I glance over at the clock and realize I better leave if I want to get Harper’s lunch and over to the school in time. I change into a long-sleeve shirt because this morning at breakfast Harper said something about playing at recess if Ms. Hanson lets me stay, put my vest back on, and head out the door.
After I get our lunch from Subway, I go back over to the school, park in the visitor parking, and go into the front door to sign in and get a tag. The moment I step out of the office, I see Carly leading her class toward the lunchroom. The smile that takes over my face just at the sight of her is probably bordering a little on the creepy side, but I can’t help it. I’ve never had this type of reaction before.
Carly Hanson is beautiful. She could be mistaken for Carrie Underwood’s slightly older sister. With her straight bright blond hair that sits just at her shoulders and bright brown eyes, I feel like she has me under a spell.
She stumbles a bit when she sees me, making me smile wider at her cute klutziness, but then turns a smile my way and keeps walking the kids toward the lunchroom with a nod of her head, silently telling me to follow her.
“Harper’s so excited to have you eat lunch with her today. I’ve never heard her ask when lunchtime is so many times,” she tells me after I make my way to her, glancing behind us at the line of kids following, reminding me of ducks trailing after their mama.
“Well, we cut a deal at the beginning of the week.”
“Ah, yes, the sleeping-in-her-own-room thing?”
I give her an odd look, probably showing my surprise that Harper would share the terms of our agreement.
She giggles at my expression, “Oh you’d be shocked to know the details I know of everyone’s families. Of course, I assume only a fraction of what I hear is truth — or a version of the truth, anyway. But the kids can’t wait to share what happened in their homes the night before.”
“Oh boy. I can only imagine. It makes me glad that I made it through without knowing what my daughter shared of our lives at home.”
“How old is your daughter?” she asks as we get closer to the lunchroom.
“Lily? She’s twenty-two. Finishing up her last year in college. I’m really proud of her.”
“I bet. What’s she studying?” She turns in the line and faces the kids when their chatter gets a little louder and does the same clap sequence that she did earlier to get their attention, and they return the pattern without as much as a blink of an eye. Clearly, it’s something they’re more than accustomed to. It’s amazing how quickly it works.
“Children,” she says in a voice that is stern yet gentle. “I know you’re excited to have a lunch visitor with us today, but this isn’t the first time.”
“It’s the first time for Uncle James, though!” a little boy, not my nephew, pipes up.
“That is true, and we’re all excited to have him join us today, but we still need to be respectful of the other classrooms who are still working.”
My eyes immediately went back to her when I heard her say, “We’re all excited,” hoping that she was including herself in that.
“Now, remember, we drew names out of the bucket for who would be able to sit at Harper’s table with James today, and for those of you who didn’t get their name drawn, we have your names in the hat for our next special guest, okay?”
I smile knowing Harper has been bragging me up. I always knew I was her favorite.
“Yes, Ms. Hanson,” they all say in unison.
She turns sparkling eyes toward me. “Harper seems to be very fond of you. She hasn’t stopped talking about Uncle James all week long. You’re pretty much a celebrity here.”
“I hope I can live up to the hype.”
“I’m pretty sure you can,” she says then blushes like I saw her do in her classroom. “So, your daughter’s major?” She asks her original question again, even after being distracted.
I’m impressed. I had already forgotten what we were talking about.
“Social work. She wants to work with foster kids.” I can’t help the smile taking over my face or the way my chest expands. I said I was proud of her, but that doesn’t even come close.
“Really? Wow. That’s pretty amazing.”
“Yeah, well, she’s amazing. She didn’t…” I start to tell her our life story but think twice. This isn’t a date. This is lunch with Harper, my six-year-old niece. I need to get my head on straight. “Let’s just say that she has a big heart for kids who don’t have the traditional home life.”
Something in her eyes shifts, and she gives me a sad smile. “That makes my heart happy to hear. We need more kids like that in our world.”
I nod my head but can’t look away from her. It’s not until I feel a tug on my sleeve and notice that we’re standing outside of the lunchroom do I snap out of the Carly-haze. I look down into Harper’s bright blue eyes, much like my own.
“Ms. Hanson? Can Uncle James stay for recess after we finish our lunch?”
“Of course! I mean, if he wants to,” Carly tells her, not looking at me but focusing her attention on Harper.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I try to keep my eyes on my niece when I really want to watch Carly.
“You got the new bag!” she exclaims in response as she takes her lunch from my hand.
“Of course!” I have no idea what that really means, but I just go with it.
“Thanks, Uncle James. You’re the best.”
“Don’t forget to say that again next time Uncle Dean’s around.”
She giggles at me then takes my hand and tugs me in the direction of the table where we’re apparently supposed to sit. I push up my sleeves because, damn if I’m not already sweating around all these little bodies.
The second I’m seated on the tiny seat, I’m bombarded with questions.
“What’s that?” a boy asks, pointing to my forearm covered tattoos.
“Why do you have tattooooos?” A girl asks, stretching out the word tattoos.
“You have a lot of tattoos!”
“Are you going to play soccer with us at recess?” another girl asks, thankfully stopping the barrage of questions about my ink.
