Chapter 2
One hundred plus children, hyped up on Christmas cheer and a change in schedule, began to file out the doors as one class after another was escorted back to their classrooms. The giggles and chatter that bounced around the gym as easily as a red rubber ball at recess faded a little more with each departure.
Esther Adams hooked a finger in the top of her mock neck sweater and pulled it away from her skin as the chaos that had been the past hour began to settle into something a bit more manageable.
She wiggled the top of her sweater trying desperately to find some cooling relief.
Note to self: No high necks, no long sleeves, and no sweaters were to be worn for concert-directing wear ever again.
Corralling the choir and keeping them focused took even more work than keeping a roomful of five-year-olds from dumping out the little bottles of glitter rather than sprinkling their snowmen delicately.
She looked down at her now sparkly red sweater.
Yeah. That hadn’t gone well either. Why exactly had she wanted to be a teacher?
At present, she wasn’t sure her reasons hadn’t been based on a romantic notion.
She shook her head and drew a deep, calming breath.
She still had a class to deal with – her own.
“I thought that went pretty well,” Fred said as her students stood waiting for her in a rather wiggly line that wandered left and then right.
She gave him an “are you crazy” look.
“No, I’m not crazy,” he answered before turning towards her group of mischief-makers.
“You guys are pretty awesome, but then, how could you be anything less than awesome with a teacher like Miss Adams? Am I right or am I right?” He held out his hand for several high-fives before he swung his guitar case across his back, slapped his hands on his legs and stood perfectly straight and still. “I’m ready to go, Miss Adams.”
The children laughed, and she shook her head at his ridiculousness. But that was Fred. He had always been entertaining, and she had yet to meet any kid that didn’t like him. In fact, it wasn’t easy to find anyone of any age who didn’t enjoy being friends with him.
Well. Except. Maybe for Mandy.
“Mr. Fred, would you like to be the engine or the caboose for our line?” she asked.
“Is he coming to class with us?” Logan’s question was as hope-filled as any question could be and just more proof that Fred was loved by one and all, because Logan was not easily impressed – by anyone. The thought made her smile and a tiny bit of the stress that this day had been slipped away.
“Yes, Logan, he is coming with us because I have some work to do, and he offered to help me do it.”
“Is he your boyfriend?” Mia asked. She was an inquisitive child with a love for fairy tales and Disney princesses. Her mom shared that love since Mia was named after a character in a movie about a princess.
“Nope. Just her friend,” Fred answered. “Since grade four.”
“Wow!” Logan said. “That’s a long time!”
“It sure is,” Fred agreed with a chuckle.
Esther frowned. It wasn’t that long! It wasn’t that short either, but she wasn’t as old as Logan made it sound like she was.
“Madison’s dad is Miss Adams’s boyfriend,” Savannah said.
“Is he?” Esther asked her.
Savannah nodded. “Madison has a babysitter tonight because you’re going on a date.”
Savannah was destined for some detail-oriented career in the future – probably an investigative journalist – because that child knew all the details, all the time, and never seemed to forget any of them. Not even when you wanted her to forget them.
“That makes him your boyfriend,” Savannah concluded.
“Nah,” Fred inserted. “That makes him her dinner date and possible boyfriend. It takes a bit more than one date to be firmly cemented together as boyfriend/girlfriend. At least it does for adults. I’d wait a few more dates before declaring him to be her boyfriend.”
Esther’s eyes were likely as wide as Savannah’s were. “Is that so?”
“Yep. That’s how it works.” Fred’s expression was confident. Just like it always was when he thought he was right.
“How many?” Savannah asked.
“How many what?” Fred asked.
“Dates.” Both Savannah’s voice and look added an unspoken “duh.”
“Oh, that can differ from couple to couple, but I’d say at least three with plans to have more.”
Savannah’s brow furrowed, then lifted right before she nodded and said, “That makes sense.”
Hmmm. No argument from Savannah? Fred was magic incarnate. Savannah was rarely without a follow-up question – or ten. “Well, then, now that we have that figured out, Mr. Fred – engine or caboose?”
“Caboose.”
“Excellent choice. Then, everyone, let’s straighten our train so that Mr. Fred can join it. Thomas, would you please come up here and be the engine?”
“Yes, Miss Adams.”
