Page 29 of O Goalie Night
I wave back, wondering what the hell is going on. “Good morning...”
“I’m Tucker. You’re all set,” the man says as he gives Foster’s black Lexus an almost reverent pat with his gloved hand. “We’ve changed the tires and topped up your windshield wiper fluid. The roads aren’t bad, actually. The snowplows have been out all night. But if you’d rather notdrive, I’d be more than happy to take you to work and pick you up at the end of the day.”
I’m so distracted by the strangers in the driveway that I don’t notice the car which has been cleaned off and appears to be sporting four, shiny new tires.
Foster.
I’m not worried about the car, Beth.
My heartbeat quickens at the thought of him being so concerned for my personal safety that he sent a crew of men in the early morning to winterise his car. But that’s just Foster, right? The man is a natural born protector who’s done nothing but look out for me since I arrived. I’d like to spend more time unpacking this, but I have a job to get to.
I thank the men and assure them I’ll be fine to get to work on my own. Once I’m in the car, I send Foster a message.
Beth: Thank you. You really didn’t need to do that.
His reply comes so quickly that, if I didn’t know better, I’d think he was waiting on my text.
Foster: Yes I did. Drive safely. Text when you get to work.
Foster: Please.
Grinning, I put my phone in my bag and start the car. The windshield is so clean it’s as if it wasn’t buried in snow an hour before.
Tucker was right; the roads have been cleaned upnicely, especially considering how much snow came down. Still, I take my time, wary of any black ice that might be hiding.
The commute seems so different this morning, like the snow has softened the edges of everything. I catch glimpses of people shovelling their driveways, bundled up in puffy coats and bright scarves, their breath visible in the cold air. I sing along to the radio all the way to work.
I really love how close Foster’s place is to the school. The place I’ll be renting in the new year is twice as far. But at least it exists, unlike the last place I rented.
Once I’ve parked in the staff parking lot, I retrieve my phone from my purse and text Foster again.
Beth: Beth Michaels has been marked SAFE at Stittsville Elementary.
Foster: Thanks
If they weren’t attached to my face, I’m certain my eyebrows would have hit the ceiling of the luxury SUV.
Foster: Shit. My finger slipped.
I break into hysterics thinking of the horror on Foster’s face at sending me that little pink heart and decide to screw with him.
Beth: Of course it did
Not expecting a reply, I grab my bag, but just as I’m about to climb out, the phone buzzes again.
Foster: Thanks for understanding
I squeal and do a little dance in my seat. He’s not flirting with me; not really. But it’s likely the closest I’ll ever get, so I plan to enjoy it while I can.
Beth: Anytime
The kids are bouncingoff the walls with excitement today. I’m not sure if it’s because it’s Friday, there is a coating of fresh snow to play in or the fact that every day that passes brings us one step closer to Christmas vacation, but they are like ticking bombs ready to go off at any minute.
I land in the staff room with my lunch bag feeling like I’ve crawled off a battlefield. The children, so sweet and attentive when I started last week, have gotten wilder and more unhinged as the days go by. And there are still five weeks of school before the break!
“Hey there,” Jacob says, his face lighting up when he spots me. “You look like you could use this.” He hands me a cup of coffee which I accept gratefully.
“Is it that obvious?” I croak, bringing the cup to my lips and making a mental note to check my appearance in the bathroom before the afternoon.
