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I feel tension from Diane, so I glance down and flip through Krew’s folder to the next paper, theAll About Mewriting assignment, and suddenly images of Tyler Dixon carrying yellow flowers to his wife’s grave and him smelling her pillow at night flood my mind.
I’m the worst.
Worsethan the worst.
I forced myself onto a grieving man.
I tried tokissa man that just lost his wife.
No wonder he pushed me away. I’m not proud of the fact that this knowledge helps my damaged ego feel a little better.
And now I’m going to see him all year long. I want to roll myself inside this manilla folder and squish it into the back of a filing cabinet…like way in the back, where no one can reach.
I’m just going to breeze past this assignment, casually mention it and move on. “We did this paper in class the other day to assess each student’s writing.” I keep talking at a fast pace, hoping neither one of them stops to read his words. “I was looking for whether or not Krew started each sentence with a capital letter and finished it off with a period.”
Tyler picks up the corner of the paper, tilting it toward him. “All About Me, by Krew Dixon.” He raises his eyebrows at his son before glancing back at the paper.
Oh, no.
He’s going to read it out loud, and then he’s going to start crying because he misses his amazing wife so much and the hole in his heart is too deep. Then Diane will start crying, and I’ll start crying because I miss my mom. This will turn out to be the worst Meet the Teacher Night ever.
“My mom died.” Tyler pauses after reading the first sentence, looking up quickly at me and Diane before continuing. “We go to her grave. We bring her flowers. The yellow are her favorite.”
I watch as Tyler’s hand goes to Krew’s back and he gently squeezes his shoulder. It’s so adorable I might start crying because of that single shoulder squeeze, but I keep it together, since no one else seems to be crying.
“My dad is sad. He sleeps on her side of the bed and smells her pillow.” Tyler coughs out a laugh and glances at me. “I don’t smell her pillow.”
“Yes!” Krew protests. “I’ve seen you.”
He pulls his son closer, laughing nervously. “You’re telling Miss Johnson all of my secrets.”
I press my lips into a small smile, trying to ease his embarrassment. “I thought it was cute.”
“Are you sure you didn’t mean to say pathetic?” he asks, matching my smile with one of his own.
“Definitely cute.”
Meg!
I’m the one flirting now.
I’m the face-palm emoji personified.
I dial it back, smiling at Diane who is watching us carefully. “There’s also a sentence about you in Krew’s writing.”
“Oh?” One dark brow lifts, but her eyes pin me to my cushioned chair.
Krew reads the last line of his story. “My grandma works at the school and lets me help her after school when I wait for my dad.”
Slowly, her head turns to her grandson. “You do help me after school.”
“That’s a great story, buddy,” Tyler says.
“Mrs. Johnson is just like me,” Krew says to his dad. “Her mom died too.”
His blue eyes skip to mine, and there’s so much understanding and sincerity behind his gaze that I want to crawl into his lap and let him rock me gently as I cry into his shoulder.
“I’m sorry to hear about your mom. When did she die?”
