Chapter 3
Chapter three
Jake
Posted By: DADvertising
Also does anyone have any potential ideas for fundraisers or events to save a local business? Marketing? Anything?
Reply From: UncleSam
I’m in web design, and my old friend/new boyfriend and I are currently working our butts off to restore our town’s website and bring the financials back into the black as far as tourism is concerned. We came up with a contest idea. Message me for more details.
Also, in answer to your previous question, I think the fear that you might accidentally screw up your child’s future is a constant presence when you’re a parent. I don’t have much advice, just know that a lot of us are in that same boat.
Reply From: TeenDaddy
I often feel like I’m ruining my daughter’s life.
Having her at seventeen makes me feel like she started at a disadvantage.
Her parents didn’t have stable jobs and their life together.
My parents kicked me out, me and her mother were still in high school, and now she doesn’t even have a mother left.
So yeah, I get you. And I definitely get your fears. Unfortunately, I don’t have great advice about coping strategies. I’m just doing my best to give my daughter a stable life. Knowing I’m doing all I can and giving it my all helps a little.
As for the fundraisers, I don’t have a lot of ideas. But you could try looking into getting the dojo grants for funding (I do know my daughter’s dance studio got a grant from a local charity last year).
I closed my laptop and sighed.
The house was too quiet with Emerson at her mother’s house.
It always felt like that. I missed the patter of her feet running around, the noise of her cartoons playing on the TV, and the sound of her little voice asking for a snack.
These nights were always the hardest. You’d think, after almost two years, I’d have gotten used to them by now.
That maybe I’d even be grateful for the quiet.
Instead, I just felt lonely.
I tried to think of things to do. I cleaned the kitchen. I vacuumed the living room. I asked for advice about the dojo from the single dad forum I’d joined when Emerson was younger and I was completely lost. I’d even done all of Emerson’s laundry. I was now at a loss.
My eyes moved to my phone. I’d left my meeting with Mateo only a few hours before, and I was tempted to text him. Except I had nothing new to offer, no new ideas. I’d not gotten any feedback from the forum yet. I opened my laptop to check again.
When I did, there were still no responses.
I navigated to Mateo’s website and started making detailed notes on things that could be improved.
It didn’t take long before I started putting the improvements in place, just to kill time.
A few hours later, I finished. The site didn’t require nearly as many updates as I thought it would when I’d first started making notes.
I’d updated the font and colors. I’d changed a little of the layout, making it friendlier to people who weren’t using computers.
I even grabbed pictures from the dojo’s social media to show what the kids would be learning.
There were other parts that just had placeholder text.
I wanted to add a more personal touch: feedback from other parents or children, sections about the senseis at the dojo, little things like that.
The human element could make all the difference to a parent who was looking into the school for the first time.
My eyes drifted back to my cell phone, and this time, I had an excuse to text Mateo.
Jake
I made an updated version of the website.
Show you on Monday?
I stared at my phone, willing him to answer my text.
When he didn’t answer right away, I forced myself to put the phone down.
He was young. He probably had something to do that night, something with his friends.
He probably had a life outside of his job.
Wouldn’t that be a novel concept? What did I have, outside of work and Emerson?
I had a few friends—mostly people that I knew from the office and a guy I’d known since university—but they weren’t the kind of friends I could just send a message to when I was bored.
My life felt as empty as my house.
I sighed again and turned on the television. I might not live an exciting life, but I could watch shows where other people did.
Mateo texted back on Sunday, just as Emerson got home.
I sent him a quick message making plans to talk to him after Emerson’s class the next day.
She wouldn’t mind sticking around the dojo, practicing with her friends or running around like a maniac.
She’d never once minded extra time spent in the dojo, and I didn’t think she would start now.
When her class finally came around, I noticed my eyes drifting to her teacher more than usual. Strands of hair fell into his dark eyes, escaping his ponytail. His skin glistened with sweat as he helped students practice kicks and punches.
I shouldn’t be watching him the way that I was. He was Emerson’s teacher.
I forced myself to watch my daughter instead.
I took note of the way her little face scrunched as she tried to remember the kata she and her friend had worked so hard on and fought back a laugh after she stomped one of her feet when she forgot what came next in the sequence.
I’d seen that look of frustration more times than I could count, and I knew she’d work through it.
Either that, or it’d motivate her to work harder, to spend the time I talked to Mateo after her class going through it over and over again until she perfected every move.
I watched as Mateo noticed too, saw the way he worked with her to guide her through each move. I couldn’t hear anything that he said to her, but I watched the way her face lit up when she finally got the progression right.
If I’d thought Mateo was attractive before, it didn’t compare to how I was looking at him right now.
This was going to be a problem.
I busied myself with my phone, reading a few work emails while class finished. When the class ended, I sent Emerson into the smaller dojo and met Mateo at his desk.
“Alright, let me see what you’ve got,” he requested as he settled into his seat.
I pulled my laptop out of its bag and opened it on his desk, angling it between us where we could both see the screen. I watched as Mateo positioned himself better to view it before he groaned. “Okay, this angle isn’t working for me. Bring the chair over here?”
I picked up the chair I was sitting in and rounded the desk.
It was cramped quarters, and I could feel the heat radiating off him.
Every time I inhaled, the air was flavored with the smell of his sweat.
I fought the urge to lean closer to him before remembering that it would be a disaster.
I put my focus on the website, showing him everything I’d worked on Saturday night.
I walked him through the changes that I’d made, even though he could see them.
It was habit at this point, a step in the process my brain refused to skip.
“The pictures are great,” he commented as we went through the site. I’d chosen a different one for each individual page, with a rotating carousel of images on the home page. I smiled at the compliment.
“Thanks. I thought they might show off a bit of the culture of the dojo. I know as a parent, that’s something I want to see.
