by Emma Woods
I grinned at her. She was so cute and took herself so seriously. This was why I loved working with kids.
“I was nervous,” Sophie said. “The only person I knew in our class was Miss Kent. I didn’t know if I’d make any friends.”
“Hey, I’m your friend,” announced Tabitha. “You can check that off your to-do list.”
The little boy next to me joined the conversation. “There’s a joke on my milk carton. Do you want to hear it, Miss Kent?”
I told him I did, and we all groaned at the silly cow pun he read haltingly. Several students nearby joined in, and we had some not-very-funny joke telling that cracked up most of the kids. A boy named Devon started making up his own knock-knock jokes but didn’t seem to understand how they worked. The other students thought they were hilarious, but I noticed the signs that we were headed into the too-silly zone and had to remind the kids to finish their lunches.
We were scheduled for recess next. The students ran and climbed as though their lives depended on it out on the playground. I stood with Kelly, the fourth-grade teacher, who asked how my day was going. I hadn’t known her too well the year before and found that she was really fun. She had the best gap-toothed grin and a very kind way of speaking to her students that I found inspiring.
The afternoon was filled with more team-building games. I read a chapter from “Charlotte’s Web” while the students colored a simple math worksheet. Almost before I realized it, it was time to pack up. We began going through our packing-up procedures. The students did better than I’d expected, and I found that we were ready to go a full ten minutes before the bell would ring.
I tried not to panic as the kids on the carpet began to get silly and wiggly. How would we fill ten more minutes?
“Who wants to tell me about the best part of your day?” I asked.
Twenty-three hands shot up in the air. Dumb question, apparently.
“I am only going to call on students who are sitting the right way and are patiently waiting. Oh, and quietly waiting,” I amended.
There was a general buzz until the kids were able to sit down, legs crossed, as we’d practiced that morning. Finally, there were a few students who had followed my directions.
“Devon?” I called.
“My favorite thing from today was telling jokes at lunch and the pizza at lunch and recess and coloring. My least favorite thing is that you didn’t give us homework.”
My eyebrows shot up at that, but the other kids nodded around him. “Did you expect to get homework on your first day of second grade?” I asked with a smile.
Tabitha raised her hand and waited for me to call on her. “I heard that second grade is a lot harder than first grade. Like, you get actual homework and stuff.” She looked over the rest of the class, and they looked impressed.
“Well, tonight your homework is to rest up for tomorrow,” I said. “Let’s celebrate having such a good first day by having a break. We’ll get to homework later.” Though I wasn’t big on homework for little kids, so they probably wouldn’t get too much anyway. While a few kids looked disappointed, most seemed to think this answer was a good one.
When the bell rang, the bus riders lined up and filed out of the room along with Lisa and her students. Her car riders came to my room. We lined up and headed to the pickup area. It was fun watching all those tired kids in their new haircuts and still-white shoes. The big fifth graders stood around trying to look cool, while the preschoolers were limp and overwhelmed.
One by one, the students’ parents arrived, and they trotted off to their parents’ cars. Tom hadn’t arrived, so I pulled my phone from my pocket and checked my text messages.
I noticed that Marco hadn’t responded to the message I’d sent him earlier about it being my first day. I rolled my eyes at that.
Tom had texted to say that he was dealing with a situation and would get to school as soon as he could.
“Okay, Sophie,” I said, “it looks like your dad is stuck at work. Let’s go back to the room.”
“Sure,” the little girl said with a crooked smile.
Without thinking, I stuck out my hand and she took it, fairly skipping alongside me as we went back in the building and over to our classroom. I marveled at how special it was to have a little person trust me so much. Maybe it was the long day full of emotions, but I felt myself choking up a bit.
“I can help you get ready for tomorrow,” Sophie offered when we reached the room. “Do you need me to do anything?”
I thought that over, tapping my lips. “You know, I could use a hand. Would you mind starting by picking up any pencils that you see on the floor? We don’t want those swept up when they are perfectly good.”
