7. Giselle #3
“Sometimes, when people are especially happy, they cry,” Mr. Poynter said, grabbing the smaller, non-reclining chair and sliding it over next to his son. “And that’s okay.”
“I didn’t know that could happen. Is that a human thing or a sh?—”
“All of us can do that,” he continued gently. “Humans, animals, you name it.”
Benny looked back at me, and his small eyebrows unfurled while a tentative smile spread across his cherubic features. “I’m really glad that I could make you happy, Miss Fischbacher. You’re the best teacher I’ve ever had.”
“You’ve only had one other teacher, my dear,” I said after he surprised a sharp laugh out of me.
“Yeah, and you’re the best. So there!”
“Thank you very much, sweetie. I’m so happy to have you in my class. And I hope you know I mean that.”
“’Course! You only ever say what you mean.” Another pause as his gaze flicked from me, to his dad, and then back to the book in his hands. “So… was that a yes to reading?”
“It was a very enthusiastic yes,” I said, leaning back on the pillows. “I would love to hear your favorite book.”
“Awesome! Okay, lemme get settled.”
He wriggled around, his feet swinging off the floor because of the height of the recliner, but that didn’t seem to distract him as he slowly and intently began to read to me a story about an herbivore dinosaur trying to find his pack again.
Honestly, after a couple of pages, I was quite impressed by how quickly he could rattle off all the complicated dinosaur names.
When I glanced at his dad after he’d nailed Pachycephalosaurus, Mr. Poynter just grinned proudly at me, clearly pleased with his son’s verbal prowess.
Benny was far from my first student who was into dinos, but he was certainly the first I’d heard easily pronounce a seven-syllable name.
It wasn’t a long book—children’s books never were—but Benny read relatively slowly when he wasn’t enunciating Latin classifications of giant lizards, so for twenty minutes, I lay there, occasionally closing my eyes and listening to a lonely Hypsilophodon run across an entire territory to find his family again.
It was a sweet and funny story with great illustrations, so I could see why he dug it so much.
“Thank you,” I murmured once he finished, stood, and took a small bow. “That was very fun, Benny.”
“I knew you would like it.”
“Really? Why’s that?”
“Well, you know a lot about everything, so I figured you’d already know all the dinos.
I tried sharing this with Mickey, but he said their names were too annoying and there wasn’t enough T-Rex.
” The way his nose wrinkled at the mention of T-rex had me chuckling.
“He doesn’t even really know about the shrink-wrapping stuff or feathers! ”
“Well, most people don’t know about shrink-wrapping,” I said, and I was quite surprised that Benny did.
It wasn’t a common term, at least not when used with dinos, but it was the phenomenon where many artists tended to depict dinosaurs with minimal flesh and bulk, like their skin was shrink - wrapped over their bones.
“And a lot of people don’t realize that many of the birds we see today are actual living dinosaurs. ”
Benny beamed at me, like I’d just told him I was throwing him his own personal pizza party. “See, Dad! I told you she would know all about dinos!”
“I never doubted you for a second.” He grinned so warmly at his son that I knew they had a great relationship.
Not that I had doubted it, but it was nice to see the evidence.
Back during the parent-teacher conference, I could tell he had been nervous and worried, rather than defensive or irritated, which some parents were when I had to message them about their children’s needs.
“Think you’re ready to go and let Miss Fischbacher take a nap? ”
“I gotta go potty first.” He looked at me, and it was just like being back in class. “May I use your bathroom?”
“Of course you may, Benny. Thank you for asking.”
I wasn’t in a private room, but the other side of the space was empty. Apparently, that patient had been discharged an hour after I’d come in.
“Thanks!”
He jumped off the recliner and rushed to the bathroom, leaving me alone with his father.
His sweet and handsome father.
Gulp.
“He might be a minute,” Mr. Poynter said, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled.
He wasn’t flawlessly perfect, which was what made him that much more appealing to me.
He had some lines on his forehead, and his nose was a touch too big for his face, yet somehow it all fit together so perfectly.
“The doc says it’s not a big issue, but it takes him around fifteen minutes to go number two. ”
“That’s fine,” I said, trying to keep my tone light. Why was I so nervous? “I’m not exactly in a rush.”
“What, you mean you don’t have an urgent appointment right after this?”
“’Fraid not. I canceled my interview with Barbara Walters just an hour ago.”
