Chapter 5 Grudges and Gratitude
Chapter Five: Grudges and Gratitude
When she woke up the next morning, he was gone.
His scent still lingered in the room, stronger than the smell of bleach and pinesol.
She buried her nose in the blanket he’d tucked around her so she could breathe in the cold scent of snow and wintergreen that was so much more appealing than the smell on antiseptic.
August’s eyes flickered open and he stretched his toes in her direction. “I’m sorry, Mommy.”
She grabbed his loose hand and clasped it in her lap. “It’s okay, baby. Just try not to scare me like that again.”
Hannah looked down at her son. There were faint lines of pain still etched between his brows and she held on tighter at that reminder of his fragility.
August must have sensed how close to tears she was, because he didn’t protest. “I’ll be more careful, Mom.”
Her son’s solemn promise reminded her of Graham Hollister’s scowl when he said he was going to have a word with August’s coach.
She shivered at the memory of the way his jaw had clenched when he’d practically snarled, “All the more reason to do it.” His visceral reaction had both surprised her and reminded her of the way he’d cupped her cheek after the Christmas party last year.
After August was discharged and she’d made sure he was home safe and napping, she decided she owed her surly co-worker a thank you. She was ashamed that she couldn’t remember if she’d even said it.
She could be a coward and just text an apology, but his act of kindness deserved more than that. Once she was curled up on her couch with a cup of tea, she called the number he’d entered in her contacts.
“Hello?”
His greeting was gruff and she was willing to bet he thought she was someone trying to sell him a timeshare. “Hi. It’s Hannah,” she cleared her throat. “Hannah Snow.”
“I know who this is,” he said with a tinge of amusement.
“I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry if it seemed like I wasn’t grateful. I am and I owe you my thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I did. And I needed to call the coach too. The world is too dangerous for people in charge of kids to go around slacking like that.”
She fiddled with her tea bag, her throat suddenly tight. Was it worth it to bring up August’s reckless behavior? He’d rescued him, so he deserved to know.
“He’s been doing things like that since his dad died, but this is the worst incident so far.”
There was a sigh on the other end. “He told me he wanted to be a superhero like his dad.”
The tears leaked out — there was no way she could stop them. “He was so little when Wagner died, he only has the stories I’ve told him.”
“The stories were enough to convince your son it’s okay to have a big heart and that the world needs more people like him and his dad. You did good, Hannah.”
It was the first time in over a year he’d called her by her given name.
It sounded raw and scraped her inside out because it was paired with his gruff praise.
She couldn’t afford to let him affect her this way - it felt disloyal.
Especially since they’d just been talking about how losing her husband had affected her family.
She decided to swallow her tears and redirect the conversation. “I called to say thank you, but I guess we should talk about the party a little so we can prep for our first planning meeting.”
“The only idea I have isn’t exactly feasible.”
Hannah adjusted her pillows and leaned back against them. “Maybe it is. I think whatever we decide on, we should shake things up a little bit.”
“One of my favorite Christmas movies is The Santa Clause with Tim Allen. I think the scene where he uses the last of his magic to give all of the teachers the Christmas presents they asked for as kids and never received would be a great reenactment.”
She tapped her chin. “Hmmm. We can’t exactly read their minds, but there must be some way to capture the same energy. I’ll think about it and try to come up with some ideas before we reconvene on Thursday.”
“Okay. I’ll brainstorm too. I don’t know what Principal Miller’s expectations are, but anything we plan will be better than the misery we endured last year.”
“Maybe we should add beer pong or other drinking games to the agenda. It’ll be the last day of school before the holidays and I know I won’t be the only one who needs to let off some steam.”
“If we do that we’ll need an Uber on call.”
“Willow Creek only has one Uber.”
His laugh was muffled. “Dwight Howard. Who drives a Mini Cooper.”
“We’ll have to pack them in like sardines,” Hannah chortled.
“Which only increases the likelihood Dwight’s upholstery wouldn’t survive. Not exactly great odds.”
“So no drinking games?”
“No drinking games. If they need alcohol they can imbibe after nine o’ clock, once they’re safely home and nowhere near school property.”
“Sober adult fun that doesn’t involve the secretary’s awful cranberry punch or a playlist that was probably named ‘The Onomatopoeia Version of Santa Landing on the Roof’ would be a great start.”
“You’re right about the punch. It was awful. As for the playlist, it sounded more like it should have been called ‘Elf’s Night on the Town Ended with a Xylophone Serenade.’ Like I said, the bar isn’t very high.”