Sophie was game. She put her backpack on her desk and began crawling around, looking for abandoned pencils. Every once in a while, I would hear her say, “You are perfectly good. You should not go in the trash.” I had to turn around and hide my smile each time she said it, so she wouldn’t think I was laughing at her.
From there, we laid out the next day’s morning work, straightened the books and beanbags in the reading nook, added stickers to a tally chart, wrote Tuesday’s schedule on the board, and did half a dozen other little chores. When Tom still hadn’t arrived after a half-hour, I sat down at the reading table.
“I’m starved. Would you like to share some of my snack?” I offered.
“Okay,” the little girl beamed.
“I hope you like pretzels and grapes.”
“I love them,” she said. “Do you want me to get some paper towels?”
I told her it would be a good idea and smiled as she went off to complete her task. Really, she was so cute, it was ridiculous. We split my bag of grapes and the package of pretzels.
“I’m going to eat a pretzel first, and then a grape, so I don’t get thirsty,” Sophie announced.
“We could go to the water fountain if we need to,” I told her.
She nodded seriously. “Yeah, but if I don’t have to, I’d rather stay here with you.”
I was touched. It was funny how glad I was to have a seven-year-old for a friend. I’d been prepared to be cool and distant, but these little kiddos were worming their way into my heart faster than I’d thought possible.
“I wanted to ask you earlier, are you wearing a new outfit?” I inquired.
Sophie looked down. “Yep. Everything I’m wearing is new. New shoes, new socks, even new underwear!”
We smiled at each other. “Isn’t new underwear fun?” I asked. “It’s one of my favorite things about being a girl. We have such pretty underwear.”
“I know. My dad’s underwear is so boring.” Sophie rolled her eyes.
I cleared my throat, suddenly uncomfortable with the topic. “Is your necklace new?” I changed the subject.
Her little fingers went to the heart-shaped locket. “No. I’ve had it a really long time. My mom gave it to me when I was practically a baby.”
I nodded, understanding suddenly how important that made it. If my mom had given me a piece of jewelry before she left, I would have treasured it, too.
“It’s the only thing of hers I have left,” Sophie said sadly.
“You know, my mom left when I was little, too,” I told her gently. “It’s really hard, isn’t it?”
She nodded, and then cocked her head. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone else whose mom did that. It feels like all the other kids have a mom still.”
“I remember feeling that way, too. But you’re not the only one, believe me. There are lots of us, and we all need to stick together.”
Sophie’s eyes lit up. “Like a club!”
I laughed. “Sure. Like a club.”
Sophie’s attention was drawn by movement at the door, and she waved. “Hi, Dad. Miss Kent and I are having a snack.”
I looked over, and my smile froze on my mouth.
Tom was standing, leaning against the door frame as though he’d been there for some time. His dark eyes were i
ntent and very warm as he looked at the two of us. Any worry that he might be upset at our discussion evaporated the moment I saw how he was watching me. His gaze was so intense that I felt like I’d caught him in the act of doing something extremely private. Why would he look at me like that?
I stammered something, and it didn’t take long for Sophie to collect her bag and wave on her way out the door. Tom said little more than to thank me and apologize for being late.
Once they were gone, I sat back down, my heart pounding. Did Tom Jerrett have feelings for me? He was looking at me so intensely, I had little doubt that he was feeling… something big. What was I supposed to do about that?
6
The rest of the first week of school went well. I threw myself into lesson planning, grading, and being the best teacher I knew how to be. And I tried not to think about the way Tom had looked at me. He was able to pick Sophie up on time all that week, and so I didn’t get much more than a friendly smile and a wave from him when he drove through the parent pick-up line.
