by Beth Rinyu
“Elmo?” I asked. Elmo didn’t have a vicious bone in his body.
“I don’t know; we didn’t have a chance to be formally introduced,” he said sarcastically.
Ryan and I both began to laugh at the same time. If what they say is true and animals can sense a person’s true personality, then Elmo was dead on.
“What’s so funny? You know, Ryan, he could have bit off my hand,” Dailan joked.
“Oh my God, I don’t think he would even break the skin, let alone bite off your hand. Besides, according to you, that wasn’t the part of the anatomy he was after,” I joked.
“Yeah, well, what could I say, all the girls are after that part of my body.” He raised his eyebrow at me and smiled.
“Oh, yeah, too bad Elmo is a boy! And don’t be too sure of yourself; not all girls.”
“Oh really? You wanted it, until you found out who I was.”
I looked over at Ryan, who was in the living room packing up his backpack, making sure he was out of earshot.
“No, that was after a little too much alcohol and, trust me, I haven’t had anything else to drink after that night. I realized just how much drinking affects my judgment.” I gave him a sarcastic smile.
“Oh darlin’, you really need to stop pretending that you don’t like me.”
“Oh, I’m not pretending, Mr. O’Maley.”
He gazed at me with a mischievous smile. I stared back at him as if to challenge him.
“Okay, Uncle Dailan, I’m ready,” Ryan announced.
“He had dinner and his homework’s all done,” I said, putting on my sweet teacher voice again for Ryan’s sake.
Dailan opened the door as Ryan went out ahead of him. “Goodbye, Miss Morgan,” Ryan said.
“Bye, Ryan; see you in the morning.”
I looked up from Ryan, waiting for Dailan to make his way out the door as well. “Good night, Miss Morgan, I’ll be seeing you in your dreams tonight.”
I shook my head and rolled my eyes at him. “Oh no, don’t say that, I need to get a good night’s sleep tonight and nightmares always keep me up.” Take that, you egotistical jerk. He shook his head and laughed. “Good night, Mr. O’Maley,” I said as I closed the door behind him.
He drove me crazy with his sarcastic comments; things would go so much smoother if he would just act normal and not like the arrogant ass that he was. After getting to know Ryan a little better tonight and seeing how affected he still was over his parents’ deaths, I realized that it was more important than ever that he have someone stable to talk to in his life.
I walked back into the kitchen and I realized the ice cream dishes that Ryan and I had eaten from were still on the breakfast bar. I went to load them in the dishwasher and saw, lying on the counter, Ryan’s thankful composition on which he had been working for our Thanksgiving bulletin board. I picked it up and began to read it. I could see the indentation of his letters on his paper from him pressing so hard with the pencil; something else we had been working on together.
I am thankful for my video games my skate board my bike. I also like my teacher Miss Morgan lots she helps me all the time and doesn’t get mad when I get something wrong or I do some thing that is wrong. She cares about every one and she’s really pretty and easy to talk to. My Uncle Dailan is cool too he is funny and he likes to play video games with me.
I smiled and grabbed another sticker from my bag, placing it on the top of the page. Ryan O’Maley was slowly making his way into my heart, while his uncle was quickly becoming a big pain in my….
Chapter 8
Van Morrison filled the air of Room 114 while I replaced the turkeys on my bulletin board with Christmas trees and menorahs. I turned around when I heard someone loudly clearing his throat, to find Dailan O'Maley standing in my classroom doorway. Speaking of turkeys, l laughed to myself.
I stepped down from the chair I was standing on and immediately adjusted my wool mini-skirt over my black tights. He made no attempt to conceal that he was checking me out from head to toe as I grabbed my phone and turned off the music.
“You don’t have to turn it off on my account,” he said with that same crooked smile that made me angry and melt at the same time.
“What’s up, Mr. O’Maley?”
“You know, you have my permission to call me Dailan – Miss Morgan.”