“Let’s agree we’ll each have a list of at least three things.”
“That shouldn’t be too hard. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Snow.”
A perverse part of her was sad he hadn’t used her first name. “See you tomorrow, Hollister.”
***
August seemed none the worse for wear in the morning, so Hannah gave him the over the counter painkiller the pediatrician had advised her to use and bundled him into the car.
His kindergarten teacher seemed surprised, but crouched to greet him. “Good morning, August. I heard you had quite the rescue last night.”
August nodded and presented his cast. “The kitten jumped out of the tree by itself and I hurt my arm.”
His teacher’s gaze flicked toward Hannah. “And who rescued you?”
Hannah’s son gave his teacher a wide, gap-toothed grin. “Mister Hollister.”
“He’s a teacher here too.”
This time the woman’s gaze lingered on Hannah. It wasn't friendly, but it wasn’t malevolent either. “So I’ve heard. It sounds like he was in the right place at the right time. Why don’t you put your things in your cubby while I have a word with your mother.”
Ms. Shepherd stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind her. The expression she wore sent Hannah’s pulse skittering.
“What’s wrong?”
The other teacher knotted her hands together. “I don’t know how to deliver this gently, so I’m just going to say it.”
“Go ahead,” Hannah prompted when she paused.
“Your son is teased by some of the other boys about the absence of a father. I intervene when I can, but children can be ruthless to each other and this is a small town. Word travels fast and if Mr. Hollister’s involvement in your household is misconstrued, the teasing could grow worse.”
The injustice of the insinuation made Hannah’s blood run cold. “What exactly do you mean by that?”
“Like I said, this is a small town. I know you grew up here, but maybe you forgot what it can be like sometimes.”
Hannah snorted. “Oh I haven’t forgotten.”
“Then you know if the bloodhounds get the scent of something they think is juicy gossip they’ll pounce and tear you to shreds.
And the possibility there might be some juicy fraternization between you and another teacher is enough to send the sharks into a feeding frenzy.
Especially the single ones who’ve been scoping him out. ”
“There’s nothing between me and Graham Hollister.”
The other teacher raised a skeptical brow.
“I’m telling the truth. There’s nothing there other than Ms. Miller forcing us to collaborate and plan the staff holiday party together.”
Erica Shepherd’s expression was still disbelieving, but she patted Hannah on the shoulder. “Just be careful.”
Hannah thought she was being careful. She appreciated Graham’s intervention on August’s behalf, but she’d said thank you and that was the end of it.
The incident might signal they’d declared a truce, but that didn’t mean she was going to let him get away with aggravating her whenever he felt like it.
Her mind had been racing last night after their conversation and she’d already started her list of ways to make the staff Christmas party less lame.
She’d called in a favor from one of her college friends who fronted a Fleetwood Mac tribute band, and making sure there was decent music this time was at least a start.
Joan had been excited and said she and the guys could dive into the rest of their seventies and eighties rock repertoire if Hannah needed it.
The next thing she was going to tackle was the food. The cold mashed potatoes and sad green beans were not making a comeback. She was internally debating the pros and cons of a hot chocolate bar when she pushed open the door to her homeroom.
Graham Hollister was leaning casually against her desk, ankles crossed and the sleeves of his gray and black plaid flannel rolled up to his elbows. He was holding two paper cups from Cupcake on Main, with little curls of steam billowing through the openings.
“I thought you might need this,” he said as he came to stand in front of her. He lifted her tote from her arm and placed one of the drinks in her hand.
“Are you trying to butter me up for something?” She asked suspiciously.
“Nope. I thought we’d declared a truce of sorts. This is a peace offering.”
“This is the second time in less than two weeks you’ve brought me coffee.”
His cheekbones colored as he set her tote on one of the desks. When he turned to face her again, he rocked back on his heels and thrust his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. “The first one was an apology. You were right about the coffee pot in the break room.”
“It was unequivocally an asshole move,” she agreed.
“I’m trying to make up for the way I’ve treated you since you set up boundaries and put me in my place last year.”
He sounded regretful and Hannah knew she couldn’t let him shoulder all the blame for their animosity.
“I’ve been a pill too. You made an easy target and I shouldn’t stay mad at you for doing nothing more than asking me out.
” She took a sip of the coffee and closed her eyes in ecstasy. “I forgive you for everything.”
He chuckled. “Because you’re feeling guilty or because your judgment’s clouded by White Cranberry Mocha coffee?”
Hannah grinned. “A little bit of both.”