by Donna Fasano
"He told Andrew he 'didn't know no better then' and that Andrew needed to get to the back of the line."
They both chuckled.
"Of course, I had to correct his double negative," she told Derrick. "But I believe Timmy's starting to learn the value of treating others as he'd like to be treated, and all the children are benefiting from the lesson on manners and respecting one another."
"I think it does make sense," Derrick said after a moment of silence, "since Timmy's spent the majority of his years with adults, that he doesn't realize other kids have rights, too, that his peers deserve the same sort of politeness he'd give to you or me."
"And he seems to be realizing that he deserves the same respect from others," she said, "hence his telling Andrew to wait his turn. Of course, it's only been a few days. But I really do think this is the answer to a big part of his problem."
"Aren't you glad—"
Anna could hear the boyish grin in his voice, and even though she had no idea what he was about to say, she had to smile when she so easily pictured the charming expression on his handsome face.
"—I didn't allow you to send him to Special Ed?"
"Derrick! I did not want to send him—"
"Okay, okay," he rushed to concede. "That Instructional Team thing you talked about."
Anna just shook her head as she smiled. "I'm happy to say that we've found what looks like a solution to Timmy's behavior problem," she told him. "But I still think that my idea of some counseling sessions wasn't a bad one."
"I'm just glad that it looks like we're going to be able to help Tim," he said. "Together."
Had he purposefully placed that sensual emphasis on the last word he spoke, or was it simply her imagination? She didn't dwell on the question, but rather asked one of her own.
"How are things there?"
"Well, I think things are improving. I told Tim that I really needed his help around the house, and we sat down together and came up with a list of chores for him to do."
The sound of his chuckle made a silky shiver race up her spine.
"Of course," he continued, "you were absolutely right when you told me he wouldn't be able to do the jobs as well as I could, but I try hard to leave things alone and just live with the less-than-perfect results."
Derrick sighed, and the sound of it so near to her ear made her feel he was close enough that she could reach out and touch him. If she were to simply close her eyes, she could conjure up an image of his handsome face, his sexy mouth, with no trouble at all—
Dragging open her eyelids, Anna set her lips in a firm line. She had to stay focused!
"And we're actually spending time together," he went on. "Quality time. Not as much as I'd like. But it seems he's closing himself in his room a little less often. Although, he still spends a lot of time alone. I wish he wouldn't, but I don't know what to do about it short of removing his bedroom door from its hinges." He smirked. "Of course, I'm kidding, but I sometimes want to take some drastic measures to make us less like housemates and more like a family."
"Stop being so negative," she said softly. "This is good. You'll get there." And then she felt her mouth tipping up in a smile, heard the warmth in her tone as she said, "It's better than good, actually. It's wonderful, Derrick. Think about it. He's making notable progress. We can't expect him to change overnight. Socialization is a learned skill set. But we are seeing change. I'm very happy for you and Timmy."
Silent seconds ticked by, but the stillness was neither awkward nor uncomfortable.
"I talked to him," Derrick said, "about his being afraid when we're out on the boat..."
He sighed, the sound of his exhalation a vivid reminder of his breath so close to her ear right before he'd kissed her. Just as on Saturday, the sound of it sent waves of electricity coursing across her skin.
"It took me a while to get the truth out of him," he said. "But I finally was able to find out what was wrong. Can you believe he doesn't know how to swim? He told me all he can think about when we're out in the boat is that, if he fell overboard, the water would be over his head. The poor kid spends every moment out on the water worried about drowning."
There was a sudden edge to his voice, and she knew she didn't need to respond to his question.
"I don't understand," he said, "how James could not have taken the time to see that his son had swimming lessons."
Anna wasn't surprised. Working with children year in and year out, she came into contact with many parents who just didn't have time for their children.
"So, I've offered to teach him myself. And he's accepted. I'm sure this will be really good for us. Help us develop some trust. Help us bond. I think this could be a giant step for us."
The quiet pride and obvious sense of success that flowed in the rich texture of his voice caused a chain reaction of emotions inside Anna. The first was pure, unadulterated pleasure. She was so happy to hear Derrick feeling self-assured about raising Timmy. She also felt gratified and content that she might have given him a little help in finding his way to this place of budding self-confidence. Then the feelings that arose inside her twisted just the tiniest bit, becoming more personal, more intimate, too intimate. She cut them off as completely as she possibly could before they had time to actually form, but not before her rise in blood pressure made her all hot and flustered.
"I'm glad to hear that," she said, striving to keep her voice sounding as unemotional as possible. It was difficult, though, because she cared about Timmy. And Derrick.
Her eyes widened. The revelation frightened her. She refused to allow herself to care about Derrick. She couldn't take the chance. Didn't think she would survive the inescapable hurt and pain he would cause her. Dear God, she couldn't let it happen. Not again. Never again.
"Oh," he said, "by the way..."
His soft chuckle reverberated in her ear and sent yet another inadvertent yet utterly delicious shudder radiating through her. She resisted the powerful urge to close her eyes and sink into it. Darn it! Why did she allow this man to do this to her? As quickly as possible, she suppressed the shiver and took a slow, deep breath. She was so glad he wasn't actually here to see her all too physical reaction to him.
