She gives my hand another squeeze, looking to Paige, then back to me. My sister-in-law might be scary, but damn if she doesn’t see right through me.
“Deal. But you better bring the good stuff.”
Paige
As soon as Garrett walked into the library, the room went quiet. Every mother, Helicopter or not, was in awe of the man walking, no, striding into the room. Even though he came in with Charlie, it didn’t matter. Every woman, whether they were married or single, a lesbian or straight as an arrow, couldn’t take their eyes off of him. I’m pretty sure even one of the mother’s emotional support chihuahua was smitten.
Once he told everyone about the grand prize for each grade—a field trip to a Norfolk Tides baseball game—everyone with ovaries was volunteering to be a chaperone. When I reminded them that their child’s class might not win, they brushed it aside and still signed up. They all assumed Garrett would be attending. I wasn’t about to tell them that all he did was facilitate.
“Garrett, thank you again, so much, for working with the Tides and getting the winning class tickets to a game. We didn’t know how we could get our kids to want to participate in Miss Blackstone’s project until you came in and saved the day.”
It takes all I have to not roll my eyes at Amalie’s speech. Cassie was right at the beginning of the year that Annabelle was the daughter of the woman every teacher at Jefferson Elementary hates with the fire of a thousand suns. She and her cronies are everywhere, hence our nickname. And because her daughter is in my class, I get to see her every day. If it’s not a crack about the food drive, it’s a dig about my teaching style, because of course, she feels that her daughter should know more than she already does.
Every day I take her comments in stride. And every day I bite my tongue and refrain from asking her why her daughter insists on trying to eat glue sticks.
“I didn’t do anything except make a phone call,” Garrett says, trying to brush off the compliment. “Paige has done all the work. You should be thanking her.”
“Oh, Miss Blackstone knows how much we value her. She’s a treasure to have here at Jefferson. I was so happy when I was told she would be Annabelle’s teacher this year.”
“Bullshit.” The fake cough Cassie tries to use to cover up her reply isn’t as subtle as she would have liked, and any other time I’d be elbowing her to behave. But I don’t have it in me today. In fact, I can’t help but let out a small laugh.
“Excuse me?” Amalie asks Cassie. “Did you say something, Miss Green?”
“I said bull—”
“Well, thank you all for coming,” I say, stopping Cassie and Amalie before things get out of hand. “It seems that we have everything in order. Everyone has six weeks to collect as many non-perishable items as possible. Grade winners will be announced at the spring carnival, which I will be heading up with the help of the parent advisory board. Class moms, if you need anything else, please let me know. And if there’s nothing else, we are set. Food drive begins now!”
The volunteers and the handful of teachers who agreed to help begin to scatter out of the library as I unceremoniously plop down in my seat.
“Who the hell is that bitch?” I look up to see Charlie standing in front of me, her scowl pointing straight to Amalie.
“That’s Amalie Brainard. At least, I think that’s her last name now. I can’t keep track,” Cassie says, taking a seat next to me. “And I’m Cassie Green. I teach fourth grade, and judging by the way you began this conversation, we are about to be best friends.”
I laugh as Cassie begins filling Charlie in about Amalie and the Helicopters when I realize that Garrett is standing in front of me. I don’t know how I missed him. The man towers over me, especially when I’m sitting down. And that’s not even going into the powerful presence he exudes just by being in a room. Or the smell of his cologne.
“Are all volunteer meetings like that?” he asks, taking a seat across from me.
I laugh. Surely he has to realize he was the reason that every mom jumped up to chaperone a baseball game. “No. And while I appreciate you volunteering and helping out, I think it’s best if you don’t attend any more meetings.”
“I disagree,” Cassie interrupts. “This was the most entertaining parent-teacher meeting we’ve ever had. Garrett, I’ll email you a schedule.”
“If Garrett is coming, do I have to?” Charlie asks. “I mean, I think it’s enough that one member of Cullen’s family represents the group.”
I shake my head. “Nope. You’re stuck here. As long as your child is my student, I require you to save me from the Helicopters.”
Charlie sighs. “I figured. Honestly, it’s the least I can do for you putting up with my kid. Oh, and sorry about last week. I talked to him and took away his iPad for the weekend. He should be good now.”
“What did my nephew do this time?” Garrett asks.
“We were going through the alphabet and I asked the class to say words that started with the letter I pointed to,” I say, taking a breath because I know I’m going to crack up when I say it out loud. “And when I got to F, your nephew raised his hand in the air, and before I could even call on him, he yelled ‘fart!’ The class then decided that that was the word of the day and said it no less than two hundred times before pickup. A few even acted it out.”
Everyone laughs, because let’s be honest, it is kind of funny.
“I’m just glad he didn’t say fuck,” Charlie says, rubbing a stray tear from her face. “I really thought that’s where the story was going when you called to tell me what he did.”
As the laughter dies down, I begin to gather my papers, happy for once that I don’t have anything to do tonight. Cassie bids everyone goodbye and I walk with Garrett and Charlie to our cars.
“See you at the house?” Charlie says to Garrett as she climbs into her SUV.
“I’ll be there in thirty. I’ll bring the scotch.”
“Grab a bottle of wine too. Remember, no cheap shit. See you later, Paige!”
I continue walking to my car, realizing Garrett is still walking with me. It hits me that since the food drive is up and running, there’s no reason for me and Garrett to continue talking. The thought of not getting a random text message about how many kids would be attending and if he should set up food vouchers makes me sad.
“I guess I’ll see you around?” he says.
“Yeah. I guess so. Thanks again for helping. You didn’t have to, but I appreciate it.”
He runs a hand through his hair, almost seeming nervous, but for what, I have no idea. “It was no problem. I’m glad to help. And of course, I’m going to make sure Cullen’s class wins.”
I laugh, having no doubt he will buy every canned good in Virginia to make that happen.
I reach for the door of my car when his voice stops me.
“Is there more that I can do?”
I look over at him, a little shocked at his words. I know he said he was interested in volunteering and doing more to give back. I honestly didn’t expect him to after the food drive. He’s a busy man with a busy schedule. Most people in his tax bracket just write a check to say that they are contributing to charities.