Page 12 of Coach Me
“I get it.” Olsson shrugs. “Have you thought about homeschooling?”
Thought of it? It’s my only fucking option with the amount of traveling we do. The thought of finding someone to accommodate our schedule on top of that is also stressing me the fuck out.
I guess Olsson is right—it is starting to show. I get short-tempered with the guys easier than I used to, and I’m practically taking advantage of our team photographer and doubling her as my onsite nanny. Callie’s been a saint through this whole process, but at this point, I should be adding to her salary.
“It’s my only real option, honestly. The main issue is that I can’t find anyone who wants to be both the nanny and the teacher. I’ve had countless applications come through from obvious cleat chasers. I can’t even begin to tell you the amount of ‘because I loved watching you play baseball’ and ‘I’ve always wanted to be a step-mom’ that have been written as qualifications. Besides those immediate toss-outs, the most qualified homeschool teachers declined the offer as soon as they saw our schedule.”
Olsson laughs at my misery. “It’s not for everyone. It’ll work out, Dex. You’ve got the summer to figure things out. In the meantime, you can still bring Miles everywhere we go.” Olsson crosses his ankle over his knee and flips open one of his sports magazines. “But I’d also say you owe Callie some of those teas that Will is always getting delivered for her. I know she loves helping, but you’re getting free labor out of my photographer.”
All I can manage is a nod before Olsson looks down to read whatever article he opened up to. With a sigh, I turnback to Miles and watch as he smiles and giggles at the grown man in suspenders dancing in front of an airplane.
I don’t shove screens in his face often, but sometimes it’s necessary. Especially when Miles’s second home is about to be this fucking plane. There’s only so much to do in the air, I suppose.
Looking at my son, he’s thoroughly entranced so I do my best to relax and pull myself out of this bad mood. I hadn’t really thought about being a dad and now a single dad. I just feel like I’m fucking everything up.
Chapter 4
Lucie
I’m what?!
“We’re so sorry to have to do this, Miss Anderson. You’ve been an amazing educator this past year, but unfortunately, due to budget cuts…we’re going to have to let you go.”
Let go—aka fired. Jobless. Not good enough for them to find extra room in the budget for. This is absolute bull.
I stare back at Mrs. Riggets. She seems as though she hates doing this as much as I hate hearing it. Figures our jerk of a superintendent isn’t here, I’m sure I was on the top of his list for these cuts. I make one small suggestion for how to make the pick-up line more effective and suddenly I’m “too good” for this school.
Swallowing down my emotions, I clear my throat. “Um, how many are getting cut?”
Mrs. Riggets looks down at her folded hands. “Just one.” She sighs. “You were the last hired, my dear. My hands are tied.”
Just one? Just me?
I can feel the tears pricking in my eyes. Oh my goodness, don’t you dare start crying. Everything will be fine.
“Again, I want to express my deepest regards. You truly are a great educator. You’ll have until the end of the week to get everything that belongs to you out of your classroom.” Mrs. Riggets extends a piece of paper. “A recommendation from me. I wish the best for you, Miss Anderson. I do hope it helps.”
I take the letter with shaky hands as I try to swallow down my emotions enough to speak. “I-I, um—thank you. I enjoyed working here, despite…” I trail off because there’s no point in dragging this on. I’ve officially been canned from my first job. After all this money my brother spent on my education—for what? Fired. Ugh, I’ve never been one to curse, but this might make me start.
Walking out of the office, I feel a total of five inches tall. Someone please just come out and crush me—finish the freaking job.
My hands tremble the entire walk to my classroom. The strength to even open the door feels lost to me. Fired. What is up with this week? First, my sister is leaving me and now I’ve been fired from the job I wholeheartedly loved.
When I step into my…soon-to-be former classroom, Reagan’s spinning around slowly in my desk chair.
“Hey, whose phone number is written on your—” Reagan starts, but stops as she turns to me. “Luce, what happened? You’re white as a sheet.”
“I…I—” God, I can’t even say it out loud. Voicing it makes it feel too real, but then voicing it to my successful florist of a sister who runs her business like it’s child’s play—the word that comes to mind isn’t fired, it’s failure.
“Okay, Lucie, you’re scaring me. What happened?”My sister takes me by my shoulders and forces me to sit in one of the child-sized computer chairs. “You know you can tell me anything.”
“I just got fired.” The words tumble out first, and the tears quickly follow. “They said due to budget cuts they have to let me go.”
I try to pull back my emotions as quickly as I can, but I feel so defeated.
“Oh, Luce,” my sister coos as she runs her hands up and down my arms. “I’m so sorry. I know how much this job meant to you.”
“It meant everything to me, Rea.” I push up from my chair, wiping my hands repeatedly on my cheeks. Being a teacher is my passion. The one clear thing I know about myself. I love these kids. I love watching them learn new things and watching their confidence grow with the things that I can teach them.
