Page 6 of Turn My Crank

Susie giggles, nudging me with her elbow. "Daddy's joking. He says nature is the best teacher."

"Your daddy's right about that," Lacy says, and the warmth in her voice makes me look up at her. There's something in her expression that I can't quite read, but it makes heat crawl up the back of my neck.

"Susie," she continues, "why don't you go show Mrs. Wilkins how you made the river? She was asking about your technique earlier."

Susie nods importantly and skips off to the teacher's aide across the room. As soon as she's out of earshot, Lacy turns to me.

"I have to tell you, Susie is one of the brightest students I've had in years. Her vocabulary is advanced for her age, and she approaches problem-solving with such creativity." She smiles. "You're doing an excellent job with her."

The compliment catches me off guard. I'm not used to praise for my parenting – mostly I just hope I'm not screwing up too badly. "Thanks. It's just been the two of us since day one, so I'm kind of making it up as I go."

Lacy's expression softens. "She mentioned that her mom isn't around, but she didn't elaborate. I hope you don't mind me asking, but..."

"She died," I say quietly, the familiar weight of those words settling on my chest. "Complications during childbirth. Amniotic fluid embolism. It happened so fast the doctors couldn't save her."

"I'm so sorry," Lacy says, and unlike when most people say it, she sounds like she means it. "That must have been devastating."

I nod, watching Susie across the room as she animatedly explains something to the aide. "It was. For a long time. Sara and I weren't actually together – we were friends who occasionally crossed that line. The pregnancy was unplanned, but we were going to co-parent." I pause, not sure why I'm telling her all this. "Sometimes I still feel that ache, you know? Not just for me, but thinking about everything Sara's missed. Susie's first steps, first words, all of it."

Lacy's hand touches my arm lightly. "She seems like a very happy child. That says a lot about you."

Our eyes meet, and for a moment, I forget we're standing in an elementary school classroom surrounded by shoebox habitats. There's a softness in her gaze that makes me want to step closer, to see if those lips are as soft as they look.

The moment breaks when Susie comes bounding back, launching into an explanation about how she used three different shades of blue to make the water look like it was flowing. I listen, nodding at appropriate intervals, but I'm hyperaware of Lacy standing beside me, our arms occasionally brushing.

As parents begin filtering out and kids start collecting their projects, Lacy kneels down to Susie's level. "Would you like to leave your habitat here overnight? We can put it on display inthe main hallway tomorrow, and then you can take it home after school."

Susie nods enthusiastically. "Can everyone in the school see it?"

"Absolutely," Lacy promises. "It's one of the best habitats I've seen in years of teaching."

Susie beams, and I can't help but smile at her obvious pride. After saying goodbye to her friends, we head out to the parking lot with Lacy walking alongside us, carrying a tote bag and her purse.

"Thanks again for making time for this," she says as we reach the exit. "I know how busy work schedules can be."

"Perks of being a mechanic – I make my own hours," I say. "Mostly, anyway."

In the parking lot, Susie races ahead to our truck while Lacy walks toward an older Honda Civic. I'm about to call out a final goodbye when I see her insert her key into the ignition, turn it, and get nothing but a clicking sound. She tries again with the same result.

"Shit," I mutter under my breath, then glance back to make sure Susie didn't hear me. "Hey, Sunshine, wait by the truck a minute. I'm going to help Ms. Reeves."

I jog over to Lacy's car just as she's getting out, frustration evident on her face.

"Car trouble?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

She blows out a breath, pushing her hair behind her ear. "It was fine this morning. I don't understand what?—"

"Mind if I take a look?" I'm already moving toward the hood. "Sounded like your starter, but let me check to be sure."

Lacy steps back, gesturing toward the car with a sweeping motion. "Be my guest. I know exactly nothing about cars except that this one chooses the most inconvenient times to misbehave."

I pop the hood and check the battery terminals first – they seem clean and tight. "Try it again?" I call out.

She slides back into the driver's seat and turns the key. Same clicking sound. Definitely the starter.

"Good news is, I can fix this," I say, closing the hood. "Bad news is, not here in the school parking lot. You're going to need a tow."

She leans against the car door, a look of defeat crossing her face. "Fantastic. Just what I needed today."

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