I closed my menu. “Yes, please.”
Candice scrunched her face up in deliberation as she scanned the menu one last time. “Yes. The wrap for me, please. But instead of fries, can I get a bowl of soup on the side? The tomato one, please.”
“Walking on the wild side, I see,” he mused before collecting our menus and leaving us in privacy.
Birds chirped in the trees overhead as I leaned back in my chair to sip my water.
Candice moved forward to rest her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. “So, how did your parent-teacher thing go? Was it an absolute fucking disaster?”
“No, not at all. It went quite well actually. I mean, aside from a snobby mother and mostly disengaged parents, it was good.”
“Sorry, babe. I know you were excited.”
“I still am. It would just be nice if the parents shared the same enthusiasm as me. I mean, these are their kids after all. Shouldn’t they be more invested than I am?”
Candice shrugged. “Honestly, they’re probably just looking forward to you taking over and handling their kids for them for six hours a day.”
I sighed. She was probably right. What I was teaching their four-year-olds paled in comparison to the benefit of them not having to have their kids at home anymore. Mrs. Tully, Brady’s mother, already knew what that was like after having Brady in our preschool program the year before. He and his mother had developed quite the reputation in just one year of attendance.
At least there was Mav Cantone and his little girl. They would be my saving grace. I could feel it in my bones.
“Anything interesting happen besides the snobby mom?”
“No,” I said innocently.
Candice narrowed her eyes. “No?”
I shook my head and looked down at my water.
Candice had a way of pulling information out of me that I didn’t really want to share. Or wasn’t ready to share. She was like a metal detector for secrets.
She leaned even closer to me across the table, her eyes so narrowed she looked like a cat, and I pulled back. “What aren’t you telling me, Ms. Branson?”
I bit my bottom lip. “Nothing. It was nothing. Just one of the dads.”
“What about him?”
I shrugged. “He was attractive.”
“Oh?”
“Very attractive.”
Candice’s face un-scrunched, and she leaned back in her chair with a smug, victorious smile playing on her lips. “Does Miss Goody Two Shoes have a thing for one of her students’ dads?” She clicked her tongue in mock disapproval. “What a rule breaker.”
“I’m not breaking any rules. I can’t help that I think he’s hot. And kind.”
“Hot and kind? Sound the alarm. This one sounds like a real panty-dropper.”
“Shut up,” I said, annoyed at the sarcasm dripping from Candice’s lips. She had a tendency to overreact to things like this. We were polar opposites when it came to men and dating. Where I fell under the category of what she liked to call a prude, she was a bit more wild, more vivacious, and more willing to take men home with her every now and then.
The farthest I’d gone with a guy was in college. And it hadn’t been much of anything. Not really. I’d gotten drunk at a party. He was drunk, too. Maybe even drunker than I was. And we both ended up in a bedroom behind a closed door, and he put his hand up my skirt and rubbed me over my panties. Me, being a young, naive, and silly girl, thought it would stop there. But he kept pushing for more, and my ass was saved when another couple blew into the room, already stripping out of their clothes.
I fled.
That was the closest to a hookup I’d ever come.
“What’s his name?” Candice asked.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“You’re right. It doesn’t. So why not tell me?”
It was impossible to win with her. I sighed. “His name is Mav. He’s a firefighter.”
“A firefighter? Really?”
I nodded and sipped my water.
Candice opened her mouth to speak, but our server returned with our meals. Once everything was set down in front of us and we both had our waters refilled, I busied myself with dicing up the chicken and slices of avocado in my salad. With any luck, Candice would forget all about my mentioning of Mav, and we’d be able to enjoy the rest of our lunch without me feeling like a schoolgirl every time I thought about him.
And boy, had I been thinking about him.
Ever since the previous night, he’d been playing over and over in my mind like a movie reel, bombarding me with that toxic, handsome smile of his and his deep, smooth voice. Of course, it didn’t help how sweet of a dad he was either. His attentiveness to his little girl was almost as much of a turn on as his broad shoulders and—
“Allie, are you even listening to me?”
I stopped cutting my salad and met Candice’s hard stare. “Erm, sorry. I was concentrating.”
“On cutting your salad?” she asked dryly.
“Uh huh.”
“Bullshit. You were thinking about him, weren’t you? You have to be careful, Allie. The father of one of your students? I know how overbearing your crushes can be. You don’t want to end up pining over a man whose kid you’re supposed to be setting a good example for.”
“Who are you, the politically correct morality police?”
Candice laughed. “No, I’m your best friend. And I’m watching out for you. That’s all.” I hardly thought I was in need of watching out for. I was a smart woman. I was more than capable of keeping the lid on my temptation and carrying on a professional relationship with Mav Cantone.
Wasn’t I?
Candice took a bite of her wrap and licked Caesar dressing from the corner of her mouth. “Look. It’s not only that he’s one of your kid’s parents, but he’s also a firefighter.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means trouble.”
Frowning, I pushed my food around on my plate to mix up all the ingredients, and then I skewered my first bite on my fork. The salad was deliciously tangy and a little sweet. The Cajun chicken was the perfect contrast of flavors. “I’m not doing anything, Candice. I just said he was good looking. That’s it.”
