She replied, Wait half an hour, then give them a book. Per regs, they have to rest quietly for two hours. We can’t make them sleep.
Gotcha.
She added, Usually, I go to lunch now, but I’ll stay for the first hour, until most of them fall asleep.
Okay, thanks.
If a kid gives you problems after I leave, rub his back. That sometimes works. If it escalates to tantrum territory, call me. Then she scrawled her number. I’ll come in to regulate.
The kids were fine, though. Fifteen of them dropped off in the first twenty minutes, and another succumbed as Mrs. Trent slipped out to take a well-deserved break. As if that was his cue, Sam popped up on his cot. Oooh, you little faker.
He peered around the room. “Nadia?”
I navigated through sleeping children, afraid he’d wake them up, and it would be a huge, chaotic mess when Mrs. Trent got back. Kneeling down beside him, I whispered, “What is it?”
“I can’t sleep. There’s too much breathing.”
“Do you want to look at a book?” If I’d known he was still awake, I’d have offered him one earlier.
“Okay.”
He was close enough to the window that I wasn’t worried about his eyesight. I got him the book Mrs. Trent had read earlier, thinking it might help if he was familiar with it, since I didn’t have a clear sense of Sam’s reading aptitude. Some four-year-olds could sound out words like first graders—others were still struggling to remember what sound each letter made.
“Can you sit next to me?”
Without answering, I slid down, wedged between Sam and the wall. I could still see all the other kids, though. He turned onto his stomach and opened the book. At this point, I wasn’t sure it was even worth trying, but I followed Mrs. Trent’s advice and rubbed his back in little circles. Honest to God, I was surprised when he shoved the book to the side and flopped on his pillow. Sam gave me a sleepy smile and then closed his eyes. His breath evened out, joining the rest of the class. It was silly how happy it made me, as if I’d scaled Everest or invented a lifesaving vaccine.
On tiptoe, I went back to the carpet pile, and when Mrs. Trent flipped the lights on, the kids were bright-eyed, ready to put their stuff away. She got them settled for snack while I wiped down and put away the cots. Afterward, another potty break, and then they lined up so they could take their turn playing outside. In a month or so, this ritual would include jackets, then hats and scarves, and eventually, they’d lose outdoor playtime to frosty weather. Usually, I’d have been pulled away by now, so it was interesting to see how routine made things easier.
Mrs. Trent led them out the side door and onto the playground. I came last to make sure nobody was left behind. Sam immediately ran for the slide while some kids raced for the swings, and others jumped on wobbly bees and dragonflies. I circulated, giving a push here, admiring a rock there, until the break was over. When we took them inside, it was almost four, and time for more face-and hand-washing.
While I set out crayons and pictures to color, Mrs. Trent sat down to write up her daily reports, detailing any problems or milestones. I got the kids settled and sat with them while they created masterpieces for their parents, who started arriving half an hour later. I shook a lot of hands, confirmed that I would be replacing Elaine part-time and made people happy by confessing that I was a college junior, studying education. By 5:15 p.m. we were down to thirteen students, and Sam was one of them.
“One more pickup, and you can head out, Nadia.”
“That would be great.” As a floater, I often ended up closing the facility down, and I had homework waiting, not to mention more reading, and a sample lesson plan project with only a week until it was due.
Ty was the next person to walk in. Sam jumped up from the table and ran to him, waving his picture excitedly. He had about a thousand things to say, all at once, and his dad beamed, like this was the best part of his day, and it made everything else worth it. Quite often, at pickup, the dads were impatient or irritated; Ty’s interaction with his son only made him seem hotter.
I’ve got to get over this.
“...and I slept for, like, twelve hours!” Sam finished.
He glanced at me, brow raised, so I clarified, “It was more like forty-five minutes.”
“But he did nap? Impressive. He stopped sleeping during the day with my aunt when he was three.”
“Everyone else was napping,” Sam said. “It was really quiet.”
I hung back while Mrs. Trent chatted over first-day impressions, then she gave Ty the report. Left to my own devices, I probably would’ve lingered to avoid potential awkwardness, but Mrs. T turned and made a shooing motion. “I’m down to twelve. Get out of here.”
So I signed out, grabbed my purse and left with Ty and Sam, who was swinging hard on his dad’s arm. Ty carried his backpack, glancing over at me now and then with an inscrutable look. But Mrs. Keller flagged me at the front door.
“Forms, remember? It won’t take long.”
I waved as Ty led Sam out. Five minutes later, I followed. It was dumb to be disappointed that the silver Focus was gone. I climbed into my Toyota and drove home. Our timing was off because Ty’s car was parked but they were already inside. I had no excuse to see him again, and I didn’t know if he wanted to go back to the balcony chats, after Saturday night. Maybe some distance would be good? Tired, I trudged up to our apartment and found everyone at home. At this hour, that was so surprising that I pretended to stare at them suspiciously.
