Page 6 of Teacher of the Year

“I’ll do whatever I can to make that happen.”

We share a small glance. The lines of concentration along his brows soften. Perhaps Olan Stone might warm up to me in time.

“I’m going to bring her down to class and get ready for the other kids to arrive,” I say, glancing at my watch, hoping we can conclude this meeting of the minds.

“May I walk her down with you?”

Um, is he asking for permission? I can’t imagine anyone saying no to that punim.

“Sure thing.” I mean, a few more moments next to him won’t kill me.

I stand to leave and, with all the grace of a giraffe on roller skates, trip over my chair and stumble. Thrown off balance, my arms flail for a moment, and I’m fairly certain I resemble one of those asinine inflatable tube men outside of car dealerships. As I catch myself on the table before faceplanting into his lap, my head lands inches from Olan Stone. I’m a complete klutz.

“Whoa, you all right?” He reaches for my arm, and Lord, why couldn’t I have fallen a little further?

“Yup, good, totally fine, all set. Let’s go!” Oy.

I scramble to my feet and lead us into the central area of the office. Illona spots her father, and her face lights up like a menorah on the eighth night. She leaps up and rushes over to him, slamming her forehead into his thigh and wrapping her arms around his waist.

“Daddy!”

“Mr. Block and I are going to escort you to class.”

Almost arrival time, folks scramble to complete any last-minute tasks before being trapped in their rooms. Jill impatiently taps her foot at the copy machine, waiting for the out-of-date machine to finish its job. As it chugs along, making copies, Jill glances up at me and smiles. Her familiar smirk melts like a burning candle, at the sight of Olan. He’s so clearly out of place in our drab school office, where everything is some awful mashup of blue and gray.

“Holy fuck,” she mouths without sound.

I raise my eyebrows so high they hide behind the spirals on my forehead. I’m attempting to act natural and not like I’m less than a foot away from the most perfect specimen of a man. Not one to miss an opportunity to gawk, as the copier shakes to a stop, Jill snatches the disheveled papers, shoves them under her arm, and swiftly follows us out of the office.

As we arrive at the classroom door, I kneel down next to Illona. With her dad observing and Jill perched in her doorway staring, it feels like I’m auditioning for a role I’ve already been cast in.

“The other kids will be here in just a few minutes. Let’s put your stuff away, and you can help me greet them. I’ll introduce you to a few friends to help you settle. Sound good?”

Illona nods gently. She takes my hand and begins pulling me into the classroom.

“Well, that’ll be my cue… I’ll pick her up at… wait, what time?”

Oh, he’s picking her up. I get to see him again. Today. My heart trips.

“Nervous dad,” Olan says with a few fast blinks. “Depending on my schedule, some days it could be Cindy, our nanny. She actually lives with us. I’ve left her information with the office as an emergency contact.”

Let’s be clear, having a nanny requires a certain income level most families in our community don’t have. He has a live-in nanny, and I’m having a cup of soup for lunch. And not even the top-shelf stuff, but the store-brand cup with ingredients I can’t pronounce. I’m glad he can afford it. As he’s a single parent, I guess Olan needs some help. Poor guy.

I turn my head to reply and get one last look at him. “Sounds good. Two forty-five is pickup. Have a wonderful day, and we’ll see you later.”

“Thank you,” he says, extending his hand.

I put mine in his, my intent to shake, remove, and return to his child and the swarm of sprouts about to populate the classroom. Olan wraps his fingers around mine, squeezes and shakes, and my hand doesn’t retract. Our eyes lock, and he finally releases my hand, a fraction longer than expected, and my face flushes, hot and airy.

Illona investigates her new classroom, grabbing a puzzle of a bumblebee riding a pony. I stand for a moment, trying to shake off the buzz from being around her father for the last twenty minutes. I’ll likely be interacting with him, at least some, in the very near future. At least at pickup today. He waves and smiles at his daughter and turns to go, and my knees wobble slightly at the sight of him from behind. His dress pants grip his body as he walks, thighs and muscles flexing under the stretched fabric. That ass, so plump and perfect. Grabbable. I lick my lips and follow him closely, shaking my head. Such thoughts should not be entering my mind at this time of day. The bell rings, interrupting my daydream, and the first drips of the flood of children begin flowing down the hallways. In an attempt to escape, Olan swims upstream. Unlike the adults, none of the children are fazed by his appearance. Ah, to be five again.

Slipping over to the doorway, I plant myself, knowing I need to move, become unstuck, but also not exactly sure how to make that happen. As I glance up from my stupor, Jill still stands in her doorway, waiting to greet her minnows and staring right at me. She feverishly fans herself with both hands as if surrounded by molten lava, looks up at me, and we both cackle.

Chapter4

Jill: Lord, that is one fine man.

Kristi: That meeting was interesting, huh?

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