Page 26 of Class Act

“What does that mean?”

“It means that a lot of kids have something they’re into for a short amount of time before they move on. Hillary will move on from me soon enough. You don’t need to worry.”

“You’re assuming I’m worried in the first place.”

Had the man not just finished saying he’d tried to talk her out of inviting me? It may not have been worry, but at the very least it was discomfort with me being around. More proof that he’d meant those harsh words in the cafeteria. He was not interested.

I bit my lip and did a round of deep breathing through my nose, wanting to tell him that he should be worried because people were trying to match us up and he’d straight up told me he wasn’t getting remarried. This was a . . . no . . . time to engage my thinking brain rather than my caveman brain. Time to take a pause.

“This is the second time you’ve done that breathing routine around me,” he interrupted my healing thought process.

I did another deep breathing cycle before saying, “It helps.”

His eyes crinkled up, but he graciously moved on. “So, you were saying something about being a blip?”

I slipped into teacher mode, a place I felt a little more in control. “I’m simply saying that children her age tend to find something interesting for short bursts of time. Right now, I’m that something. I’m a novelty, and I’ll wear off. In the meantime, I’m doing my best to leave her with happy memories and help her feel loved.”

“So, you’re temporary.”

“I’ll be out of your life soon.” I glanced at him with a wicked little smile that I didn’t even know I was capable of. “And then, you can enjoy these things with the wonderful Mrs. Slater.”

He laughed. He actually laughed. The sound of it was so carefree that I immediately understood his popularity. His gray eyes crinkled up and his teeth flashed white with pure enjoyment. I felt that sound down to the soles of my feet, and it made me feel restless and unsure. I didn’t want to like the sound of his laughter. I didn’t want to like how he looked with his face open and happy like that. I didn’t want to think up ways I could make it happen again.

I faced forward and was beyond thrilled when the stage curtains opened and a woman dressed in a sparkling black dress walked out to call us to order and welcome everyone. I clapped much louder than necessary, something Ford seemed to find humorous. She spoke for a few minutes, thanking people and applauding the dancers for their hard work. During her talk I relaxed each muscle in my body and settled my mind until I was in a good place, ready to cheerfully take in the performances and support my very young friend.

“Mrs. Slater is old, you know,” Ford said, leaning to whisper in my ear, his shoulder brushing against me again. “I don’t see Hillary picking her as a new friend.”

And, sadly, I missed the entire first number trying to calm the goosebumps that had risen when I felt his warm breath on my neck.

*****

“You did such a great job!” I cheered as Hillary found me in the foyer after the recital was over.

Families had left the auditorium to congregate in the larger space, greeting each other and taking pictures. It was a festive spirit, but I was still tied up in knots over the way I could sense Ford standing slightly behind me. He was taller than me by at least half a foot, and it didn’t escape my traitorous mind that I could tuck myself in against him. I was completely uncomfortable with my state of mind around him, and the odd feelings that he gave rise to. All my mental preparation had been thrown to the wind after sitting with his shoulder lightly touching mine for the past hour. It had been a lot, and I wanted to jet.

“Did you see how I got to be in front for part of it?” she asked, joy radiating from her small face.

“I did. You were beautiful.” I handed the flowers to her. “Even more beautiful than these flowers I brought for you.”

Her eyes grew large, and her mouth grew to match. “I’ve never had flowers before,” she said.

I glanced over my shoulder at Ford who had moved closer to hear the conversation over the commotion. “Are you new to this dance thing?” I asked in a hushed tone. He nodded. “Flowers are tradition. You need to bring her some for each recital.”

He nodded again before moving around me to bend down and kiss Hillary’s cheek. “You were perfect,” he said, and she giggled. “Miss Thomas is right, you did a great job.”

“Thanks,” she giggled. “Did Henry watch?”

Henry, who had been leaning against a pillar playing with a handheld gaming device glanced up when he heard his name. “You did good,” he said.

Hillary beamed. “Thanks.” She turned back to her dad. “Where are we going to dinner, and can Miss Hailey come?”

Oh, so she’d dropped the Thomas and was calling me by my first name. I scrambled to answer, needing to keep some boundaries in place. Public recital = okay. Private family dinner = not okay. Not even my daydreams had landed me in the family storyline. I knew it was a danger zone.

“I’m sorry, but I have other plans,” I said kindly.

Ford backed me up by saying, “Miss Thomas is busy. It was so nice of her to take time to come tonight.”

Hillary’s face fell a little, but she did her best to keep her voice bright. “Okay. Thanks for coming,” she said to me.

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