“You, too.” She set off after the stinky substitute, pulling Dakota’s bully with her.
CHAPTER FIVE
“WE HAVE A no-tolerance policy for physical violence.” Ms. Emory’s disapproving stare nailed the child standing to Tyler’s right. “This isn’t the first time you’ve put your hands on another student, Dakota, and you’ve only been at Silent Springs for a week.”
“They were both fighting.” Tyler nudged Nathan closer to the AP’s desk from where the fourth-grader was sulking beside Lily.
Ms. Emory’s eyebrow’s flattened as her attention shifted Nathan’s way.
“Is that so?” she asked. “Who threw the first punch?”
“I saw the Miller boy shove Nathan first,” Mariah Caldwell answered. She’d hung back by the door. When both Tyler and Lily’s heads snapped around in surprise, she crossed her arms and swallowed. “But I…I was talking with Lily by the bleachers. I could have missed somethi—”
“Nathan was taunting Dakota,” Lily said. “And this was after I’d upset Dakota when he spoke with me. It looked as if Nathan knew Dakota was angry and decided to take advantage of the situation.”
Tyler nodded in agreement, when what he wanted was to drag his wife into the hallway and ask why she’d been there watching his class in the first place.
“Nathan’s made a habit of teasing Dakota this week,” he added.
“Has that been your observation, as well, Ms. Caldwell?” Ms. Emory asked.
“I…I’ve only had the class for the morning,” Mariah answered. “All I can say is that Dakota’s behavior has been very disruptive.”
“But you couldn’t say what’s been upsetting him to the point that he’s acting out?” Lily turned on the shy substitute, her accusation laser sharp, the gentleness she normally showered on everyone evaporating.
Tyler clasped her hand and squeezed, then made himself let her go.
Ms. Emory caught the gesture before shifting her attention to the boys. “You two wait outside for a few minutes.”
The kids shuffled away. But Tyler caught Dakota eyeing Lily as if he couldn’t believe a teacher had gone to bat for him. When the door closed behind them, Ms. Emory motioned to the guest chairs in her office.
“Let’s have a seat.” She took her own behind the desk. “Ms. Caldwell, why don’t you tell me what you’ve observed between these boys the few hours you’ve had them this morning, so you can return to your class. I believe the librarian’s now watching them along with Mrs. Brooks’s students?”
“Yes.” Tyler stretched his legs in front of his chair, crossing them at the ankles. Okay, so he’d moved them as close to Lily’s feet as he could manage. If that made him desperate, so be it. “I dropped them by on my way here.”
Lily shifted in her chair, sitting taller and drawing away from him.
“Mrs. Rushing left work to keep the kids busy.” Mariah, still standing, had her back braced against the door. “That’s taken most of my attention today. All I can tell you is that Dakota’s rarely in his seat, and he’s been incredibly distracting to the other children while they complete their assignments. Then he turned PE into a wrestling match.”
“Did he complete his work?” Lily’s voice was more confrontational than Tyler had ever heard it.
“What?” Mariah pushed her glasses up her nose.
“Before he began wandering around and bothering you and the other kids, did he complete his work?”
“I…I guess, but—”
“Then maybe half the problem, Nathan Grover’s bullying aside, is that Dakota’s bored.” Lily flinched when Tyler touched her arm, asking her to back off, no matter how badly he wanted to cheer her on. “With a little more direction, maybe he would—”
“He’s the bully.” Mariah kept her eyes trained on Gayle. “He’s an unhappy kid, and I doubt he’s interested in my or anyone else’s direction. But I’m just a substitute. If you’d like someone else to take Alma’s kids for the rest of the day…”
“Of course not,” Ms. Emory soothed. “Why don’t you go collect your class. Let the librarians know someone will be along for Ms. Brooks’s students as soon as possible.”
Mariah’s glance toward Lily and Tyler was an odd mixture of annoyance and sympathy. She left, shutting the door behind her and leaving the tension in the AP’s office behind.
