An Unplanned Lesson

by Beth Rinyu

  Dear Mr. O’Maley,

  I would like to see if we could set up a time to meet and discuss Ryan’s recent behavior and grades in school. I understand that it’s only the second week of school, but I would like to address this matter as soon as possible so that we can work on a solution before it gets out of hand. I am available to meet any day before or after school. If you would just let me know what works best for you, I would be happy to accommodate your schedule.

  Thank you so much for your support and I look forward to working together in making this a successful school year for Ryan.

  Sincerely,

  Nicole Morgan

  I hit the “send” button, hoping that I could get this all resolved easily and have a great school year.

  “Hey, you’re still here?” Sarah poked her head in.

  “Yeah, just finishing up. I’m meeting my girlfriends for happy hour,” I said.

  “Oh, happy hour, those were the days,” Sarah said.

  “Would you like to join us?” I asked.

  “Oh, no thanks, sweetie, I have to get up early; we’re going to college open houses for my daughter tomorrow. But have a drink for me!”

  “I will,” I said with a smile.

  “Have a great weekend,” she said as she headed down the hallway.

  I was just about to turn my computer off when I heard the dinging of an incoming e-mail. Another Ryan O’Maley complaint, no doubt. But when I looked at the e-mail, it was a response from Ryan’s uncle instead.

  Dear Ms. Morgan:

  I believe, as a teacher, you are responsible for Ryan’s behavior from the hours of 9:00 to 3:00. That is what you get paid for. If Ryan is not excelling academically, I believe that falls under your realm of duties as well. With that being said, I really don’t understand what benefit meeting with me would have. I am a lawyer, not a teacher. That is what you have your degree in and if you are any good at your job, you should be able to do that without any assistance from me.

  If you still wish to meet, I will be out of town for a good part of next week so unless you are willing to travel to Boston to accommodate my schedule, I won’t be available until next Thursday afternoon at 4 pm.

  Yours truly,

  Dailan O’Maley

  My jaw dropped upon reading his e-mail. What a jerk! I immediately became more sympathetic toward Ryan, having to deal with an uncle like him. He was no doubt some stuffy old lawyer who thought he knew it all.

  I quickly responded so I wouldn’t have to deal with Mr. O’Maley any more until Thursday.

  Dear Mr. O’Maley,

  Thank you for your quick reply. Thursday afternoon at 4 p.m. works for me. I look forward to meeting you.

  Sincerely,

  Nicole Morgan

  I finally logged off my computer and called it a day. After that e-mail from Ryan’s uncle, I was in desperate need of a drink. I quickly ran home to freshen up. I changed into my favorite boot-cut jeans, a white tank, and a pair of black flip-flops. I reapplied my make-up and ran some styling cream through my loose waves. Donna and Kara were meeting me at my house, which was right up the street from the bar to which we were heading. I was just finishing up when I heard them coming through the front door.

  “Leave it to Nicole to make just a plain old pair of blue jeans and a tank top look totally glamorous,” Kara said upon seeing me.

  “Yeah, well, the fact that she’s toothpick thin helps a lot too,” Donna said as she went into the fridge to grab a bottle of water.

  “Are we ready?” I asked as I grabbed my black blazer off the chair.

  “Yup,” they said in unison.

  We decided to walk, just in case any of us had too much to drink. I filled them both in along the way about the nasty e-mail that I had gotten from Ryan’s uncle. They both formed the same opinion of him as I had – he was a jerk!

  We entered PJ’s Bar and we were immediately greeted by ’80s dance music that was being played by the DJ. We sat down at a table and ordered a round of margaritas. Two hours and many margaritas later, we were all feeling our problems wash away. We would giggle hysterically over something the other had said, make fun of the drunken women out on the dance floor who were making fools of themselves, and check out every handsome guy that walked through the door. Donna would remind us constantly that it was okay for her to look as long as she didn’t sample the merchandise, causing us once again to giggle like cackling fools.