“How fortuitous.” A confused expression so identical to Benny’s crossed his face, and it was hard for me not to laugh again. “Wait, isn’t she dead?”
“Yeah, she is. The interview was supposed to be over Zoom.”
A loud bark of laughter erupted from his mouth. It was a joyous, booming sound, and it seemed to surprise him just as much as it did me.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be that loud. I just wasn’t expecting that.” He chuckled again, shaking his head. “I guess they get good Wi-Fi in the afterlife?”
“I suppose it depends on where you’re sent. Imagine an eternity with intermittent signal while you’re trying to watch YouTube.”
“Are you sure you’re not actually Satan? Because that sounds like Hell.”
I shrugged, knowing I was grinning like a loon and really not caring.
It was nice to joke around with an adult who wasn’t a colleague or related to me.
I’d been so caught up in all of the school stuff that I hadn’t really been social with anyone but Grandma Mack.
“Well, ya know, the American education system can share a lot of parallels with infernal torment.”
That got another laugh out of him. God, I wanted to make him burst out with laughter as much as I could.
It was likely the last time we’d ever talk—as long as Benny’s time in the art program went well—so I wanted to make it memorable.
And I supposed it was my insecurity whispering that he wouldn’t notice my sallow cheeks, the bags under my eyes, and my thin hair that barely made a braid if I made him laugh hard enough.
“You know, I have heard some horror stories. I couldn’t do that. It’s why I decided not to homeschool.”
“Oh, were you going to?” I asked, more than curious.
“It’s a tradition with most shi— uh, of my family. But I decided it wasn’t right for our situation. But, if he wants to later in his educational career, I’ll make it work.”
I studied him again, looking past the handsome exterior and trying to get a full read on him around the butterflies in my stomach. I didn’t know what was getting to me with all the twitterpation, but I liked to think I could look past it for actual, adult conversation.
“I think it’s great that you’d be willing to let him make that choice.”
“Well, you know, not everyone has the option to be available for something like that. But our situation is unusual in a lot of different ways.”
“Yes, I would imagine so.” I probably shouldn’t have commented on it further, but I couldn’t help myself. “It’s a very different situation, but I lost my mother when I was young too. Not as young as Benny, but you know, too soon.” I let out a sigh. “It’s always too soon.”
For the briefest moment, the anxious part of me wanted to ignore his gaze and stare at the wall, but the part of me that always craved genuine connection looked up to meet his eyes.
Fuck.
I hadn’t expected him to be beaming at me, but even so, I was not prepared for the depth of emotion in the cerulean depths of his eyes.
I saw pain. I saw longing. I saw anger. But I also saw bittersweet melancholy and erstwhile nostalgia.
I knew those last two very well: the pain of missing someone so lovely combined with the inevitable march of happy memories they left behind.
My mother had both made mistakes and been horribly mistreated, but she had also brought so much joy in my childhood.
No matter how our story had turned out, I was so incredibly grateful that she’d been my mom.
“It’s not easy.”
“No. I would never say it is.”
“Do you mind…” Time for another pause. It seemed that Benny, I, and Mr. Poynter all needed a second or two to decide on the best words. After all, there were so many of them. “How did she pass?”
“The same sickness I have,” I answered honestly, which I hadn’t been expecting to do.
Normally, I just said she was ill because I didn’t really want to get into it, but something about Mr. Poynter made me want to open up to him.
And it wasn’t because he was hot or completely jacked.
It was the softness with which he looked at his son, and the clear devotion he had to what was left of his family.
His eyebrows shot up to his hairline, and all the color drained from his face. “But you told Benny you?—”
“Oh, no, no, no, I’ll be fine!” I said, a little taken aback by how horrified he’d looked.
It was like he genuinely cared. “My mother had a hard time getting diagnosed, and it was more than a decade ago, so the treatment wasn’t as good.
Also, there was so much damage to her heart by the time she was diagnosed, that there was only so much that could be done. ”
“I… I’m so sorry.” He didn’t speak for a long moment, and I felt no need to fill the air. Sometimes, it was okay to just be quiet and listen. “That couldn’t have been easy, watching that progression.”
“No, it wasn’t.” I didn’t know what possessed me, but I reached out and offered my hand.
Mr. Poynter took it, shooting me a grateful look.
