Chapter 5
Chapter Five
FAITH
It was Monday morning, and my students were currently hyped up on too much sugar and not enough sleep. I was excited about being back in routine, but not for all the emotions.
The Thanksgiving break had raced by, peppered with a few passive aggressive voicemails from Mom.
I had four failed macarons attempts where I couldn’t get the foot part right, and I made it to the library and checked out a bunch of Christmas romance novels.
“Ms. Faith,” Lucy shrieked. Her green doe eyes were wide, her tiny lips quivered. “Danny said chicken nuggets are made from baby chickens!”
Oh boy, not sure I was awake enough for this. I needed caffeine and quick.
My mental state wasn’t much better than my students’. I really shouldn’t have stayed up so late, even if the enemies just became lovers in my novel.
Today, I think my current reading addiction and I were enemies.
I stood up from my chair, promising my head I’d find caffeine before lunch, and made my way over to table three.
“What did you think chicken nuggets were?” Danny’s eyebrows scrunched down as he stared at the table. “It says chicken in the name.”
“Danny, let’s stay on topic for now. You should practice your spelling words, please.” I pointed to the nearly blank paper in front of him.
“I hate spelling,” he grumbled. “I’m trash at it.” He gripped his pencil so hard his knuckles turned white.
I leaned down beside him. “I know spelling is difficult for you, but we still need to practice.” I shrugged. “Everyone has things that are difficult for them, even if you can’t see it. That’s just how the world works.” I patted him on his back as he refocused on his paper.
I went over to Lucy. She had big alligator tears in her eyes. “Are you doing okay, Lucy?” I squatted down at eye level with her.
“Is it true about baby chickens?” She whimpered.
I exhaled slowly as I thought of how to handle the situation. “I haven’t seen chicken nuggets being made, but yes, they are made of chicken, though not the babies.”
She blinked rapidly, and I could tell her little mind was imagining horrors. This was not going well. “There are laws in place to help the chickens live healthy and happy. If you have any more questions about it, maybe ask your parents tonight, okay?”
Lucy wiped at her watery eyes with the back of her hand. She had such a sweet soul. “I ate chickens,” she whispered in pain.
Danny fidgeted in his chair as his eyes shot between Lucy, me, and then the table. “Danny, would you like to say something to Lucy?”
Danny shook his head.
I squeezed Lucy’s shoulder. I needed to focus her attention elsewhere. “Your letters are looking great! I like how your capital G goes all the way from the ceiling to the floor.”
Lucy smiled.
“And I love your pink glittery pencil.”
Lucy then launched into a story about how she got it at a birthday party. Once she was refocused on spelling, I made my way to Danny. “I can tell you are working hard, thank you.”
He huffed and whispered, “Was that one of the things that wasn’t nice to say? My dad tries to remind me, but I can’t remember them all.” His eyes shifted, focusing anywhere but on me and Lucy.
My heart melted even more for this child. “You’re all right. Let’s just focus on schoolwork, okay?”
The last thing I needed to be thinking about was his father. I replayed the exchange until it was burned into my brain. I could see places where I could have explained things differently and cringed at the fact that I had let my past influence the conversation.
When I saw him today, I honestly did not know what I would do. Try to hide, obviously, but if not that, then what?
Pretend it didn’t happen?
Maybe I could go home sick?
I sighed. I was being ridiculous. I was a teacher, and he was a parent. I would simply apologize. And then panic about it later.
I walked over to table five and reminded Sophie that the paper was for writing on and not eating.
“All right, class, we have five more minutes to finish your spelling paper and then you have specials. It’s music today!
” Of her twenty-four students, some were excited; others were not.
The new music teacher seemed sweet, although eccentric in her tinsel sweaters and huge dangly earrings.
“I think you are preparing for the Christmas Music program.”
The class turned in their papers, and I walked them down to the music room. I had a few minutes and needed to check emails and catch up on the group text with Rose and Marissa.
Last text I read, Scott, Marissa’s husband, had eaten one of Marissa’s favorite cookies, and then left the box on the table, where their dog London ate the last one.