  We decided we were done with the drinks and we were just going to finish up our chips and salsa and then leave, when the waitress came over with another round of margaritas.

  “Oh, we didn’t order those,” Donna said.

  “Those two gentlemen over there did,” the waitress said as she pointed to two men standing at the bar. From what I could see in the dim lights, one of them had sandy blond hair and was wearing khaki pants and a black polo shirt. The other, who was much taller, was wearing blue jeans and a white button-up Oxford shirt.

  The shorter blond made his way over to our table and asked Kara if she wanted to dance. She smiled and looked at me and Donna. We both raised our eyebrows and took a sip of the margaritas that were placed in front of us. We watched as Kara became one of those drunken women out on the dance floor that we had just been making fun of. I was shoveling in the chips and salsa in an effort to sober up, when I dripped some salsa on my jeans.

  “Damn,” I shouted over the music.

  “Club soda,” Donna screamed.

  “Oh yeah, good thinking!” I said as I got up to walk over to the bar, spotting Michael, Donna’s fiancé, walking toward us.

  “Oh boy, looks like I’m going to be driving the drunks home tonight,” he said, laughing and giving Donna a kiss on the cheek.

  I tried to make my way in at the bar to order my club soda. I found an opening between two businessmen and the taller brown-haired man who had bought us the margaritas.

  “Hey, thanks for the drink,” I screamed, hoping that he would hear me over the blaring music.

  “What?” He looked at me, confused.

  “You and your friend bought me and my friends a round of margaritas,” I said.

  Once I got up closer, I realized just how handsome he was. He looked as if he were in his late twenties or early thirties. He had blue eyes and light brown wavy hair. His nose looked like it may have been broken at one time, but that only added to his character. He towered over me; I guessed him to be somewhere around six-foot two.

  His smile made my stomach flip. “Oh, that was my mate there, trying to pick up your friend,” he said in a very Irish accent, making my stomach now do a double flip. “But if I was half paying attention and had seen how cute you were, I would have bought you a drink myself.”

  I smiled at his compliment. “Well, aren’t you sweet?”

  He ordered himself a beer and another margarita for me. “Oh no, I can’t have any—”

  “I’ll be insulted if you drank the margarita that Tommy bought you and not mine,” he said, flashing that sexy smile again.

  “Okay, if you insist,” I said as I looked over at Donna and Michael sitting at the table. Donna smiled and gave me the thumbs-up.

  I sipped my margarita, totally forgetting about the club soda. “Do you want to dance?” he asked.

  “Sure,” I said, taking one last swig of my margarita, licking the salt from the rim off my lips. “He’s so hot!” I mouthed to Donna as he walked in front of me to the dance floor.

  He was just as good at dancing as he was handsome. I was having so much fun. I was usually never this forward or loosened up. I knew it was part alcohol, part hot Irish guy. The pace of the music changed into a slow dance. I was a little surprised when he pulled me closer and wrapped his arms around me. I didn’t resist. I rested my head against his rock-hard chest and accidently pushed my stomach into his arousal, which was leading me to believe that he was just as turned on by me as I was by him. I breathed in the delightful scent of his cologne, a blend of cedar and musk – deliciou
s. I wasn’t a one-night-stand type of girl but tonight, being here in the arms of this gorgeous guy, I was considering bending the rules.

  “Wow, this is a great ending to a horrible day,” I said as we swayed back and forth.

  “Why’s that?” he asked.

  “Just a horrible day at work.”

  “What do you do?” he asked.

  “I teach second grade and my day ended with an obnoxious e-mail from a pompous ass who’s the uncle of one of my students.”

  He stopped moving as he placed his hand on my shoulders and gazed down at me with a smile. Yes, I think I would definitely bend the rules tonight.

  I moved my head back to his chest and closed my eyes as we continued to dance. I was beginning to feel a little dizzy from the alcohol. “Do you have a name, hot Irish guy?”