“How are you feeling, Lily?” Ms. Emory’s attention dropped for a moment to where Tyler still held his wife’s arm. “After yesterday’s crisis, I half expected you to take the remainder of the week off to rest.”
“I FEEL FINE.” Lily assured her boss. She was getting tired of trying to convince people of that, herself most of all. “I’m perfectly okay being back today.”
“You just challenged another teacher in front of two students.” Ms. Emory picked up her pen, tapped it on her desk a few times, then set it back down. “A substitute teacher, Lily, whom you then accused of intentionally ignoring a disruptive student because she didn’t want to deal with him.”
“I only suggested that part of Dakota’s problems settling in here might be that he’s gifted and not being challenged in the classroom.” Lily swallowed the next rush of words pushing to get out. She looked to Tyler for support, then told herself to knock it off. “Even if that’s not the case, any child with the amount of disruption in his life Dakota’s had to deal with might reasonably be expected to behave the way he has!”
After several seconds of the AP’s skeptical silence, Lily realized she’d shouted the last sentence.
“What does your doctor say?” Ms. Emory waited. When Lily didn’t respond, the AP turned to Tyler for her answers.
And, damn it, if Lily didn’t, too.
She held her breath. If she’d ever needed her husband on her side it was now, no matter how worried he still was. She knew it didn’t make sense that helping Dakota had become so important to her so quickly, but he had.
“The doctor’s given Lily a clean bill of health.” Tyler’s gaze locked with Lily’s as he stretched the truth. “She’s cleared to work, as long as she feels up to it.”
“And I feel fine.” Lily didn’t remember Tyler taking her hand, but the feel of his fingers nestled between hers was heaven.
“Given yesterday morning’s episode—” Ms. Emory’s expression was as concerned as it was confused “—I wouldn’t say fine is exactly the right word. And you’ve had similar episodes over the last six months, Lily. You’ve missed quite a bit of work because of the side effects of your fertility treatments.”
“Personal time she’s accumulated over the last ten years,” Tyler pressed.
“Of course.” Ms. Emory folded her hands and nodded. “I’m happy for my teachers to take whatever medical leave they need.” Her focus shifted to Lily. “Your health is what’s most important. If you need more of a break, that’s not a problem. But when you’re here, I have to know that I can depend on you to continue doing the same fine work as always.”
“That’s exactly what she has done today,” Tyler insisted, backing Lily up even though he’d wanted her home himself. “I’ve seen Lily with Dakota, the way he responds to her. Mariah’s right. He’s an angry, confused little boy. But Lily’s created an instant rapport with him. And Nathan Grover does pick on the kid. What happened today is just as much Nathan’s fault as Dakota’s.”
“Except Dakota instigated the physical outcome,” Ms. Emory reminded them. “And it’s not the first time in a single week that he’s become overly aggressive with his peers.”
“A child displaced the way he was will naturally have more difficulty attaching to a new situation and making new friends.” Lily caught Tyler’s nod. Remembered all the reasons her husband was so careful to hide his emotions, even from her. “It takes a special person to be able to face the obstacles Dakota’s has, then to start over someplace new.”
“And it takes a special teacher to see the gifts buried beneath the grumpiness and misbehavior of a student who needs as much help as thi
s one.” The speculative glint in the AP’s eye was Lily’s only warning. “Since it’s my observation that you need some downtime, and we have quite a situation on our hands with young Mr. Miller, I’m wondering if you spending some one-on-one time with him might not be the best solution for all involved.”
“That’s a great idea,” Tyler blurted out.
“What!” Lily leaned forward. “I have my own class to teach. A Spring Fling to plan. And—”
“An assistant principal who at the moment isn’t convinced you need to be at school at all. You can’t seem to go five minutes without shrieking at me or one of my staff.”
“But my class…”
“I have a list of substitutes who can help out while you work with Dakota. In fact, I’m going to ask one to cover your class for the rest of the afternoon.”
“The carnival, I—”
“Lily,” Tyler reasoned, “I think you should—”
“I know exactly what you think!” And she’d actually believed he was back on her side.