"Tim asked me an interesting question."
"Oh?"
"Yes," Derrick said. "He wanted to know why Miss Maxwell went sailing with us."
"And what did you tell him?"
She couldn't see his face, but she was certain she felt him smile.
"The truth," he said. "I told him that because I've spent so little time around kids his age, I needed some help. And what better place to find help—"
Again, a chuckle. Anna's grip tightened on the cell phone. Her palm grew moist and she discovered she'd unwittingly pressed her ear closer to the sound of his voice.
"—than from a teacher who spends her days working with five-year-olds?"
Forcing herself to relax, she asked, "And did he accept your explanation?"
"Oh, sure," he said. "But not before he clarified that some of the kids in his class were six."
She smiled in spite of the chaotic state her emotions were in. "That doesn't surprise me," she told Derrick. "Timmy's a very intelligent, very precise child."
Anna felt a little better, seeing as how the conversation was focused solely on Timmy. She took another deep, quiet inhalation, allowing some of the tension to leave her body as she slowly expelled the breath.
"When can I see you again?"
The question took her completely off guard. She'd fully expected Timmy to remain the topic of their conversation.
"Well... I... no... you see," she stammered. Nervous adrenaline shot through her body. Talking with Derrick made her feel as though she were on some turning, looping amusement park ride—a ride that was deceptively calm one moment, whipping and thrashing the next.
Words, thoughts, and partially formed phrases whirled through her mind like hailstones, pinging and pounding, until she felt the need to flee for her o
wn personal protection.
This time the silence was more than awkward as she frantically sought for something to say.
"Anna?"
She couldn't bring herself to speak and, closing her eyes, she willed her heart to stop pounding in her chest.
"I'm here," she said, feeling as though she were about to come apart at the seams.
"Look," he told her, his voice like warm honey, "I'm very grateful for all that you've done for me and Timmy. Let me express my gratitude, let me take you to dinner."
She wanted to accept. God, how she wanted to say yes. She wanted to see him again. But she knew it wasn't wise.
"That's not necessary, Derrick," she told him, pleased at how she'd succeeded in keeping the words unemotional and, instead, stressing a professional tone.
"But—" he hesitated "—I'd really like to."
Anna heard the bewilderment that tinged his words. She hated to rebuff him, but it was easier to do it now than to wait until their relationship had progressed and she was the one left feeling abandoned and alone.
"I appreciate that," she told him. "Honestly, I do. But I just don't think it would be a good idea." Quickly, before he could respond and ask for reasons, she plowed on, "We've discovered a lot about Timmy recently. You two have begun to build a wonderful relationship. I think the best thing for you to do is to focus on it, keep working at it."
A wave of panic rolled over her, threatening to drown her calm facade. Did that pseudo-excuse sound as lame to him as it did to her? She felt a sudden desperation to end the conversation, end it now before he had a chance to bombard her with questions, before he had a chance to confront her with the desire they both knew they had felt for each other just four short days ago.
He wouldn't be so bold as to do that, would he? She stifled a groan. He just might.
"I'll continue working with Timmy at this end," she blurted out in a rush. "If you have any problems, feel free to call me. But for right now, I think we have separate goals we need to strive toward."
She gave him a very professional and well-practiced, "have a good day," and then ended the call. The disconnection had been blatantly abrupt, she knew. She hadn't even said goodbye. But the brusque farewell had been unavoidable, for the emotion that swelled in her throat made it nearly impossible for her to speak another word.
Sadness wrapped itself around her. Unshed tears blurred her vision. She knew the sorrow she felt was for the loss of what might have been between herself and Derrick. Some nebulous possibility, a host of murky maybes. But then she remembered the kiss they'd shared, recalled the passion in his dark gaze, and she realized there was nothing nebulous or hazy about where a relationship between them would go.
But she had to protect herself. A relationship with him would never have worked out. Not when she was so very limited in what she could give him. As soon as he discovered that she was... defective, he'd leave her.
From the outer corner of her eye a tear trailed slowly down her cheek. She dashed it away.
"This is for the best," she proclaimed, her tone weak and shaky sounding. She inhaled deeply and cleared her throat, and in a stronger voice, she repeated, "For the best."
* * *
Anna took a covert glance across the classroom. Timmy wasn't himself today. She'd already heard him engage in a verbal battle this morning with Eric, one of his best friends in the class. Just as she was about to speak to the boys, little April, the resident peacemaker of the group, had arbitrated, and the incident had subsided. Anna liked it when her students worked out their differences for themselves.
Most all of her students had already had quite a bit of socialization training and practice under their belts what with attending daycare and preschool and having siblings to deal with. However, she knew from what Derrick had told her about Timmy that the child had had little-to-no exposure to other children his own age prior to coming into her kindergarten classroom.
When she'd set down the rules, he'd seemed almost relieved to know there were boundaries. And he'd done so well following the regulations.