While I was relieved that I didn’t have to actually address the situation, I was secretly a tad disappointed not to see him again. Tom was very kind to Sophie and, really, everyone I saw him interact with. Being around him was sort of like stepping into a warm beam of sunlight on a cloudy day. Probably, he’d just been overwhelmed hearing his daughter speak so candidly about her mom to her new teacher. Nothing more. I assured myself that I appreciated him as a parent of one of my students and as a potential friend, and that was all there was to it. Most of the time, I believed myself.
During the second week of school, letters were sent home about our after-school program. Students began to sign up for the various clubs. The horseback riding club required some additional paperwork, as well as a small fee. My co-sponsor turned out to be Kelly Joyce, the fourth-grade teacher. We agreed that it was a good thing there was a required fee, since it kept us from having too many kids in the club. Everyone was excited about it, and we had limited space.
Both Kelly and I were relieved to end up with a roster that contained fifteen students. The after-school program began during the third week of school. We were scheduled to have horseback training at the school on Tuesdays. On Wednesdays and Thursdays, we traveled to the ranch and the students got to ride horses.
We’d decided to use my classroom. I was especially glad of that on that first day of the program, because I’d asked Rosemarie to come and be our expert. I was excited to show her my room.
“Wow, it’s so cute!” she exclaimed when she first entered. “I love how you’ve decorated everything.”
I quivered with excitement. “I know! I did an Under the Sea theme and I think it’s a lot of fun. We’re reading books about different kinds of sea life right now, and it totally ties in to the theme.”
Kelly arrived with the students behind her. I had to turn my attention to helping the fifteen kids find places for their backpacks and jackets. Once they were seated, I introduced Rosemarie to the group. I was very pleased that Sophie had chosen to be in our club. She sat at a desk in the front row and twinkled up at us.
Rosemarie began by asking how many of the students had ridden horses before, which turned out to be a good decision. Most of the kids had some experience, though there were three who had never been anywhere near a horse. That was fine, she assured them, but Kelly and I knew we’d need to keep an eye on those three in particular.
From there, our guest speaker talked about how to be safe around horses. She explained that they couldn’t see behind themselves, so staying away from their back hooves was important. Rosemarie had brought a bridle along and demonstrated how to hold the reins. All the students got to try. Finally, she stressed the importance of wearing long pants and closed-toe shoes the following day.
Everyone was looking forward to Wednesday’s first day at the ranch, which came around quickly.
Kelly and I both decided to bring a change of clothes to school that day, so we’d be ready for anything. The students chattered excitedly on the bus ride over.
“I hope everything goes well,” I said to Kelly.
She gave me a reassuring smile. “Triple Star does a lot of field trips for the surrounding schools. They are always ready to handle whatever we bring them.”
“One of my housemates, Emily, works with their Just Horsing Around program for kids with special needs. She always has great things to say about the program and the ranch.”
And true to form, there was a ranch representative on hand to help us all into a barn near the parking lot. We sat on raised benches, and Tom Jerrett led a gentle palomino into the barn just a few minutes later.
“Daddy!” squeaked Sophie, who was sitting beside me. She vibrated with excitement.
Tom’s brown eyes crinkled in her direction. He looked taller here in his work environment. His bald head and thick, dark beard were the same, but he sported a faded work shirt, dusty jeans, and boots that had paid their dues. He handled the horse confidently, yet gently.
I was impressed, yet again, when he talked to the group of children. Everyone listened intently as he talked about how to help the horses not to be frightened when we got near them. The palomino, who was named Fireworks, seemed as though nothing could rile her up, but Tom assured us that all horses could get skittish.
“That’s why you’ll be wearing helmets when you ride,” he explained.
Once he finished his talk, we all trooped out to a paddock where half of the kids were lifted up onto horseback and walked around the fence line. The other kids watched, some anxious and some excited. Then it was time to switch places.
I stayed back with the kids who had finished their turn while Kelly mounted up and rode the extra horse. She gave me a nervous thumbs-up, and I laughed. The kids all clapped for her, and she pretended to be afraid of falling. All the anxious kids who were now up on horseback grinned and seemed a little braver.