“Let’s not worry about the carnival right now.” Ms. Emory pushed to her feet. “If need be, I’m sure Ashley Lawson wouldn’t mind taking over the final planning.”
“But, I…” Lily stood, too. The arguments kept tumbling out. The panic. “I’m close to having things—”
“Lily,” Tyler said beside her. “I think you should listen—”
“Like you always listen?” She turned to him and fought to breathe.
“I need to deal with Dakota and Nathan.” Ms. Emory headed for the door. “It sounds like they both would benefit from spending the rest of the day at home. A couple of weeks of afternoon detention beyond that. You two talk for as long as you need. Come back in the morning, Lily. You can let me know your answer then. If you think you’re up for it, we’ll arrange to have you start with Dakota tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Either that, or I’m afraid we’re going to have to find another solution for the young man. It sounds as if Nathan’s behavior has been questionable, but that doesn’t change the fact that a mainstream classroom clearly isn’t the best place for Dakota right now.”
“That’s not giving him much of a chance.” Tyler braced his hands on his hips. “He just arrived at Silent Springs. The Graysons are only starting to work with him.”
Ms. Emory grimaced. “From what his children’s-services caseworker said, that situation doesn’t seem to be working, either, regardless of Marsha and Joshua’s track record.”
“Dakota needs more time.” Lily felt Ms. Emory’s reasoning, the walls, closing around her. No matter how much she longed to sprint for the door—away from Tyler—she couldn’t run this time. She couldn’t let Dakota down. “He’s a bright, lonely child who’s spinning out of control due to circumstances that aren’t his fault.”
“Yes, and his experience in this school seems to be making matters worse, not to mention disrupting the learning environment for everyone else. I’m sorry.” Ms. Emory seemed genuinely regretful. “Everyone’s doing the best they can to help him, but sometimes there’s simply nothing to be done if the child’s not ready to take the help he’s given.”
“If he wasn’t ready,” Tyler argued, “why would he be reaching out to Lily the way he is?”
“A valid point.” The AP glanced between Lily and Tyler. “I’ll speak with the Graysons when they come to pick Dakota up. I’ll ask if they’d be open to Lily working one-on-one with the child until he’s ready to rejoin his class. If they aren’t, or if you’re not feeling up to that, Lily, I’ll have no choice but to give Mr. Kramer a call. It might be best to transition Dakota back to the group home he came from, and whatever learning environment he’d settled into there, sooner rather than later. I’ll have the school secretary schedule us an appointment first thing tomorrow. Please, think about it.”
The door closed behind the AP.
Lily rounded on her husband.
“WHAT WAS THAT!” Lily demanded as she backed away from Tyler.
“That was me supporting you.” Tyler edged around her, physically blocking her escape. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“You just agreed with Ms. Emory that I’m not capable of taking care of my own class!” accused the woman who’d looked at him just a few minutes ago as if he was her hero.
“Because you need some more time, Lily!” He inhaled to curb the urge to keep yelling. “It’s not a character flaw. We’re both hurting. Just because I can see possibilities for our marriage and our life beyond having kids doesn’t mean I don’t feel the disappointment as deeply as you do.”
School—work—wasn’t the place for this conversation. But she avoided him everywhere else, so school it was.
“You always could do that,” she said, surprisingly calm, almost sounding like the dreamy young woman he’d asked to share his life.
Tyler remembered holding his breath when he’d proposed. He hadn’t believed he deserved anyone as light and loving and perfect as Lily. He realized he was holding his breath now, terrified he was losing that light for good.
“I could always do what?” he asked.
“Adjust, to whatever you had to. Handle anything—disadvantages I can’t even imagine.”
“Not having to fight for everything you’ve had in life doesn’t make you any less a champion.”
She snorted. “Some champion. I…I feel as if I’m just standing by, watching everything slip away…”
Like she’d watched Carter slip away.
