Chalk It Up (Pine Lake #1)

Prologue

August

Wanting to fall to my knees at the feet of my daughter’s new teacher wasn’t on my to-do list today, but here I am.

Living in the small town of Pine Lake, it's impossible to not see everyone who makes up the population at least once. So I’ve seen my daughter’s teacher around and I’d be lying if I said she hasn’t caught my eye multiple times.

But there’s something about being confined to this classroom, sharing this space with Evangeline Jake and at least ten other parents, that’s suffocating.

I only just walked into the Open House to notice that she’s chatting and laughing with a couple of other parents whose children must be in her class this year.

It's inexplicable but I want to be the only one she’s talking to.

She is the type of person who radiates exactly who she is. She unapologetically wears her heart and emotions on her sleeves.

All of this is so immediately obvious that it's almost paralyzing.

The woman who was part of the conversation walks away, leaving just Ms. Jake and the man. He isn’t doing a single thing that’s inappropriate, but I’m strangely jealous of the undivided attention he’s getting from her. I know what I’m feeling is irrational, but she has me entranced.

Her laugh is making me weak. It’s so golden. I want to be the cause and recipient of it, but there’s nothing about me that would bring someone that much joy. It’s then that I realize I too can have all of her attention and that’s the point of the open house; to get to know the teacher.

I’ve never been this determined to talk to a woman, even my daughter’s mother.

I stride through the classroom, weaving between small desks, to hover in her vicinity before another parent can approach her. I am eager to talk to her, not only for my own selfish gain, but because I need to discuss my daughter's learning impairments with her.

Adeline has dyslexia and her teacher last year did the best she could to help, but it didn’t feel like much.

I picked up a lot of the slack at home. Ever since she was about four years old and I felt there might be some difficulties, I started researching ways I could best help her succeed.

I’m hoping Ms. Jake is equipped to help Adeline. I don’t want a repeat of last year.

“It was so nice to chat with you, Mr. Winslow.” Ms. Jake must have noticed my awkward presence off to the side.

She shakes the other dad’s hand in polite dismissal.

“I’m so excited to have Nadine in my class this year.

Please don’t hesitate to reach out if there’s anything I can do for you or your wife. ”

Marcus Winslow nods in response, and turns to walk away, almost running into me.

“Hey, August. Good to see you, man.” He shakes my hand. I attempt to be polite, but I just want to talk to my daughter’s teacher. “Looks like our girls will be in the same class again this year. That’s great.”

“Looks like it,” I reply, but it’s a distracted response. He has nowhere near my full attention. “I have to talk to Ms Jake. Catch you later.” I pat him on the shoulder and move forward to Ms. Jake who’s kindly watching our interaction.

I have to remind myself to be as polite as possible. My defenses go up quickly for myself and my daughter.

I wasn’t exactly heartbroken when Adeline’s mom left us, but it still hurt.

If I’m being honest, I wasn’t in love with her, but I also wasn’t the guarded man I am now.

I gave that marriage an honest chance. I cared for her the way a good husband should, but every effort was met with the same outcome.

When she left, she didn’t just walk away—she closed me off from a part of myself.

I’d let my guard down, made myself vulnerable, and even though she never truly had my heart, the rejection cut deeper than I expected.

It awakened something primal in me, an instinct to protect myself from ever feeling that exposed again.

I know that protection often comes across as bluntness or indifference, but it’s served me well enough.

After what’s felt like an eternity, I’ve made it to Ms. Jake. “Mr. Von, good evening. It’s great to finally meet you.”

I can already feel my defenses working their way up my back from her voice alone.

“It’s good to meet you too, Ms. Jake,” I reply.

We shake hands, and hers are so small and delicate that an irrational part of me wants to hold and protect them forever. Instead, I let go far sooner than I’d like.

I’m intrigued, and I absolutely cannot be.

I’m a smart, logical man. But, whatever is happening to me right now is neither smart nor logical.

She folds her hands neatly in front of herself, her shoulders drawing in just enough to make it seem like she’s trying to disappear. Or protect herself. It’s such timid body language.

“I'm looking forward to having your daughter in my class this year,” she says. “I’ve seen Adeline a lot during recess duty, and she’s such a sweet girl.”

If someone told me we were the only two people left in this classroom, I’d believe them. I’m aware it’s a trick my mind is playing on me since the quiet hum of conversations continues all around us. But somehow, none of it reaches me.

