Chapter 5 – Hannah
Chapter Five
HANNAH
P ulling into a parking spot at the local elementary school, I take a moment to check my reflection in the rearview mirror. To my surprise, my pulse is racing.
Though I love teaching, it’s been years since I’ve actually set foot in a classroom. The demands of an in-person teaching job are heavy enough, but add fibromyalgia flare-ups to the mix, and it doesn’t end well.
So, I left my art classes at the high school. Just like I had to leave so much in life behind.
Yet now, here I am. About to teach a knitting class to kids, courtesy of Maya. While I once thought I’d left this passion behind for good, it turns out I only put it on pause.
Realizing that washes away any lingering anxiety. This is what I’m meant to be doing, where I’m meant to be.
Grabbing my purse and bag of things for the class, I leave the car and stride across the parking lot.
It feels weird to have left the shop so early in the afternoon, but Flick more than has it under control. Besides, I could use the distraction. I’ve already finished everything on my to-do list for the next two weeks, and I even completed two of the knitting projects I abandoned months ago.
It would probably be wise to slow down, just to prevent a flare-up, but I’ve been on hyperdrive the last few days. Ever since that date with Michael, he’s been on my mind nonstop.
We’ve texted a few times, but other than that, it’s been radio silence. Flick has assured me this is normal—he probably doesn’t want to come on too strong, and he might be busy with work and his daughter.
Even though she’s right, I can’t stop myself from checking my phone every five minutes. I feel like a teenager with a crush.
It’s thrilling. But terrifying too.
What if this whole thing crashes and burns? What if…
Shaking off the worries, I sign in at the front office. No more catastrophizing. Not for now anyway. It’s time to bring my A game.
After locating the classroom, I knock on the door and wait. Maya appears in the window, wearing a bright smile and a knit sweater over a sundress.
“Hi!” She opens the door for me to enter. “Class, this is our knitting teacher, Miss Hannah.”
The kids are gathered around the room, doing various things, but they all stop and turn to me. I smile and wave at them all, wondering which one of them is Katie—who Maya informed me would be in this class.
“Hi, everyone.” I lift the bag I’m carrying. “I brought lots of yarn to choose from. Today, we’re going to learn how to cast on, and then we’ll start scarves. How does that sound?”
The responses vary from completely ignoring me to clapping in excitement, which is to be expected. Putting the bag on a table, I start unpacking the skeins and needles.
“Thank you for this,” I whisper to Maya.
“Of course. I’m so glad you could come.”
When I mentioned to her that I need experience teaching crafting to add to my funding application, she jumped in with the offer to have me come to one of her classes. Luckily, the school cleared me as a volunteer almost immediately.
With the skeins set out, I turn back to the class. “Let’s start by picking out the color that you’ll use for your scarf.”
The kids advance on the table, and I scan their name tags. Right away, I find Katie. Her skin is darker than Michael’s, but she has the same wide mouth and intelligent eyes. The girl next to her, Rose, has a name tag with the same last name.
Katie’s cousin? And Jenny’s daughter?
Seeing them makes me nervous all over again. Have they heard about my date with Michael? Has he mentioned me to them at all?
Everyone takes a skein, and then we all gather on the cushions in the back corner of the room.
“To start off, you want to figure out how thick you want your scarf to be.” I demonstrate, then show them how to cast on stitches.
Predictably, some of the kids catch on right away, while others need to see me do it over and over again. It’s always like this when people first start knitting, and the jubilant look on their faces when they finally get it right never gets old.
Maya and I go around the cushions helping the students out, and when I reach Katie and Rose, I do my best to act like a normal person.
“Hi, girls. How’s it going?” I crouch next to them.
Katie holds up her skein. “We can’t decide if this is lavender or?—”
“Twilight,” Rose inserts. “It should be called twilight.”
I bite the inside of my cheek so that I don’t laugh. “I don’t remember what the manufacturer calls that color, but I suppose you can name it anything you want. How is casting on going?”