Several of the other children giggled softly, as they always did when she asked Thomas to be the engine.
They weren’t making fun of him because he had the same name as a cartoon train engine.
Oh, no! To this group, that was something that made Thomas cool, and a vast array of emotions for five-year-olds came out as giggles.
Or pouts. Or tears. Giggles, at present, were perfectly acceptable.
Half an hour later, and with a little less stress than normal because Fred was the Pied Piper of Primary kids, all of Esther’s students had been delivered to their parents or the afterschool program, and Fred sat in one of the chairs next to the least glittered art table.
“The janitor isn’t going to like you today,” he said, as he drew his finger across the table and lifted it. “Sparkly doesn’t begin to describe it.”
No. No, it didn’t. That corner of her classroom looked like it had been hit by a sparkle storm. Probably, because it had been. A forty-hand sparkle storm.
“It was a disaster,” she said. “So much glitter and mayhem.” She shook her head. Never again would she do a project like the one she had attempted today. Or, at least, she wouldn’t do it in the same way she had done it today. There’d be far more controls in place next time.
“Believe it or not, I’ve already cleaned up most of it, and I’ll make sure to bring Mr. Brown a cupcake on Monday as an apology for the work he’s going to have to do in here.
” She dropped into her desk chair and exhaled.
“Maybe I should just take everything home. I could use some relaxation,” in a tub filled with warm water and bubbles, “before I have to get stressed over going out with Steve.”
“Nah, give me the circles and the scissors. I’m pretty fast at this stuff. Remember all the things we cut out for my mom when she was teaching Sunday school?”
Esther chuckled. “I remember you whining about having to do it.”
“Yeah, well, I was a kid who didn’t like to sit still. Sitting still was for Eddie.”
That was true. Eddie had always been a bit more sedentary than Fred or any of his other brothers. Well, except for Will, Fred’s oldest brother. Will would do whatever he needed to do to be the best at something – anything, really – including sitting still longer than any of his brothers.
Esther pulled open the side drawer on her desk and fished out the adult scissors as she pondered the Bennett brothers.
Apparently, the “Sitting Game” was something that their mother had taught them as youngsters, and they continued it as they grew older, while making it “more fun” by adding in one person who could torment the sitters.
She shook her head in amusement as she took a folder of circles she had photocopied this morning from the shelf behind her desk.
How Mrs. Bennett had survived raising five fun-loving boys like hers and still managed to look younger than her age, she’d never know.
But, she might, one day, ask her for the secret.
Because too many more days like today were likely to give her grey hair before she was thirty.
“Here you go,” she said as she placed the folder next to the scissors on her desk. “And you can sit over here to cut them out. I’ll pull the recycling bin over for the scraps. There are far less sparkles at my desk. I’d hate to send you home too shiny.”
Fred chuckled. “That would be the opposite of how I go home most days.”
“Hey.” Steve White, Madison’s dad, poked his head into the room before stepping in completely. “I was going to text, but it seemed easiest to just stop by when picking up Maddie.” He nodded to Fred. “Is it Fred or Eddie?”
“Fred.” He held up his page of circles. “Just helping Esther get out of here in time to do some unwinding before the big date.”
Esther rolled her eyes. Did he really think he needed to explain why he was here, sitting next to her, at her desk?
“That’s kind of you,” Steve replied.
“I was here to play for the kids because Monica – I don’t know her teacher name – was sick.”
And why was Fred shrugging off Steve’s compliment? A thank you would have sufficed.
“You play the piano?” Steve asked.
“Nah, that’s Eddie’s instrument. I play the guitar.”
“And a few other things, including the keyboard when needed,” Esther inserted.
“Yeah, but not like Eddie, and I only know a few worship songs.”
“Worship songs, eh?” Steve leaned against the doorframe and nodded as if he was impressed. “I knew you were part of the same group at your church as Esther. That must come in handy if the regular keyboardist is unavailable.”
“We have more than one who plays keyboard for us, but I’ve had to fill in a few times – mostly at practice and not on Sunday.”
“He organizes the worship team schedule.” Esther rose from her desk and crossed the room to where Steve was standing. That way, whatever he needed to tell her wouldn’t be called across the room, since it looked like he didn’t plan to actually come into the room.
“You’re shining brighter than most days,” he said with a smirk.