Learning to Love

by Emma Woods

  I offered a weak smile in return.

  “Tom and I were at the same church, back about ten years ago. When he moved to town, I knew he’d be great to help out with this group. He was a real leader with our men’s group back in the day. Tom, why don’t you tell everyone about yourself?” Mike patted him on the back heartily.

  Tom cleared his throat and began, “Well, as Mike said, I’m Tom Jerrett. My daughter and I moved to town about a month ago. I’m the foreman over at the Triple Star Ranch. My daughter Sophie is seven, and she’s actually in Jill’s class.”

  All eyes turned my way. Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and whispered, “Lucky you.”

  I poked her with my elbow and felt my face grow warm. “Sophie is really sweet,” I said hoping to turn the attention back to Tom.

  His smile was meant just for me, and everyone knew it. Elizabeth snickered a little, and I had to look away. I didn’t know what to do with Tom’s attention, particularly since I kind of liked it. A lot.

  Thankfully, the discussion moved on to the various service projects the church was going to do.

  “We really want the young adults to spread out and sign up for a variety of projects. Your energy and enthusiasm will be a big help to each of the project leaders. Our families might be a bit distracted, and our older folks won’t be able to do as much anymore, even though some of them don’t seem to know it.” Mike paused for us to laugh in appreciation.

  There were going to be four projects. Some people would be cleaning up an abandoned lot near the rest home. Others would be preparing gift bags for the long-term patients at the hospital in Melbourne. An elderly woman needed some work done on her house. And there was a large garden that needed planting for the women’s shelter.

  Mike called for us to volunteer for the projects. I raised my hand along with several others for the gift bag preparation, but after counting the volunteers, Mike asked if I would mind switching to working on the house project. I shrugged and agreed.

  “I’m no good with power tools, but I’ll do what I can,” I said lightly.

  “Thanks, Jill,” Mike said. “Let’s divide up by project and spend some time talking logistics.”

  And, wouldn’t you know, Tom was the leader of my project. I sighed inwardly. What in the world was I supposed to do with this situation?

  He patted the seat next to him, and I sank into it, receiving yet another of his warm smiles. I had to admit that he cleaned up nicely. He wore crisp khakis that were a good fit, and a button-up shirt that showed off his broad shoulders and muscled arms nicely. Not that I was looking.

  The other two volunteers for this group were both guys. Jared was a tall, scrawny kid just out of college who lived in his parents’ house and played a lot of video games. He was nice, but a bit on the awkward side. Chris was pudgy and thoughtful. He liked to give deep answers whenever we had a discussion. Unfortunately, it always came across as though he was trying to impress us and only served to give Elizabeth more fodder for her quiet derision.

  Tom outlined the work we needed to do. He explained which tools he would be providing, and what others he’d already recruited would bring.

  “We’ll need to make sure we get everyone who volunteers to sign the release, and to wear safety goggles. Nothing ruins your day faster than something in your eye. We’ll be doing some painting, so there will be things that people can do who aren’t interested in using power tools.” He pointed this last bit at me.

  “That’s a relief. That poor woman’s house would be in worse shape if you made me do anything tricky,” I joked.

  Jared laughed, his prominent Adam’s apple jerking.

  Chris shook back his bangs and said, “Actually, you’d probably do better than you think.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said, hoping to put an end to the matter. Most of the sentences Chris said in a conversation began with the word “actually,” which drove me crazy.

  Tom didn’t miss any of this and was clearly entertained by it. He pressed his lips together, hiding his smile, and then moved on.

  When our time was finished, Jared and Chris started a raucous conversation meant to impress all the girls in the room. I exchanged a shake of the head with Elizabeth, who was making a beeline toward the door.

  “Actually, I think that the real problem is with education. Don’t you agree, Jill?” Chris said, trying to draw me into the conversation.

  I shrugged, resisting the pull with everything I had. In the few months I’d been here, I’d learned not to get trapped with Chris pontificating and Jared leering at me. I looked for a way to escape. My back was to a wall, and the pair of them had me penned in place. My brain scrambled for an excuse to leave the conversation.