” I navigated to the page where I’d left spaces for each of the senseis’ biographies.
“I think some information about the staff might help, too. I took a chance on you without knowing your credentials until I got here, but some parents might not be willing to do that.”
“What made you take the chance?”
“Good reviews online,” I told him bluntly.
“If we could get some testimonials on the site, it might help people who are looking for reviews. Cut out the step of looking elsewhere.” I watched him as he looked over the website again.
I navigated to the page I’d designed for testimonials and leaned back in my seat.
“Not everyone is going to go as in depth as I did. They’re going to choose the site that gives them all the information in one go.
You want to make the site easy to navigate, visually appealing, and informative without overwhelming potential clients. ”
“I’m guessing overwhelming them is bad?”
“That’s really bad. It’s a delicate balance.”
“And this site has it?”
“I think so.” He didn’t look impressed with the modest answer, and I didn’t blame him.
He was the kind of man that radiated confidence, and I needed to do the same to earn his trust in this project.
I took a deep breath. “The upgraded site has more information, and it’s laid out in a more cohesive sense.
The contact page is fixed at the bottom, but it’s also programmed to include what page they sent the contact from. ”
“And that’s good?”
“It will tell you when they decided to make the jump so you can focus on that. For instance, if someone sends you a message from the Schedule page, you can emphasize the flexible class options. If they reach out from the About Us page, then you can talk to them about the combined experience of your staff.” He looked overwhelmed.
“I’ll write you some simple starters. Then all you have to do is fill in the middle part where you answer their questions. ”
He nodded. “That sounds easy enough.” He reached over me to thumb at the track pad.
I watched as his long, slender fingers moved around and began to navigate the website on his own.
He didn’t say anything as he clicked through each of the pages one more time.
“I like it,” he declared with a small smile.
“I’ll get you the bios for me and Sophia and ask if anyone’s willing to give us some testimonials. ”
“Perfect. Once we have that, I can plug it all in and make the switch.”
“How long will that take?”
“Well, it’s already on your host. I just turn those pages live and turn off the other pages.”
“So, it’s just a push of a button?” Mateo asked, one eyebrow cocked. How did he look more handsome that way?
“Whenever you’re ready.” I thought better of my words for a moment. “And whenever we have the missing parts.”
Mateo’s laughter filled the small lobby of the dojo.
He had a warm laugh, and I felt it in my bones.
I didn’t think I’d ever noticed how warm his laugh was in the past. I’d never paid a lot of attention to it, but then, he didn’t laugh a lot with the children.
He had to be the teacher, the serious adult presence in the room.
“Besides the website, have you thought of any other ideas?” Mateo questioned.
“Not as many as I’d like,” I admitted. I felt like I was letting him down.
With my other clients, I was a fast thinker.
I came up with ideas quickly, and I always had things to present by the first meeting.
Of course, most of those weren’t for events.
They weren’t for something tangible, like saving a local business so my daughter had a place to continue doing karate.
It was a horse of a different color. It didn’t mean I wanted to let him down, or that I felt any differently than I would if he’d been a paying client that I was saying those words to.
Mateo nodded. “What do you have?”
I pulled up the document on my computer where I’d been drafting ideas.
There’d been a few from the parenting board, and there were a few that I’d come up with on my own.
Mateo read over my shoulder, and I wished I was a mind reader.
I wanted to know what thoughts were going on behind his deep brown eyes.
I wanted to make sure I wasn’t letting him down by not having more already.
“Tell me more about this one,” he requested, pointing to one I’d labeled as Buddy Night.
It was an idea I’d found online from a dojo in another state.
It seemed like a good one, even if it didn’t play out the same way I was imagining in my mind.
“One of the best ways to get more money is to get more students, right?” I asked.
He nodded in confirmation. “Then to do that, we need to get more people in the door. Buddy Night is a way to do it. You invite the students to bring a friend. They get a free class, and hopefully, their parents like the free class and sign them up.”
Mateo grinned a wild grin. “That’s a great idea.
It doesn’t cost much, except maybe having a second teacher per class.
Which I want to do eventually anyway if the classes get a bit bigger.
” I could see the wheels turning as he thought the idea over in his head.
“Maybe we should do more than one night?”
“I mean more nights just mean more people… or more chances of people, at least,” I agreed. I highlighted the idea and turned it green. That was one of the most promising ideas on my list.
Mateo’s phone chimed. I watched as he looked down at the screen. “Shit,” he muttered.
“Everything okay?” Alarm bells rang in my head.
Mateo pushed his chair back away from the desk. “Yeah, Sophia just texted. Her car broke down, and she needs a ride. You okay if we cut this meeting short?”
“Yeah. We can pick up after Emerson’s next class. Go help your friend.” The words came easily, and while I did feel slightly disappointed, I knew it was the right thing.
Mateo hesitated. “I can’t after her next class. I’ve got plans.” He shifted in his seat. If I didn’t know better, I’d think that he was nervous. I’d never seen Mateo nervous before. Maybe he wasn’t and I was just reading too much into it. Maybe he was just antsy and wanted to get to Sophia.
“We can figure it out later.” I stood up and started toward the small dojo where Emerson was still diligently practicing, watching herself in the mirror as she went through the routine Mateo had taught her, her lips moving as she muttered to herself.
I was about to call for her when Mateo’s voice sounded from behind me. “Maybe we could get together some other day this week? I could…” I heard him pull in a deep breath. “I could come over to your place?”
“Sounds great.”
I ignored the niggling feeling in my gut that said this could be a bad idea. It was already becoming hard not to think about my daughter’s sensei in inappropriate ways. Should I really be risking hanging out with him at my home?
But then, could I risk not doing it if it meant saving the dojo?