“Okay then, what’s up, Dailan?”
“Ryan called me while I was on my way home from work. He’s upset because he forgot his math homework. So I told him I would try and get it for him.”
I smiled, realizing just how much Ryan had progressed in these past few months. Two months ago, he would not have cared less about doing homework; now he was actually getting upset over not doing it. “Sure, no problem,” I said as I walked over to my desk to hand him the math sheet that was tonight’s homework.
“Thank you,” he said, almost sounding sincere as he silently gazed at me. Even though I didn’t want to, I still checked him out, up and down. He was dressed in black dress pants, a crisp tailored gray dress shirt, and a gray-and-black tie, which was loosened around his neck. This all was underneath his open black trench coat. He once again had the sexy, overgrown razor stubble on his face. I was finding that I preferred him with that look, rather than the clean-cut one. What the heck was I even thinking? This guy is a jerk. The last thing I should be thinking about is whether I liked him with or without facial hair.
“You’re welcome. Oh, can you give this to Ryan?” I handed him the Thankful Essay that I had just taken down off the bulletin board.
I watched his reaction as he read the essay. He smiled and then chuckled loudly. “Oh, so you get a whole paragraph and I get two lousy sentences?”
I shrugged and smiled.
“Well, then again, I’m not as pretty as you.” He looked at me, waiting for my reaction.
I just stared at him blankly and shook my head.
“So, I was wonderin’ if you wanted to go to dinner and to the tree lighting in town with Ryan and me Saturday night?” he asked.
“Um, no, I don’t think that would be a very good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m sure somewhere in the school handbook it says something about teachers dating parents not being acceptable.”
“Well, I’m not a parent and it’s not a date. Ryan would be coming along.” He argued true to lawyer form.
“Still, you’re Ryan’s -”
“Okay, it’s settled then; I’ll pick you up at six.” He grinned before walking out the door.
I stood there, speechless over his arrogance. How could he just assume that I wanted to go out with him? Plus, as far as he was concerned, I had a boyfriend. After I introduced him to Justin that day, I assumed he would have backed off with his flirtatious efforts, but that just seemed to make him more determined.
I walked back to my bulletin board and started taking my frustration over Mr. Dailan O’Maley out on my Christmas trees. I punched the stapler into them as hard as I could. One minute I was thinking that I just wouldn’t be home when he came to pick me up. The next minute, I was planning what to wear.
* * *
Saturday arrived and I decided that I didn’t want to disappoint Ryan, so I would be home when Dailan O’Maley showed up. I was trying my best to bake gingerbread men. I was planning to bring them in to school and have my class decorate them. I wasn’t having much success. When I looked down at the cooling rack, it looked like the gingerbread men had come straight out of a horror movie. Some were decapitated while others were missing limbs. I looked up at the clock and realized that I had just enough time to change out of my sweats before Dailan and Ryan arrived. I put the rest of the cookie dough in the refrigerator and chalked them up as a loss. I didn’t want my students lying on a couch, years from now, telling a shrink that they were scarred for life by their teacher serving them maimed gingerbread men. So, I would have to go to the store and buy ready-made ones that had all of their body parts.
&
nbsp; I quickly changed into my favorite worn-out jeans and my black turtleneck. My hair looked a mess so I pulled it up into a quick bun. I applied some blush to brighten up my pale skin and dabbed on a quick coat of lip gloss just as the doorbell rang. When I opened the door, Ryan was grinning from ear to ear. I tried my best not to stare at his uncle, but I couldn’t help myself. He was wearing jeans and a gray t-shirt that looked like they were both fitted perfectly for his body under a black wool pea coat.
“Miss Morgan, can I go to the bathroom?” Ryan asked as if we were in school.
“Sure, it’s right around the corner,” I said.
“I just have to grab my coat,” I said to Dailan as I led him into the kitchen.
He looked down at my gingerbread men on the cooling rack and began to laugh. “What the heck are these supposed to be?”
