When she came and knocked on the doorframe of my classroom about fifteen minutes before the school doors opened, I wished I had an excuse to escape from her. I did not. My room was perfectly set up, and I was prepared for my first day, and it showed.
“Hi, Patty,” I said, forcing myself to smile at her.
Patty stepped into my classroom and looked around. “Wow. You sure put the rest of us to shame, Allie. It looks great in here.”
Her positivity surprised me. Usually, she was as much of a negative Nancy as Ellen was. “Thank you. It took a lot of time, but I got it done. I just hope the kids like it.”
“What’s not to like? It’s colorful and cheerful and organized. You did a good job.”
Part of me was starting to suspect she wanted something. She never came in and said nice things like this out of the goodness of her heart. Not that she was a bad person. She just wasn’t a particularly happy person. Not recently, at least. Though I couldn’t really blame her. Her life had exploded, and she was still picking up the debris.
“How was your summer?” I asked as I straightened out one of the little desks.
She shrugged. “Good. My kids went to summer camp, so I had some time to finish getting rid of Mike’s shit while they were away. Now the house feels like mine and not ours.”
“That’s good,” I said, unsure what the right thing to say there was. “Did they have fun at summer camp?”
Patty sank down into one of the chairs. It was a little small for her, but she made do. “They had a blast. They really needed it this year. You know, the escape? Life has been hard on all of us, but especially them. It’s hard for me to keep my mouth shut and not trash talk Mike when it’s all I want to do. But he’s their father. And I can’t do that when they’re around.”
“You’re a very strong mother, Patty. Not all parents are capable of that. I mean it.”
She gave me a weary smile. “Thank you, Allie.”
“How are you feeling about the first day of the year?” I asked, eager to change the subject.
Patty gazed around my classroom. Her stare landed on the massive paint-by-numbers mural on the far wall. “It’s just another day for me. But I remember when I used to get excited. And nervous as hell. Now I’ve done it so many times, it’s lost its shine. You know?”
I hoped that never happened to me. The first day of school had always been one of my favorite days of the year. I anticipated it as excitedly as I looked forward to Christmas, and I was a big Christmas fan. If I ever hit that point in my career where this day was no longer a giant beacon of light, then I would take it as a sign to switch gears and find another job.
Kids deserved teachers who were passionate about teaching. Plain and simple.
“How did your parent-teacher meeting go?” Patty asked.
“Well. Quite well actually. I think I have a good group of children, and the parents seem pleasant.”
“Lucky. I had a list a mile long of allergies and special requests from my parents. And after the meeting, do you know how many emails I got with parents saying, ‘oh, sorry, forgot to mention a couple of things’? It’s unreal. At least seven. Now I have a novel-sized document listing all my kids and all the things they can’t do or have. Our school system doesn’t have enough resources to keep track of all that. I need an assistant.”
I suddenly felt lucky that the biggest inconvenience on my plate was Mrs. Tully. It could have been worse. I could have had a whole room full of Mrs. Tullys, like Patty seemed to have. Then again, maybe Patty didn’t inspire confidence in her parents, so they felt the need to cross their t’s and dot their i’s.
“I hate that the parents come in on the first day, too,” Patty continued. “Can’t they give us a break? There’s so much more pressure when the parents are here. Like they’re watching every move you make to make sure you’re suitable to watch their child for six hours. I have a degree for this. It’s insulting.”
And now we were back in regular Patty territory.
I sighed, went to my desk, and tried to look busy. “It will be over before we know it. Just wait and see. Slap on that smile of yours, shake some hands, and let it roll off your shoulders.”
Patty stood. “I remember when I used to be an optimist.”
“Really?” I asked, sparing a glance up at her. From where I was standing, I couldn’t imagine what Patty might have been like as a ray of positivity. It seemed a completely preposterous idea.
Patty moved to the door. “Really. You remind me of my younger self a little bit. The bright eyes. The eagerness.”
“Don’t tell me I’m going to lose it when I get older. I’m getting a little tired of people telling me that.”
“Then I won’t say a word. Good luck today.”
“You too.”
Patty left. I was glad for it. The last thing I wanted to contend with today was someone trying to tell me what my future was going to be, especially someone who hardly knew me. I controlled my fate and, therefore, my misery. I refused to be one of those women who hated their lives and sat passively back, too afraid to take control and make the changes required.
No, I was not that girl. And I never would be.
The school would be opening in less than two minutes. I went out into the hallway and stood by my open classroom door, waiting for the doors to open and for my students and their parents and guardians to make their way down the hall to start their first day.
Patty remained in her class. I could see the corner of her desk, where she sat sipping her coffee and scrolling through her phone.
How she could be so detached from a moment like this, I had no idea.
Looking both ways down the hall, I realized I was among the few teachers who chose to meet their students in the hall before the start of class. There was another teacher at the far end who taught first grade, and one two doors down from her who taught second grade. We waved at each other, offered friendly smiles, and went back to resume our posts.
