Chapter 10
ten
. . .
Winnie
We had Thanksgiving at a beautiful restaurant that Lulu’s family had rented out in Paris, and though it was strange not to be with my father, I’d had a wonderful time.
Melody had felt fine the morning after she’d puked in the elevator. I was quickly learning just how resilient children were.
We’d been back in Rosewood River for two weeks, and everything in town had shifted from fall to Christmas. White twinkle lights wrapped around every light post downtown, with white-and-red flowers hanging from each one.
It took me some time to get back on a normal sleep schedule after Paris.
I’d also grown close to Lulu, Henley, Emilia, Eloise, Wren, and Archer’s cousin Emerson since our trip, and they’d all read Whisper Sweet Nothings for me. They’d also been very discreet about my pen name, which I appreciated.
My mornings were back to normal: breakfast with Melody and Archer, and then she’d go off to school and I’d go to the writing cave.
I looked forward to picking her up every day from school and taking her to her activities and just spending time with her.
She was such a special little girl, and I adored her.
Her teacher, on the other hand, was a different story.
“I was hoping Mr. Chadwick would be picking up Melody from school today,” Mrs. Groucher said.
Her name was very fitting.
“Well, I’ve been picking her up every day for several weeks, so I’m not sure why you were expecting him.” I glanced over at Melody, who was retrieving her backpack from her cubby, and when she looked at me, I noticed that her eyes were puffy. “Has she been crying? Did something happen?”
“Yes. Something happened,” Mrs. Groucher grumped. A few of the parents hustled out of the classroom, as if they didn’t want to have to speak to her. “Melody chose to talk during work time today, so she missed Fun Friday.”
I’d heard all about Fun Friday, and personally, it didn’t sound all that fun. Mrs. Groucher allowed them to work silently in centers during Fun Friday. So I couldn’t imagine what one did when one actually missed it.
Sit in a closet in the dark?
Walk on a floor covered in tacks?
Watch paint dry?
Melody walked over and slipped her hand in mine. “I’m-I’m-I’m sorry, Mrs. Groucher.” The tears started rolling down her cheeks, and the unpleasant woman showed zero emotion.
I bent down and held both her hands in mine. “Tell me what happened, sweet pea.”
She loved the nickname, and it was very fitting, so it had stuck.
“Josh Barker asked me to help him,” she said, her voice wobbly. “He didn’t know what to do on his math paper.”
“And you helped him?” I asked, my thumb stroking over the back of her hand.
She nodded and sniffed a few times. “I just whispered that he needed to count the shapes and write the numbers.”
“And he would have known that if he’d made the choice to listen to the directions,” Mrs. Groucher said as she crossed her arms over her chest. If I hadn’t been so pissed off, I would’ve been intimidated by her.
I stood up, facing the woman head on. “So let me get this straight. One of your five-year-old students didn’t pay attention while you gave the directions, and he asked a friend for help.
” I watched her reaction, which was null and void.
Amazing. “Melody didn’t turn him away; she whispered the directions.
And then she sat out Fun Friday because she helped a friend? ”
“Josh missed Fun Friday, too,” Melody croaked.
“He sure did. And if either of them gets another violation this coming week, they will be missing our holiday party next Friday,” her teacher said, and I could swear the corners of her lips turned up the slightest bit.
She was enjoying this.
Way to spread the holiday cheer.
My free hand fisted at my side, but I kept my composure.
“I see, Mrs. Grouch.” I forced a smile.
“It’s Mrs. Groucher,” she snipped.
“Oh yes. Sorry about that. The name really does suit you. Have a wonderful weekend.” I took the backpack from Melody while the older woman studied me as if she wasn’t sure if I’d just offended her intentionally.
I’d definitely offended her intentionally.
I’d be writing her ass into a book and torturing her in the future.
How dare she break the spirit of this little angel.
I turned, and we walked out the door, Melody’s hand in mine. Once we were outside, I bent down to face her again. “Look at me, sweet pea.”
“Okay, Winnie. I’m looking at you,” she said as a tear rolled down her cheek. “Do you think Daddy’s going to be mad at me for getting in trouble at school?”
“I don’t think so. You were helping a friend. And I understand that there are rules, but sometimes there are gray areas. And this was a gray area.” I swiped the tear away with the pad of my thumb.
“What’s a gray area mean?”
“It means sometimes you need to do something that might get you to miss Fun Friday because it’s the right thing to do.” I pulled her in for a hug. “You helped a friend who was asking for help. That’s never a bad thing.”
“Josh wasn’t in the class when she gave the ’rections. He came late to school, so he didn’t know what to do.”
He wasn’t even there?
My blood was boiling. How could he have listened if he wasn’t even there?
“Did Mrs. Groucher know that he missed the directions?”
“Yep. She said it was his choice that he was late, and his choice that he didn’t listen.” She shrugged. “And he was sniffing like he was trying not to cry. And my daddy told me to always help someone if they’re sad.”
“How about we have our own little Fun Friday?”
“You want to do centers and not talk to each other?” she asked, and I laughed.
“I don’t want to do that.” I pushed back up to stand. “I want to go get hot chocolate and cookies at the Honey Biscuit Café and then go pick out some gift wrap at Strawberry Fields because I told your daddy I’d help him wrap some Christmas presents this weekend.”