  “Dailan – Dailan O’Maley. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Morgan.”

  Chapter 5

  I quickly removed my head from his chest. His arms were still wrapped around my waist as I looked up at him. He had a wry smile on his face. I felt my insides trembling. I wanted to run but my legs felt frozen.

  “Oh my God, I’m sor-” My legs finally thawed as I pulled away from his embrace, running past Donna and Michael and out the door, trying to escape my humiliation. I made it out into the parking lot just in time as all the alcohol and what little food I had in my stomach came rushing to the surface.

  Donna and Michael came running out behind me. Donna held my hair back until there was nothing left to come out. I turned to both of them, rubbing my temples.

  “Are you okay--what happened in there?” Donna asked with concern.

  “Did that guy try something with you?” Michael asked as he went into police officer mode.

  “No, not at all!” I wanted to make that clear to Michael before he went back in and made a scene. I looked at Donna. “He’s the uncle of the student that I had told you about earlier.”

  Donna’s grin was a mile wide. “Oh my God! Well, he may be obnoxious, but he’s certainly easy on the eyes.”

  “I’m standing right here, you know,” Michael joked.

  “I’m sorry, sweetie; you know I only have eyes for you,” Donna said playfully as she batted her eyelashes at him.

  “I was rambling on in a drunken stupor and told him about my horrible day. When he asked me what I did for a living, I told him, and then stupid me continued by telling him about the e-mail I received from the pompous ass uncle of one of my students.”

  “Yikes!” Donna exclaimed. “Well, relax; maybe he didn’t put the pieces together and realize you were talking about him,” she said with fading optimism.

  “Oh no, he knew. Right before I ran out, he made a point of saying, ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Morgan.’ What am I going to do?” I sat on the curb, running my hand through my hair.

  “Well, there’s not much you can do; what’s done is done.”

  I looked up at Donna. She clearly knew that wasn’t the answer I wanted to hear.

  “What if this gets out to the other parents? I mean, really, I wasn’t exactly model teacher material tonight. I swear if I hadn’t just realized who he was, he probably would have been in my bed tonight.”

  Donna looked at me as if she were a little shocked by my out-of-character statement. “How’s it going to get out to the other parents? Somehow, I don’t think he’s the PTA type and besides, he looked to be just as into you as you were into him. Just let it blow over; I’m sure in a couple of weeks, he’ll have forgotten all about it.”

  “Donna, I’m supposed to meet with him Thursday after school,” I said painfully.

  “Oh,” Donna said through clenched teeth. “Well, just try not to think about it. Go home and go to bed; you’ll be able to think more clearly in the morning. Michael will give you a ride. I’ve gotta go find Kara before she does something foolish too. I’ll call ya in the morning and help you think of what to say.” She headed back into the bar to find Kara.

  Michael grabbed my arm as I stood up from the curb.

  “How do I get myself into these messes, Michael?”

  “I don’t know, Nic, but you sure do keep us all amused,” he joked.

  “Oh gee, thanks,” I said sarcastically as I got into the car.

  * * *

  Much to my dismay, the week was flying by at a rapid pace. I didn’t receive any more e-mails from Dailan O’Maley. I tried my best to deal with Ryan’s constant disruptions in class on my own, not wanting to draw any further attention from his uncle. I had spent every single planning period with him, going over the math unit with which he was struggling. I didn’t care if it meant spending extra time after school or at home preparing lesson plans. It was all worth it when I actually saw Ryan solve a math problem at the blackboard with complete ease one afternoon.

  The day I had been dreading all week long was finally here – Thursday. I still hadn’t thought of what to say to redeem myself with Ryan’s uncle. I was hoping that he was really that nice guy that I met in the bar and not the obnoxious jerk in the e-mails.

