Page 12 of Grinchland
Maria sighed. “I’m going to stay out of it. All I ask is that you don’t rope the school into anything.”
“Sure,” I lied. I didn’t have any immediate plans to involve them, but I liked to keep my options open. I was going to have to pull out my big guns to fix this one. My eyes widened as a hush fell over me. It was like I was Rudolph. Christmas this year depended on me.
“Let’s go meet your class,” Maria said as she moved to stand.
I nodded, plans still rolling around in my head as she led me through the office and down the depressing and barren hallway. The walls weren’t decorated with paper Christmas trees and finger-painted ornaments. There were no paper snowflakes hanging from the ceiling with countdown paper chains strung between them.
“What do the kids here even count down to?” I whispered under my breath.
If Maria heard me, she didn’t respond. She stopped in front of a very plain door with a small window to the right. “Ready to meet your class?” she asked.
A spark of excitement mixed with nerves lit in my stomach. I loved and missed teaching, and it was always an emotional roller coaster to start somewhere new. I took a deep breath and then slowly blew it out. I was ready for some normalcy. My first impression of Grinchland had been so strange. I was ready to fall back on what I knew—teaching.
I gave her a big smile. “You betcha.”
Maria pulled open the door, and I could hear the normal five-year-old chatter from where I stood. Nerves turned to excitement as she led me into the room. The voices quickly hushed as we stood in the center next to the whiteboard, facing the kids. Curious eyes peered up at us.
“Thank you, Mr. O’Brien,” Maria said, and the man sitting behind the desk nodded and stood. He gave me a quick smile as he walked past, and once he was out in the hall, he shut the door behind him. I turned back to the kids as Maria took a step away from me and waved her hand in my direction.
“This is Ms. Snow. She’s taking over for Mrs. Helen. She’s going to be your teacher for the next few months.”
I smiled as I swept my gaze around the room. Most of the kids didn’t seem phased. They looked bored and antsy. There was a little girl with braided pigtails and a blue polka dot shirt who was staring at me. She looked worried, so I offered an encouraging smile.
“Thanks, Mrs. Thompson. I’m so excited to be here and to be your substitute teacher.” I clapped my hands. “I know we’re going to have so much fun and I’m going to be able to tell Mrs. Helen”—I glanced over at Maria to make sure that I heard her right; she nodded—“what an amazing class she has and how welcoming you guys were to me.”
Maria’s smile was encouraging as she glanced at the class.
The flow was starting, and I could feel the excitement of being in a classroom surge through me. I could do this. I could do this and rock at it.
“Why don’t we go around the room and you can tell me your name and your favorite Christm—” I pinched my lips together to stop the words Christmas celebration from flowing out. My cheeks heated as I turned to Maria, whose eyes were wide as she stared at me.
This was going to be harder than I thought.
“What I meant to say was, your favorite color and why,” I said, hoping the kids hadn’t picked up on my blunder. “I’ll go first so you can see what I mean.” I cleared my throat and straightened. “Hi, I’m Ms. Snow and my favorite color is green. It’s my favorite because it’s the color of a Christm—” I pinched my lips together, halting the word.
What was wrong with me? I was going to leave Grinchland destitute if I couldn’t put a cap on my love of Christmas. It was in everything I did—everything I talked about. This was proof that Christmas was such a part of me that I didn’t know who I was without it.
All eyes were still on me, and I realized that I’d just stopped talking. So I offered them a wide smile and refocused. “It’s the color of grass,” I said, wincing at the reason. I loved green so much because everything Christmas started around the Christmas tree. The ornaments, the lights, the camaraderie that took place between the people decorating. If you didn’t have a Christmas tree, was it Christmas? That was why I loved the color. I hated the mayor for forbidding me from speaking those words.
Grinchland and Mayor St. Kill-joy could just jump in a frozen, winter lake.
Listening to the little kids stand up and say their name and then their favorite color helped alleviate my frustration. Some voices were small and shy while others were large and boisterous. The mixture of personalities was the same in every class, and Grinchland was no exception.
When it got to the little girl with braids, she twirled her hair around her finger as she stood. “Isabelle St. Nick, and my favorite color is pink.” She paused and I could tell that she was thinking hard. “Because I like bubble gum,” she said with a wide smile that emphasized her missing front tooth.
St. Nick? Was that the little girl I saw in the window last night? I glanced back at Maria. “The mayor’s daughter?” I mouthed.
She nodded. I stepped closer to her because I had questions. Isaac Parkes went on to introduce himself, but I was only half listening.
“That’s the mayor’s daughter?” I asked in a hushed voice while keeping my attention forward as Isaac sat down and the little girl with a dark bob cut stood.
“Yes,” Maria whispered as she nodded at Melanie, who finished explaining in detail why aquamarine was her favorite color.
“Her mom is fine with not celebrating Christmas?” There was a reason Scrooge was a man, not a woman. They were the sex most willing to cancel the holiday. Silas was proof of that theory.
Maria paused, and I looked over at her to see if I’d missed her explanation. She met my gaze before turning it back to the kids.
“Her mom passed away three years ago when Isabelle was two.” She nodded. “Thank you, Trudy. Orange is such a pretty color.”