  “Jill, I was hoping to talk to you,” came Tom’s voice.

  “Sorry, guys, I have to go,” I said and fairly skipped over to where Tom was putting the last of the chairs away. “Thank you,” I breathed. I didn’t want to be rude. However, he’d obviously noticed my discomfort during group time, so I figured Tom knew what I was talking about.

  He laughed quietly. “You looked like a rabbit about to be devoured by a hawk over there.”

  I giggled. “That’s pretty much how I felt. They’re nice guys. In small doses.”

  “Sophie’s been practicing the piano every day,” he said. We started walking toward the door. “She might be a little too enthusiastic, truth be told. I told her she’s only allowed to practice once a day.”

  “It’ll wane, don’t worry. Everyone starts off excited, and then practicing becomes a chore pretty quickly.”

  Tom shrugged. “I don’t know if I should be looking forward to that or not. Does a good dad hope his daughter stops being enthusiastic about something?”

  Sophie bounded out of her Sunday School classroom. “Hi, Miss Kent! I lost a tooth last night! Remember when I showed you how wiggly it was at my piano lesson yesterday? It fell out just when I got out of the car, when we got home.”

  She grabbed my hand and skipped along beside me.

  “Did the tooth fairy come to your house?” I asked, glancing up at Tom, who nodded slightly.

  “Yup. She brought me a dollar!”

  “Wow, your teeth must be really valuable,” I teased.

  We wandered upstairs, where Granddad was waiting for me. I introduced him to Tom and Sophie, who stared at him in awe. Shyly, she took her dad’s hand and stepped closer to him.

  “What’s wrong, Soph?” Tom asked her, wiggling her hand.

  Completely star-struck, the little girl gasped, “I never thought I’d meet my teacher’s grandfather!”

  All the adults laughed at her response. Soon, Granddad and I waved good-bye and headed off toward Melbourne for our usual Sunday lunch spot. As we drove along, I reflected on how my grumpy mood had disappeared yet again. The Jerretts always had a good effect on me, it seemed.

  9

  By the following week, the kids in our horseback club were familiar with the routine. They were each doing a research project on a different breed of horse. We spent Tuesdays, and any rainy Wednesdays or Thursdays, looking up facts online and in the library.

  The other two days, we rode out to the ranch. It was really fun to watch our students growing more confident with the horses and the routines. They were expected to help with chores around the stables. Kelly and I agreed that this would help them to have a realistic understanding about what horse ownership involved. Tom was always on hand to direct our group, which made it much easier on us chaperones.

  I’m not exactly sure how it happened, but over the next week, all my reservations about Tom’s attentions dissolved somehow, and we settled into an easy friendship. Whenever I caught an especially warm look from him, I assured myself that this was just the way he treated his friends. I’d obviously misunderstood what I thought I’d read in his expression previously.

  “Is it normal for the foreman to spend so much time with school groups?” I half asked, half teased one day in late
September as Tom and I leaned against the fence, watching the kids try posting a trot for the first time.

  He shook his head and looked a tad sheepish. “Not at all. I talked with Luke about it, and he said that I should take time to be with Sophie. Have you met Luke Donovan yet?”

  “No, I haven’t. Matt Donovan comes over to hang out with their sister, Rosemarie, at Bumblebee House, but I have yet to meet Luke. Rosemarie gushes about her niece and nephew, though.”

  “I met Matt at the coffee shop,” Tom replied.

  “It sounds like Luke’s a really understanding boss.”

  “He really is.”

  I gave Tom a surreptitious, sidelong look. He often wore a faded baseball hat, which covered up his completely bald pate. With his thick beard and mustache, the hat made him seem much younger. I’d first thought him to be in his forties, but with the hat on, I realized he must be much closer to my age than I’d thought. Possibly, he was in his early thirties.

  “I hope that means you and Sophie will be around for a long time. I definitely want to know that girl when she gets to be a teenager. She is going to be a hoot,” I predicted.