“That sounds like the best Fun Friday, Winnie.”
A gust of wind blew past us, and I zipped her coat up to just beneath her chin and took her hand in mine.
I had access to the car that Bridger had loaned me, but we usually walked most places because everything was so close.
We were only a block from downtown, and then it was just a short walk home.
“It sure does. Let’s do this.”
I sent a quick text to Archer to let him know that we were stopping for hot chocolate, because the man loved to know what we were doing. We texted all day, even when Melody was at school. He was always checking in.
He’d text to ask about dinner or activities, or he’d inquire about holiday shopping.
We’d become friends, and we spent a lot of time together.
But every night after we’d all have dinner, he’d end things fairly abruptly, which always made me wonder if maybe he was sneaking a woman in once he put Melody to bed.
But I’d woken up a few times in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep and I’d come into the kitchen to get a snack, and it had always been very quiet.
Maybe Archer Chadwick was a quiet lover.
Somehow, I doubted it.
And shame on me for wondering what type of lover my boss was.
He responded with a thumbs-up emoji, and we started walking to the Honey Biscuit Café.
“Winnie!” Melody came to a stop and looked up. “A snowflake just landed on my nose.”
The snow started to fall, and I chuckled. It had been cold these last few weeks since we’d returned from Paris, and everyone was shocked that it hadn’t snowed yet.
And here we were, walking down the sidewalk hand in hand, both of us smiling as the snowflakes fell all around us.
“This really is the best Fun Friday,” I said. I pulled the door open as my uncle Oscar hurried us inside.
“Well, if it isn’t my two favorite girls,” he said, hugging us both. “Do you want your favorite booth?” he asked Melody, and she shook her head yes.
“Did you get your words today?” he asked me, and I was grateful that he understood this profession that I’d chosen. Hell, he’d been the one to encourage me to do it.
“I wrote five thousand words, so it was a good day,” I said.
Melody gasped. “Five thousand words is lots of words, Winnie.”
“It’s a good writing day, that’s for sure.” Uncle Oscar winked at me. “Proud of you, Winnie girl.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you bothering these gorgeous girls?” Aunt Edith teased as she walked over and gave me a hug.
“Nope. Just asking if she got her words today and taking their order.”
“We’re going to have two hot chocolates, extra whipped cream and sprinkles, and a couple of cookies.” I helped Melody out of her coat as we settled in the booth.
My uncle said he’d go let the kitchen know, and my aunt chuckled as he walked off. “I think that man is living vicariously through you these days. He misses writing, even if he won’t admit it.”
“He should start writing again,” I said, knowing that it was his passion.
“After he made the decision to retire, he just said he was done with it.”
“He’s so talented. He could just write for fun, if he doesn’t want to do it as an actual profession anymore.”
“That’s a good idea. I think you could probably talk some sense into him.” Aunt Edith shrugged before heading back to the kitchen.
“I wants to be a writer someday like my Winnie.” Melody smiled up at me, and my chest squeezed.
“You can be whatever you want to be.”
“Mrs. Groucher says you can’t be whatever you wants to be.” She shrugged. “Josh Barker said he wanted to be a candy cane, and she said he couldn’t be one.”
“Well, he could make candy canes if he wanted to.” I chuckled. “And trust me when I tell you, Melody Chadwick: You can be whatever you set your mind to.”
“I want to be just like you, Winnie.” She leaned her head against my arm just as my uncle set our hot chocolates down with a big plate of cookies.
“I think we’re going to need one more hot cocoa, Oscar,” a deep voice said, and I turned to see Archer approach.
“Daddy!” Melody shouted. “You came to Fun Friday?”
He raised a brow at me in question, and I replied with a look that said I’d fill him in later.
We’d started communicating like this around Melody.
“I sure did. I heard you two were here, and I came right over.”
My uncle disappeared into the kitchen and returned with another hot chocolate.
And the three of us sat there talking about our days. We filled him in on what had happened at school, and I watched with absolute awe as he smiled at his daughter and told her that she’d done the right thing, even if it meant having to deal with a consequence that she didn’t like.
He didn’t disrespect her teacher.
He didn’t scold her for getting in trouble.
He just loved her.
I knew that kind of love from my own father.
Archer didn’t try to talk us out of stopping at Strawberry Fields for gift wrap. In fact, I caught him looking around as if he was actually interested.
And when we arrived home, they both said how good it smelled in the house, because I’d left a roast in the slow cooker.
“Admit you were wrong about the slow cooker,” I said with a laugh when Melody ran off to wash her hands.
“I didn’t say they weren’t good, just that I hadn’t used one.”
“You said they were ‘weird in concept,’ yet every meal I’ve made in this thing you’ve devoured.”
“Listen, you’re basically a gourmet cook. If you were cooking in an old-school hearth, it would still be good.” He laughed. “I don’t think it’s the slow cooker that’s making magic. That’s all you, Winnie.”
My breath caught in my throat at his words as he turned to grab a beer from the fridge.
When was the last time a man had made me feel like I was talented or special?
It had been a long time.
He held up a bottle for me, asking if I’d like a beer, and I shook my head no.
Alcohol did not mix well with the hot single dad in the house.
I knew myself way too well.