Chapter 5
Celine
With my eyes closed, I took a deep breath, attempting to steady myself. I was a professional. I just needed to get my head together.
The kids were in the cafeteria with coloring pages, iPads, and enough snacks to last them several hours. Ellie could handle things while I got my classroom set up, and when we got here, Julian and I had walked back and forth to my room three times so he knew where to find me.
It took forty-five minutes to get them prepped and for me to set expectations, but I was finally ready to start my day.
My classroom was at the end of a long hallway that had been decorated with cheery signs.
A rainbow stripe cut down the middle of the linoleum floor, leading me to an old-school classroom with super high ceilings, giant industrial windows, and a few inches of dust on every surface.
The room was filled with out-of-date materials, and there were a few broken chairs, but on the far wall, the holy grail.
A brand-new smartboard.
I smiled. A work in progress didn’t scare me.
After years of desperately missing the classroom, every first day felt so special.
By the time I was in first grade, I’d known I wanted to be a teacher.
Ms. McDonald was the kindest, most patient woman, and she taught me to read and write my name and to love being at school.
I perused the classroom, inspecting the materials and equipment, letting excitement wash over me. Getting this place set up would take a while, but it already felt like home.
The tiny mismatched chairs never failed to make me smile, and the faded alphabet posters were familiar and comforting. The weather chart complete with Velcro icons and a big rug for circle time were bonuses.
The space came alive as I wandered, envisioning where I’d create the calm down corner and where I’d set up sensory bins and the rotating choice stations.
There was even a dusty terrarium on an old industrial shelf.
It had probably once housed a class pet, though now it was empty.
I giggled as I passed it, remembering Julian’s eager suggestion that I get a class tarantula.
I pulled a notebook from my bag and jotted down notes, making lists of supplies I’d need and wondering if there was a supply closet in the building I could raid.
“You made it!”
At the cheerful greeting, I turned finding Callie Mayhew-Beauregard, my new principal, bursting into the room, iced coffee in one hand, a clipboard in the other.
I smoothed down my navy shorts. They weren’t the most professional, but my selection of clothing was limited, and it was unbearably hot this week. The end of August in Vermont was no joke.
“I’m so pleased you’re here.” With a warm smile, she approached and pulled me into a hug.
It took effort not to tense up in response. I wasn’t much of a hugger. At one time, years ago, I had been, but now I struggled with physical touch.
My sleeveless blouse and shorts combo had looked cute this morning, but now I was feeling sticky and gross.
Callie, on the other hand, looked like a wilderness goddess. All long hair, a flowy maxi dress in a funky print, and a diamond stud in her nose.
She was unlike any principal I’d ever met. But her energy was calming, which I could imagine helped when dealing with parents and students.
“This room was used for storage for a long time.” Hands on her hips, she assessed the space.
“This is the first time we’ve added a second kindergarten class. It’s wild, really. It’s the largest incoming class in town history. You came at a good time.”
“Thanks for letting me bring my kids,” I said, wiping off a dusty shelf.
She probably thought I was a weirdo when I’d asked if they could tag along today. But without friends or family to keep an eye on them, this was my only option. Because there was no way I could leave them home alone. It was hard enough that they were halfway across the building now.
“No problem. When I walked by the cafeteria, they were quiet and seemed content. I’m jealous, honestly. Mine are here too, though they’re probably off setting small fires as we speak.”
Though my first thought was that she was joking, the way she took a drag from her iced coffee indicated that maybe she was serious.
“I have twin boys. They’re ten, and they’re feral. Yesterday one tried to skateboard off the school steps while the other one livestreamed it.”
My stomach sank. “That sounds … dangerous.”
“It is. They are why I meditate. And why I drink green juice that tastes like lawn clippings. Oh, and why I’m on a first-name basis with every individual who works in the emergency room.”
Though I was a little shocked by her admission and maybe the oversharing as well, her self-depreciating humor was disarming.
“I feel you,” I said. “Three kids. One is neurodiverse. Divorced. Starting over in a new state.”
Her lips tipped up in a genuine smile. “We’re going to be friends, just so you know. It’s nonnegotiable.”
An unfamiliar warmth flickered in my chest, but I sighed and lowered my head. “I don’t know if I have the time or the energy for friends.”
“That’s fine. We’ll just stand next to each other at school events and laugh about all the weird stuff later.”