“Why are you wearing a hat?”
“Do you always wear hats?”
“Do you like making restaurants better?”
This question makes me smile because it tells me that Harper’s been telling the class what I do for a living, which is rescuing at-risk restaurants.
“What’s your favorite sport?”
“Why aren’t you married? Harper says you don’t have a wife, but you have a daughter, so why don’t you have a wife?”
“What’s your favorite sandwich at Subway? Mine is the turkey, but my daddy likes the steak and cheese.”
“Are you going to the football game tonight?”
“My daddy told me Harper’s brother can’t play tonight. Why not? Is he hurt? Did he do something naughty?”
Oh boy. No way am I going to tell these little ones that Grady, my nephew who so many kids look up to because of his standing on the football team, got into a fight defending his sort of girlfriend, Bri, who was being assaulted, and ended up getting suspended from two football games.
“Grady can’t play because he had to help his best friend. She needed him more than he needed to play football,” Harper says matter-of-factly.
Well, that covers that. It’s a very true statement and one that I can just hear Tess and Barrett telling her.
“That’s right, squirt.” I reach over and ruffle her hair, and she grins up at me, one tooth missing from the front of her mouth.
“But… he can’t have a best friend who’s a girl! He’s a boy!” one of the boys at the table informs us.
“Nuh-uh! He can too!” Harper points at him.
And thus begins an argument about whether a boy and girl can be best friends. It’s comical to listen to. Parents really don’t have a clue what their kids all absorb.
“My mommy said that Mrs. Anderson should
n’t be friends with Mr. Miller because boys and girls can’t be friends without it causing problems,” a little girl tells me.
“Oh, she did? Well, I suppose in some cases…” I start to explain but think better of it. “You know what?”
“What?” Every head is turned toward me, eyes wide.
“I think a friend can be a boy or a girl. As long as they make your days full of sunshine and rainbows rather than gray skies.”
Blank eyes stare back at me.
“Or as long as they don’t make you sad.”
That makes them all smile.
The next thing I know, I’m being dragged outside by the hand by several little six- and seven-year-olds.
“You’re on my team, Uncle James,” Harper says.
“What are we playing?”
She rolls her eyes like I’m not paying attention, which I really wasn’t. I was trying to see where Carly went, but she disappeared shortly after the kids were all settled at their tables for lunch.
“Soccer, duh!”
“Oh right. Duh. How could I not have known?”
She giggles then gets in her stance, ready to take on the defenders. I run around, kick and dribble the ball between my legs, and pass it to whoever seems to be open.
Playground soccer seems to be pretty serious business, and soon I’m even working up a bit of a sweat but can’t stop the smile covering my face. Just like good friends, kids can fill your day with sunshine and rainbows, just by being them. Their energy, infectious laughs and happy can-do attitudes are something we adults forgot about long ago. We could learn a lot by having recess a few times a day.
The whistle blows, letting the kids know that recess is over. I make my way inside with the rest of the kids, walking Harper back to her room. Is it necessary? Nope. Do I care? Not a bit. I want one more chance to talk to Carly, even if it is just to tell her goodbye. Or rather, “See you later.” Because I have no intention of this being goodbye.
Harper puts her coat in her locker and then walks back into her classroom.
“Thank you for having lunch with me, Uncle James. And for playing with us at recess! That was so much fun!”
The classroom full of kids is standing around me now, all wanting to tell me goodbye and thanking me for playing soccer with them.
“Ms. Hanson! You should have seen Uncle James! I bet he helped us score a hundred points!”
“Oh yeah? That’s great! Everyone tell Mr. Cole thank you for coming for lunch today and please take a seat for story time,” Carly tells the class in full teacher-mode. Which is no good because it’s kind of hot. She’s my niece’s teacher. There’s probably some rule against that.
She turns and looks at me, rubs her lips together back and forth a couple times, causing my eyes to drift to her lips. I’ve noticed her doing this a few times and wonder if it’s a nervous habit.
“Thank you for coming today. It seems the kids had a wonderful time with you.”
“I had fun, too.”
She nods her head and looks away. An uneasiness settles in my gut. Before lunch, I felt like the attraction I was feeling toward her was returned, but something has shifted in her demeanor. She seems closed off, nervous.
“Maybe I’ll see you at the game tonight,” I tell her, hoping to ease the awkwardness.
She tilts her head to the side in confusion.
“Jack plays, right? You said your son was Jack?”
“Oh! Right. Yeah. He plays. I’ll be there.”
“Great! Have a great afternoon, Ms. Hanson.”
“You too, James,” she says, her eyes softening a bit, some of the discomfort falling away.
I walk out of the classroom, confused at so many things.
Why has this woman been able to capture my attention in such a short amount of time?
Why is she so distant?
The most confusing question, why I care so much that she was distant.
I hear a car pull into the garage and know it’s Barrett and Tess. I got a few funny texts from Tess telling me they were on their way home from their week away at the cabin hideaway, something they desperately needed, and I don’t want to hear about, knowing that part of the reason they got away was for some long overdue marital time. At least that’s what I deciphered from the texts, anyway, which are the best thing ever.