I heard the doors open. Children’s voices filled the halls. Sneakers squeaked on the linoleum, and laughter rose up, chasing away the cold emptiness of an empty school over summer vacation. I breathed deeply, steadying myself against the wave of people that were about to come down the hall.
When they came, my heart fluttered in my chest. My palms grew sweaty. I shifted my weight from one foot to the next and kept my eyes fixed on the mass of students rolling down the hall toward me.
The first of the kids coming down the hall were not mine. They passed me and went to their classrooms, their parents trailing far behind as the children mingled and talked with their friends.
The second wave of kids were younger and came with their parents.
Mrs. Tully was in the lead with Brady, whose hand she had clutched in her own like a vise grip as he veered to the side, trying to dart into every open door.
Yes, he would be a headache this year. That much was obvious.
Mrs. Tully was dressed in a black and white pencil dress. She wore a loose draping cardigan over her shoulders, and her Michael Kors purse hung from the groove of her shoulder. Since seeing her on Friday night when she had red nails, she’d had them redone. Now they were gold, and little gems caught the fluorescent ceiling lights above as she walked, her hips swaying, her black pointed-toe pumps clipping at the linoleum with her brisk walk.
When she drew closer, I smelled her perfume. “Good morning, Mrs. Tully. Hi, Brady. Welcome. Go on in and find your seat, please.”
Mrs. Tully half dragged, half pushed Brady through the classroom door while muttering a string of nonsensical words under her breath in frustration.
More parents began filing in with their children. I greeted everyone personally, shook some hands, and made sure I welcomed every child. When they vanished behind me, I reminded them to hang their items in their cubbies and find their desks. The parents didn’t have to leave until I came back into the room to start the day.
I was preoccupied with eavesdropping on Mrs.
Tully arguing with Brady when Mav and Olivette appeared at the end of the hallway and began making their way toward me.
As soon as I laid eyes on him, I was overcome with the urge to fix myself. To stand up straighter. To flick my ponytail over my shoulder. I resisted and stayed where I was, rooted to my post outside the door like my salary depended on it.
But damn, did he look good. He was dressed in his fire uniform. A black T-shirt with the Searing Station emblem on the right side of his chest. Black cargo pants. His shirt was tucked in, and unlike Friday night, I could see the complete silhouette of his body.
Broad shoulders. Tapered waist. Strong legs. Powerful arms.
Keep your eyes in your head and your jaw off the floor, Allie.
Mav gave me a friendly smile when they drew near. “Morning, Allie.”
I returned his smile with one of my own. Candice’s warning blared in my ears as giddiness washed over me at being so close to him. She was right. I did turn into a schoolgirl when I was around a hot guy.
“Good morning,” I said. “Hi, Olivette. It’s so nice to see you again.”
Mav’s daughter hid behind his legs like she had on Friday evening. But she gave me a smile, and that was enough.
“You two can go on inside. I’m only waiting for a couple more students to arrive, and then we’ll start our day. Mav, you don’t have to leave until I come back in and go to the front of the room. Then you can say your goodbyes. Does that sound okay?”
Mav nodded and glanced down at his daughter. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good.”
I thought I detected a note of hesitancy in his voice. The inflection almost made me reach out to touch his wrist, but instead, I clasped my hands behind my back. “It’s perfectly all right for a parent to feel unsure about leaving their child on the first day of school. I understand. You can call and check-in at lunchtime if you’d like.”
Mav’s dark blue eyes swung back up to me. “Thank you, Allie. I just might take you up on that.”
I tipped my head toward the classroom. “Go on in. I’ll be there soon.”
Mav took Olivette’s hand and led her inside. I watched them go, my heart filling with warmth as Mav found Olivette’s cubby and helped her take her jacket off and hang up her bag. He told her where her lunch kit was for when she needed it and reminded her of all the things in her bag. Then he took her to her desk and started showing her everything in the vicinity.
He was trying to make her feel at ease.
Olivette watched him like there was nothing else in the room. Her eyes followed every move he made, and her attention never wavered. When he crouched down in front of her desk, she reached for him, and he took her hands in his and started talking softly to her. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but I suspected it was a pep talk of some sort to give her the confidence she needed to endure saying goodbye to her father.
I was struck with a paralyzing moment of a desperate need for a connection like that.
A child of my own. Someone I could give all my love to.
Someone who could complete me.
But the moment passed as soon as it came, and I finished greeting the last few parents and students as they arrived. Then I turned to go back into the room.
And walked right into Mav’s chest.
11
Mav
Allie leaped backward like I was an electric fence. She ended up in the hall with red cheeks and pressed one hand to her chest.
“Sorry,” I said, moving out into the hall after her. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“That’s okay,” she breathed. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“To be fair, I take up most of the doorway, and you had your back turned.”
She smiled and let out a soft giggle. She seemed to regret the sound that came out of her because she clamped her lips shut and looked down at her feet. “Is there something you need, Mav?”
“I wanted to talk.”
