Page 39 of A Better Place

CHAPTER SEVEN

Carly

Thanksgiving has come and gone, and we are just two days away from Christmas break. The kids are basically one step from acting like they’re hopped up on some of Christine’s chocolate-covered espresso beans, so every night when I get home from school, I’m beyond exhausted. Between trying to keep their attention on curriculum and not on their Christmas lists to Santa, making sure they’re all bundled up before recess then helping them get out of their snow gear after recess, handing out Kleenex for all the snotty noses and squirting Germ-X on their hands like my life depended on it, I am so wiped out that I pretty much collapse the moment I get home from school or the gym at night.

But one bright spot to my day? One moment where I feel the exhaustion fade and my heart to race? Is when I receive a text from James. Every day he texts me something that puts a smile on my face. Whether it’s a simple “How was your day?” to an e-card he thought was funny that I just had to see. Several times he calls before bed. We’ll talk for hours about everything and nothing. We’ve also seen each other a few times, though I’m beginning to feel not nearly as often as I’d like. Once when James asked Jack and me to eat at a restaurant a few towns over, another when he stopped in with pizza and a plan to watch Food Network with Jack. He even came over to help me hang Christmas lights.

Of course, that evening I was a total wreck, fumbling over my words and feet all night, overwhelmed by his kindness and selfless generosity. Jack and James built their own sort of bond already. With the football season in his rearview mirror, proudly claiming their Runner-up-at-State status, he has been shifting his focus. Whenever he has a free moment, he’s been spending time at Balance with James, helping him clean up, researching appliances, going over menu items. James has made Jack feel like he’s a part of the restaurant, and the simple knowledge of my son having someone in his life who is willing to support and encourage him is unnerving. So, when he showed up to hang out for the night, he and Jack slipped beautifully into their already-established relationship. I, on the other hand, nearly face-planted when I tripped over the coffee table, only to be caught around the waist by James. The nearness of him combined with the smell of his body wash made my head dizzier than it was in the first place.

Every day he breaks down another section of wall that I’ve built around myself, but I’m not going to let him break it down completely. Getting burned in the love department once is enough for a lifetime, and I have no intention of going back there. But the friendship is nice. More than nice, if I have to admit it. In the end, though, that’s all it can ever be. Friendship with the super-hot-uncle-of-the-year, who raised his daughter on his own, loves his family more than himself, is willing to help Jack in discovering his dream, makes me laugh — and did I mention how hot he is? Friendship. Yup. That’s what I chant to myself several times a day.

He’s been staying at Tess and Barrett’s until he gets his place set up, which is actually going to be the apartment above the restaurant. It wasn’t what he originally planned, but it turns out it’s a nice space, or so he and Jack told me. At this point, I don’t think he’ll be allowed to move out of the Ryan’s house any time soon. Harper tells me a story every day that includes the wonderful Uncle James, and today is no different.

Harper runs into the classroom, then hugs me around the legs and tugs on my hand so I give my full attention to her.

“Miss Hanson, you should have eaten supper at our house last night! Uncle James made us really yummy mac and cheese — and his doesn’t come in that box — and real fried chicken! Oh, and collars that were green!”

I’m not sure what all the real food means, but I assume it was made from scratch.

“Green collars?” I smile.

“Uh huh! And they looked gross, but they were really really good because they had bacon in them.”

“That sounds delicious! Did you help with any of it?”

She nods her head emphatically. “I did! I put the gross chicken in the flour stuff for him and made sure it was coated. That’s what he called it. And I helped get the big hunk of cheese into tiny pieces then he had me stir the cheese into the noodles.”

“Sounds like you were a big help!”

“I was. Uncle James told me I was the best little helper in the kitchen ever. Wait. Didn’t Jack tell you what he ate last night? He helped too, but I think I was a bigger helper than he was.”

“Well, Jack did tell me James was teaching him how to make a few things in the kitchen and told me what you made, but he didn’t tell me what a big help you were!”

“That’s probably because he felt bad that I was a bigger helper than he was, you know, since he’s bigger than me.”

“I bet that was it.” I nod, trying to hold back my laughter.

“You should come have supper with us some time!”

“Maybe.”

I learned a long time ago that I should never commit fully to anything my students ask of me. If I don’t follow through, which in this case I won’t be, I am always on their pint-sized poop list for as long as it takes them to get over it. Which usually isn’t very long, considering a six and seven-year-old’s attention span is pretty darn short.

Jack and I have finished eating supper, and he’s now locked up in his bedroom, doing homework and who knows what else, probably talking to Maggie in whatever way teenagers do. He seems to be getting closer to Maggie every day, but just like James and me, they’re just friends. Although, I don’t see it sticking to just friendship with them. Even Grady seems to be softening to the idea of his little sister dating.

After my shower, I change into some soft gray lounge pants and a lavender long-sleeve Henley. I brush out my wet hair but leave it down to dry. Sometimes I feel blessed for my naturally pin-straight hair, but having a little bit of curl would be nice. When I don’t feel like taking the time to do much with it, like right now, I feel very fortunate for it.

I’m settled in on my favorite oversized chair with a glass of wine and my Kindle, already getting lost in the story of a tattoo artist and reality TV show producer that I can’t seem to put down, when my phone beside me alerts me with a text. I smile and reach over for it, already knowing who it’s going to be. I wasn’t ready to actually watch our episodes of Shameless together, but we do talk on the phone or text while we watch it. I feel like I’m a teenager again, and soon I hope I’m ready to actually watch the episodes together.

Captain James:Incoming

First of all, don’t judge me on my name for him in my phone. If he ever sees it, I’ll surely die of embarrassment, but I can’t help myself.

Second, what the heck does incoming mean? Unfortunately, I don’t have to wonder for long because I hear a knock on my front door.

The smile that I had plastered on my face from seeing his name light up my screen? Gone. Replaced with my smile? Pure panic. I’m literally just in pants and a shirt. Meaning, no bra. I quickly look around the house for something to throw over my shirt and find a long black lightweight cardigan that I had worn to work today. But that only takes care of one problem. I’m standing in my living room, not a drop of makeup, hair still damp from my shower, and… giant, neon-pink, fuzzy slippers on my feet.

I hear another knock on the door followed by James’s deep voice. “Carly?! Beautiful. Remember?”

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