Page 7 of A Better Place

CHAPTER TWO

James

Holy shit. The minute I climb back into my car after dropping off Harper at school I immediately start doing a little recon. I need to find out more information about who Ms. Hanson is. Like her first name, for example. I noticed she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, and obviously, it’s Ms. rather than Mrs., but that doesn’t mean anything. I’m not going to question the fact that I desperately want to know.

Unfortunately, my detective skills aren’t proving very strong, and all I find is something on the school website that tells me her first name and email address. Nothing on Facebook, or BookFace, as Barrett calls it. In fact, I can’t find anything that can possibly be her or Jack on any form of social media. Which is odd. A sixteen-year-old not on social media might be the eighth wonder of the world.

I can ask Tess tonight when they get home, but I don’t want to encourage her. I know where her mind will go if I ask — not that it’s not similar to where my own mind is traveling to. I’m just not sure I want her involved. At least not yet.

I have a few hours to kill before I need to be back here with Subway in hand, so I can have lunch with Harper and as much as I may be trying to deny it, I’m already looking forward to the fact that I get to see Carly again.

I spend the next few hours cleaning up the house from the chaos that ensued last night. After Grady’s buddies came over to see Harper, the house wasn’t necessarily in perfect condition. I made supper for everyone and, even though they helped clean up, the tornado that is teenagers seemed to leave its wake. Tess and Barrett are coming home early from their vacation because of Harper’s accident, and I don’t want them to walk into a disaster.

I glance over at the clock and realize I better leave if I want to get Harper’s lunch and over to the school in time. I change into a long-sleeve shirt because this morning at breakfast Harper said something about playing at recess if Ms. Hanson lets me stay, put my vest back on, and head out the door.

After I get our lunch from Subway, I go back over to the school, park in the visitor parking, and go into the front door to sign in and get a tag. The moment I step out of the office, I see Carly leading her class toward the lunchroom. The smile that takes over my face just at the sight of her is probably bordering a little on the creepy side, but I can’t help it. I’ve never had this type of reaction before.

Carly Hanson is beautiful. She could be mistaken for Carrie Underwood’s slightly older sister. With her straight bright blond hair that sits just at her shoulders and bright brown eyes, I feel like she has me under a spell.

She stumbles a bit when she sees me, making me smile wider at her cute klutziness, but then turns a smile my way and keeps walking the kids toward the lunchroom with a nod of her head, silently telling me to follow her.

“Harper’s so excited to have you eat lunch with her today. I’ve never heard her ask when lunchtime is so many times,” she tells me after I make my way to her, glancing behind us at the line of kids following, reminding me of ducks trailing after their mama.

“Well, we cut a deal at the beginning of the week.”

“Ah, yes, the sleeping-in-her-own-room thing?”

I give her an odd look, probably showing my surprise that Harper would share the terms of our agreement.

She giggles at my expression, “Oh you’d be shocked to know the details I know of everyone’s families. Of course, I assume only a fraction of what I hear is truth — or a version of the truth, anyway. But the kids can’t wait to share what happened in their homes the night before.”

“Oh boy. I can only imagine. It makes me glad that I made it through without knowing what my daughter shared of our lives at home.”

“How old is your daughter?” she asks as we get closer to the lunchroom.

“Lily? She’s twenty-two. Finishing up her last year in college. I’m really proud of her.”

“I bet. What’s she studying?” She turns in the line and faces the kids when their chatter gets a little louder and does the same clap sequence that she did earlier to get their attention, and they return the pattern without as much as a blink of an eye. Clearly, it’s something they’re more than accustomed to. It’s amazing how quickly it works.

“Children,” she says in a voice that is stern yet gentle. “I know you’re excited to have a lunch visitor with us today, but this isn’t the first time.”

“It’s the first time for Uncle James, though!” a little boy, not my nephew, pipes up.

“That is true, and we’re all excited to have him join us today, but we still need to be respectful of the other classrooms who are still working.”

My eyes immediately went back to her when I heard her say, “We’re all excited,” hoping that she was including herself in that.

“Now, remember, we drew names out of the bucket for who would be able to sit at Harper’s table with James today, and for those of you who didn’t get their name drawn, we have your names in the hat for our next special guest, okay?”

I smile knowing Harper has been bragging me up. I always knew I was her favorite.

“Yes, Ms. Hanson,” they all say in unison.

She turns sparkling eyes toward me. “Harper seems to be very fond of you. She hasn’t stopped talking about Uncle James all week long. You’re pretty much a celebrity here.”

“I hope I can live up to the hype.”

“I’m pretty sure you can,” she says then blushes like I saw her do in her classroom. “So, your daughter’s major?” She asks her original question again, even after being distracted.

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