Page 25 of Besties
“So, yes. You’re the only person I can think of for the job.”
“Okay. I promise I won’t let you down.”
He chuckled. “You never have, which is why you’re the only guy I can see doing this. You know how important education is to me. I wouldn’t trust just anyone with it.”
Once more I found myself being humbled by his words. And also realizing what a funk I’d been in. I guess years of hearing from someone you weren’t good enough tended to leave a mark.
“Now, when we land in Boston, the company will have a car there to pick us up. We’ll go to the office for a few hours, and I’ll show you around. Tomorrow morning there’s a meeting with the managers, at which time I’ll introduce you to them. After, you’ll get to meet the people who’ll be working under you.”
I swallowed hard. “Okay.”
“And then the fun begins. You’re going to be training with Rebecca Mansky. She’s a tough, no-nonsense woman who did the teaching thing for forty years before retiring. And the thing is? She worked with little kids, who she kept in line with a loving, but firm, nature. She’ll get you set up right.”
“You’re not training me?” I bit back the panic that swelled in my chest.
“I do have a company to run, you know.” He snickered. “I’ll be around, though. Trust me, everything is going to be fine.”
Trust him. I’d always trusted him in everything and he never steered me wrong.
“Okay.”
“Now, after your training, you’ll be able to head home and work from there. Occasionally you might be asked to come here, but that should be rare. Most things can be handled over Skype. And so you know, you—”
Our flight was called, so Richie got up and grabbed his carry-on bag.
“You ready? This is a big step, but you’re going to be great.”
His words instilled me with a confidence I hadn’t known in a long time. I rose from the chair, picked up my own satchel, then linked arms with him.
“What are we waiting for. Let’s go start my new life.”
Chapter7
“No.You’re doing it wrong. Try again.”
I suppressed my growl. We’d been at it for two hours, and I was no closer to understanding this crap than I had been when Rebecca told me to sit at the computer.
“How is this supposed to teach me anything?”
“Everyone who works here needs to understand the programs. They may never be asked questions, but if we are, then we all need to be able to talk intelligently about it. Mr. Ryland insists that we keep up to date on everything that goes on around here.”
I stared at the screen, the numbers and letters jumbling in front of me. “You’re kidding, right? How the heck am I supposed to understand this… mess?”
Over my shoulder, Rebecca chuckled. “You’re doing the work of fifth graders learning algebra.”
I turned around and gave her my best scowl. “You’re not serious.”
“I wish. When I taught, this was considered junior high school level work. I always thought we’re pushing kids too far, too fast. But Mr. Ryland’s program interjects fun into the learning, making it easier to absorb.”
I sat back and crossed my arms over my chest petulantly. “I’m not seeing anything fun about this.”
That brought a genuine laugh. “I let you go at it until you got frustrated, because that’s what many kids feel like when they are trying to understand this when it’s taught in the standard way. One teaching method won’t work for all kids. That’s why Mr. Ryland created this.”
She reached around me, tapped a few keys on the screen, and it filled with colorful shapes, dancing to a catchy tune. The triangles did the tenor, the circles the bass, and the squares were the backup. As I watched, I found myself humming along, practically dancing in my chair.
“See? Fun.”
And it was. I began to pay attention to the way the shapes moved, which gave me insight into how things in the program fit together. I could see any child—or, in my case an adult—enjoying learning with this tool.