Lord, she couldn't believe it had only been two weeks since she'd last spoken with Derrick. The days had dragged by until she felt months had passed since her telephone call to him—the call during which she'd snuffed out any chance of a relationship with the man by rebuffing him and then practically hanging up in his ear. He'd been interested in her. She knew that. But she couldn't… she just couldn't—
No, she admonished herself, slamming the door on the thought. Do not think about Derrick.
She sighed wearily. Her feelings for the man must be stronger than she'd first realized, because she'd closed the door on thoughts of him dozens and dozens of times over the past couple of weeks. But somehow her memory of him kept knocking on her consciousness, tap, tap, tapping its way into her senses.
Having Timmy in her class made it especially hard to drive Derrick from her mind. She saw the child every weekday, heard him talk about his daily routine with Derrick. That made it impossible for her not to think about him. It was agony.
Resting her elbow on the desktop, her chin in the palm of her hand, Anna closed her eyelids. Who was she kidding? She couldn't believe she was actually sitting here trying to blame her misery on a little boy when she knew very well that prying the sexy Derrick Richmond from the nooks and crannies of her brain would be impossible whether Timmy was one of her students or not.
The sound of loud voices drew her attention to the free play area at the opposite corner of the room. The rainy day had forced the children to take their recess period inside, so she expected lots of noise and laughter. But the very atmosphere at the other end of the room had taken an angry turn. And Timmy was right in the center of the ruckus.
He was about to get himself into trouble. Anna hoped he wouldn't, but she had seen his behavior over the course of the day growing more and more out of control.
"I said come over here," Timmy demanded of Eric. "Right now!"
"I'm playin' a game of checkers," Eric complained.
Anna could tell Eric was a bit baffled by Timmy's argumentative tone.
"He's playin' with me right now," Andrew said.
Andrew was thin, his complexion sallow, but his frail appearance was misleading. Anna knew he could give as good as he got when he was challenged by a peer.
"Boys," Anna called, getting their attention, "we need to remember to use quiet voices. You know there are other classes in session."
Seeing April hurry toward the verbal altercation, Anna marveled once again at the psychological dynamics at work within her group of twenty-eight students.
"I'll play a game with you, Timmy," April suggested.
Anna suppressed a warm smile. That little girl's going to end up being some sort of diplomat, she thought, and she forced her attention to the spelling papers she'd been grading.
A flurry of violent movement and words had Anna out of her seat in an instant.
"Boys!" she called sharply as she marched toward the back of the room where Andrew and Timmy were engaged in a shoving match.
She reached out and pulled the two boys apart. The entire class of curious children gathered around to see what was happening.
"What is going on here?" she asked.
The boys grew still and silent, but she could feel the anger radiating from both of them. Glancing around her, the scattered red and black plastic discs from the checker game answered some of her question.
"Did you do this?" She directed her question at Timmy.
He jutted out his chin defiantly, but didn't answer.
Anna gazed across the game board to where Eric sat, his eyes wide with fearful excitement. Then she turned her attention to poor, miserable April.
"Why is April crying?" Anna asked. Keeping the boys spread an arm's length apart, she asked the little girl, "Are you hurt, sweetheart?"
Her tiny chin trembled and she pointed an accusing finger at Timmy. "Miss Maxwell, he called me a girl!" she said.
"Well, April, you are a girl," Anna pointed out with calm practicality. "And there's nothing at all wrong with being a girl. I'm a girl." Then she said to clarify, "A female. And half the people on the planet are female."
She could tell from the expression on April's face that the little girl was listening intently. Her tears had stopped, but there was still a deep frown between her brows.
Anna felt more needed to be said to all of these children to eradicate the male chauvinism that had just shown itself.
"Girls are just as smart as boys, you know," she told them. "And we're just as capable as boys too. Girls can do anything." She looked at April. "It's nice being a girl."
April was feeling better, Anna could see that.
Suddenly the little girl piped up, "And we're pretty too."
Fighting hard to hold back the chuckle that threatened to erupt from her throat, Anna let the statement slide. Normally, she might have given a small speech against narcissism, but she knew it was more important at the moment for April to regain some of her lost dignity.
"You know, Timmy," Anna said, "it wasn't nice to hurt April's feelings."
Timmy's eyes narrowed, his little body still rigid with anger. "I'm not playin' with no girl."
Anna's brows rose at the disdain in his tone. Because she'd seen him playing with the girls in the class before, she knew the hateful words came solely from the anger and frustration he was feeling about the situation with Eric.
"I'm not playing with any girl," she corrected. "Anger isn't an excuse to use poor English."
She released her hold on Andrew and turned Timmy around so she could talk to him, face-to-face.
"Did you interrupt the checker game?" she asked.
"Andrew was takin' Eric away from me." Timmy nearly shouted the accusation. "If Andrew hadn't set up that stupid checker game, Eric would have been able to—"
"Stop right there," she interrupted. "Eric is your friend. You know that. Andrew is your friend too. I've seen you play with him. But Eric and Andrew like each other. And they have a right to be friends." She let one of her hands drop to her side. "Besides, Eric has a mind of his own. I heard him tell you that he was playing a game of checkers."
