Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LUKE
“U-N-L-I-K-E-L-Y, unlikely,” Aiden Sunday recited the following Thursday, kicking the back of his sneaker against the edge of the cafetorium’s stage to punctuate each letter.
All of the other children who’d stayed after school for extra spelling bee practice had already been picked up, and Aiden and I had the whole room to ourselves.
“You got it!” I held up my hand for a high five, and Aiden smacked it enthusiastically. “That’s twelve words in a row. Keep up the practice for the next few weeks, and you’re gonna kill it at the spelling bee.”
“C’you give me one more practice word? Please, Mr. Williams?” His gap-toothed grin was infectious and seriously hard to resist, so I usually didn’t. But…
“That’s what you said ten words ago.” I folded my legs beneath me and sat beside him. “How about if you start working on your journal entry for Monday while we wait for your uncle Drew to get here?”
Aiden agreed but dragged his composition book out of his backpack with the enthusiasm of a sedated sloth.
“Hey, Mr. Williams? Do you think my mom will come to the Spring Fling? ’Cause the mayor gives out prizes for the spelling bee at the Spring Fling, and maybe if I can win one, she can see me get it. ”
I glanced up from the lesson plan I’d been working on. “I… I don’t know. The Spring Fling is open to the whole town, so I don’t see why not.”
He nodded and tapped his pencil against his closed notebook for a few moments, then said fake-casually, “You know, Mom took me to hockey practice this week.”
“Did she?” I’d heard about this… but only briefly. “Was it fun?”
He nodded enthusiastically… then stopped. “She came on Monday afternoon.”
I frowned. “Okay? That’s good, right?”
“Practice is Tuesday.”
“Ohhh. Well, it was the first week, wasn’t it? She probably got confused. Did she come back on Tuesday and take you?”
“Yeah! Totally!” He hesitated for a second. “Dad was annoyed, though. She… she forgets things a lot. She forgets me a lot.”
My heart squeezed. “I am almost positive that’s not true, bud.
You’re basically unforgettable. Some people just aren’t great at remembering dates and times and take longer to adjust to new routines.
Be patient. And remember your dad probably gets annoyed because he loves you, and he doesn’t want you to be upset. ”
He cocked his head. “D’you think?”
“I do.”
He looked relieved. “Because Mom’s also gonna take me to Nature Scouts, ’cause I want her to meet Olin, and I was thinking, maybe she could pick me up after spelling bee practice sometimes, too, so she could meet you. Maybe you could ask my dad. Or ask Principal Oliver—”
“Why don’t you wait,” I suggested. “See how she does with next week’s pickup. Then you can ask your dad. I’m sure I’ll meet her sometime soon.”
Under no circumstances would I be asking Principal Oliver to intervene, though, thank you very much. The woman had made no secret of her feelings for Webb Sunday and, by extension, our betrothal.
By Monday morning, word had gotten out about the handfasting—because this was Little Pippin Hollow, where every week was a slow news week and dogs having puppies was sometimes the lead story on the local cable news.
When I’d walked into the teachers’ lounge, I’d been greeted with celebratory donuts and hugs from nearly everyone, along with a dozen voices clamoring for every detail.
How long have you been dating? Ohmigosh, I can’t believe you managed to keep it under the gossip radar so well that everyone thought you two disliked each other!
Whose idea was the handfasting? Do you get a ring?
I’d flushed hot and opened my mouth to explain that it had all been a huge misunderstanding… when Principal Oliver had cut in.
“You’re going to find out pretty soon that Webb Sunday’s no prize, Mr. Williams,” she’d said, staring down her bifocals at me like a mousy, off-brand version of Cruella de Vil.
“He’s making his ex-wife jump through hoops to see her own son, and now he’s inveigled one of my teachers into a handfasting before the custody is officially decided?
Seems a little too good to be true, if you ask me. ”
I really hated when people said that.
Immediately, I’d stood a little straighter, hands clenched into fists, because our handfasting had been utterly ridiculous… but it hadn’t been deliberate, that much I knew.
“Webb hasn’t inveigled me into anything,” I said firmly. Though damn, I wished he would. “And our relationship is no one’s business but ours.”
Then I’d left the room with my head held high, only remembering after I’d stalked back to my classroom that a man with bills to pay probably should not be deliberately antagonizing his boss.
It was hard, though, when it involved Webb and Aiden. Webb was a devoted father, and even when we hadn’t been friends, I’d never doubted that.
I was sure Amanda loved Aiden, too. But, well, if I was being honest, it was hard to understand how a person could walk away from Webb Sunday if he wanted them in his life and in his bed, and that was the dang truth.
The man made a terrible enemy, but as a friend… ugh. He was amazing. Too amazing. Irresistibly amazing.
