Chapter 3 #2
I look at her and fake a smile. She comes off as a difficult person, but I know she means well—or at least I want to believe she does.
But if her persistence comes from a place of caring, I wish she’d care a little less.
“I know how important this event is. Christmas is my favorite holiday, I have tons of ideas for what we can do, and I won’t screw this up. ”
“You better not.” She turns on her heel and click-clacks out of the room.
Hardy is still sitting at his table, picking at the wrapper on his water bottle. It’s clear the man doesn’t skip leg day, because there’s no other explanation for how he is holding up his body as he balances on the chair that looks comically tiny under him.
I stand from my desk and walk around the tables, picking up the leftover agendas, trying to straighten the place as much as I can while sneaking peeks at him out of the corner of my eye.
He really is handsome, and I wonder if he noticed all the moms checking him out during the meeting. I know I did.
I turn my back to him, cleaning up the container of spilled crayons, silently cursing Amber with each one I pick up. I’m hyperfocused on my task, getting totally lost in the silence of the room as I sort the crayons by color.
“So, there’s something I want to ask you about.”
I jump. “Holy shit, I forgot you were here,” I say, shooting up as I turn to face him.
He’s still seated at the table, the wrapper of his bottle now fully removed as he twists it between his hands, his eyes locking with mine. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s okay.” My hands feel sweaty, and I wipe them on my pants as I approach his table. “Can I join you?” What is it about this man that makes me so nervous? “Sorry, I don’t know why I asked that. It’s my classroom, and you said you wanted to talk, of course I can join you.”
The chair slides out in front of me completely on its own, and I look around in confusion. “Do you have elves under there doing your bidding?”
He chuckles. “It was my foot under the table.”
Of course it was. Get it together, Bella.
“What’s up?” I plop into the seat with as much grace as one of my students after recess.
“About the other night. Are you doing okay?”
Oh my God, are we going to talk about this now? I swallow nervously, unsure where he is going with this. “Totally fine. All better. Just a bad bladder infection because of my medication. All healed. We don’t have to talk about any other part of that night.”
My leg bounces under the table as his eyes sweep down to my chest. Is he flirting?
This feels like flirting. Is he even single?
This could get messy, and I’m so over Amber spreading more gossip about me around Chestnut Mountain.
I need to remain professional, even if he is the most delicious man I’ve ever seen and I want to lick every inch of his body.
I squeeze my thighs together and shake the thought from my head.
“Let’s talk about Avery,” I say, changing the subject.
“Is Avery doing okay? In class, I mean.”
“Avery’s great. She’s super helpful to all her classmates, very respectful in class, and follows directions. You all are doing a great job with her.” Smooth, Bella.
He winces. Shit, what am I missing?
“My class size increased and I’m having a hard time keeping up, and clearly I didn’t read her file thoroughly enough.
I didn’t even realize you were Avery’s dad until you said it in the meeting.
My life has been a hot mess lately. I’m so sorry.
Is there something going on at home that I need to know about? ”
“Mrs. Williams isn’t in the picture.”
“Oh! Got it. No worries. I’m divorced too. I totally get it.”
This time he flinches at my words, and I feel like the biggest asshole on the planet.
“Not divorced.”
I wait for him to say more. Note to self: Check Avery’s file as soon as he leaves.
“So, you’re worried about Avery because your wife left?”
He drops his head in his hands and blows out a long breath.
Oh, fuck.
She didn’t leave them. Why am I the most awkward person in existence? Why can’t I pick up on context clues and have a normal conversation? “I’m so sorry, Mr. Williams, my neurospicy brain sometimes doesn’t pick up on social cues. Are you saying that Avery’s mom died?”
His head is still in his hands as he nods. I’m not sure if he’s crying, trying not to cry, or trying not to scream at my daftness.
“It’s okay. Well, it’s not, but it’s going to be. How long ago did she pass?”
“It’ll be two years in January,” he says against his palms.
“Got it. Okay. If it makes you feel any better, I couldn’t tell.
Avery seems very well-adjusted, totally on grade-level with her peers.
And I’m sorry I overlooked that in her file.
That’s something I would’ve noted to keep an eye on.
Regardless, I think you’re doing a great job with her.
” I place a hand on his arm, and a tingle zips through me at the connection.
He lifts his head, studying the place where we’re connected, and I self-consciously pull my hand back, but he stops me, placing it back on his arm as he covers it with his palm.
“Thank you… for saying that.”
“It’s the truth.” My words are husky, and I barely recognize my own voice.
“I need to confess something.” He leans forward in the chair and my heartbeat quickens in my chest. His eyes drift down to my lips, briefly. It was quick, but I caught it. Does the hot EMT want to kiss me?