“Is this an intervention?”
Lauren narrowed her eyes. “Have you been up to something that calls for it?”
“Probably,” I said, smirking.
She demanded that I spill, but I couldn’t. The whole Ty thing was complicated; I felt like I’d be violating his privacy if I dished like he was just any other guy, and there was Sam to consider. So I just shrugged and fell into the recliner, since Lauren was cuddling with Angus while making Max rub her feet. One of these days, I have to learn that trick. With natural blond hair and blue eyes, Lauren was pretty, though she was constantly saying she needed to lose twenty pounds. More to the point, she was sweet and had been at age seven, when she became my best friend by hitting Billy Derwent in the head with a glue bottle; he was trying to steal my lunch at the time.
“Your secrecy is starting to trouble me,” she said in an ominous tone.
“I’ll talk only when there’s something to say.”
“Said no woman ever.” Angus groaned when Lauren elbowed him.
“Fascinating as this is,” Max cut in, “I was wondering if you guys want to go to the dollar house tonight.”
There were two cinemas in Mount Albion, a regular-priced new cineplex, and a grubby, cut-rate one that had four screens and you paid between two and four dollars for a ticket, depending on the type of movie. Old blockbusters were usually four; the weird shit Max liked to watch was generally two.
“I still haven’t forgiven you for Thankskilling,” Lauren said. “But if I get to a good stopping point on my history paper, I could be persuaded to go sit in the dark and eat nachos.”
Angus shook his head. “Pass for me. Josh is cooking dinner.”
“Fancy,” I said.
“Oh, it’ll be revolting. But I didn’t have the heart to say no. He’s so cute when he tries.” Angus shoved Lauren off him and got up. “Speaking of which, I need to get moving.”
“What about you, Conrad? If you don’t go, Lauren might get overexcited over riding on the back of my bike. She might even think this is a date. It’ll be anarchy.”
“Cats living with dogs,” I said seriously.
I thought for a few seconds, listening to Angus bang around his room, presumably looking for something. He ran out a few seconds later. If I stayed home, I would have complete privacy for a balcony chat. On the other hand, I’d been neglecting my roomies lately, and I couldn’t let my fascination with Ty bloom into a full obsession, especially when he had been crystal clear about his intentions.
“I’m in, as long as we go to the late show. I have work to do first.”
“All work and no play, something something, make me a sandwich?” Max tried.
I smacked him on the way to the kitchen for some ramen, then I took the cup to my room and cracked open a virtual textbook while I ate. The reading went fast—well, for me; my lesson plan project less so, but I typed up some ideas and compiled a folder full of samples to give me more direction. Later, Lauren came in and got on her laptop, tapping away on her paper.
By nine, Max was wandering around our room, bored and touching things. When he opened my underwear drawer, I kicked him. “Fine, I get it. You’re ready to leave.”
I went in the bathroom, tried to tame my curls and brushed my teeth. Then I dodged into the closet and changed my shirt. The jeans were fine. I added a swipe of gloss, a beanie when I realized my hair was horrible, and emerged, scowling.
“It’s about time.” Lauren grinned to show she was kidding.
“I take it I’m driving.”
“If only I had a sidecar,” Max said.
Though I grumbled, I didn’t mind playing chauffeur. Max climbed in the back, letting Lauren have shotgun. I turned the music up really loud—to the point that it was impossible to do anything but scream along. Turned out it was a horror-movie parody Max wanted to see, so it was two bucks, as predicted. I ate nachos and chocolate for dinner, plus I laughed a lot.
Not bad.
It was late when we got home because Max talked us into swinging by the diner for midnight pancakes. They were delicious, but now I had to add a gym visit to my to-do list tomorrow. While Lauren and Max went straight to bed, I made a cup of tea and drank it alone on the balcony. Ty must be in bed by now. His patio was dark apart from the fading twinkle of his solar lights, and his living room lamp was off, too.
I drained the mug in a hurry and didn’t look up at the stars, not remotely ready to see if they’d shine as bright without him. It couldn’t happen, and I planned to fight this feeling, no surrender, until I could treat Ty with the same affection I gave my roomies.
“We could’ve been so good together,” I whispered to the night.
Leaving if only behind, I squared my shoulders and went silently inside.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The rest of September, I was strong.
