Page 10 of Grinchland
Todd paused. “You want me to write you a citation?”
I sighed. “You’ll see when you get there.”
Thankfully, there was a parking spot available right in front of the school, so I took advantage of it. Isabelle climbed out of her seat as I slammed my door. I rounded the truck and waited for her to grab my hand, and then we hurried across to the sidewalk.
Isabelle promptly dropped my hand as soon as we were inside the front doors. I followed behind her as she hurried down the hall to her classroom. Just as she neared the doors, she stopped and turned.
“Thanks, Daddy. You can go now,” she said as she reached up to tug her backpack from my shoulder.
“Don’t you want me to walk you inside?” I asked as I turned so she could get a good hold of her backpack, which I then let slide off my shoulder.
“No. I can do it myself.” She walked over to her locker and opened the door. Once her coat was off and her backpack hung, she slammed the door. “No one else’s parents walk them to the classroom. Only you.”
The way she said you had me raising my eyebrows. If she picked up on my reaction, she didn’t acknowledge it. Instead she threw her arms around my waist and squeezed. Just as I moved in to return the hug, she let go and headed to her classroom door.
“Bye, daddy,” she called over her shoulder as she disappeared.
Now alone, I stared at the space she’d occupied just moments ago. Part of me wanted to walk in and demand that she let me drop her off. The other part of me—the part that won out—was happy she was becoming such a strong, independent girl. After Nicole died, I was worried that Isabelle would remember what happened. I worried that flashbacks would suddenly surface and she’d have to face the worst night of our little family’s life all over again.
There was so much I wished I could change about that night—but I couldn’t. I worried that I coddled her too much. That she would suffocate under my wing. But then I’d see her like this. Strong and independent. And it would only solidify that what I was doing was right.
There was nothing I wouldn’t do to protect my little girl.
I sighed and turned, my fingers brushing her locker as I walked by. Just as I neared the office, I stopped. Normally, I would just wave to Pamela, the receptionist, as I walked past. But the sight of Clara had my entire body going numb.
That’s right. She was here in Grinchland as a substitute teacher. How could I have forgotten?
There was no way I could just walk past and not say something. Especially to Maria. Clara may not care about the laws in Grinchland, but the principal was required to uphold them.
I could feel Clara’s glare on me as I pulled open the office door and walked inside.
“Morning, Mayor,” Pamela said her normal greeting to me.
“Morning, Pamela.”
Clara scoffed. “Of course you’re the mayor,” she muttered.
I chose to be the bigger person and ignore her. “Maria available?” I asked as I made my way to her shut office door. I didn’t wait for Pamela’s response. As I entered, Maria looked startled before she quickly told whomever she was on the phone with that she’d have to call them back.
I closed her door behind me and then dropped onto the armchair across from her desk. I paused and steepled my fingers before I said, “Let’s make sure we understand the rules, one more time.”
SIX
CLARA
I could count on one hand—really one finger—the number of people I hated. Like, truly, deep-in-my-gut hated. Silas St. Nick was on track to bump that person from my list and become the only person I hated. I’d only known the man for less than twenty-four hours, and I loathed him.
And the fact that he was the mayor… “The mayor?” I whispered under my breath, still trying to process that new tidbit.
Pamela must have heard my question because she turned her attention to me. She asked, “Have you met Silas?”
I forced a smile and nodded. “Yes, I have met Silas. In fact, I’m his neighbor.”
Pamela’s face was deadpan as her gaze flicked down to the Christmas sweater I’d chosen to wear today.
In terms of Christmas sweaters, this one was understated. I even paired it with my green slacks as a sort of muted accessory. I had much more ostentatious outfits. Now that I’d seen Silas twice this morning, I wished I’d gone with one of them. It would have made my morning to see his eyes bug out ever so slightly over a Christmas dress.
Geez, that man needed to get a life if he let a little red and green bother him that much.
