Page 3 of Turn My Crank

The knowledge that Susie talks about me in class warms my chest. "Yeah, I co-own Mountain Mechanics in town."

"So you fix things for a living." There's something in her expression I can't quite read. Interest, maybe? "That's a valuable skill."

"I try my best," I say, suddenly feeling like an awkward teenager instead of a thirty-year-old man. "Though clearly my time management could use some work." I gesture vaguely at Susie, who's now showing off the cupcakes to her friends.

Lacy's smile widens. "You made it before the bell. In my book, that's winning."

Another parent approaches with a question, and I realize I'm holding up the line. "I should let you get back to it. Have a good birthday, Lacy."

"Thank you, Colby." She hesitates, then adds, "We're having parent-teacher conferences next week. I look forward to catching up properly then."

Is it my imagination, or is there an invitation in her eyes?

"I'll be there," I promise, backing away before I can say something stupid.

As I walk back to my truck, I find myself smiling. Maybe Susie's matchmaking attempts aren't so misguided after all.

My phone buzzes with a text from Lane:Harley owner just called. Wants to know if we can add custom pipes. You in?

Work calls, but for once, my mind isn't racing ahead to the day's tasks. Instead, I'm thinking about summer-blue eyes and the way my name sounded on Lacy Reeves' lips.

Next week can't come soon enough.

two

. . .

Lacy

The clock on the wall ticks relentlessly as I arrange the construction paper and safety scissors on each small desk. Six-year-olds love cutting and pasting, and today's lesson on animal habitats should keep them engaged right up until the bell rings. I smooth down my floral dress and take a deep breath. Monday mornings are always a challenge after the weekend break, but there's something about this particular Monday that has my stomach in knots.

It's not the parent-teacher conferences scheduled for next week. I've done dozens of those in my four years of teaching first grade at Oakridge Elementary. It's the thought of one specific parent that has me checking my reflection in the small mirror I keep in my desk drawer.

Colby Reynolds. Single dad. Tattoos. Arms that look like they could lift a truck. And eyes that crinkle at the corners when he smiles at his daughter.

"Miss Bennett, I made this for you!"

I turn to see Susie Reynolds bouncing toward me, her dark curls swinging with each step. She holds up a slightly crumpled drawing of what appears to be a cat with rainbow stripes.

"It's beautiful, Susie," I say, accepting the masterpiece. "Is this your cat at home?"

She giggles, revealing a new gap where her front tooth used to be. "No, silly! It's the cat I want Daddy to get me for my birthday. I'm gonna be seven!"

"Well, that's a very special birthday," I tell her, tacking the drawing to our "Artist of the Day" board. "Do you think your dad will get you a rainbow cat?"

"Daddy says real cats don't come in rainbow colors, but maybe he'll get me a regular one." She shrugs with the pragmatism only children possess. "He says he'll think about it, which Daddy language for 'probably yes but don't tell anyone I said so.'"

I laugh, my heart warming at this glimpse into their relationship. In the three months since school started, I've observed enough to know that Colby Reynolds is devoted to his daughter. Single parenting isn't easy—I've seen enough struggling families to recognize the ones that are thriving despite the challenges. The Reynolds are definitely thriving.

"Okay, everyone, find your seats!" I clap my hands as the classroom fills with energetic first-graders. "Let's start our morning meeting!"

Twenty-two small bodies wiggle their way to the colorful carpet at the front of the room. I sit in my rocking chair—a splurge I justified as a teaching necessity—and pick up our morning greeting stick.

"Good morning, friends!" I beam at them.

"Good morning, Miss Bennett!" they chorus back, some enthusiastic, some still half-asleep.

The day unfolds in its familiar rhythm. We practice sight words, count by fives, and read a story about a frog who wants to fly. After lunch and recess, we begin our science lesson on habitats.

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