“You can tell me anything,” I say breathily. What has gotten into me? I don’t come on to my students’ parents and I don’t typically flirt with men like this, but something about this man has me desperate and needy.
“I fucked up Christmas last year.”
The words are a bucket of ice, extinguishing the lust coursing through me.
“I’m sorry, what?” I blink away the fog.
“It was her first Christmas without her mom. And I fucked it up. Apparently, I didn’t do any of the things that Lydie used to do and everything was ruined. I had no clue half of what she did. I was always out on emergency calls or at the station. She did all the magic shit.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
“First, she was upset because Sprinkle McPinkle Pants never showed up.”
I chuckle at the name. “Her elf?”
“Yeah! See, this is what I’m talking about. You just know. How the fuck was I supposed to know what that was? It took me a week to find where Lydie used to hide it and then I still didn’t know what the hell I was supposed to do with it.”
“Lemme guess, you had an upset little girl the next morning.”
“How did you know that?”
“You didn’t make the elf move.”
“How the fuck is a doll supposed to move?” he asks, waving his hands in the air as he speaks. I miss his touch instantly.
“You don’t make it move in front of her, but every night the elf is supposed to report back to Santa on its kid.”
“So, it’s like a creepy spy?”
“That’s one way to look at it.”
“Is there another way to look at it?”
“It’s the magic of Santa! The elf reports back, and when it returns, it usually gets into mischief. And the kids wake up to see what shenanigans the elf got into.”
“I have to let this stupid spy doll trash my house too?”
“There are whole websites dedicated to giving parents ideas about how to move their elves. I’ve seen some of them get pretty elaborate.
Luckily my kid was never into all of that, but I will warn you that we usually do classroom elves, so you’ve got a few weeks before he shows up.
That should give you enough time to figure out what to do with yours. ”
“I appreciate that,” he says with a hint of snark.
“I’m happy to help if you want. I can print a list of ideas you can try.”
“Anything would help. I can’t ruin Christmas again.”
“You say that like there’s more to the story.”
He lets out a deep sigh. “I burnt the cookies for Santa and forgot to get milk. I threw the cookies away after she went to bed, and when I came downstairs in the morning, Avery was sobbing because her cookies were in the trash and she thought Santa put them there.”
I slap a palm to my mouth to cover my laugh.
“I completely forgot about the stockings—”
“Why do men always forget about the stockings?” I say to the sky in jest like I’m speaking to myself, and I catch him smirk.
“I’ll never make that mistake again. Avery was devastated. I may have mentioned that I forgot so now I’m worried she’s going to think I do everything, not Santa.”
“Not a problem.”
He raises an eyebrow at me, but I offer no further explanation.
“I know there’s more I probably forgot that Lydie did.
I’m not completely inept, but I worked a lot, practically living at my old station.
I don’t know how she did everything she did, she just took care of everything, and I guess I figured she’d always be around to do it. ”
“Moms make magic,” I say, offering him a small smile as I place my hand on his, squeezing gently.
Our eyes drop to our hands as warmth spreads along my skin everywhere it touches his. I can tell by the way he shifts in his tiny seat that he feels it too.
“I just want to make sure that she has the perfect Christmas this year. I’m willing to do anything it takes, I just need some guidance in the right direction.
We’ve been through so much and I know she misses her mom, and maybe if I can get this right, it’ll be like she’s still here with her.
” His voice breaks at the end, and I can tell he’s trying not to cry, but I can see how misty his eyes are as he blinks rapidly.
“I want her to believe in Santa. Maybe if she does, she’ll stay my little girl for a little longer.
She’s had to grow up so much the past two years without her mom. ”
“It’s not dumb, and it’s okay if she doesn’t believe in Santa. Lots of kids don’t,” I assure him.
“That’s just it. She does believe in Santa. She just thinks Santa doesn’t love her. I know it probably has something to do with her losing her mom and the misplaced feelings are now on Santa.”
“I would be happy to help with that in any way I can.”
“Would it be weird to ask you to ask her everything her mom did so I can know? Like, be discreet about it and talk about everyone’s favorite traditions and then report back to me.”
“I can absolutely do that, but I can also do one better. If you thought this PTO meeting was wild, you should come to the after-hours one.”
He looks at me quizzically, cocking his eyebrow as he tilts his head.
“Sorry, I made the connection in my head, and I realize you didn’t follow my train of thought. Some of the moms get together and have a private PTO meeting with booze. And for some odd reason, lots of dick jokes. But I’m sure they’ll tone it down in mixed company. You should come.”
He shifts in his seat, rubbing the back of his neck, and I can tell I’m losing him. “I don’t know if that’s my scene.”
“Oh, it’s your scene, trust me. It’s full of moms, and we can fix this little problem of yours.”
“How?”
“By teaching you The Santa Rules.”