“You’re doing a great job with her,” Ms. Jake adds.

It hits me then that she is too kind, too luminous for my darkness. It sounds melodramatic, but it's the truth. The only person who gets my kindness is my daughter, and that’s all I have room for.

I already hate myself for what I’m about to do.

Keeping Evangeline at a distance is going to be difficult. But it’ll be for the best.

“Thank you.” The words are kind, but the tone is curt.

I can tell I’ve already landed my first blow when I see her reel back just slightly. The tiny shift in her expression twists something in my chest. I feel relieved and disgusted with myself all at once.

I don’t want to be this man.

But this isn’t only about me. It’s about Adeline too. The tenderness in Evangeline’s voice whenever she mentions my daughter, the admiration she already has for a little girl she barely knows—it feels naturally magnetic with a force I can’t explain.

Maybe nothing would ever come of whatever this is. Maybe if I let myself become interested in Ms. Jake, she’d never return the feeling.

That isn’t a risk I’m willing to take.

“I’m not sure if the administration has told you yet, but Adeline has some learning difficulties that are going to require extra support.” My arms are folded across my chest. If Evangeline’s posture is open despite her nervousness, mine is a fortress.

“They did at the beginning of the summer when they were discussing class placement.” She readjusted herself, leaning back on her desk and every instinct I have snaps to attention. Just that small change in posture sends a slow, heavy pressure settling low in my gut.

“I’ve worked with students in the past who have had dyslexia,” she continues. “But I like to stay up with current studies and practices. I spent a good part of the summer researching updated analysis of dyslexia so I can help her.”

Son of a…

That’s the last thing I want to hear.

“Great, well, I’m glad an educator would be able to meet the needs of every kind of learner.”

Here it goes.

The violent spiral.

The dam breaks, and there’s no holding back the deluge now.

One of her eyebrows lifts just enough that most people would miss it. I don’t. I’ve been watching her too closely for that. But just as quickly, she smooths the reaction away, and I silently curse the man I am—and the man I keep choosing to be.

“I am certainly equipped to help each of my students, and if there’s ever an area where I’m not, I make it a point to do the research until I am.” Her tone has changed. It’s still polite, still professional, but there’s a firmness to it now. A boundary.

Around us, parents mingle while students drift through the room, studying birthday charts and searching for their desks. Adeline would be here too, but she's with her nanny since I came straight from work.

Hearing this woman talk about how she goes above and beyond for her students drives a stake into my heart. It doesn’t just speak to her work ethic, but her compassion as well.

Both are admirable.

Both are dangerous.

I have to shut this down and leave.

“I’m very particular about being kept in the loop with Adeline’s progress. Past teachers have dropped the ball, leaving me to pick up the slack. That is not something I want repeated this year. I’m hoping I’m not asking too much when I expect communication and dedication.”

I tell myself I’m being abrasive for Addie’s sake.

But that’s a lie.

Ms. Jake pushes herself away from the desk and folds her arms across her chest. I keep my eyes where they belong, though my peripheral vision has other ideas.

She’s defensive now.

Exactly where I wanted her.

Or maybe it’s not, because her defensive side also feels fun. And I absolutely shouldn’t want to have fun with my daughter’s teacher.

“Well, Mr. Von,” she says evenly. “I pride myself on keeping communication open with my students’ families.

If you have any additional concerns, please feel free to email me.

My contact information is on the welcome sheet by the front of the classroom.

” She gestures toward the table near the door, and I can tell it’s a dismissal.

“I have some more parents to meet. I hope you have a wonderful evening.”

Yup. Dismissed.

She walks away without another glance.

I watch her intently, and even though I don’t know her extremely well, her body language seems like it's off. It feels like a contradiction of confidence and exhaustion, and I scold myself for doing that to her.

She greets a couple, shakes the mom’s hand, and smiles warmly. Then the dad extends his hand out, and Ms. Jake flinches.

Not subtly.

Not the kind of startled movement anyone could explain away.

Like something deep inside of her thought that man was going to hurt her.

It lasts less than a second before she smooths it over with another practiced smile, but I saw it.

Someone taught her to fear a man's touch, and that thought lands in my chest like a stone.

It isn't my business or my responsibility. So why does every instinct I have insist otherwise? Why does it feel like my problem.

I tear my eyes away, collect myself, and leave the classroom.

This is going to be a long school year.