Page 25 of The Love Syllabus

I smile, amused by her forwardness. “Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. This is still just an interview, remember?” I gently remind them.

The girls sigh in unison, their voices tinged with disappointment. “Yeah, we know.”

Then, Vic breaks their lull, offering his daughters a hint of reassurance, “The best interview ever, if you ask me.”

Their faces instantly brighten, and their smiles spread with infectious joy. My heart flutters slightly, warmed by his unexpected affirmation. Pretending not to notice, I focus on my plate, but I can’t ignore Ms. Tina’s soft ‘aww’ filling the room or Vic’s steady gaze that tenderly holds mine from across the table, wrapping the moment in an unspoken connection that feels both unexpected and just right.

But suddenly, Ms. Vicky interjects with a reminder, her tone shifting the conversation to more pressing matters. “Son, your schedule’s about to get hectic. Your PR team has gone all out for your re-introduction into society. You have public appearances, award shows, the business dinner with the City Manager, the showrunner party. And, oh yeah—”

Vic waves a hand dismissively, attempting to maintain the casual atmosphere. “Mom, no business talk at the table, please.”

Vicky isn’t deterred.

“Don’t you dare dismiss me. You willnotbail out on any of your commitments. You need the town’s support, especially with all the pushback on your new building design. I’ve been making friends with all the powers-to-be, but you gotta stop mistaking your sarcasm for humor. You’re gonna burn every bridge before we can even create one.” She then turns to me, her suggestion catching me off guard. “You know what? Kerry, you should accompany Vic to all of these engagements he keeps trying to avoid. I’m sure you know the City Manager, Jeffrey Jones, right?”

Stammering slightly, I reply, “Uh, yes, I do, actually. I taught both of his children, and his wife and I used to organize the town’s Fall Festival together every year.”

Vicky beams. “That’s perfect! Would you mind being my socially inappropriate son’s date to that dinner and a few other engagements over the next few months? This town’s been pushing back on the build, the T.V. show, everything! Vic’s attitude is the main reason why so your hometown connections might help sway things in our favor.”

Vic looks torn between frustration and resignation. “Mom, you can’t just volunteer Kerry to do that.” He protests, though his tone lacks conviction.

Shrugging off any hesitation, I assure him, “It’s no trouble at all. I’d be happy to help. Besides, the town already seems to think I’m your…” I pause, glancing at the girls and opting for discretion, “…special friend.”

Vic, caught off guard by my willingness, lets a genuine smile break through his usually reserved demeanor. “Well, then, it’s settled. If you really don’t mind the boring affairs of business dinners and fake smiles, I’d appreciate your company.”

“Not at all, Mr. Grimes. I’m all in,” I affirm, my voice steady yet revealing a hint of excitement. “Feel free to use me up.” The words slip out more flirtatiously than intended, and a low chuckle escapes his lips, sending a warm thrill through me. I catch the way his eyes linger on me, a spark of something unspoken but electric hanging between us.

But just as we seem to drift closer in our little bubble, Ari’s innocent question slices through the thickening air. “So, Ms. Kind, are you married?” She asks with a child’s straightforward curiosity.

The question jolts me, and I nearly choke on my salad, caught completely off guard. “Uh, I used to be,” I manage to say, my voice a little hoarse from the surprise.

“Did he die like our mom?” Syd blurts out.

The table falls deathly silent, and I catch Vic’s look, laden with pain and discomfort.

He drops his fork, the clatter stark against the silence, and his face tightens. “Syd,” he admonishes gently, his voice low and strained with barely held patience, “we’ve discussed keeping family matters private.”

“I’m sorry, Dad. I thought it was okay since Ms. Kind is gonna be a part of the family now. We’ll be complete again.” Syd replies, her voice small.

Silence befalls the room. I glance at Vic, whose eyes shift away, unable to meet mine. He abruptly stands, his chair scraping against the floor with a jarring sound that mirrors the sudden tightness in my chest.

“This was a bad idea. A very bad idea.” He groans, speaking more to himself than to the rest of us. Without another word, he swiftly retreats to his study, leaving a gaping void behind him.

“Mr. Grimes, wait!” I call after him, desperation edging my voice, but he’s already gone. I turn to the girls and the staff, my heart sinking into the pit of my stomach. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.” I apologize, feeling the weight of the moment crush down on me.

Vicky places a comforting hand on my shoulder, her touch light but filled with empathy. “It’s okay, Kerry. Victor may come off as hardened, but he has a huge heart. A hugebrokenheart. Just give him some time.” She advises with a knowing look that suggests she understands more than she says.

She and Ms. Tina excuse themselves to check on Vic, leaving me to finish the meal with the girls in thoughtful, heavy silence. My thoughts swirl with Vic’s sorrow and the Grimes family’s complex past.

After lunch, I shepherd the girls to the family library, a sanctuary of quiet and calm. We select books to read and write reports on. I choose one of my favorites,Their Eyes Were Watching God, while the girls opt for lighter YA fantasies.

The afternoon passes with us lost in the pages. Vic doesn’t return from his study. and his absence casts a long shadow over what was otherwise a beautifully unfolding day. When 3:30 approaches, I hug Syd and Ari then give them a list of fun learning activities to complete in their spare time. Then, I briefly pop into their classroom to add a touch of personality and improve its accessibility. I adjust the chair and desk heights to accommodate Ari’s needs comfortably and add grips to the science tools to help Syd handle them more easily. To brighten the space, I print posters of their favorite storybook characters and organize the bookshelves by themes they love.

I hope they like the changes, and I really hope this family hires me full-time. I need this job, but most importantly, I want it. I really want to be a part of their lives.

Afterward, with a mixture of hope and trepidation, I approach Vic’s study and knock firmly, waiting for his permission to enter. “It’s open.” He replies in a chilling tone.

I push the door open to find Vic absorbed in his paperwork. I observe him, looking handsomely studious and frighteningly serious. This isn’t the Vic I’ve come to know over the past few days, nor the one I’ve started to care for more deeply than I should.

---