavioral issues. The experts advised caring, supportive adults to concentrate on building rapport. And when an incident erupted, to work with the child on identifying the problem or trigger. Easier said than done.
He found Zander underneath the table where they usually worked together on math. Careful to respect Zander’s personal space, he took a deep breath and crouched down. “Zan, my man.”
The child looked up, his black lashes spiky with tears. The fear, pain and rage in the eight-year-old’s gaze was like a punch in Ryan’s gut.
“I heard what happened.”
Zander’s face scrunched. “So they sent you to kick my butt out the door?” His eyes welled, and he studied the carpet.
“I totally get why you freaked, man. I wanted to do the same thing when my dad died. I was so angry. And mixed up. And sad.”
Zander scuffed the carpet with his shoe.
“I had to leave my girlfriend, my job and my apartment because my family needed me to come home and help. But now, I’m sorry for the way I acted.”
Zander didn’t say anything, but Ryan had his attention.
“Although it seemed horrible at the time, it brought me back to Kiptohanock. Where I had the chance to meet you. And I wouldn’t trade the last few years here at school for anything.”
Ryan blinked. He’d not expected that to come out of his mouth.
Zander’s eyes narrowed. “Fo’ real?”
“For real. But I get you being mad.” He extended his hands in front of him, inches apart. “So how angry do you really feel? This much?” He opened his arms wider. “Or this much?”
Zander shook his head and spread his arms as wide as the space allowed. “This much.”
Ryan gestured. “Mind if I join you?”
Zander made an elaborate shrug. “Knock yourself out, Mr. Savage.”
Getting on his knees, Ryan crawled inside and banged his head on the underside of the table. “Ow!”
Zander grinned.
“I live to amuse you kids.” Ryan gave him a sheepish grin. “Dudes like us, sometimes we get mad.”
Zander made a face. “’Cause people like Brandon are idiots.”
“Question is—when people say and do things that hurt us—how can we avoid going ballistic?” Ryan cocked his head. “And avoid suspension.”
Zander scowled. “I don’t know.”
Step Two—replacing inappropriate behavior with a better coping strategy. And Ryan suddenly remembered reading an article about energy therapy with troubled children.
“This is going to sound insane, man, but just do what I’m doing.” Ryan tapped the tip of his nose with his index finger in a steady rhythm. 1-2-3-4. 1-2-3-4.
Zander’s gaze went wide. “That’s stupid, Mr. Savage.”
&nb
sp; Ryan raised his eyebrow. “Stupid?”
Zander flushed. “Not stupid. Sorry.”
“Try it. Maybe not on your nose, but somewhere else on your body. Whatcha got to lose?”
Zander narrowed his eyes, but tapped his finger on his forehead. 1-2-3-4. 1-2-3-4.
Ryan decided to mix it up. He transferred the beat to his chest. And changed the rhythm.
Tongue rolling in his cheek, Zander matched him beat for beat. Ryan beat out a complex rhythm from one of his favorite jazz tunes.
Copying the rhythm, Zander laughed out loud. And head bobbing, he thrust out his skinny chest, switching the beat to a complicated hip-hop rap.
Ryan threw out his hands in surrender. “How much anger are you feeling now, Zan?”
Zander held his hands only a few inches apart.
Step Three—create an action plan. “So next time somebody mouths off, instead of whacking ’em...?” He held his breath.
Zander pursed his lips. “Do the tapping thing?”
Ryan pretended to consider it. “That’s workable. If you’re willing to do it instead of flipping out because you’re mad.”
Step Four—reinforce the commitment to the plan by letting the child own the behavior and the solution.
“Okay.”
Ryan smiled. “I’ll let your teacher and Principal Carden know about the plan you’ve made.”
Zander scooted out from underneath the table and waited for Ryan, whose older knee joints took longer to clear the table. Getting to his feet, he was surprised when Zander threw his arms around his waist.
“Thanks, Mr. Savage. You’re the smartest, best teacher in the whole world. It’s going to be the greatest year ever.”
His eyelids burned as he returned Zander’s hug. How would Zander react when he learned Ryan was leaving? The pressure inside his chest increased dramatically. Would Zander regress and act out again if Ryan wasn’t there to support him?
The struggle between fulfilling his career goals and the call of his heart nearly split Ryan in two.
Chapter Twelve
A few days later, Mr. Carden caught Anna on her way to the after-school program. “A moment, Mrs. Reyes?”
Teacher or not, a visit by the principal provoked anxiety. She racked her brain for anything she’d done to deserve a reprimand. One week before break, surely he hadn’t come to fire her?
She needed this job and the paycheck for every day remaining on her interim contract. As to what she’d be doing after Ruby was born? She sighed. One obstacle at a time. God would provide as He always had.
Mr. Carden’s expression softened. “Nothing to worry about, Mrs. Reyes. On the contrary. I think I have good news for you.”
Good news she could use.
He smiled. “I’ve received nothing but glowing reports regarding your performance here.”
“Thank you, Mr. Carden. I hope you will consider including that in my personnel file.”
“Of course, I’d be happy to provide any references you require, but I hope it won’t be necessary.”
She frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“Mrs. Thompson telephoned today.”
Her mouth went dry. Was Mrs. Thompson returning from maternity leave early?
“She’s decided to remain at home with her baby for the rest of the school year. And I’d like to offer you the teaching position on a semi-permanent basis.” He inclined his head. “After you finish your own maternity leave, of course.”
