Page 45 of Love Lessons

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Back at school, Finley was having a hard time letting go.

Literally.

She clung to my legs at the classroom door, tears streaming down her red cheeks, begging me to stay. I looked up at Kendall in desperation as the rest of the kids lined up for lunch. “I don’t know why she’s doing this. I’m so sorry.”

The more I tried to pull her hands off my calves, the tighter she held on.

“Finley, come on. I got to be with you longer today than most other days.” I grunted as I pried one of her hands off of me, only for her to immediately clutch onto my leg in a different spot.

“That might be the problem,” Kendall said as she crouched beside Finley, her skirt pooling on the floor around her. She rubbed Finley’s back. “It’s hard to come back to school after a really exciting morning, isn’t it?”

Finley sniffled. Listening, but not responding.

“The day’s already halfway over, Finley. And you know what else? We could get out the apple playdough again this afternoon. Won’t that be fun?”

Finley nodded, and much to my relief, she let go of my legs and fell against her teacher’s chest instead, almost knocking her off balance. “There you go,” Kendall said with a laugh, returning the hug. She stood up with Finley in her arms and looked at me. “She’s going to be just fine, Daddy.”

Don’t react to her calling you daddy don’t react to her calling you daddy don’t react to her—

I avoided Kendall’s stare as I leaned in to kiss Finley on the temple, a mere four inches from her teacher’s face. “Be a good girl for Ms. Devin, okay?” And then, after a quick glance at Kendall’s tight-lipped smile, I added, “And tell Ms. Devin she needs to be a good girl, too.”

This elicited some giggles from them both.

I pulled away, pausing for a moment to savor the sight of my daughter’s arms around Kendall’s neck. And, after a wink that carried different meanings for each of them, I turned and left.

The second I stepped out of the main door into the cool, misty air, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and started making calls. Bakeries, candy stores, local farmer's markets. One by one, I called every business I could think of that might make caramel apples, my hopes sinking with each refusal. They all pointed me in the same direction—the apple orchard. None of these people had the capacity to make and sell as many caramel apples as we’d need.

I was feeling discouraged about this, still trying to come up with a solution for Kendall in the back of my mind as I worked on some graphics for a client back home. Not even a request for an interview from one of the companies I’d applied to could get Kendall’s caramel apples off my mind. I saved the email—I’d come back to it later when I had better focus.

After being rejected by the apple orchard in the next county over, I was starting to accept I’d run out of options. This idea, this grand gesture I wanted to perform just to make Kendall smile, wasn’t within the realm of possibility.

But as I helped my mom unpack her grocery delivery later that afternoon, I noticed a bag of apples nestled in one of the sacks, and another idea sprang to mind.

“How much do you love me, Mom?” I asked, taking one of the apples out and rinsing it in the sink. She peered over her glasses at me as I pulled myself up onto the kitchen counter and took a bite.

“Oh boy. What do you want, Masey?”

I grinned, deciding to let that “Masey” comment slide right now. “Wouldn’t you love to make a few dozen caramel apples for Finley’s school?”

She tilted her chin down and glared at me as she dropped one of the grocery sacks into the recycling. “Um, no. I would not love to do that. I have about a billion other things on my plate right now.”

No she didn’t. “Ask your church lady friends to help. Oh, you know what?” I snapped my fingers and pointed at her. “You guys could set up a booth at the fall festival to sell them and hand out flyers for your church’s trunk-or-treat thing. Every kid in Woodvale will be at this event.”

She leaned on the counter without saying a word. But the wheels were turning.

“It’s for a good cause?” I offered. “I’ll get the apples and everything you need. Just make the things and show up and sell them.” And make sure Finley’s teacher gets one.

She crossed her arms and shook her head, but I knew it wasn’t really a “no.” I was still going to have to pull the grandparent card. “It would make Finley so happy.”

“Good Lord,” she said, rolling her eyes. “These caramel apples must be really important to you. And I’ll tell you what—I’ll talk to the fellowship committee about it. They’ll all need to agree.”

With my mouth full of apple, I mumbled, “Thanks. I knew you’d make the right decision.” I narrowly avoided the empty grocery sack she hurled at my head.

I shook my head at myself, taking one last bite of the apple in my hands. Hopping down from the counter to help my mom put her groceries away, I smiled as I imagined how Kendall would react to the news she’d be getting her caramel apple stand after all.

chapter nineteen

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