Marissa was not happy. The newlyweds were a perfect match. Even if Marissa was missing cookies, soon she would text Scott’s praises.
Emails first. I steered my pink heels to my desk.
The business day planning meeting was tomorrow, and I still needed parent volunteers. I sent three emails and still hadn’t seen any offers.
If I didn’t get some help, there was no way the student business day would work out. After all, the business plans of second graders could be tricky. Sam was planning on building a rocket, and Lucy wanted to start a unicorn research team.
I opened my email and scanned through it.
There was one from Adam Peters, subject: Volunteer and apology.
My cursor froze over the message in my inbox. I clicked open.
Ms. Faith,
I need to apologize for my behavior at our last meeting. I was tired and caught off guard on a long day, but that is no excuse.
I noticed you asked for parent volunteers several times for the business fair at the end of January, and I figured the best way to apologize and to spend time with Danny would be to help. He has been talking about this business day nonstop, and for Danny, that’s saying something.
Thanks again, and I’ll be at the meeting tomorrow night.
Adam
Wait.
What?
Adam was volunteering?
Oh no! This wasn’t a good idea.
There was no way I could work that closely with Adam. It would require spending a lot of time together and constant communication. The saliva grew thick in my mouth as I tried to swallow.
I could barely even speak to the man without getting tongue tied—unless I was scolding him, apparently. Not only that, but wherever Adam went, enormous groups of people immediately seemed to gravitate. That was the opposite of what I wanted.
I rolled my anxiety ring and pursed my lips.
I had no other volunteers, and I really couldn’t do this by myself. I bit my bottom lip and went back to my inbox. Maybe I missed an email from another parent volunteer?
I scrolled through twice.
Nothing.
I picked up my phone and texted Rose and Marissa. My besties always came through in a crisis.
Faith:So, remember that meeting I had with a parent before the break?
I had told them about the meeting with Adam but had left out names. I never wanted to start a rumor about anyone. I learned back in New York how hurtful words and gossip could be, and I wanted to err on the side of caution now.
Rose: You mean the one you let past-mama-drama enter the convo and had you baking all Thanksgiving break? (eye-roll emoji)
Marissa: I still can’t believe you wouldn’t tell us who it was with.
Rose: Right? And I don’t buy the excuse that you were worried I might retaliate.
I smiled. I loved our Three Musketeers trio.
The Rose threat wasn’t far off either. I took the blame, but Rose was still ready to go fight my battles.
That she owned the only salon for thirty miles meant she could start a rumor fire quickly and do some serious damage.
She wouldn’t without my permission, but still.
I felt like names were necessary now for them to understand the situation.
Faith: Yep…well… It was Coach Peters, and he also just volunteered to help the class for the business fair…to apologize and spend time with Danny.
Rose: Hunky Peters!!! Girl, you are going to get one-on-one time with him! (flame emoji) Lucky! He’d better be nice though.
Marissa: At least you finally got a volunteer? I’m so sorry about the anxiety spike over Thanksgiving. No fun! We should do a girls’ night.
Marissa had always been a bit more level headed than Rose, not that that was saying much.
Rose: A hot, muscly volunteer. He could just pick you up if you need to hang signs above 5 ft.
Faith: Ha ha…
She wasn’t wrong. At barely taller than five feet—without heels—I always had a step stool handy.
Marissa: Want to come over for ice cream so we can discuss the plan of attack? I will grab Ben I needed time and space to see it better.
I pulled up at the multipurpose B & B, which served as a community center and events center as well as law office, and shut the door on my car.
Looks like they finished painting it over Thanksgiving.
I know they were rushing to finish before the hard freeze.
The B&B was a Victorian-style house that held charm and history.
It had dark purple shutters and a fresh-wood railing around the porch.
They had been working hard to get it fixed up, but because of the historical funding and guidelines, they had run into a few logistical bumps.
I was in my usual after-school attire, leggings and a loose sweater. I love my pencil skirts and heels, but there was something amazing about taking off the professional layer and being all about comfort. My mother would be horrified that I was in public like this.