They show me their needles, where they each have successful rows of stitches.
“Beautiful,” I comment, handing Rose’s project back to her.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Katie watching me with her head cocked. When I turn to her, though, she quickly looks down.
Does she know who I am? That I went on a date with her father?
If so, what does she think of that? Does it make her curious about me? Irritated by my presence? It’s hard to put myself in her shoes. I never knew my father and Carol never married, so I don’t even have an uncle.
“Keep up the good work,” I force out before moving on to the next kid.
We don’t interact anymore the rest of class, and once our time is up, I grab my now-empty bag and give Maya a hug.
“This was great.” Maya releases me. “What are you doing tomorrow night? Would you like to get a drink?”
Warmth spreads through my chest. All these months, I’ve pretty much had one friend on Pine Island. One friend, no classes to teach, and no hot dates.
And now look at how my life is blossoming.
“I would love to,” I tell her. “I’ll text you later.”
With a final goodbye to the class, I head out. My steps are perky, a song flowing from my lips. Sliding behind the wheel of my car, I put it in reverse and back out of the parking spot.
I have so much going for me, it feels like nothing could ever go wrong again. I almost don’t even care if Michael ever calls for a second date. There’s so much?—
The piercing noise of metal on metal fills the air, and my car bumps to a halt. I’ve backed up right into a pickup truck.
In the blink of an eye, my luck has turned upside down.
“Oh my God,” I gasp.
I turn around in my seat, waiting for the furious parent or teacher to emerge and yell at me. The man who gets out, though, looks oddly familiar.
I blink. Blink again.
It’s Michael .
My jaw drops. Seriously?
I’m still trying to decide whether this makes the situation better or worse by the time he reaches my car door. My face burning, I roll down the window.
“Hello,” I squeak out.
Surprise flashes across his face, but a second later, he’s grinning. “What do you know?”
“I’m sorry.” I cringe, wanting to dig a hole and crawl into it. According to everything I’ve learned online, I’m supposed to be playing hard to get right now—and driving into a man’s vehicle is the opposite.
“How are you?” He bends forward so we’re face-to-face.
I’ve just backed into his truck, and this is what he starts with? “I’m…good. How are you?”
“Better now.”
I have to laugh. “I just hit your truck.”
“Eh. She’ll be fine. Your car, on the other hand…”
“Maybe my plan will cover it.” I scramble for my insurance card, afraid to even know what he sees back there.
“You’re leaving your class here, right? Katie told me about it. What are you doing now? Are you busy?”
I stop digging through my purse. “Um, no. My friend is at the store covering for me. I was going to go home and rest.”
I swallow hard, wanting to tell him why I need to rest before I’m even tired but finding that explaining this requires Herculean strength.
“Hmm.” He scratches his chin. “How about I take you to my friend’s auto shop. He owes me a favor. I can have him buff off the scratch on your bumper.”
“That’s not necessary. It was my fault, and?—”
“I want to do it. I can text Jenny and have her pick up Katie and her cousin.” His eyes bore into mine, and I lose strength in each muscle, including my tongue.
“O-okay,” I stammer. “Thanks.”
“Perfect.” There’s that smile again. The one that’s so blinding it puts the sun to shame. When he turns it on me, I would probably do just about anything he asked.
“Perfect,” I repeat, because my brain is mush and I can’t think of anything original to say.
“I’ll lead the way.” He strides to his truck, and I follow him away from school and to the bridge that connects the mainland to Pine Island.
What at first seemed like a wrench thrown into an amazing week is turning into another blessing. The universe seems to want Michael and me to be together.
For the first time in a long while, every area of my life is looking up. I don’t even feel like I’m waiting for the next shoe to drop.
Grinning like crazy, I leave my window down and catch a fresh breeze, not minding the chill. It really feels like nothing could hurt me right now anyway—and, perhaps, ever again.