Page 45 of A Class of Her Own

“I’m very aware.”

“I overheard students in the hall today saying how excited they were to sit on Santa’s lap and ask for a gift.” His tone was becoming less calm.

“I totally understand your frustration, and I take full responsibility for it,” I soothed.

He blinked slowly at me. “Yet I have no Santa, so what good does your acceptance of responsibility do me? You accept that you failed?”

I felt like a hot poker was being driven into my stomach. I hated failing. Deeply. “I did have an idea, actually, that came to me during lunch today.”

He raised his eyebrows and leaned back. “Okay.”

Now, I’m not suggesting here that what I said next was fully truthful. However, I have found that the occasional white lie to smooth things over isn’t a terrible idea. “I know how much the students here like you,” I began, watching as his mouth lifted at the corners. He unclenched his fingers and nodded. “Kids love time with the principal. For example, when you walk around the cafeteria and greet them at lunch or go outside at recess and shoot some basketball or hold the jump ropes—those kinds of things.”

Now he was nodding. “The students seem to enjoy that, yes.”

“So, what if you played Santa? What if you got to be the hero of the night? You know a lot of their names, which would make them feel special. The parents would get a kick out of seeing you dressed up, and I think it would bring an element of school spirit to the event.” That last part might have laid it on too thick, but I held my breath and didn’t say anything else.

He seemed to be recovering from the horror of my announcement and actually considering being Santa. “I don’t have a costume.”

“I’ll find one.”

“In three days?”

“Definitely.” I’d sew one myself if I had to.

I would sheer a stinking sheep, process the wool, figure out looming, and sew it with strands of my own hair.

“Alright. If you’ll provide a costume, I’ll be Santa.”

He actually smiled, pleased, ego stroked, and a wave of relief washed over me. Yes, I still had to find a costume, but at least there would be someone to put in it.

It was nearly dark by the time I left the school to make my way home. Snow had dumped once more, and it matched my mood. While Mr. Wall had agreed to be Santa and didn’t seem totally angry with me anymore, his initial annoyed words still rang in my ears. Sure, he had a valid reason to have been frustrated with me. Still, nothing he said about it could compare to the way I’d already berated myself. I didn’t do this type of thing. I didn’t let people down or not follow through with my duties. I was the woman who had the assignment finished far in advance. I did not leave things to chance. Procrastination gave me hives.

My hands were numb from using my coat sleeve to wipe snow off the windshield and having half of it go down into my coat. Dejection was my companion as I turned into my neighborhood. I didn’t want to deal with the cold or the ice that sometimes built up on my front porch or the fact that I’d had to work late after groveling and ego stroking in Mr. Wall’s office. This entire week had been a total bust.

I saw a male shape scattering handfuls of ice melt on my front porch steps as I turned into my driveway. I figured it was the snow removal people until I caught sight of the dark beard and realized it was Brooks. I watched for a moment, feeling mixed emotions about him doing a kindness for me. It wasn’t logical for him to be here. The HOA hired people to do this. If I was one to analyze my feelings more, I’d probably be forced to add a smidgen of guilt to the equation. I did not deserve this. I’d had zero contact with him since the skunk viewing party, and I’d kind of figured we’d go back to our respective corners.

But logic and guilt aside, it felt amazing to have someone think of me and to check up on me.

I parked my car in the garage and gathered my things before going out onto the driveway, my arms loaded with my lunchbox and laptop bag.

“What are you doing?” I asked when he neared.

His breath created a cloud between us when he spoke. “I’m trying to prevent you from suing the HOA because of a slip and fall injury.”

“Well, consider this my cease and desist letter,” I replied.

His eyes scraped over my face. “You’re asking me to cease and desist spreading ice melt?”

I bit my lips together and nodded once. “Go do it for some person who can’t do it themselves.”

“All the homebound are taken care of. Now I’m working down the list of . . .”

“If you say single women, I’ll kick your shins,” I growled, offended for capable women everywhere.

He closed his eyes for a moment and took a breath. When he opened them again, his expression was patient and maybe a little amused. “I was going to say, the list of people the snow company missed last time. I wanted to take inventory and make sure they’re getting everyone done. I brought ice melt for the north-facing houses to be safe.”

Logical. North-facing homes tended to get really icy walkways, and he was just double checking that the contract was being fulfilled. He didn’t have to look so happy about making me look ungrateful and rude though. Then again, I’d done that to myself. Again. Sigh.

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