Page 40 of Single Teddy
Teddy opened his mouth to say something, but just then Mac returned with Bear, who was eating a slice of pizza. Or more accurately, a slice of pizza dough, as the toppings slid to the floor from the awkward attempt at putting the slice in his mouth.
I kneeled straight away to clean up, but Teddy had the same idea, so we ended up clanging our heads together. Something Mac and Bear found all too amusing.
Look at us, being all cute and clumsy, as if we were in a rom-com or something. Not that I needed such thoughts in my already Teddy-crowded mind.
“Sorry,” he said, and I chuckled too.
“It’s okay.”
His gaze lingered a moment. A moment that felt like a whole lot of forever. A forever trapped in the wonderful sea of his eyes. I couldn’t help smiling.
This man brought me so much joy—and swoon—without even meaning to. I didn’t even think he knew the effect he had on people. And by people I meant me.
Teddy cleared his throat and turned to Bear, snapping me back to reality.
Or as much reality as there could be in his company.
“Why don’t you take a seat, Bear?” he said, and since Mac was called away by her teacher, I sat down and watched the dance show with them.
They were all incredible, even Grace the bully, who, if her teacher was to be believed, had straightened out her act. But Mac was the star of the show. She danced with wild abandon and pulled off all the moves to perfection. And when it was time for us to applaud, her dads raised the roof, whistling and clapping and hooting to their hearts’ content. It was so beautiful to witness. So pure.
I wanted that. I wanted a family. Love. The whole nine yards. But I didn’t know if I’d ever get it.
“Anyway.” I sighed and got to my feet so I could herd the second graders to the crafts area.
A few of my students were absent, but the majority were here, and I high-fived all of them one by one. The more sociable ones walked alongside me, talking to me about their plans for the weekend and what they would make at the crafts station, and the quieter ones stalked behind us with their parents, like Bear and Teddy.
“Those are some cool shoes, Nancy. You’ll have to tell me where you got them so I can check if they have them in my size,” Isaid and the little girl giggled, taking a seat. I turned to address the whole class. “Right, kiddos, do you know what we’re making today?”
More than a few heads shook, and I chuckled. Little kids could be as forgetful as they were sponges of knowledge.
“That’s all perfectly normal. It’s only your second year, but this is an annual Mayberry tradition for the Harvest Moon Festival.” I picked up the candle holders and showed them to everyone. “These cups are made from rice paper. All you have to do is decorate them as you wish. We’ve got flowers—straight from my garden, by the way— biodegradable glitter, and crayons, so go wild. Put your wishes and dreams on them. Then, later on, after the sun goes down, your parents will bring you down to Cotton Beach, and we’ll put the wax candles in the cups and release them into the ocean for the harvest. How does that sound?” I looked at all my students and then their parents, who nodded in agreement.
The kids got busy right away. Nancy took over the fresh flower section and distributed them to other kids as if she were in charge, while Bear remained seated, kicking his feet back and forth and staring at everyone else.
“Don’t you want to participate?” I asked Bear, and he shrugged.
Teddy cast a glance my way and reached for a pencil. He attempted to draw on Bear’s cup, but as soon as he put his pencil down, Bear picked it up and threw it.
“No!” he shouted.
“Bear! We don’t throw things.” Teddy sighed and stood up to retrieve it, but I put my hand up and got it for them.
“You don’t want to draw on your cup, Bear? I would have thought you’d jump at the chance. You love drawing.”
“I don’t want to,” Bear replied with a huff, furrowing his brow.
“What about flowers? Do you want to stick some flowers on it?”
“No!” he shouted.
A couple of the parents looked our way, and I didn’t miss how Teddy bit his lip at the unwanted attention.
I sat on the floor opposite Bear and took a deep breath.
“Okay, Bear, tell me what’s wrong?”
“I don’t know.” The kid shrugged.
