Her eyebrows arched ever so slightly, as if to say, “I did.”
“Sure, I know you and Robert are proof that it can happen, but statistically speaking”—not to mention what I’d witnessed firsthand as a child—“a marriage partnership like yours is rare. And not only because of your united stance on adoption but all your other shared values, too, like faith and parenting styles.” I didn’t realize how fervent my voice had become, but all of this was fact. Strong marriages and families didn’t just happen. They took time, effort, work, and the kind of energy I could only imagine expending on a child destined to be mine.
I took a breath and lowered my volume. “My little family will look different than some, I know that, but I’ll do everything I can to love and support my child, even if that means choosing to stay single indefinitely.”
She covered my hand with hers and smiled. Its warmth checked all my neglected approval boxes, allowing me to mull over my commitment the way I’d done when I first started the process with Small Wonders International over a year ago. Nothing had changed since then. It was still the right decision. The only decision.
I would be a single mother by choice, and that relationship was the only one I needed to be focused on.
chapter
five
Despite the invisible tether that linked our two first-grade classrooms, I’d managed to steer clear of any extracurricular socializing with the sub across the hall since Monday. An effort that accounted for nearly four days of not reacting when his signature laugh reverberated through the auditorium during rained-in recess. Or when he awed the students in the cafeteria with a straw trick from his college years. Or when the morning announcements came on, opening the school day with the Pledge of Allegiance, courtesy of Mr. T-Rex himself.
How Joshua could teach after such a gravelly rendition, I had no idea, but every teacher I passed seemed absolutely smitten with him. Even Mrs. Dalton had come around since he broke her quiet rule in the library. Maybe she had a secret affinity for dinosaur impersonations. Or maybe . . . maybe she saw what everybody else saw in him: a man who brought a fresh dose of cheer to every room he visited in our school.
With the weekend countdown firmly in mind, I assisted my last student into her father’s SUV and closed the door, giving them a slight wave as they drove off. It was then I spotted him, my arm bent in a mid-wave, at the end of the carpool line. He was holding the gloved hand of a sobbing child. Little Mason Grady.
On instinct, I moved toward the pair, hugging my jacket tighter around my middle as a strong gust of wind stung my eyes. The weather had made a sharp turn this last week, the crisp autumn air mimicking winter’s bone-chilling drop in temperature.
“Hey, Mason, what’s going on, buddy?” I glanced up at Joshua before crouching to eye level with the boy.
He sniffed and wiped his snotty nose against his knit Spiderman glove. “My . . . dad . . . didn’t come.”
Understanding twisted my gut. Mason’s parents’ divorce finalized at the beginning of the school year, and the back-and-forth of rides and overnights had been taking a toll on Mason and his older sister.
I tipped his chin so his eyes met mine. “Let’s go call him together, okay? I’m sure he’s on his way.”
A big sniffle paired with a teary nod were the precursor of Mason’s arms shooting around my middle and nearly knocking me off-balance and onto my backside. Joshua placed a steadying hand on my shoulder, and the firmness of his grip created a ripple of awareness down my spine.
I patted Mason’s back and spoke soothingly into his ear. “You’re okay, buddy. We’ll work this out. I promise.”
Both his parents were good people. Stressed and burdened, yes, but hardworking and dedicated to making a new and healthy normal for their kids. Even so, Mason’s emotional response to a late-arriving pickup wasn’t unusual. I’d seen similar heartbreaks in dozens of children over upsets at home. I understood them well. After a shudder passed, he pulled back and wiped his eyes along his blue coat sleeve one more time.
“Okay.” He reached for my hand. “Do you have any suckers in your classroom, Miss B?”
I chuckled at this quick transition. “I believe I do.”
It was then I noticed Mason’s other hand still latched onto Joshua’s. Joshua, whose gaze was acutely affixed on my face.
Thanks, he mouthed as our eyes met.
I nodded and promptly glanced away.
Hand in hand in hand, we strolled as a trio into Brighton, Joshua opening the heavy metal door so we could enter ahead of him.
“I only like the red, orange, and blue ones,” Mason said, rerouting my thoughts from the gentlemanly manners of one Mr. Avery to the prize bag in my classroom. “Not the brown ones.”
“Not the brown ones, huh?” Joshua repeated. “I can’t remember, are those chocolate or root beer flavored?”
“I don’t know. They’re just super yucky.”
“Fair enough. That’s how I feel about orange circus peanuts. Have you tried that candy?”
Mason shook his head.
“They look like squishy peanuts the color of peach flesh. Naturally, one would assume the flavor to be either peanut butter or fruit. But nope, it’s neither. Those candies taste like chewing on a giant, flavorless foam finger.” He shuddered. “It’s the worst kind of false advertising.”
“Gross.” Mason’s firm agreement as we entered my classroom had me holding in a laugh.
I retrieved my rainbow sequin prize bag from the hook above the cubbies, then held it out to Mason. He rummaged through it for several seconds until he pulled out a blue Tootsie Pop.
“Good choice!” Joshua affirmed with a pat on Mason’s back as I picked up my phone and dialed the front office to let Diana know Mason was waiting in my room. She confirmed that his father had already called the school and was on his way. I relayed the news to the sweet ginger-haired boy sucking happily on a lollipop and watched from my periphery as Joshua meandered through my classroom.
“Can I have a sucker for my sister, too, Miss Bailey? She’s in the sixth grade. Sometimes she pretends that she doesn’t like candy anymore, but I saw her sneak a piece from the pantry last week. So she actually really does like it.”
And this was why I adored children so much. They could flip from inconsolable to insightful in a matter of minutes. Of course, offering them sugar on a stick might have something to do with that. But still. There was nothing I loved more than the innocence of a child. I offered him another blue sucker for his sister.
Shamelessly, Joshua continued his stroll to the back half of my room. He’d peeked behind shelves and inside cubbies, perusing my classroom like an open house on the market. If he hadn’t looked so darn fascinated by it all, I may have tossed my dry eraser at the back of his head for being such a snoop. Or at least, I would have threatened to. Violent acts weren’t really my kind of thing.
“It appears all the rumors from Brighton’s students are correct. Your classroom is totally awesome, Laur—Miss B,” he corrected with a sharp glance in Mason’s direction. He rolled a yoga ball out from one of the desks and bounced on it several times, right before he transitioned to a wiggle board and extended his arms like a surfer riding a wave. “I want this setup for my home office.”