Candice rolled her eyes. “Uh huh.”
“It’s true. He’s good looking, and he was the only parent who seemed happy to be there. He even stayed for a tour afterward. His daughter was really shy, and I wanted her to feel comfortable, so I showed him—them—around.”
Candice got a devious look in her eye. “I’m sure you’ll be showing him more than just the school.”
“Candice!”
“What?”
“Stop it. I’m the teacher. He’s a parent. And besides, all we did was talk. There’s no harm in talking. He was there for his daughter’s sake, not his own, and I was happy to help.” I squared my shoulders and tried to remain unruffled by Candice’s disbelieving stare. “Anyway, his daughter is a real sweetheart. I think I’m going to be able to help her open up over the course of the year. She’s definitely shy. And I can’t help but think that she’s going to be one of my favorites.”
“And it has nothing to do with her dad?”
“Nothing,” I said firmly.
Candice sighed. “All right. Just keep your wits about you, Allie. The mother isn’t in the picture for a reason.”
I stared down at my salad as a sinking feeling grew in my gut. What was that? Disappointment? What right did I have to feel disappointed? Candice’s words were true, but I had no intention of pursuing him.
So why did I suddenly feel like something I wanted had just slipped through my fingers?
9
Mav
“Your daughter sleeps like the dead,” my grandmother said when I walked into the kitchen on Sunday morning. She pushed a mug of coffee into my hands, strong and dark with half a teaspoon of sugar, just how I liked it.
“She’s still out, I assume?”
My grandmother nodded. “Like a
light.”
“Well, let her soak it in. Soon, she’ll be getting up for school in the morning and will only be able to sleep in on the weekends.” I sank down into one of the kitchen chairs and sipped my coffee. The rich earthy flavor broke the lingering fatigue in my head.
I hadn’t slept well the night before. Hell, I hadn’t slept well for the last couple of weeks leading to the end of summer. Kindergarten was a big deal. A big step. And even though I had my grandmother supporting me all the way through this, it was still going to be so different than what I’d dreamed it might be.
I was alone.
I could never say that out loud, of course. I didn’t ever want my grandmother to think I didn’t appreciate her or to feel like she wasn’t doing enough to combat my loneliness. Because she was. She was doing more than enough. I felt guilty over how hard she worked to make things easier on me and Olivette.
But still, there was only so much a guy could take before he started craving that other kind of connection. Like the connection I had with my late wife. Something real, tangible, that words couldn’t describe but your heart knew was right.
It was the only thing that would fill the void inside me that seemed to grow bigger and bigger with every passing month. I feared by the time Olivette started high school, the black hole inside me would have sucked me in completely, leaving nothing behind but the shell of a man who used to be.
“How did the meeting go on Friday night?” my grandmother asked.
I got to my feet and set to making some toast. “Good.”
“That’s it? Good?”
“I’m sure Olivette has already told you all about it.”
“Indeed, she has, but I’d like to hear your side of things.”
I shrugged. “The school is nice. Clean. Bigger than I expected. And the other parents seem fine. The teacher…” I trailed off. How could I describe Allie without using the wrong words? “The teacher is pleasant. Very educated. Friendly. I liked how she was with Olivette. I think the two of them will get along well this year.”
“Your girl needs a woman in her life.”
I shot my grandmother a skeptical look as I waited for my toast to pop. “She already has a woman in her life. You.”
She waved me off. “You know what I mean.”
“Are you suggesting I try to hit it off with my daughter’s teacher? Nana, I haven’t seen this side of you before.”
My grandmother laughed and shook her head at me. She swatted me away from the toaster with the hand towel she always kept draped over one shoulder, and I retreated to the other side of the kitchen as she grabbed the peanut butter. She insisted on fixing my food every chance she had. She was incapable of sitting still. “There’s a lot of sides you haven’t seen of me. And I wasn’t suggesting anything. I was just saying. Your girl needs a young woman in her life she can look up to. I hope this Ms. Branson can be that woman for her.”
“I think she can. She has her master’s in engineering for crying out loud.”
“Does she now?”
I nodded. The toast popped. My grandmother spread peanut butter over it in three smooth swipes and handed me my plate. “Thank you.”
“You’d best eat quickly. You’re running short on time.”
“Always,” I muttered with a mouth half full of toast.
Both of the firetrucks were parked out in the driveway when I pulled up to the station. Trace was walking around Gerty with his clipboard, doing a routine check, and the hose and wash buckets were all pulled out in preparation of a wash.
It was a beautiful summer afternoon. A perfect day for a wash.
I parked my truck at the curb and walked up the sidewalk to the station. Trace saw me coming and looked up from his clipboard. “Morning,” he called.
“Morning.”
“How were your days off?”
“Good. Short. Yours?”
“About the same. Except my mother ambushed me with another God-forsaken blind date.”
I laughed. “You poor bastard.”
Trace had a mother with one priority: to find him the perfect girl. She’d been at it for months. Maybe even years. I enjoyed hearing about all the dates he went on with women from various walks of life who his mother was convinced would be his soul mate. Each and every time she was sure she’d found the one, Trace would come home in a foul mood at having wasted yet another evening.