  All the kids were gone for the day and I was savoring the golden sound of silence. I glanced up at the clock on my desk as I was grading papers. It was 4:30 - Looks like Mr. O'Maley is a no-show – thank God! My head was pounding from stressing out all day over this meeting. I just wanted to get home and park myself in front of the TV for the rest of the night. I was hoping that I wouldn’t have to deal with him for a while – as in never. Ryan had actually gotten a 75 on his math quiz, which was a big improvement from his usual 40s and 50s. I only had to talk to him twice today and the librarian told me he was excellent during library time. Maybe Ryan was finally starting to adjust to second grade.

  I got up from my desk and decided to call it a night. "Damn," I said as I wrestled with the stack of papers, trying to get them to fit in my bag.

  "Now that's not very nice language for a teacher to be using." I looked up quickly to find the handsome man whose arms I was in just the other night standing in my doorway. He was even more handsome than I had remembered as I got an even better look at him in the bright light. He looked as if he hadn’t shaved in a few days and the stubble on his face made him even sexier. I swallowed hard at his captivating smile and I could tell that underneath his perfectly tailored suit was a perfectly sculpted body.

  “I would introduce myself, but I believe we’ve already met,” he said.

  “Look, I’m really sorry about the other night. I had a little too much to drink. I don’t usually act that way.”

  “No need to apologize; don’t you know that being called a pompous ass when you’re a lawyer is a compliment?” he said and began to move closer.

  I backed up and leaned against my desk. I didn’t know if it was his good looks, his sexy smile, or his thick Irish accent that was making my heart feel like it was going to leap out of my chest.

  “Please, have a seat,” I said, directing him to the chair on the other side of my desk.

  I sat at my desk and fumbled through my papers, trying to locate Ryan’s progress report that I had made up specifically for this meeting. I looked up quickly from my pile and noticed him gazing at me. I realized that I had taken my cardigan off when the kids left and I was only wearing the camisole that I had on underneath. I quickly grabbed my cardigan off the back of my chair and buttoned up the middle button to cover what little cleavage I had.

  “I liked it better off,” he said with a crooked smile.

  I shifted my head up from the papers and shot him a look of disgust.

  “I’m sorry; just being honest,” he said playfully.

  I quickly put my head down and continued fumbling through the stack. I could feel my face starting to flush. I silently scolded myself for being so unorganized. Why was he making me so nervous? I finally located Ryan’s progress report and placed it in front of him.

  “Like I said in my e-mail, I don’t know how I’m going to be of any help in this situation,” he said, barely
looking at the paper that was just placed before him.

  “Mr. O’Maley, I have been working with Ryan and will continue to work with him at school. But it will do no good if these things are not followed up on at home as well.”

  “Okay, and what are these things that you’re referring to?”

  “Well, I had to talk to Ryan several times in the past few weeks about his behavior. In particular, lifting up the girls’ skirts during recess or when they are standing in line.”

  He began to laugh loudly. “There’s nothing wrong with that; I’d be more worried if you told me he was chasing after the boys.”

  “Mr. O’Maley, clearly it is a problem when I’m being inundated with e-mails from the parents of these little girls asking me what I plan to do about this.”

  “Tell them to fuck off,” he said nonchalantly.

  “That’s the other thing; the language that he’s using in school is totally inappropriate.”

  He looked at me smugly. “Oh, so now you’re worried about what’s appropriate. You sure weren’t the other night when you were pressing yourself up against me, were you, darlin’?”

  I felt my face begin to burn and I knew that I was turning red. I pushed my hair behind my ear and tried my best to compose myself and ignore his last statement.

  “Look, I’m willing to work with Ryan during school and I can even schedule some time after school to get him up to par with his academics. I’m just asking that you work with me a little?”

  “Oh, I’d like to work with you a lot.” His smile broadened.

  I stared at him blankly, trying to get him to take me seriously. It was as if I were talking to one of my students. “I could schedule Wednesdays after school for tutoring. There’s a late bus that Ryan can take home as well.”

  “Oh no, he doesn’t have to take the bus; I’ll come and pick him up.”