The other kids sat and picked flowers, talking in little groups. I was leaning against the fence, snapping pictures of them with my phone, when Tom loped over.
“How’s it going?” he called.
I grinned at him, determined to not be weird. “Good. I think everyone’s having fun.”
“You didn’t get a turn,” he pointed out.
“Not this time. But that’s okay. Maybe tomorrow.” I was mildly embarrassed to admit that I wasn’t upset about that, since I’d purposely worn my cutest jeans and a very flattering top today. Whether or not I’d chosen this outfit for the man standing next to me was not a topic I wanted to examine too closely.
Sophie rode past and waved at him. “Look at me, Dad!”
“Looking good, Soph!” Tom called back. “Keep your heels down.”
“What movie did you two watch last week?” I asked, remembering our conversation outside the grocery store.
“’Charlotte’s Web,’” he replied.
My eyebrows rose. “Was it your week to pick?”
“Believe it or not, it was Sophie’s turn. She said you were reading the book to the class. I told her that watching the movie might spoil the ending, but she promised she’d act surprised. She even showed me all her surprised faces before we were allowed to start.”
Laughter erupted from my mouth. That girl was too funny!
“What are you going to pick this week?” I asked when I was able to speak again.
Tom leaned his forearms against the fence and contemplated. “Do you think ‘Old Yeller’ would be too depressing?”
“Uh, yeah. Way too depressing. Don’t traumatize her with that one.”
“So ‘Bambi’s probably off the list, too,” he teased. Silence lapsed. Then Tom asked, “Do you have big plans this weekend?”
I told myself sternly that he was only asking to keep the conversation going. That question didn’t mean anything.
“Actually, I do. One of my housemates is getting married. They’re doing a small church wedding Saturday afternoon, and then we’re celebrating at Birch
Springs Beanery. She’s a co-owner now with Matt Donovan. Have you met Matt yet? His brother owns this place,” I explained.
Tom nodded along. Then he pointed to my engagement ring. “When is your wedding going to be?”
Ah, he’d noticed. I looked down at the ring and tried not to let all my complicated emotions about Marco spill out. “We haven’t set a date yet. Maybe next summer.”
Tom’s dark eyebrows lifted a little.
“My fiancé, Marco, travels a lot for work. He’s in a really critical stage right now. Once he gets another promotion, he won’t have to travel so much. We figured it would be a good time for us to save money for the wedding.” It sounded pathetic when I said it out loud. But the truth was, lately I hadn’t been eager to set a date like I had been when we were first engaged.
He nodded as though digesting that. “Well, I hope your housemate has an amazing wedding. The weather should be really nice.”
“No kidding. Emily, that’s my housemate, and her fiancé, Nate, were thinking of having an outdoor reception, but decided not to add the stress of fickle weather to their big day.”
“Are you in the wedding?” Tom asked.
I shook my head. “They aren’t having bridesmaids or groomsmen or anything. I am playing the piano, though. And we’re going to help decorate for the reception.”
“You play the piano?”
“I do. I love it.” I waved as Sophie and Kelly rode past. I ignored Kelly’s waggling eyebrows as she looked between me and Tom.
“I was thinking of getting Sophie into piano lessons. You don’t happen to give lessons, do you?”
I thought that over. “I don’t, but I might be able to for Sophie. She’d be a good student. Do you already have a piano?”
Tom nodded, growing excited. “We do. I think it’s mostly in tune. We’re renting a house in town, and one of the things that the last tenants left behind was an upright piano. The landlord said we could keep it if we wanted it when we moved out.”
“How cool!”
We began to talk about the logistics of making piano lessons a reality. I told Tom about the importance of practicing every day, and we came to an agreement about how much the lessons would cost as well as when they would be. By the time we got the kids on the bus, I had my first piano student booked for a week from the next Saturday morning.