I went to school and hung out with friends, did coursework, turned in my project on time and continued to doubt myself as I struggled in the practicum. Pretty much the only time I saw Ty was when he picked Sam up from school. Since he didn’t ask why I’d backed off, I figured he knew. If he minded, he’d say something, right? This wasn’t the typical dating move—run to see if he’ll chase you. It was far more basic and for the sake of self-preservation. I’d skated right up to the edge of falling for him, and had fallen hard, but since he was honest with me about his situation, I regrouped.
After that first time, Ty never acted like he didn’t know me. When our paths crossed outside the building or at the fitness center, we made casual conversation. He was friendly. Sometimes we talked about how Sam was doing at day care. If it stung a bit for things to be like this when we had so much damned potential, well, it was better than huge heartbreak later.
I’m being sensible. It makes no sense to fixate on a guy I can’t have.
Things were on a pretty even keel, and I wasn’t horrified by my test scores, mostly As and Bs. I had almost forgotten—okay, not at all—the rush of excitement I’d felt waiting for Ty on the balcony, so I was surprised to find him waiting one night after work. He’d picked Sam up and they left the building before me, but as I stepped outside, I saw them in the parking lot.
“Do you have a minute?” he asked.
“Sure.” I was too startled to say anything else.
“Let me get Sam squared away. Walk us to the car?”
“Please, Nadia?” The small Tyler gazed up at me imploringly, and I probably wouldn’t say no if he asked for a kidney.
“No problem, bud.”
He looked at me mock-reproachfully. “My name is Sam.” Then he laughed, because he never tired of that game.
While I’d spent less time with his dad lately, I spent twenty-odd hours a week with Sam. He was smart, adorable, funny, all-around awesome. Late at night, after doing my homework, I got on joke sites because he was obsessed with dinosaurs. So now, whenever I first saw him, I had to come up with a new one every time as a greeting. Today it was: What do you get when dinosaurs crash their cars? Tyrannosaurus wrecks! Then I wrote out the words, so he could really appreciate the joke. The day before, I hit him with, What do you call it when a dinosaur makes a goal with a soccer ball? A dino-score! His giggle was seriously the light of my life.
Tonight he melted my heart by hugging me tight around the neck and giving me a wet kiss on the cheek. “See you Monday!”
Then Ty buckled him into his car seat and shut the door, giving us a moment of privacy. I hadn’t let myself think about him or miss him, but right then, those repressed feelings swamped me. I was probably doing the hungry staring at the moment but I couldn’t help it.
“It feels like I haven’t talked to you in forever,” he said quietly.
“Been a few weeks.”
“But you’re never out of mind. Sam’s favorite sentence these days starts with ‘Nadia says...’ He’s always chattering about you.”
Trying for a friendly smile, I answered, “I’m glad he likes it here. I wouldn’t have recommended it if I didn’t honestly think it’s a great environment.”
“Yeah. That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about, though.”
“What’s up?” My faux-chipper expression wouldn’t give anything away, right?
Ty put a hand on my shoulder. “Stop that. Stop.”
“Huh?”
“Be real. Be you.”
It shook me that he knew me well enough already to understand that three weeks away from him hadn’t cured my feelings or even lessened them. Damn. I was so totally fooling myself. The warmth of his palm nearly melted my spine. Somehow I managed not to lean into him.
“Okay.” My smile dropped, and I gave him what he wanted. This face, you show me everything. “I missed you. But it seemed like a good idea to back off. We got in deep that night.”
“True, it was a little fast, and I’m not known for insta-bonding. So I appreciate the thinking time. And...I’d like to take you up on that offer, if it still stands.”
My heart skittered. “Which one?”
“Broken Arrow is playing this weekend, and I’ve been curious about their live shows. I’m dropping Sam off with my parents tonight. Would you go with me tomorrow?”
For a few seconds, I considered playing it cool. This was short notice, but if Lauren was asking, I wouldn’t blink over last-minute plans. “Absolutely. I’m going to a party tonight, but I haven’t made plans for Saturday yet.”
“I’d say I’ll pick you up, but it makes more sense for you to come downstairs when you’re ready.”
“Agreed. What kind of place is it?” I was wondering how I should dress.
“Underground whiskey bar, styled after a speakeasy. Do you know what that is?”
“Are you serious? Roaring ’20s. Prohibition. I did take U.S. History.”
He smiled down at me and the humor went clear through to his eyes, lighting them from within. “You’re cute when you’re defensive. Don’t take it personally. Most people in our age bracket would blank stare in response to the word speakeasy.”
“God, the way you talk.”
“I’m not a silver-tongued devil, I take it?”
I smirked. “Closer with the grumpy asshole warning.”
“You’re breaking my heart. Anyway, jeans will be fine, unless you just can’t resist dressing like a flapper. I respect the need for cosplay.”
The minute he said that, I mentally ransacked my closet, trying to remember if I had anything sparkly that could fit the bill. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”