Page 13 of Delay of Game
Mila smiled and marched out the door, following the directions with her hands splayed out in front of her.
“The hand that makes an L is the left,” she muttered under her breath as she led us.
I craned my head down the hallways as we passed, wondering how nearly two hundred kindergarteners would navigate this maze on the first day without massive meltdowns.
“Oh! Ms. Evans!” Mila’s shout drew my attention from the science lab.
Ms. Evans stood in the hallway with a passel of children and adults in tow. “Mila! Mr. Grant. I’m so glad you could make it. You’re just in time for a tour of the school.”
Her eyes dipped when they met mine, a faint blush on her cheeks. I couldn’t tell whether it’d been there before.
“Come on, Mila.” I nudged her shoulder and moved us to the back of the line.
Mila’s teacher walked us through each of the six wings: one for each grade level and the last for other classrooms: speech therapy, library, science lab, and other programs. Effortlessly, she kept a gentle patter of conversation, stopping at intervals to ask a kid which way the bathroom was or if they could remember the way to the cafeteria. She handed out bingo cards with pictures of different rooms and paired the students, urging them to check off each classroom they found.
Mila beelined toward a little boy in a cowboy outfit. Connor, his mother, Susan, told me as she slid in beside me. Connor had two older brothers and one younger sister. His father worked as the branch manager at a bank downtown. His mother quit her nursing job when her second oldest son was born because it cost more than her salary to put them in daycare. She was also a big Breakers fan and head of the PTA and hoped I’d join.
I had less than no interest in joining the PTA.
“Now, we’re going to leave the parents in the cafeteria so they can speak to the principal,” Ms. Evans announced over the hum of conversation, saving me from more of Connor’s mom’s life story. “And how about…Mila leads us back to the gym so you can meet Mr. Ryder, the gym teacher. We’ll see all the parents soon!”
The kids waved goodbye to the parents as Mila lead them back down the hallway. Connor’s mom threaded her hand through my arm. “I wonder if this is about the buses. My kids don’t take the bus. I drop them off. Once Gunnar is in middle school, I might let him take the bus…”
No. This wouldn’t work. I could handle a polite nod at the start of the gymnastics class, but near-constant conversation with pushy PTA parents? Not for me. Maybe it wasn’t too late toconvince Mom to homeschool Mila. She didn’t need friends that badly.
“Mr. Grant?” I straightened at the sound of Ms. Evans’ voice. She ducked her head into the cafeteria, surprising Connor’s mom into temporary silence. “Do you mind coming with me back to the classroom? I seem to have misplaced some paperwork.”
I stood, hurrying away from Mrs. PTO without a second glance. The tension in my shoulders lessened with each step. “What’d I forget to do?” I asked as she led me into the hallway.
She looked me up and down, the edge of her lips hitching up and her eyes lighting up. “Did you know that Mrs. Barker is head of the PTA?”
I groaned, shoulders inching up. “Yeah. She mentioned.”
“She’s a bit of a talker.”
“I noticed that too,” I said, my eyes wandering down the hallway toward the classroom.
She stayed glued to the hallway with a bemused expression. “You’re welcome.”
My gaze darted back. “Welcome?”
“For saving you. She would have talked your ear off for the next hour, and Mrs. Lennox, the principal, would have let her. Mrs. Barker raised over thirty thousand dollars last year for the school.”
“So, she’s just allowed to verbally kidnap other parents?”
“Verbally kidnap?” She snorted softly, shaking her head. “I like that. And yes.”
“I’m willing to write a check right now if you can guarantee I’ll never end up sitting next to that woman again.” I shook my head, annoyance mixing with amusement.
“A personal check?” Her grin turned into a full smile that took my breath away. “I’m tempted, but that’s a big ask. So I’ll give you this one for free.”
“What about the kids?” I asked.
She waved a hand at me as she led me back to the classroom. “They’re meeting the other teachers: gym, language, arts. They’ll be busy for another half hour before someone will bring them back to the classroom. You can hang out in here, if you want.”
“Am I going to miss anything important?” I asked.
She bit back a smile. “Even if you did, you wouldn’t have heard it over Mrs. Barker, anyway. But no. It’s all the same stuff I put in the parent packets.”