A little chuckle worked its way out of me. “Okay, that I can do.”
“You may not see it yet, but you picked a great place. I promise—” At the sound of a noise behind her, she spun. “Ooh. My reinforcements are here!”
Two women wandered into the room, both smiling. The younger of the two had a bouncy ponytail and the other was carrying a large bakery box.
“Celine LeBlanc, this,” Callie said, holding out an arm, “is Stella Stone. She teaches first grade.”
Dressed in paint-splattered cutoffs and a cheery yellow T-shirt that hung off one shoulder, the younger woman held out her hand.
“I am so excited to meet you,” she squealed. “And I’m here to work. We want you ready for the first day.”
“This is Ashley Wilton.”
The other woman put the box down and scooped me into a hug. She looked to be in her early fifties and had a gray streak in her dark hair that looked natural but surprisingly fashionable.
“Callie has told us so much about you.” She stepped back after the awkward embrace and grinned.
“Fourth grade. I brought muffins and my toolbox. We’re going to fix all these wobbly chairs for you.
” With a wave, she gestured to the bakery box.
“I figured since you just got into town and don’t have much time to get your classroom set up, you could use emotional support carbs. ”
I opened my mouth to thank them and to insist they didn’t need to go out of their way, but before I could speak, my stomach rumbled. I hadn’t eaten breakfast, and everyone was now aware, so I decided not to fight it.
“Maple walnut,” Stella said. “The specialty at Bean There, Done That. You will not be disappointed.”
Ashley opened the box, and as I stepped closer, my mouth watered. Okay, yes, those looked incredible. They were also the size of my head, but I had a lot of work to get done, so I could use the calories.
I handed one to Callie, who bit into it with an exaggerated sigh of relief, then snagged one for myself.
When the flavor registered, my eyes rolled to the back of my head. Damn, this muffin was heaven.
Ashley got right to work, inspecting every tiny table and chair and making adjustments. Stella jumped right into cleaning out the large storage closet and sorting the materials.
“We’ve got a supply closet down the hall you can raid,” Callie said. “I’ll let you check out the new shipment of crayons first.”
Setup went a lot faster with help. I showed them the signs I’d made and explained how I wanted the cork boards decorated and the zones set up, and the three of them got to work without questioning my choices or adding their own opinions.
Pretty quickly, I found myself having fun. The girls gave me necessary information about the school and the students and explained the upcoming Harvest Festival. I soaked in as many details as I could.
They mentioned the local waterfall but didn’t go into the legend that supposedly went with it. And they laughed about how everyone had thought a set of trash cans had been vandalized, only to find out they’d been raided by a bear.
This was the second time a citizen of Maplewood had mentioned bears. Internally, I grimaced. “Do we need to worry about bears a lot?”
Callie turned and smiled. “Worry, no? But you need to be aware.”
“Bear aware.” Stella giggled. “Sorry. It’s an inside joke. Our mayor does this whole ‘be bear aware’ program every year and it’s kind of hilarious.”
I frowned, not following.
“Our mayor,” Callie said. “He’s very…”
“Hot,” Stella blurted, her face flushing.
“But unintentionally hilarious,” Ashley finished. “He’s very earnest and serious. A total boy scout, and it’s a treat, watching him demonstrate how to scare off a bear. You’ll see. Are you coming to the town meeting next week?”
I pressed my lips together. “Town meeting?”
“Yup. First Tuesday of the month,” she responded. “It’s kind of a requirement here.”
“I don’t have a sitter,” I said, turned off by the idea that people were forced to participate. I was not one for civic engagement. In fact, my plan when I made the decision to move here was to lie low.
Not that it was working at all so far.
“Kids are welcome,” Callie said. “Trust me. It’s educational.”
With a forced smile, I nodded. I’d figure out how to avoid it later.
“Anyway, his name is Gabe,” she went on waggling her brows, “or Mayor McHottie, as Stella likes to call him.”
Stella rolled her eyes.
Callie cackled. “She’s had a crush on him since middle school.”
“Ooh. You’ll probably see him at the farm,” Ashley said. “He grew up on the farm next door. He’s your landlord’s cousin.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Stella chirped. “You’re renting from Josh Lawrence.”
Shoulders tensing, I nodded and left it at that. The last thing I wanted was to discuss my confusing and somewhat infuriating landlord.