Page 5 of The Summer House

“I’ll be on my best behavior.”

The waitress returned with their drinks. She still seemed to notice only Rick.

“Are you ready to order?” she asked him. “We have several specials.”

Rick shook his head. “Why don’t you give us a little time? We have a lot of…catching up to do.”

The waitress finally glanced at Mandy. Her mouth twisted. “Lucky you,” she muttered as she left.

Mandy laughed. “That James Bond course really paid off. She’s smitten.”

Rick dismissed the comment with a wave. “Okay, I didn’t take a course, but I have changed. I guess I grew up. After MIT, I got a job that put me out in the real world for the first time. I traveled a lot, met different people, experienced things. It all had an impact. I like to think it was an improvement.”

She couldn’t help wondering how many women had been involved with his “experiences.” Probably a lot. Not that it was her business. Although she did wonder where he’d learned to send out such sexual vibrations. Even sitting down she could feel her knees knocking slightly.

“You were terrific before,” she said easily. “Although I’ll admit the package is a little more polished now.”

He nodded his thanks. “And you?”

“I like to think I’ve matured. I managed to turn thirty this year without sobbing myself to sleep.”

“Thirty looks amazing on you,” he said. Then before she could respond, he raised his iced tea. “To growing up, and to old friends.”

She touched her glass to his, even as she wondered if they could be considered old friends. They had been married for nearly eight months, then they’d parted under unfortunate circumstances. There had been a lot of pain, but time had healed, as it was supposed to.

“Tell me about your life,” he said. “I hear a few things from my mom, but not the details. How long have you been teaching?”

“For six years now.” She thought of her kids and smiled. “It’s the best.”

“Why?”

“The students keep me honest. Every day I have to give a hundred percent. If I don’t, they notice. I like the challenge. When there’s a change—some kind of progress—it’s the greatest feeling in the world. I know I’ve made an impact and it can last for a lifetime. I don’t know of anything more rewarding than that.”

His steady blue gaze never left her face. “Why special education?”

“Actually, that was an accident. When I was getting my master’s I did some student teaching. My paperwork got mixed up with someone else’s and I ended up in a special ed class. Within two days, I was hooked. I changed my emphasis, took a few more classes and here I am. I started out working with kids who were deaf, then a couple of years ago I was switched to kids who have learning disabilities. Last year most had minor disabilities. Some had Down syndrome.”

“How do you find the patience?”

She shrugged. “I just do. I adore them. Don’t get me wrong, some of the kids can be really difficult, but most of them are determined to make it in the world. They want to be like everyone else, and if that means working ten times as hard, they’ll do it.”

She leaned toward him. “One of my students, Bryce, really wanted to learn to play the piano. It was going to be his grandmother’s seventieth birthday and he wanted to surprise her by playing her favorite song. He practiced every day for two hours. While the other kids were out playing games, he was at the piano. It took him nearly three months, but he mastered it. I was lucky enough to be there for the birthday celebration. He was so proud of himself. His grandmother was stunned and we were all pretty much in tears.”

“Your eyes light up when you talk about the kids,” he said. “They’re lucky to have you.”

She chuckled. “I know this is going to sound like a cliché, but I’m lucky to have them.” Her humor faded. “I won’t pretend it’s easy. There are tough times. Kids don’t always make the progress I’d hope they would. Parents can be difficult—either expecting too much or not enough. Some parents can’t see their children as anything but flawed and broken. Then there’s the school system itself. We’re constantly fighting for money and resources.”

“Any favorite students?”

The question caught her off guard and made her think of Eva. Not today, she told herself. Not right now.

“Teachers aren’t supposed to have favorites.”

“But you do.”

“Sometimes,” she admitted.

“Do you ever need a break?”

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