Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
PRESENT DAY
A week later on Friday, during the daily announcements, Tonya includes me with the birthday shoutouts. Half of my students’ jaws drop. The ones who were paying attention.
They wait until the announcements are finished before Alex, a boy near the windows, speaks up. “Ms. Sullivan, it’s your birthday today?”
“It sure is,” I say gently. “And it’s Kennedy’s birthday.” I gesture toward the little girl seated near the center of the classroom. Her pink dress has a “Birthday Girl” pin attached to the front of it. “We should all tell her happy birthday.”
They do, in chaotic unison.
“My birthday’s in July,” Daniel, a kid in the middle of the front row, announces proudly when the room quiets down.
“Birthdays are very special,” I confirm.
“How old are you?” Brett, near the back, asks.
“You’re not supposed to ask that to old people,” Tiffany points out from the second row.
I stand from behind my desk, both hands raised. “Thank you very much, you guys. Birthdays are always exciting, but you know what else is exciting? Telling time. So, let’s all get out our practice workbooks.”
There’s a collective groan, and Kennedy raises her hand while her classmates work to retrieve their books from inside their desks.
“Yes, Kennedy?”
“Happy birthday, Ms. Sullivan. I don’t think you’re old.”
I can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of my throat. “Happy birthday, Kennedy.”
When the kids come back inside from recess, they swarm around my desk.
“We made you something, Ms. Sullivan,” Kennedy informs me.
There are a couple of nervous giggles as she moves her hands from behind her back and reveals a paper crown. On the front, in ever-improving handwriting, someone has written:
Happy Birthday
It’s decorated with crayons—rainbows and butterflies everywhere I look. “Oh, you guys.” Tears sting my eyes, and it’s the most ridiculous thing to cause me to cry in a while, but I take the crown and plop it on my head. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
“Do you like it?”
“I love it.”
“We all drew something,” Daniel says proudly. “I picked the colors.”
“You all did a wonderful job.”
As they take their seats, there’s a knock on the door. I’m still drying my eyes as I cross the classroom.
Banks.
There’s a small part of me that expected him to come find me after the morning announcements. An even smaller, embarrassing part of me that wonders if that’s why he’s here.
I twist the handle and beam at him. “Mr. Thompson.”
His eyes briefly scan the crown. “Am I interrupting story time? I just need to borrow your keys, if I can. I locked mine in the teachers’ lounge.”
“Oh.” I step back. “Yep, of course.” I cross the room and grab the set of keys from my desk. “Only if you promise to return the favor when it happens to me.”
He smiles and the wrinkles of worry wash from his expression. “It’s a deal.” He lingers, and for a second, I think…maybe…but no. He’s only studying the keys, flipping through the ring, trying to determine which of the many is the key to the teachers’ lounge.
“Sorry. There’s a lot. It’s…this one, I think.” I tap my finger against the key with two small bumps on its teeth.
He waves the keys. “I’ll figure it out. Thanks. I’ll bring ’em back after class.”
I don’t allow myself to feel the sinking feeling in my chest as I shut the door. It’s silly, isn’t it?
Just a birthday.
Still, the reality stings. He didn’t notice.