Chapter 4 Regrets and Repercussions
Chapter Four: Regrets and Repercussions
It had been a week since the coffee incident and Hannah Snow was still ignoring him.
Even though he’d very generously apologized with what he knew were her favorites from Cupcake on Main.
He was tempted to corner her again, like he had at the Christmas party last year so she’d have an actual conversation with him.
When he set his knapsack in his chair, he noticed a neon pink post-it note stuck to his desk. He recognized the scrawl of the principal. See me during lunch.
Graham groaned because lunch was always his break from the noise of the classroom.
The sight that greeted him when he strolled into the central office wasn’t what he’d expected.
Hannah Snow sat in one of the chairs across from Principal Miller’s desk, her white-knuckled hands clasped in her lap.
Her mouth was set in a grim line and she didn’t even bother turning her head when he walked in.
“I’ve called the two of you in here because you’re causing dissension in the ranks. Your very obvious feud and loathing of each other is forcing everyone to choose sides. We have a bunch of moody teenagers to teach and I want to stop the high school drama unfolding here, not add to it.”
“It isn’t loathing,” Graham protested.
The principal leveled a glare at the two of them.
“It isn’t.” Hannah insisted.
“Well, then you need to figure out what it is. I’m tired of the disruption your animosity is causing.”
Graham cleared his throat. “It’s a private matter. We never intended to make your job harder.”
Mrs. Miller snorted. “Then it’s time to make it up to me. We should have already been planning the staff Christmas party, but no one volunteered to do it. I’m assigning it to the two of you and I want you to collaborate and plan it for the last Thursday before Christmas.”
“You want us to plan a party together?”
The wrinkle in Hannah Snow’s brow probably matched his own.
“What makes you think this will convince us to bury the hatchet?” Graham asked as he folded his arms across his chest.
“If you can’t work this out,” she pointed between them. “Then you’re both on detention duty for the whole rest of the year.”
No one wanted Saturday detention duty because the extra pay wasn’t worth ruining your weekend. And Graham knew Hannah couldn’t afford to miss spending half the weekend with her kids. He was going to accept the assignment and hoped she appreciated his sacrifice.
He rose to his feet and extended his hand toward the beleaguered principal. “Let’s shake on it.”
The principal’s shake was firm and he could tell he’d just made a binding oath.
When he turned around, Hannah’s eyes were wide. Like she couldn’t believe how easily he’d surrendered. He shrugged and extended his hand towards her as well. “Truce?”
He gritted his teeth when she accepted his truce and gingerly slid her fingers between his own. The tentative graze of her fingers sent a bolt of lightning shooting up his forearm that lodged somewhere in the vicinity of what she claimed was his cold black heart.
When they both left the office, a trifle shell-shocked and worse for wear, Graham placed a hand on Hannah’s elbow to halt her dash down the opposite hallway. “We should exchange numbers so we can plan this thing. How’s this Friday sound?”
She wrenched away from his touch like she’d been hit with a poisonous dart, her expression inscrutable.
“Okay,” she reluctantly agreed and handed her phone over.
He added his name and number to her contacts and handed it back over. “Text me and I’ll save your number in return.”
She raised a brow, but gave him a sharp nod before she turned on her heel and walked away.
***
That evening after school, Graham decided he needed a run to clear his head and plan his next move.
He’d be crazy not to take advantage of the opening the principal had just given him.
The cross country track was usually empty this time of year, and he’d just rounded the bend in the trail that bordered the soccer field when he heard the sobbing.
There was a crumpled figure laying at the base of the big pin oak and he rushed over, his throat closing with dread.
When he crouched down, he recognized Hannah Snow’s little boy. He’d seen her towing him through the school parking lot after the buses left on more than one occasion.
The kid’s face was streaked with tears and dirt and he was cradling his right arm.
“What happened here? Do you need help?”
“My mommy says I shouldn’t talk to strangers.”
“I’m not a stranger,” Graham told him.
“I don’t know you,” the little boy said as he frowned mutinously.
“You might not know me, but I know you.”
“How do you know me?” He challenged.
“Your mom and I teach at the same school. I’m Mr. Hollister.”
“I’m August. My arm really hurts, but I don’t want her to be mad at me.”
“She’s not going to be mad at you for getting hurt. Did you fall when you tried climbing the tree?”
“I wanted to save the kitten,” August explained as Graham scooped him up.
“It looks like the kitten saved itself and you ended up with a broken arm.”
“It hurts,” the little boy whimpered and squirmed in Graham’s arms.
“I know it does, buddy. But we’re gonna get you fixed up.”
“I want my mommy — even if she’s mad at me.”
“We’re gonna call her on the way to the emergency room so you can tell her what happened.”
They’d exchanged numbers because of the mandated party planning, but Graham hadn’t reached out and neither had she.
He slid his thumb through his contact list until he got to Pi and hit the call button.
“Yes?” She sounded annoyed.
“It’s Graham.”
“I know. What do you want? I thought we were meeting Tuesday after school.”
“I’m calling because I’m taking your son to the E.R.”
There was a thud, like she’d just dropped something. “What happened?”
“He fell out of a tree after his soccer practice.”
