Chapter 24 #2
Reed shook his head. “We never even knew who he was. I don’t think Caroline had a clue either. She, um—” He dropped his hands into his lap. This was the least comfortable I’d ever seen him, so without thinking, I placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, and his eyes immediately snapped to it.
After a pause, he placed his on mine and squeezed.
The pressure from his grip took me back to each reassuring squeeze he’d given me since we’d met.
As we danced that first night. Seconds before we were launched by the parasail.
When he made sure our goodbye felt like “see you soon.” But this time, he was searching for that comfort himself, so I squeezed back.
Was this more contact than I’d ever shown a parent in a professional capacity? By far yes. But it was him. He was baring his heart. In that moment, we were friends. It was okay to be a little more than people who knew each other before. It had to be.
He kept his gaze on the table and, to my surprise, continued, “Caroline struggled with addiction since she was in high school.” He set both hands back in his lap again, making me miss his touch.
“She never got along with our stepdad, and that changed her relationship with my mother too. That transition, those years, were really tough.”
Still gripping his shoulder, I sighed and patted him a few times before pulling away. “That must have been so hard on…” I was going to say “you and your family,” but then my thoughts drifted to Abi.
Reed must have caught where my thoughts wandered, and he looked over his shoulder toward the living room.
Pig snorts and giggles emanated from where Abi was tucked in safe and sound.
“Caroline was a good mom. She tried to be better for Abi. I tried to help her be better for Abi.” He sighed and turned back, looking over at my notebook.
“All right, sorry. Event planning. PTA. Let’s do this.
” His effort to perk up his voice and pick up some of the heavy he’d just laid out in front of us was commendable, but it hurt my heart.
I swallowed down the empathy that tugged me toward him and opened my notebook, trying to be all business, while what I really wanted was to pull him into me, kiss every part of his face, stare into his eyes, and tell him how beautiful he was and how much good he put into the world.
I cleared my throat. “Event planning. Yes. Let’s brainstorm, annnnnd go.”
We brainstormed, joked, bantered, snacked, and eventually planned.
Two hours later, we had a solid idea of what to bring to the board.
I texted Jill about a tentative board meeting to propose our plans and move on with our committee.
“Jill is asking for us to present at next week’s meeting. Tuesday at seven.”
Reed scrunched his mouth. “I can’t, I have plans.”
Oh. Plans. Okay.
“Is the reigning queen of Aisling going to cast her wrath upon me if I can’t make that time?”
I held back a chuckle, then recalled how Reed sat next to Jill at the PTA meeting. And how she looked pretty friendly with him. Gag. In a moment of bravery, I asked, “Do you know Jill?”
He made a scoffing sound, then rubbed his hand down his face. “Unfortunately, yes.”
This piqued my interest. I tried not to show any relief at his use of the word unfortunately.
Jill didn’t hide the fact that she disliked me.
The reason, now that was the mystery. Her youngest was in my class a couple of years ago, but other than Jill being a spectacular “room mom,” I had very few run-ins with her.
Out of nowhere, it seemed, she decided I wasn’t her cup of tea.
I gave no thought to this before, but now that the principal candidacy was open, her relation as daughter dearest to the trustee board’s president, Phil Trumaine, seemed like reason enough to care.
“She nearly attacked me on the first day of school, showed me around, flirted an obscene amount. It was awkward.” Reed grimaced.
“I was trying to be as nice as possible without sending out any signals of interest, but I feel like when we wrapped up my tour, she was running off to gather wedding magazines.”
My shoulders relaxed as a breathy laugh escaped. “Well, I mean, a girl can dream, right? You’re clearly a keeper. All that ginger goodness.” Heat flooded my cheeks as I took my turn to be embarrassed. “Well, that was unprofessional. I’ll show myself out.”
He shrugged as a smile spread across his lips.
Shooting Jill a quick text, dots appeared right away, but I locked down my phone instead of waiting for her response. “Okay, no worries. I’m sure I can present on my own.”
Reed nodded. “Cool.”
Yep. Cool.
If there was ever a word for “Night’s over. Let’s pack up,” cool was it.
I grabbed my notebook and reached down for my tote.
“Heading out?” he asked as he began to tidy our banquet of bowls.
“Yeah.” I stretched out the aaaah. “I think Darcy is dragging me to karaoke tonight.” A lie.
He crossed his arms and nodded. “Sounds cool.”
Yep. Cool.
Once I had all my belongings, he walked me to the door.
“Ms. Vilotta!” Abi ran up and grabbed my leg with a big squeeze.
I patted her head. “Good night, Abigail. I’ll see you at school on Monday.”
“Don’t go.” She pouted and tugged on my arm. I smiled down at her and then up at Reed. He had a far-off look as he watched Abi pull on me. “Watch Peppa Pig with me. This is the one when they get all muddy in the rain.”
Reed’s brows shot up, and just as I thought he was going to save me from the situation, he wiggled those brows at me as if to say “Yes, stay for Peppa.” For real, dude?
“Um, okay.” I hesitantly let myself be pulled to the couch.
Abi sat next to me, cuddled right up to my side, and pulled the blanket across both our laps.
This was so outside the realm of my profession.
The lines were already blurry with Reed, just a smudge, but the lines with Abi were a bit fuzzy too, and that worried me the most.
She patted the spot next to her, where there was barely a clearing in the laundry pile. “Uncle Reed, you too. Just this one?”
He sighed but scooted the laundry over, then squished in next to Abi. She expertly handled the remote, and the snorts and giggles began.
Three episodes later, I finally escaped after being enticed with Cheez-Its and an applesauce cup. What could I say, I was an easy sell.
Reed walked me to the door and stepped outside with me. “Thank you.” In a swoony move, he leaned his body against the doorframe.
“It was nothing. I secretly have a membership to the Peppa Pig Fan Club.”
His quiet laugh was sweetness to my ears, so deep and true. It was a welcoming sound after his somber voice from before.
As I drove home, I wondered how this was all going to work. Reed already clutched my heart months ago and apparently still had a squeeze on it. But now the little girl who shared her Goldfish and guided me, with sticky hands, to join her in her cozy spot tugged on my heart too.