  Tom’s eyes crinkled, and a grin split his beard. “She’ll have me whipped into shape in no time. Did I tell you that she has started telling me about what to do when I start going on dates?”

  I cracked up. “No way! She is so funny.”

  “It’s my fault. We watched ‘The Parent Trap’ last week, which was my suggestion.” Tom’s voice was chagrined.

  “The old Hayley Mills one, or the new Lindsay Lohan one?”

  “The old one.”

  “I take it Sophie liked the movie.”

  Tom rolled his eyes. “She loved it. I thought I’d be safe, since we haven’t heard from her mom in months—since she signed the divorce papers, actually. I figured Sophie wouldn’t get any ideas about me and her mom, but now she’s decided I need to start dating.”

  My laugh was a bit forced. For the first time, I pictured Tom dating someone, and I found I didn’t like the idea. If he asked out another woman, I’d have to be careful with how friendly I was with him. Considering how much I enjoyed his friendship and loved his daughter, that would be a real blow.

  Of course, telling him not to rush into anything would be a bad idea, no matter how much I wanted to say it.

  On Saturday, Sophie came over for another piano lesson. Tom dropped her off and promised to return in a half-hour, saying he had some errands to run.

  “Don’t rush,” I told him. “We’ll be fine here if you need a little extra time. I think Rosa is baking cookies this morning.”

  “Mmm,” Sophie said, rolling her eyes in anticipation.

  We settled on the piano bench in the study. Sophie looked up at me and wiggled a little.

  “I practiced every day, Miss Kent!” She grinned, showing the new gap where she’d just lost another tooth. Then she grew a bit serious. “I need to ask you a question.”

  “Shoot,” I said, looking forward to hearing what was going on in her brain.

  Her chocolatey brown eyes, so like her father’s, were full of concern. “My dad says that you can practice too much. I’m only allowed to practice one time a day. Is that true?”

  I paused to think that over, hoping to suppress my smile and remembering what Tom had said on the subject. “I think that when you’re starting off, you’ll definitely want to practice every day. Maybe your dad gets tired of hearing the same songs over and over again. Besides, you’re doing really well. I think you’re practicing enough. Later on, when you know a lot more songs, it’ll probably be more fun for your dad to listen to them.”

  Sophie nodded sagely, and we turned our attention to the lesson. She was a quick learner, which was something I’d noticed in class. Anything I showed her, she remembered. We reviewed the notes from last week and added two new ones in anticipation of this week’s songs.

  The beginning songs all had words to go along with them, and I sang them as I played. “Do you sing the words when you practice?” I asked Sophie, a sudden, impish idea springing into my brain.

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “I think it would be a funny joke on your dad if you started singing really loudly every time you practiced.” I giggled wickedly at the thought. I knew Tom would be a good sport, but if he grew weary of Sophie practicing as it was, adding the singing would push his buttons.

  Sophie giggled, too. “That would be so funny!”

  “If you do it, let me know what he says.”

  “Okay!” She twinkled up at me.

  The half-hour sped by. We put Sophie’s piano books into her little tote bag and went to check the driveway.

  “No sign of my dad,” she said. “Do you think I could have a cookie?”

  The delicious aroma had been tempting us all morning. “Definitely. Let’s go to the kitchen. Do you like milk with your cookies?”

  “Hey, girls! I love that beautiful music!” Rosa sang out when we entered the kitchen. “Does anyone need a cookie?”

  Sophie and I both answered with a hearty, “Me!”

  We got Sophie settled at the peninsula on a tall stool with a glass of milk and two cookies on a pretty china plate. There was a knock at the door.

  “Go ahead, Jill. I’ll stay with Sophie,” Rosa said, waving a wooden spoon at me.

  “Are you okay, Soph?” I asked.

  She nodded and dunked part of a cookie into her milk, already telling Rosa all about her cookie preferences.