“Everyone’s weak sometimes, Lily. Sometimes we all lose big, no matter how hard we fight. I’m no exception.” Marsha was right. He’d pushed Lily to move on before she was ready, rather than letting her feel what she needed to. “I was just like Dakota when I lost my parents. A part of me still is.”
Her beautiful features clouded at the roughness in his voice.
“What do you mean?” She reached for him, instinctively offering the support he needed to keep talking.
“A part of me still doesn’t believe I can hold on to the things I want most.” What was it she’d said about feeling powerless? He took the hand of his best friend, the best part of himself, and dug deep for the truth that might help her understand. “That if I stop fighting, everything will disappear again, the way my family did. Almost as if they weren’t real. As if what you and I have isn’t real.”
“Of course we’re real.”
She was drowning in her own doubts, but that didn’t stop her from reassuring him. That was the amazing way Lily’s heart worked.
His perfect Lily.
“Every day you’re in my life, I believe that a little bit more,” he whispered. “But the fear still creeps back in, and I’ve let it come between us. I’ve been so worried about losing you, I haven’t been listening to what you need. I’ve been pushing you to accept my solution and not trying hard enough to accept what you’re dealing with. The same way Dakota keeps pushing when he’s scared. He’s not a bad kid. You can see that. You understand him, the way you’ve always understood me. That’s what I was trying to tell Ms. Emory. And so were you, before you panicked about being pulled away from your work for a while.”
“But…he has the Graysons.” Lily’s eyes shimmered with confusion.
“Dakota doesn’t trust them, honey. Not yet. But I think he’s starting to trust you. Yes, I was excited about Ms. Emory’s offer, partially because I want you taking things easier around here for a while. But I can see how much you could help Dakota, too.”
“I…” She looked so scared. “I don’t think I can.”
“I know,” he said, hating her self-doubt but accepting that he couldn’t fix it. All he could do was love her and support her and hope it was enough. “But you wouldn’t be doing it alone. I’d have your back. Whatever you need, I’ll be there if you’ll let me.”
“I…” She stepped around him to the door. “I’m sorry, I can’t…I…I’ll call Mom to take me home.”
Tyler watched her leave and f
ought the instinct to follow. To try and make her trust him and keep fighting for them. For Dakota.
She needed time. She needed him to believe she could handle this. If he didn’t stop trying to slay her dragons for her, she might never believe she was strong enough to face them herself.
I’m a big, fat failure, Tyler…
He’d been as honest as he knew how. All he could do now was hope the love he’d let himself believe in—Lily’s love—was strong enough to get them both through this.
CHAPTER SIX
LILY SAT in the passenger seat of her mother’s ancient Ford and stared at her house. Tyler was in there, wondering where she was. He hadn’t hounded her on her cell the way she’d expected. He’d called her parents’ at their home, according to her father, to be sure Rose was with her. But her father hadn’t divulged their trip to Dr. Gruber’s.
I’m sorry, she’d said to Tyler as she’d run out on him.
Both the fertility specialist and her mother had said the same thing. Rose, over and over again, on the drive home.
I’m sorry.
Thank you was all Lily could remember saying to the doctor. She’d actually thanked the man.
She’d asked him for the truth one last time, after refusing to hear it during all the appointments she and Tyler had made together. Then she’d proceeded to cry all over her mother when Gruber confirmed what she already knew. And she hadn’t stopped crying since.
Silent tears. Useless—just like all the years of trying and praying and believing she could make her and Tyler’s dreams happen. Just like all the expensive treatments and endless checkups that had resulted in one disappointment after another.
“You said Tyler’s already accepted the diagnosis.” Her mother’s touch was as gentle as her voice. “He loves you, Lily. The two of you will get through this.”
Lily wiped at the wet trails running from the corners of her eyes. “Yes, he’s accepted it.”
Tyler knew how to make a success out of what was possible, instead of mourning what couldn’t be changed. It was an amazing outlook, considering everything he’d survived. And he was trying so hard now, to really understand what she was going through. Which she’d blasted him for last night.
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