“Oh, I tried to make gingerbread men.”
“What in bloody hell happened to them?”
“They stuck to the cookie sheet when I tried removing them.”
“That’s because you didn’t let them cool off long enough.”
“What?” I asked, shocked that he would know anything about baking.
“Did you try taking them off the cookie sheet right away?” he asked.
“I don’t remember.” I knew full well that I had, but I wasn’t going to admit that to him. I only had one cookie sheet and was in a rush to get the other batches in.
“It’s just like anything. You need to have patience and perseverance; it makes the outcome so much better,” he said as he moved closer to me. I suddenly got the feeling that he wasn’t talking about the gingerbread men any more.
“I’m all done,” Ryan announced as he came out of the bathroom, breaking up the awkwardness I was beginning to feel.
We headed out the door and down the steps to Dailan’s black BMW that was parked in my driveway. Ryan quickly jumped in the back as Dailan held the door open for me, closing it when I got in. Okay, maybe he could be a gentleman when he wanted to be.
“Can we go to Buster’s…please!” Ryan begged.
“It’s up to Miss Morgan,” Dailan said, looking over at me with a smug smile.
“That’s fine with me,” I said. Buster’s was a casual restaurant located in my town. I was hoping that because of the location, it would help lessen the chances of seeing anyone from school.
My phone began to ring and I fumbled through my purse to grab it. I looked at the caller ID and saw that it was Donna. I sent the call to voicemail; I knew she was just calling to confirm that we were still on for dress shopping tomorrow. I hadn’t told her about my date with Dailan; I figured I would deal with that tomorrow when I saw her.
“Boyfriend?” Dailan asked sarcastically.
“Oh no, we broke up; he wasn’t my type.” Even though I didn’t care what Dailan O’Maley thought of me, it bothered me to think that I was going out with another man when I had a pretend boyfriend at home.
He took his eyes off the road for a brief second, giving me a sly look of triumph, making me immediately regret telling him that I no longer had a boyfriend.
“What is your type?” he asked smoothly.
“Certainly not you,” I said with a grin.
“You don’t even know what type I am.”
“Oh, I think I know enough.”
“I think you may have your doubts or else you wouldn’t be here tonight,” he said.
“Well it’s not a date – remember?” I reminded him.
We pulled into the parking lot and I was feeling much like I was incognito as we walked into the restaurant making sure that I didn’t see anyone who was associated with school in any way. The hostess took us to a booth and I made sure to take the extra seat next to Ryan and not Dailan.
The waitress came over to take our order and I couldn’t help but notice Dailan checking her out when she walked away. “You know that’s just wrong,” I commented.
“What?” he asked, clearly aware to what I was referring.
“The way you look at women like they’re sex objects.”
He rolled his eyes at me. “You know, I like that girl that I met at the bar that night better than the uptight school teacher.”
“Good, ‘cause that girl that you met in the bar doesn’t exist,” I said.
“Oh I betcha if that girl had a few drinks she would come back out,” he said with a smirk.
I looked over, forgetting that Ryan was even there. He was coloring the picture on the back of his placemat, not paying any mind to the bantering going on between me and his uncle. I picked up a crayon and began coloring with him in an effort not to make any more conversation with his uncle. I finally looked up when I could feel him staring at me.
“What?” I asked in annoyance.
He was laughing and trying to play innocent. I had to admit that he looked absolutely adorable at that particular moment with his cute boyish grin.
“Why are you staring at me?” I asked.
“Because I think you’re hot,” he said as he chewed on his straw and his smile became even wider. Ryan started to giggle, never taking his eyes from his coloring.
I pursed my lips and shook my head. “What, are you twelve?” His only response was the arrogant smirk that I had become so acquainted with over the past few months. “You know what – why did I even agree to come out with you tonight? Oh wait—that’s right, I didn’t agree, you just took it upon yourself to barge into my classroom and demand that I go,” I said, not finding any humor in his immature behavior.