Part of me wondered if he was too picky.
The other part of me had high suspicions that his mother was choosing women who didn’t have the same goals and values as him. He wasn’t the kind of man to waste his or someone else’s time, so I could see how that would become frustrating.
“Another dud?” I folded my arms over my chest and leaned against Gerty’s front bumper.
Trace tucked the clipboard under his arm. “Man, you have no idea.”
“Tell me. By all that is good, please tell me.”
Trace smirked. “Her name was Pamela.”
“Okay.”
“I picked her up at home. She lives in a one-bedroom condo, and I shit you not, everything inside her place was some shade of pink. There were flowers everywhere. Including all over her outfit. And she smelled like mothballs and mouthwash.”
“I don’t see anything worth complaining about. Sounds like a ten out of ten, if you ask me.”
“Get bent. She was sweet. Really, very nice. But holy hell was she boring. It was like sitting across the table from my own grandmother. Her favorite pastime is knitting. Knitting, dude.”
“What’s wrong with knitting?”
“It was too many things. Too many things to get past to see if I even liked the girl.”
“Have you told your mother?”
Trace sighed and shook his head. “No, but I’m sure she’ll call with a thousand questions about how it went and when I’m taking her out again.”
“And when you tell her you aren’t?”
Trace studied me. “Dude, I have no idea. I just want her to get off my back, you know? I can’t keep dating these women that I have no connection with. I’m going to completely lose faith in my ability to attract interesting, smart, beautiful women.”
“Now you’re just being dramatic.”
Trace cracked a white smile. “You’re right. I’m too handsome not to find someone.”
“And he’s back,” I mused. Then I patted Gerty with one hand. “You going to wash them?”
“Yeah, in a little bit. I was going to ask one of the guys for a hand.”
“I’ll help.”
Trace accepted my offer and finished his inspection of the truck. Then we both began lathering one end of the truck and worked tediously to scrub her clean one section at a time. Washing a firetruck wasn’t like washing a car. It was a system we had to follow to make sure we had the best results because Chief Rinehart wouldn’t settle for anything other than squeaky clean.
As we washed, Trace asked me about the parent-teacher meetings.
I told him mostly the same things I’d told my grandmother, except I added one thing. “And I have to admit,” I said as I dragged the back of my hand across my sweaty brow, “Olivette’s teacher is a beautiful woman.”
Trace straightened from his crouch, where he’d been washing the rear wheel well. “Is she now?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Beautiful is a fucking understatement. When I first saw her, I thought she had to be a parent.”
“Is she single?”
“How the hell would I know that?”
“Well,” Trace said, “was she wearing a wedding ring?”
“I didn’t look.”
Trace rolled his eyes. “Man, you have to step up your game.”
“She’s Olivette’s teacher. I don’t want to get involved. All I was saying is—”
“Yeah, yeah. She’s beautiful. So what if she’s her teacher? She’ll only be her teacher for one year. What’s the harm in seeing if there’s a little connection there?”
I shook my head. “No,
that’s crossing a line. Besides, just because I’m into her doesn’t mean she’s into me. That’s not how things work.”
Trace lifted the hem of his shirt and wiped sweat from his neck and face. “Now why wouldn’t she be into you? You’re a catch. Pick Olivette up wearing your uniform one of these days. That’ll get her blood pumping.”
“I don’t want to get her blood pumping.”
“Bullshit.”
I avoided making eye contact. I didn’t want Trace to see right through me. I couldn’t deny it would be nice if a little something started between me and Allie. Even just some flirting. It would be something to look forward to.
I shook my head. No, that wasn’t professional for either of us.
Trace stooped back down to finish the wheel well. “You do what you want, man. It’s your call. Besides, we have more important things to talk about.”
“Like?”
“Like Rinehart opening a new lieutenant position at the station.” Trace looked up at me. “You going to throw your name in the hat for it?”
I considered the question. Lieutenant would be a serious step up in terms of responsibility and salary. But it would demand even more of my time and energy, and I already felt like I was stretched pretty thin and missing out on fleeting quality time with my daughter.
“I don’t know if now is the right time,” I said.
“There’s no such thing as ‘the right time’. I think you’d be great at it.”
“I can’t. Not with Olivette starting school and so many changes coming down the line at home. I wouldn’t be able to give the position the time it demands. I’m all Olivette has. I need to be there for her right now.”
“I get it,” Trace said. “I do. I just think you’d be a great fit. Maybe the best fit out of all of us.”
I watched Trace continue scrubbing. His words were reassuring, and for a moment, I almost told him I’d think about the position. But that was playing with fire.
So instead I kept scrubbing alongside him. “Thanks, Trace.”
10
Allie
Mrs. Gee taught a second and third-grade split class across the hall from me. She’d been at Searing Elementary for eight years after working at a previous school for six. She was in her mid-forties, was recently divorced from her husband who she’d caught cheating on her with their next-door neighbor, and she now had sole custody of the eleven-year-old daughter and ten-year-old son.
Ignite The Spark Between Us: Searing Saviors #4 Page 6