There was a rustling sound and the jangle of keys. “I’ll meet you there,” she said and hung up.
When Graham buckled August into the backseat, he winced again, and cupped his arm closer to his chest. Graham knew he needed to distract the boy from the pain, but his mind was like a blank slate and all he could think about were geometrical proofs and things like hypotenuses and square roots.
He settled on the obvious question. “Why was rescuing the kitten so important?”
August gave him a bewildered look. “I thought it was stuck and couldn’t save itself.”
“So you thought you were the right man for the job?” Graham asked as he slid behind the steering wheel.
“It didn’t matter what I thought. My dad used to say doing something even when you think you can’t, even if it’s something you’re scared of, makes you braver than someone who says they aren’t afraid of anything.”
“What else did your dad say?” Graham wanted to bite his tongue as soon as he asked, but he couldn’t take it back.
And maybe the little boy’s answer would be another piece in the jigsaw puzzle of Hannah Snow.
He hoarded observations about her like he was gleaning clues to Blackbeard’s treasure, and every single insight he mastered was filed away.
Just in case she ever gave him the opportunity to do more than pine from afar.
“He used to say that heroes were everyday people who did the hard things without looking away. People who see ugly things and say I can fix that instead of pretending like the ugly doesn’t exist or shoving it under a rug.”
“Your dad sounds pretty wise.”
He could almost see the kid’s enthusiastic nod. “He was a superhero and I want to be just like him when I grow up. Mommy told us that even though we’re sad he isn’t with us anymore, we should remember that he died trying to save people and we should be proud of him.”
“Was your dad a fireman?”
“Nope, he was a soldier,” August proudly clarified.
Graham wanted to thump his fist against the steering wheel. No wonder Hannah Snow didn’t want to date, he bitterly mused. Her dead soldier husband sounded like a saint and he was more like the anti-Christ.
The parking lot was empty when they got to the local twenty-four-hour clinic and Graham breathed a sigh of relief.
He was lifting August out of the back seat when Hannah’s battered Corolla came peeling into the parking lot with squealing tires.
He was halfway to the swinging doors when she caught up to him.
“You didn’t have to do this,” she said as she shoved her hands in the pockets of her coat.
“I did have to do it. I was there and he needed help.”
“Don’t be mad at him, Mommy. He rescued me,” August piped up in a small voice.
Her expression softened when she looked at her son. “I’m not mad at him, I’m just worried.”
“Mr. Hollister brought me here so they could fix my arm.”
***
They sat across from each other, clasping August’s limp hands.
He’d drifted off to sleep after demanding both of them sign his cast. The physician on duty, Mari Martinez, had insisted he stay overnight because of the risk of concussion.
The cat scan had come back clean, but she said she wanted to take precautions.
Hannah had insisted she’d keep vigil.
Graham had seen Hannah’s shocked expression when he’d settled into the uncomfortable armchair across the room and declared he was keeping vigil with her. He cleared his throat. “He’s quite a kid.”
She nodded, her smile hazy and her eyes still weary and glittering with unshed tears.
“Sometimes being a single mom feels like I’m walking on a tightrope, trying to do the best thing for my kids without crushing their spirit in the process.
The world has a way of showing me how easy it would be to lose them. ”
“I know their dad was a soldier, but what happened?”
“He was in the Special Forces and he was part of some top secret mission. They told me he died instantly and I should find comfort in that.”
Her voice was flat and bitter.
“How long has it been?”
“I’ll tell you because it’s not like it’s a secret. You could probably find out yourself if you googled it. The Willow Creek Crier headlines the day after Christmas in 2022 were all about the local hero who died protecting his country.”
“If August is any example, I’d say you’re balancing on that highwire pretty well.”
She shook her head. “I wish. Most of the time it feels like I’m five seconds away from toppling off and landing face down in the dirt.”
“Well, no one looking in from the outside sees that.”
The moment between them stretched just like it had over a year ago at the Christmas party.
Graham wanted to tell her that he and his sister had been raised by a single parent and he understood what she was going through.
At least to an extent. He and Carrie had basically raised themselves because most of the time their dad was mentally absent.
“So how did you end up finding him?”
“I was going for an afternoon run.”
Her gaze ran over his sweats and hoodie before she snorted and rolled her eyes. “As an insane person does after the first frost.”
“It’s not that cold. And anyway, it’s a good thing I was being insane. There was no one else there,” Graham’s voice hardened in anger and disbelief again.
“Where was the coach? And what about his carpool? I can’t believe everyone just left him!”
Graham shared her outrage. He knew kids could get misplaced in a scuffle, but he still couldn’t believe no one had noted August’s absence. “I don’t know where the coach was, but I’m going to find out. He’s getting a piece of my mind and maybe my foot up his ass.”
“I don’t want to make it any harder for August to fit in. And his coach is only an inch or two taller than me— if you confront him he’ll probably pee his pants.”
He grunted in acknowledgement. “All the more reason to do it. I bet he does shit like that all the time and no one ever confronts him about it.”
“I can’t stop you, and honestly I’m tempted to do the same. Just don’t do anything that’ll get August kicked off the team.”