Anna stared, not sure she’d heard him correctly. “For the rest of the year?”
“I can’t promise the same kindergarten position next year, but I’m pretty confident I’ll have a position for you in the fall, too.”
Thank You, God.
She threw her arms around the slightly rotund principal. His eyes bulged as her belly bumped into him. She let go. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
But Mr. Carden smiled as he straightened his tie. “I am delighted we will have you on board.”
That night, she and Ryan decorated her Christmas tree with handmade ornaments her kindergarten class made for her. It was maybe the best Christmas tree ever. Even Ryan gave his grudging approval.
When she told him about her news, he congratulated her. But there was something in his eyes she couldn’t decipher. Regret?
“Everything’s working out for you.” He glanced around the trailer. “And I hope as soon as your budget allows, you’ll find a better place to live, closer to town.”
She threw him a grin, hoping to make him smile. “And aren’t you thrilled you won’t be around to haul the boxes?”
He didn’t smile. “There is that.”
Anna’s smile faded. What had she wanted him to say? But she knew. She wanted him to say that once he took the new job off-Shore, he’d miss her as much as she’d miss him.
She tried again. “I guess you’ve started packing.”
He shrugged. “I’ll get to it.” And adjusted one of the seashell ornaments on the tree.
“Aren’t you eager to shake the Kiptohanock sand off your feet for bigger and better things?”
He shrugged. “Kiptohanock has a lot to recommend it, too.”
She tilted her head. “Like me.”
He exhaled. “It will be hard to say goodbye to my students.” Still he didn’t look at her. “It’ll be hard to say goodbye to a lot of things.”
“Like what?”
Ryan fiddled with one of the tiny bows on a branch of the Christmas tree. “Zander. Maria. Oscar, of course...”
Her frustration mounted. What about missing her? But she wouldn’t put words in his mouth. Maybe he’d be relieved to get away from her projects.
“No more farm chores, though. Getting your own space back. From now on, you’ll have a real lunch hour. And—”
“Lunch duty isn’t so bad.”
“But,” she prodded, “you’ll be getting your old life back. Which is what you want, right?”
“How do you envision your future, Anna? Beyond diapers, I mean.”
This time, her gaze slid away from the penetrating look in his eyes. “Is there life beyond diapers?” She laughed.
He didn’t. Instead, he reached for his coat. “Only you can answer that question, Anna.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
His eyes bored into hers. “I think you do.” He raked his hand over his head. “Or maybe it’s already too late. Perhaps there are no second chances, Anna.” Pivoting, he walked out of the trailer.
Was that true? As he drove away, she sank into the armchair. Is that how Ryan viewed the future? Too late for a second chance. Did that include their relationship, too?
* * *
The next day the guidance counselor paged Ryan to her office. And he had a feeling Zander was somehow involved. He practically ran to the front office, expecting the worst.
He’d been spending a lot of time after school since the breakthrough last week with Zander. His grades had risen dramatically, and they’d made so much progress together. What had happened? Was this the straw that would mean suspension or an alternative classroom for Zander?
The counselor met Ryan at the door. Zander sat in one of the chairs. Tapping a beat on the wooden arm.
“One of the other kids called Zander names.” The counselor patted the child’s back. “But instead of punching him, Zander went to his teacher and started tapping.”
Never losing the beat, Zander whispered under his breath, “I am a good kid, and I deserve respect. I am a good kid, and I deserve respect.”
Ryan’s throat constricted. “You are a good kid, Zander.”
Zander stopped tapping and grinned. “I felt myself getting mad, but I remembered to tap, Mr. Savage. And I didn’t explode.”
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“I’m so proud of you, Zander.” He gripped Zander’s shoulder. “Keep up the good work.”
“You helped me, Mr. Savage. Thanks.” Zander’s face was alight with pride at controlling his temper.
Ryan’s chest tightened. He’d somehow managed to make a difference in Zander’s life, finding a way to stem the downward spiral.
More than anything, he dreaded telling Zander goodbye. Would Zander be okay? Would another adult step forward to fill the gap in Zander’s life?
Poking his head around the doorframe, Mr. Carden called Ryan into his office. The principal made him an offer he hadn’t expected. A chance to oversee the at-risk student program. A chance to stay with his kids. A chance to pursue a future with Anna.
If that’s what he wanted. Did he? Was he willing to put his heart out there again? Had he been wrong about second chances?
* * *
Saturday morning in the Pruitt kitchen, Anna placed the last of the cookies she’d made on the platter.
Evy handed her the green cellophane. “What are those called?”
She held the box while Evy rolled out a section of cellophane along the serrated edge. “Polvorones.”
Evy stretched the plastic wrap over the platter. “Say that three times fast.”
Anna laughed. “Otherwise known as Mexican wedding cookies. Mateo’s grandmother made these when we were restationed to Texas.”
Evy secured the wrap around the tray. “They look like yummy powdered sugar snowballs to me.”
Anna glanced out the kitchen window. “Maybe the closest to snow we’re likely to get this Christmas.”
Evy placed Anna’s platter in a large cardboard box to transport the goodies to the Duer inn.
Anna’s tummy rumbled. “Baby Reyes can’t wait to sample one of her Aunt Evy’s Chinese almond cookies.”
Evy fluttered her lashes. “Baby Reyes must take after her Uncle Charlie. I had to threaten him to keep his hands off, or I wouldn’t have enough for the cookie swap.”
“Poor Charlie. My brother has always loved cookies.”