Page 1 of Love By The Falls

1

Charlotte

Simon’s stare unnerves me. The redheaded child narrows his ice-blue eyes and tilts his head to the side. He’s been staring at me since I started the math lesson twenty minutes ago. My third graders are generally attentive but often need little reminders to keep their eyes on me and the board. Simon is usually one of those students, but not today. Looking around at their curious faces, I realize all the kids are studying me strangely.

Following their gazes, I glance down at my blouse and groan inwardly when I spot the large brown stain on the white faux silk.

“Is it poo?” he asks, and the whole classroom erupts into laughter.

I raise an annoyed eyebrow at Simon, and he smiles back meekly.

“Maybe it’s breast milk,” Savannah pipes in. “My mama has stains on her shirt, and she says it’s from feeding the baby.”

I gape at Savannah and then suck in my stomach. “It’s not breast milk.” I rub uselessly at the stain. “It’s coffee, and I must’ve spilled some on my way to work this morning. Let’s get back to this equation on the board.”

Simon is more interested in my stain than the math problem. “Are you sure that’s coffee?” He narrows his eyes as though this is an interrogation.

“Yes, Simon,” I say through gritted teeth. “I’m sure. Now, can you tell me—”

“My mom drinks coffee, and it doesn’t look that dark.”

Oh, for goodness’ sake.

I march to my desk and grab the black cardigan draped over my chair, the one I keep for cooler days, and apparently embarrassing moments. Buttoning it up to my neck, I straighten it and stare back at the children. “There. The stain’s gone. Can we get back to the math lesson?”

“It’s still there. It’s just behind your sweater.”

Lord, grant me patience today.

“Right. And if I had five stains on my shirt and washed two away, how many stains would I have left?”

“Boy, Ms. Tanner, you sure are a messy drinker. My mama would not be happy with you.”

I sigh. “I’m not so thrilled with myself right now, either, Savannah.”

She nods sympathetically, and it strangely makes me feel better. Somehow, I muster my way through the rest of the math lesson without further interruption or questions about my drinking capabilities.

Shortly after the lunch bell rings, my cell phone vibrates in my purse. I rarely receive phone calls during the day, so I approach my phone, prepared to ignore it if it’s spam. Only, it’s not spam, it’s my best friend Jane calling, who’s also my son’s sixth grade teacher at the school.

“Jane? What’s wrong?”

“Hey, um, did you make lunch for Charlie this morning?”

“What?! Yes, of course,” I say.

“Do you remember packing it?”

“Of course, I…” my voice trails off as I recall the container on the kitchen counter and then Charlie calling my name to help him fit his new shoes inside his bag. With his knapsack full and heavy, I hadn’t noticed that I’d forgotten to pack his lunch. “Oh, shit.”

“It’s alright,” says Jane.

“It’s not. I forgot to feed my child. I have some granola bars inside my desk. I’ll run those over to you now.”

“No, wait.” Jane stops me before I open the top drawer. “It’s pizza day for those who order hot lunches. And there’s always extra in the office. I’ll just send Charlie down to grab a slice. It’ll be fine. I wanted to make sure he wasn’t lying about not having lunch so he could get pizza instead.”

“No, he’s not lying. I messed up.” I rub my eyes and forehead. Even though I don’t make a sound, Jane knows me well enough.

“Don’t cry, Charlotte. You’re a wonderful mom. We all make mistakes.”

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