“Please understand that when I say I’m here for whatever support the two of you need, I really mean it.
While I don’t know exactly what you’re going through, I do have a good idea, Mr. Poynter. ”
“Please, I’ve told you to call me Ben.”
“All right then, Ben.” A sappy smile spread over my lips. I was feeling quite fond of the father of the student who had basically saved my life, and maybe it wasn’t that strange.
He was kind; he was handsome; he loved his son; and he’d brought me the biggest gift basket I’d ever had. And as someone who’d lost their mother and been hospitalized several times since my senior year, I’d received a lot of gift baskets.
Our hands stayed clasped, and we stared into each other’s eyes. I knew I was getting too caught up in the fantasy going on in my head, because it felt like I was having my own meet-cute in a romance movie. Except Mr. Poy— Ben and I had already met, and he was the parent of one of my students.
It wasn’t completely forbidden for teachers to date a single parent, but it was messy.
And it reminded me of a crass phrase Grandma Mack had once muttered when one of her landscapers had asked her to dinner: Don’t shit where you eat .
So yeah, I was definitely getting carried away. It wasn’t even like I had time to date.
The toilet flushed, and we broke apart. I could have sworn I saw the faintest flush of color on his cheeks as we separated.
Man, was I delulu? I wasn’t exactly a bombshell, and even though I was trying to be nice to myself like Nox had asked, I knew the reality of the situation.
I looked far too much like a withered old lady for someone as handsome and charming as Ben to be attracted to.
He probably liked someone with muscle, who could keep up with him. Or someone with plenty of curves.
“Hey there, buddy,” he said, standing. “You wanna pack up your book so we can head out?”
“Sure! Thank you for letting us visit, Missus Fischbacher.”
“Thank you for visiting! I can’t wait to snack on all the lovely treats you got me after my nap.”
“Okie dokie! We’re all gonna miss you in class, but make sure you rest, okay?”
I gave the young man a salute. “Just like Natalie said.”
“You remembered!”
“Come on, Junior. We’ve taken up enough of your teacher’s time. Besides, I know Veronica is probably anxious to have you back home.”
“Goodbye, Missus Fischbacher!”
“Goodbye, Benny.”
“Goodbye, Miss Fischbacher,” Ben said. My stomach swooped at the warm smile he gave me.
“Please,” I said, trying to mimic his exact tone from earlier. “Call me Giselle.”
I didn’t quite have a word for the expression that crossed through his features, but I hadn’t seen it before.
“Giselle?”
Panic tightened my chest. “Of course you don’t have to, if that’s too informal.”
“No, it’s fine. It’s a pretty name. Don’t hear it too often nowadays.”
“My mother was a bit old-fashioned.”
“Old-fashioned, perhaps, but clearly she had good taste.”
And then he winked at me.
Holy shit on a stick. It was a simple motion, basically a twitch of the eye, and yet it had my cheeks flushing and my heart hammering. If I didn’t know any better, I would think I was about to have a thyroid storm again.
But I wasn’t. Obviously, I was crushing on the widowed father of one of my students. Although he didn’t seem to mind so far, it wasn’t exactly professional.
I didn’t know what to say, so I just laughed. And then he gave me a gentlemanly nod while his son waved enthusiastically.
“Bye!” Benny said again as they walked out the door.
“Bye!” I called back once I found my voice again.
The whole exchange had me feeling equal parts giddy and embarrassed.
I was acting like a girl who had never flirted before rather than the twenty-seven-year-old woman I was.
But Ben didn’t seem to mind it. And while I struggled a lot with self-confidence, I couldn’t imagine any other reason he’d wink at me like that.
It had to mean something, right? Even if it seemed impossible for someone like him to have chemistry with someone like me.
With all that going on in my head, I wasn’t exactly paying attention to my mouth. So maybe that, or maybe a side effect of my medication, had me speaking up right as they were about to close the door.
“Ben, would you want to get dinner sometime?”
It was like the entire world froze. He stood there, eyes wide.
This time it didn’t even take a second for the panic to set in.
It was instantaneous. What had I done? It was one thing to flirt—multiple studies had shown that both males and females only had a fifty-percent success rate in being able to tell if someone was flirting with them or not—it was another thing entirely to ask out the grieving father of one of my students.
“I’m so—” I started.
“Actually, I’d love to.”