“Do you always take demands like that from a man, darlin’? If so, I think I need to get you in the bedroom,” he said as he rubbed the scruff on his cheek.
I couldn’t take his obnoxious behavior anymore. I shook my head and shot him a dirty look before giving him a swift kick in the knee.
“Ouch, that wasn’t very nice,” he said as he rubbed his knee under the table.
“Keep it up and I’ll aim just a little higher.”
“Then that would be your loss.”
“Oh, I’m sure it wouldn’t be,” I snapped.
Ryan seemed unfazed by it all as he continued to color. I realized now exactly where Ryan got his colorful vocabulary - from the immature, arrogant male chauvinist sitting across from me. Did I mention incredibly sexy as well?
Chapter 9
The town square was adorned in lights. Every single lamppost was decked out in green garland and red bows. The upscale shops were all open and in full swing, while Christmas music filled the air. Soon, Santa would arrive and light the twenty-foot Christmas tree that was at the center of it all. It was my family's tradition as a child to attend the tree lighting every year. All of the memories came flashing to me as if it were yesterday; back to a time when I was still my daddy's little girl and not some stranger that he couldn’t even look at. I felt heaviness in my chest; so much had changed from those happy Christmases so long ago.
We sat down on a bench while Ryan ran around with a little boy he had just met who seemed to be his age. I zipped my coat all the way up and wrapped my scarf tightly around my neck. I had forgotten my gloves and buried my hands deep within my coat pockets in an effort to keep them warm. Dailan pulled his gloves from his pocket and offered them to me.
“That’s okay,” I said.
“I don’t have cooties, you know,” he joked.
I reluctantly took them and put them on. They were much too big on me, but they served their purpose in keeping my hands warm. “So tell me about yourself, Mr. Dailan O’Maley.”
“I thought you already knew everything you needed to know,” he said with a smirk.
“Humor me,” I said smirking back at him.
He began to open up and actually have a normal conversation. I finally felt like I was talking to a grown man and not one of my students. He was twenty-nine years old. His mother was from Ireland and his dad was Irish-American. He was born in the United States and moved back to Ireland with his mother when he was two years old,
after his parents divorced. Growing up, he and his older brother Gerry would come back to the United States for a few weeks over the summer to visit his dad. He worked as a lawyer for a marketing firm that had offices in Dublin, London, Boston, Pennsylvania, and New Jersey. He attended college and law school in the United States and had passed the bar exam in three different states. He had also passed the barrister exam in Ireland. I was beginning to see that what he lacked in maturity, he made up for with intelligence. He was living and working in Dublin, until his brother passed away seven months ago. He was here temporarily to care for Ryan and he was working in the office based in New Jersey. He had planned on returning to Dublin with Ryan, once he had gotten the approvals from the courts to take him out of the country. His brother and his wife Connie had granted full custody to Dailan in their will. I couldn’t help but wonder what the heck they were thinking when they did that and why they wouldn’t have chosen Connie’s sister, who was adamantly fighting Dailan on it. She didn’t want him taking Ryan out of the country to live. I could see sadness in his eyes at the mention of his brother and I actually felt sorry for him.
“So you guys were pretty close?” I asked.
“Who?” he asked as if he were taken off guard.
“You and your brother.”
“Yeah, we were.” He looked away as if it pained him to talk about it.
“Well, I’m really sorry,” I said sincerely.
He looked at me and nodded with sadness in his eyes. We sat in comfortable silence and watched Ryan, who was sitting by the Christmas tree, listening to a story being read by an older woman, who was supposed to be Mrs. Claus. Dailan began to chuckle as he watched Ryan take the hand of the little girl sitting next to him. So much alike, I thought to myself.
“You know, he’s come so far in just a few months,” I said.
“Yeah, most of it is thanks to you.” He smiled.