Page 59 of Make it Real
Apart from the furniture mess, I liked the changes. The new navy blue carpet dotted with rainbow stripes was soft underfoot—not plush, but not tired and gritty like the old carpet had been. I much preferred the light blue walls to the previous gray, and loved how the colors livened up the room. Soon, my students would love it, too.
“This is going to be good. We just need to deal with that.” I waved at the big pile of furniture as if it wouldn’t be an all-day ordeal.
“Tell me what to do, Captain. I’m at your service.”
My stomach dipped at that tempting offer. What would I do with Jed at my service? Nothing to do with my classroom, that’s for sure. Before I could get lost cataloguing enticing options, I shoved my thoughts in the direction of the task at hand.
We moved cabinets and arranged desks, trying to minimize moving things multiple times, but the way everything had been left jumbled together, we didn’t have a lot of choice. I thanked my lucky stars Jed had offered to help out, since the process would have taken three times as long if I’d been working on my own. He picked up desks like they weighed nothing while I struggled with mine in one-foot bursts across the room.
As usual, I talked while we worked. Mostly, I shared my excitement for the next school year and what it might hold. I wouldn’t receive a class roster until a couple of days before summer ended, but it didn’t really matter. It’d be a good class.
“I can’t wait for Meet The Teacher night. The kids will absolutely light up when they walk around this classroom for the first time. Okay, not every kid—there’s always one or two who are really shy or don’t like school yet. But I love seeing that look of wonder when they explore the room and start imagining how the year will go.”
“Just like you’re doing now.” He grinned at me, arranging desks into clusters of three or four.
“I can’t help it, it’s exciting. It’s the same when I buy supplies. I love stocking up on markers, pencils, and construction paper.”
“You have to buy your own supplies?”
I put empty storage bins in one of the cabinets, trying to get it more or less the way I’d had it last year. “Every student gets a list of supplies to bring for class, but it’s a lot of stuff. Not every family can afford all of that. So I usually buy a bunch of things to have on hand if we need it.”
“Does that work out to be a lot?”
I shrugged. “It’s better than kids not having what they need.”
We teamed up to put my desk where I liked it, each of us taking an end. A corner set-up worked best in this room and proved the least distracting for the class, but of course, the desk had been left on the opposite end of the room.
“I don’t imagine you sit behind this desk very much, do you?” he said when we got it in place. “I bet you’re out here with the kids, on the floor mixing it up with them. You probably get into the crayons and paints, too.”
My mouth dropped open to defend myself until I saw the way he watched me. His usual playfulness lit his eyes, but affection warmed them, too. Anybody else, and I might have thought they were making fun of me, pointing out how I got down on my knees to help kids with their crayon drawings daily. More than one of my set-up dates had made light of what I did, insinuating my job made me nothing more than a babysitter.
But Jed had never been like that, and shame swirled around in my stomach that I’d forgotten it even for a second.
“I don’t sit at my desk much during class time, no.”
“I like that. I’ve got a feeling you make learning fun for them.”
“That’s the goal.”
He stepped closer to me. “Only one thing I would change to make it their best year ever.”
My eyebrows lifted. “You’re going to give me teaching tips?”
“It’s a pretty important one, but I’ll share it with you.” He looked around as if searching for listening ears. “As long as you keep it to yourself.”
“What’s that?”
His grin tipped up. “Meet the Farmer day.”
I snort-laughed. This man. “I’ll be sure not to skip it this year.”
He stepped even closer. “But you have to ask the right one. Can’t be just any farmer. Has to be a special one.”
I tilted my head back, smiling up at him like a fool. “I know a pretty special one.”
“Yeah?”
Good gracious, his smiles were like fireworks going off, pops and fizzes hitting me straight in the heart. “He’s a peach farmer.”