“Oh?” She looked back up, her light green eyes fixing me with curiosity. “What about?”
“Olivette.”
“Yes. Yes, of course. Is something wrong?”
“No,” I said hurriedly. “No, nothing is wrong. I just—” I broke off abruptly when the other parents began filing out of the room.
It was eight-thirty, the start of class, and there I was, taking up the teacher’s time with my concerns. I swallowed as Allie and I got out of the way of the other parents.
“Sorry. Now isn’t a good time. I should let you get back—”
Allie shook her head and reached out, resting her fingertips lightly on my wrist. She withdrew as soon as she touched me and wrapped her arms around herself, almost like she was embarrassed. “Now is fine. Tell me what’s on your mind, Mav. Let me help. It’s my job.”
I studied her. Then, ignoring the stream of parents leaving behind me, I spoke up. “I’m worried about her.”
“That’s perfectly normal. This is a big step for both you and Olivette.”
“It’s just… Olivette always has me or my grandmother there with her. If something happens or if she gets scared, I hate to think of not being there for her.”
“Mav,” Allie said softly. Her eyes were kind, and she smiled at me with compassion, not pity. “All good parents feel this way. It is very hard to leave your child for the first time. But this is what I do for a living. It’s what I love to do. And I assure you, Olivette is in good hands with me. I’ll be there for her every step of the way. I promise.”
The tension in my shoulders was already beginning to evaporate. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now, I suggest you go back in there and say goodbye. I’ll give you a couple more minutes.”
I took her up on the offer and slipped back into the classroom. Olivette looked up expectantly as I came back to her desk, and I could see the nervousness in her. She looked unsure. Unsettled. When I crouched down in front of her, she reached for me.
“I have to go now, kiddo,” I said.
Olivette’s bottom lip quivered a couple of times before she got it under control. “Can’t you stay?”
I put a hand on her shoulder. “No, not any longer than I already have. It’s time for Ms. Branson to take over, and she can’t do that with all these adults crowding her classroom. But I talked to her. She’s a very nice lady, and you can trust her. She’s going to take care of you just like Nana and I take care of you.”
“I want to go home, Daddy. Please. Can we go home?”
My heart ached, but I shook my head. “No, kiddo. Not yet. But do you know what’s going to be awesome?”
“What?”
“I’m going to be back here when school is over to pick you up, and you can tell me all about your day. I think you’re going to have a lot of fun once I leave, and I can’t wait to hear all about it. You will tell me everything, won’t you?”
She nodded. “I promise.”
“Good girl. Now give me a hug.”
Olivette slid off her chair and wrapped her arms around my neck. I gave her a good squeeze, kissed the side of her head, and broke the hug before I got cold feet, scooped her up, and ran out of the classroom with my tail between my legs.
I was terrified.
Not that something was going to happen and not because I thought she was going to hate school. But because this was the moment that signaled the end of something else. Something precious.
“I love you, baby,” I said.
“I love you too, Daddy.”
I stood up and looked down at her as she slid back onto her seat. “Have fun.”
She smiled nervously and nodded once.
Feeling like a traitor and a bad father, I turned and left the classroom. Allie caught my arm as I walked through the door and pulled me to the side. “Wait,” she said, steering me out of sight of my daughter.
“For what?”
“Just wait here. You can stay and watch as I start class. I’m going to go in and talk to her. And I think it will m
ake you feel better.”
My tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth.
Allie winked at me. “Trust me, okay?”
I nodded without realizing I was doing it, and before I knew it, Allie turned her back to me and walked into the class. I inched forward to peer around the corner, knowing it would be best to stay hidden from Olivette as she adjusted, and watched as Allie made a beeline straight to my daughter.
Allie dropped to a crouch in front of Olivette’s desk. I couldn’t hear the words that were being said, but I could see the way Olivette was watching her teacher, with wide eyes and full attention. Olivette smiled. Allie laughed.
Then Allie stood and held out her hand. Olivette hesitated a beat, then reached out and took it, and Allie led her to her desk where she collected a stack of papers and handed half to Olivette. The two of them proceeded to walk up and down the aisles between the desks, handing out papers, and Olivette watched her teacher’s every move.
Just like that, her mind wasn’t on me anymore. Allie was a miracle worker.
I still didn’t want to leave. My feet were grounded to the spot like I’d sank a few inches in wet concrete. My daughter was so close but so far, and there was only one step left to seal the deal and close the door on her first day of school.
I had to walk away.
It was harder than I expected—which was saying something because I’d expected it to be hard. It was gut-wrenching. I wanted to rush in there, sweep her up, and run back home with her. I wanted to protect her from everything that life had in store for her. From things that might not even come to pass.
And from things that would.
But I couldn’t.
Right now, I had to let her go.
When I finally managed to put one foot in front of the other and walk down the hall, I was sure a part of my soul remained in that classroom like a guardian angel, hovering over Olivette and warding away any of the other kids who might cause her harm.
Ignite The Spark Between Us: Searing Saviors #4 Page 7