  I went to the door and opened it. Tom was standing on the other side. He was wearing battered jeans and an old t-shirt. His baseball cap was in place, as were his trusty old work boots. I had to admit, he cut a nice figure. He wasn’t particularly tall. With his broad shoulders and muscles, I knew he’d have no trouble finding a woman who’d go out with him. The thought made my stomach churn a bit, so I pushed it aside.

  “Sophie’s in the kitchen with Rosa eating cookies,” I informed him and stepped back so he could enter. “Did you get all your errands run?”

  He came in and we stood in the front entryway, neither in a hurry to get to the kitchen and Sophie. “I think so. Thanks for keeping an eye on her. It’s always easier to get through errands on my own. There’s one fewer voice talking the whole time.”

  I smiled. “She does have a lot to say, but it’s all so cute.”

  Tom rolled his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. “She is a really good kid. Maybe I’m being a bad parent when I get so annoyed by it.”

  It wasn’t the first time he’d mentioned being a bad father. I wondered if that was a fear that plagued him. “You know, I think that’s pretty normal. My class is very chatty this year, and sometimes all I want is for them to stop talking for five minutes. It drives me crazy.”

  The side of his mouth quirked briefly, and then he sighed. “I had no idea how hard it was to be a single parent. When I was younger, I wondered what the big deal was. It’s such a heavy weight to carry all the time. I always feel like I should be doing more for her. Like, if she had a mother who was in the picture, she’d be much better off.”

  My heart went out to him. I could barely remember the days when my dad was a single parent. We’d only been on our own for about fourteen months before Ashley came into the picture. What I remembered most was how happy my dad had been when they got married. The early years had been really good for me, too. I guess having two parents did make a difference for both parent and child.

  “Sophie is delightful. She is smart and fun. She’s doing great at school. I think that’s all proof that you’re doing your job well. Nobody is perfect, and I think we put a lot of pressure on parents to achieve some unachievable thing when it comes to raising kids. You’re making a lot of great choices where Sophie is concerned, and that tells me that you’re a very good parent.” I wanted very much to encourage him.

  Tom’s hands went to his pockets, and his eyes became unreadable. After a few beats, he smiled a bit crookedly. “Than
ks, Jill. I appreciate it.”

  “Well, I mean it.” I smiled at him and changed the subject. “Do you feel ready for the service project next weekend? We won’t be able to do Sophie’s piano lesson, since we’ll be working all day. Do you want to skip it or reschedule?”

  “Either is fine with me, though you’d probably prefer having some time off. You see us seven days a week. You’d probably like a break,” he joked.

  “Oh, yeah, you two are so hard to be around.” I teased him back. “I wouldn’t mind rescheduling. Marco wants us to go on a trip over the holidays, and I’m saving every penny.”

  Tom scrutinized me for a moment, but he didn’t say anything to reveal what he was thinking. “Well, let me check at work and see if we can make another day work.”

  I nodded, and he turned and went toward the kitchen. I followed him, feeling like his usual sunshiny-ness had drifted behind a cloud. Being around Tom always made me feel warm, safe, and glad. As we entered the kitchen, I decided on the spot that Tom was the equivalent of a chocolate chip cookie fresh out of the oven. Why had I suddenly felt like I’d been dunked into a glass of cold milk?

  “Hi, Tom,” Rosa greeted him. “Sophie was helping me put the cookies away. Could you two use a few? I made a triple recipe, and I might have overdone it.”

  I stood at the peninsula and watched the three of them interact. Rosa was her welcoming, in-command self. Sophie wiggled with excitement, her eyes swinging brightly between the two adults as a tin was found and filled with treats. Tom laughed at something Rosa said and thanked her for the cookies. I bit my lip and felt very left out. Was this what would happen when Tom started dating someone?

  It was ridiculous that I felt jealous of Rosa and the yet-unknown future girlfriend, but there it was. Tom was my friend and Sophie was my student. I wanted the best for them, didn’t I? Shouldn’t I hope that they find a wonderful woman to love them both?

  I had no answers to either of those questions, and I waved them off a bit glumly. Just as they drove off, my phone rang, and I saw that Marco was calling.