Case in point: I’d woken up on Saturday morning to an adorable text from him about Aiden and “hydropraetonic” plants. And the text had been signed “(This is Webb Sunday)” like I might not realize, which was ten times adorable-r.
I’d texted back a picture of my sheep clamoring around me while I fed them with the caption, “Popular!”
And it had somehow morphed into a whole thing where we’d texted back and forth every couple of hours for days.
Webb
(picture of an orchard full of bare trees) So… about those apple tithes. I have bad news. *sad emoji*
…
(picture of Aiden, tongue sticking out of his mouth as he affixed grass seeds to pink sponges) Hydropraetonic experiments underway. You wouldn’t know about those, Webb, but Mr. Williams does because he’s smart. *devil emoji*
…
Webb
My brother Porter is a HUSTLER. He just went sledding with Aiden and Olin… and he’s conned THE CHILDREN into carting HIM up the damn hill. I feel like I’ve failed as a parent on many levels.
…
I just asked Liz at the library if they had any “books on tape” so I could listen while I crochet, and OMG I have become my grandmother, SEND HELP.
Webb
Would love to, but I had to ask Drew to explain why your text was funny since it looked fine to me.
…
I love teaching, but good gosh, the bureaucracy.
Principal Oliver is making me fill out permission slips to have kids participate in Pick-a-Book.
A permission slip… to have a free book sent home with them!!! And these are not controversial books. We’re talking… The Boy Who Loved Words.
Sorry. I don’t mean to be a downer.
Webb
Missed your texts because my kid was just reading out loud to me.
How does it feel to teach kids maybe the most important thing they’ll ever learn how to do?
Don’t let the bastards get you down.
And you couldn’t be a downer if you tried. (I dare you. Try.)
*cry emoji* Thanks, Webb.
…
Webb
Aiden’s mom is picking him up for hockey practice in ten minutes.
Scale of 1-10, how bad is it that I want to follow them to the rink?
Wanting to do it? 1
Doing it? 7.5
But I’m at Peebles’ and if I happen to drive past the rink on my way home, I think that’s a 4, tops.
I wasn’t sure if this was what Webb Sunday was like with all his friends, but it was working for me in the best, worst way.
As in, every time my phone dinged and I saw his name, I got a thrill in my stomach, like I was back in middle school having my first crush on a boy. It felt lighthearted and fun and… well, I was really trying to focus on the good, but I couldn’t deny that it felt precarious.
My attraction was now a full-blown crush.
“Mr. Williams, who’s the best superhero?”
“Huh?” I blinked and found that I’d been staring at a blank page for a long moment. “Oh. Is this for your journal entry?”
“Yeah. You said to write four or five sentences about our favorite hero. So I’m trying to figure out who’s most powerful. Like, Thor has a hammer. But also, Superman doesn’t need a hammer because he’s strong. And then there’s Green Lantern—”
“Or there are real-life heroes,” I pointed out. “Firefighters, nurses, lifeguards. You could write about those.”
He wrinkled his nose. “I mean, yeah. But… that’s kinda boring.”
I pushed my lips together and tried, like I did a million times a day, not to laugh at the unfiltered stuff that came out of my students’ mouths. “Hmm. Well, if you’re asking my favorite superhero, it’s Spider-Man.”
Aiden cocked his head to one side. “That’s… nice,” he said dubiously.
I bit my lip. “He might not have the strongest powers, but he uses them wisely. He cares about people and looks out for them. People can rely on him. That’s why he’s my favorite.” I paused. “And the webs. I love the webs.”
Aiden grinned. “Yeah, okay. I mean, still not as good as Thor, though.”
I grinned back. “Well—”
“Sorry, boys!” Drew Sunday hurried into the cafetorium wearing tie-dye leggings, a hoodie, and Crocs, though it couldn’t have been more than fifteen degrees outside.
His blood had to be as thick as cement. “I was working in the sugar house and lost all track of time. The sap is really running this week. Nice warm days and cool nights, you know?”
I shook my head. I had no clue. “I understand only the basics of syrup making, I’m afraid. One day, I’ll learn.”
“Come out to the orchard this weekend,” Drew offered. “Webb and I are hosting Aiden’s Nature Scout troop on Saturday for maple sugaring in the morning and skating in the afternoon. You’re more than welcome.”
“Oh, that’s nice of you, but—”
“Please, Mr. Williams,” Aiden begged. “Please, please, please? Dad and I can show you how to skate. Then once you know how, we can play hockey. Murray said your parents never taught you.” He said this like it was the saddest turn of events he could imagine.
Drew and I exchanged a laughing look over Aiden’s head.
“That’s true,” I agreed. “But I don’t think—”