Before I even get the words out to tell the kids their parents are home, Grady, Maggie and Harper, three of their four children, are making a b-line toward the garage door, shoving me out of the way. Grady pulls the door open, and all three of them stand in the doorway, impatiently waiting to greet their parents.
Grady is a senior at Liberty High and star of their football team. He works his ass off every single day and won’t let himself become distracted from his end goal, playing college ball and getting a scholarship. His older brother, Cole, who is a sophomore in college and plans to go to medical school after graduation, played football too, but never wanted what Grady does.
A few weeks ago, Grady was at a party and his best friend Bri was being harassed by some punk. Grady didn’t like it too much, so he stepped in, which resulted in Tess and Barrett getting the chance to pick him up at the Liberty Police Department. No charges were filed against him, thankfully, but he did end up having to miss a couple of games. This night was just one of the many reasons Tess and Barrett needed time away.
Maggie is a sophomore at Liberty High and keeps Tess, Barrett and Grady on their toes. Grady doesn’t have a lick of patience for her growing up and makes sure everyone knows not to touch her. Or date her.
“Mommy! You’re home! It’s been nearly years!” Harper shouts in what Tess calls her dramatic flair.
Tess carefully picks her up and holds her close. “Hi, baby girl. How ya doing?”
“I’m so great! Uncle James had lunch with us at school today! And guess what?”
“What?!” Tess asks her mimicking Harper’s dramatic expression.
“He. Brought. Subway!”
“No. Way!” Tess is such a goof. Her kids tend to bring it out in her, but she’s really just that way.
“Uh-huh! A ham sandwich, some apples, and a cookie, and it was in one of those awesome bags!”
“Well, sounds like Uncle James scored some major points!”
“How’d you know that? He scored like a hundred points playing soccer at recess after lunch!”
“He did, huh?” Tess laughs. I doubt that this surprises her. I admit that I’m still very much like a big kid.
“Yeah huh! I asked Ms. Hanson if he could stay, and she said he could if he wanted to, and he said he wouldn’t miss it for the world!” She’s shouting everything she’s saying, her voice full of excitement.
“I just bet he didn’t say no to Ms. Hanson,” I hear Barrett mutter.
Uh-oh.
I know exactly where this is headed, and by the gleam in Tess’s eyes, I’m going to be grilled the second the kids are out of earshot.
I stand back and watch as the kids continue to talk to their parents, everyone happy to see each other and to be able to briefly catch up in person again. Grady tells his parents he has exciting news and as much as I feel bad for spilling his secret, I stand by it.
After Barrett and Tess have signed Harper’s cast, having a hard time finding an open space to do so, the girls head to their bedrooms to get ready for the game tonight. As soon as they’re out of sight, Barrett turns toward me, his smile beaming. “So-o-o, Ms. Hanson, huh?”
I punch him lightly in the shoulder and guffaw. “Shut up, man. She’s your daughter’s teacher,” I tell them, hoping they don’t notice the effect that Carly Hanson already has on me.
“True. But you can’t deny that she’s beautiful. Even I’d hit that,” comes out of my sister’s mouth.
Gross.
“Tess!” I guffaw and suppress a shudder.
Barrett raises his hand and says, “I’d watch,” then laughs like he’s hysterical.
I could throw up.
Tess just rolls her eyes then reaches over to me and gives me a tight hug. “Thank you, James — for staying with them, for helping everything here to stay rolling along, for keeping the kids happy, for taking care of my baby.”
“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” I tell her honestly.
“I know. And I love you for it. Stay through the weekend?”
“Yeah. I was planning on it, anyway, and I really wanna see Grady’s panic attack tomorrow night. He’s so sure of himself now, but I can’t wait to see the nerves settle in.”
“It’s killing me that he hasn’t told us yet!”
“I honestly can’t believe that you didn’t slip up and say something.”
“Barrett coached me on the way home,” she admits.
Barrett smirks in her direction.
“Mom! Dad! Why aren’t you ready?!” Maggie’s voice breaks in. She’s standing in front of us with her hands on her hips and a stern expression on her face. She seems excited to get to the game, and if I’m honest, so am I. I’ve only made it to two other games of Grady’s this season, and there’s only one more game before playoffs begin. Even though he’s not playing tonight, I still want to be there to support him. I have no doubt that Grady is feeling even more anxious for missing these last two weeks knowing that the playoffs are around the corner.
“You just want to get there in time to watch Jack warm up,” Harper says in a bored tone.
Well, this is an interesting twist.
“Quiet, Harps!” Maggie shrieks, her face flaming bright.
“Alright, let’s go change and head over to the game,” Barrett says, apparently not wanting to hear about his daughter’s sudden crush. Seems as though the Hanson’s have a magic spell on our family.
CHAPTER THREE
Carly
I didn’t take extra time getting ready for the game tonight. I didn’t. I may have checked things over a couple more times, worn my favorite pair of jeans and looked over my make-up more than once. But that doesn’t mean a thing. It doesn’t mean that I am hoping to see James or that I want him to see me at my best. Because today in my classroom? Wasn’t my best. At all.
A Better Place Page 3
