Twins for the Teacher

Alli hadn’t been as impressed. She’d assessed the hotel and their oversize suite with her quiet reserve before shrugging and saying, “It’s okay.”

Hank wanted to wake his daughter up, shake her out of the doldrums she’d mired herself in since they’d moved to Missouri a week earlier. His kids might have similar features—blond hair and blue eyes—but they were worlds apart.

Hank finished the form and stood. It felt great to stretch his legs. Seeing he was ready, the secretary came over and thumbed through the stack of papers. “It looks like everything’s in order,” she said.

“So they can start Monday?” he asked. He’d used the resort’s child-care services this week. He’d wanted to have the kids with him immediately on his relocation, but he still had to go to work.

“I don’t see why not,” she said. “Let me get you a school-supply list and…”

A woman walked into the office then, a teacher, Hank surmised, since the building had been locked for security purposes when they’d arrived and they’d had to be buzzed in.

She appeared to be in her thirties, a decade he’d left behind when he’d turned forty a few years ago. He was the class of 1982, Kickapoo High School, Springfield, Missouri. He’d been on the tennis team and student council with famous alumnus Brad Pitt.

The teacher stepped behind the counter and gave him a big smile, one she also directed toward his kids. “Hi,” she said, tossing her long reddish-brown hair over her shoulders.

Hank automatically smiled back. Not only did she seem nice, but she was also very attractive. Something long dormant inside him flickered to life as he shook her hand. It was attraction, he realized with a start. If only he had time for such things, he might be tempted to flirt with her a little.

“Ah, Ms. Tomlinson, you’ll probably be having one of these two. This is—” the secretary checked her paperwork “—Ethan and Alli Friesen. They’re twins entering the fourth grade.”

“Then one of you will be in my class,” Ms. Tomlinson said with another radiant smile that Hank couldn’t help but find fascinating. His fourth-grade teacher had been Mrs. Lemongrass. She’d been at least sixty. He had the urge to be a fourth grader again—but only if he could be in Ms. Tomlinson’s class.

Ethan stopped kicking his feet and stood. “I’m the oldest.”

Ms. Tomlinson’s soft green eyes sparkled with amusement. “You must be Ethan. Nice to meet you. And this is your sister—”

“Alli,” Hank filled in. His daughter had stood up, but social awkwardness had kept her from opening her mouth.

Ms. Tomlinson didn’t seem to mind Alli’s silence. “I’m glad you’re here, Alli,” she said warmly. “Welcome to Nolter Elementary. If you aren’t in my class, you’ll have Mrs. Hillhouse. We all call her Mrs. H.”

Ms. Tomlinson reached out her hand, which was long and slender. As she waited for him to offer her his hand, she stared him in the eye, meaning she was just about as tall as he was. Few women were, and Hank was impressed by how well she carried herself. She was slim but toned, and looked as if she ran every day. “I’m Jolie Tomlinson,” she said.

“Hank Friesen. I’m the new resort manager for the Nolter. We just relocated from Chicago.”

He took her hand, appreciating the firm grip. He might be older, but he had the sudden impression she was wiser, that this was her area of expertise, like hotels were his. He felt better about his decision to enroll his children in a public school. He wanted them to be out in the real world, socializing with other children, as he had been at their age.

Now that he was back in southwestern Missouri, about sixty miles south of where he’d grown up and where his parents still lived, he wanted normalcy for his kids. At least as normal as you could get, living on-site at a top-notch destination hotel on the shores of Table Rock Lake.

“Well, welcome Hank, and Ethan and Alli. I’m looking forward to working with you. My class is at art right now, so I’m on my plan time. Has anyone given you a tour?”

“We haven’t seen anything but this office,” Ethan inserted before his father could reply.

“That’s because Mrs. Johnson, our counselor, is out of the building today at some very long and drab state meeting, as is our principal, Mrs. Jones. I hate meetings,” Jolie said with a disgusted expression Hank assumed was for Ethan’s benefit.

“Me, too,” Ethan agreed, although he could have no idea what a meeting was like, having never been to one. Hank, however, had no less than three a day.

Jolie glanced at the clock on the wall. “I have ten minutes, so if we make this quick I can take you.”

She handed the secretary a single sheet of paper. “Will you make me twenty-four copies of this before we get back?”

“Not a problem,” the secretary said, and Hank wondered if she’d agreed so readily because she was glad everyone was leaving her alone.

“So you’re from Chicago?” Jolie asked as she opened the office door and led them out into the hall. Nolter Elementary was a single-story building designed in the shape of an E.

“Dad’s originally from Springfield,” Ethan said. “But we’ve lived in Chicago all my life. I’m not sure if I’m going to like Missouri.”

“I’ve lived in Missouri my whole life and like it fine,” Jolie reassured the boy.

“I live in a hotel now,” Ethan added.

“We had a house in Chicago, but we’re currently living at the Nolter,” Hank explained. “I want the kids to settle in before doing any house-hunting.”

“I’ve been to Chicago twice,” Jolie said, showing them the main corridor, onto which the library and the art and music rooms opened. “It’s a great city.”

“Dad worked at the hotel right by American Girl Place,” Alli offered. Her speaking startled Hank. He ruffled his daughter’s blond hair, so like her mother’s. Hank himself had a full head of dark hair.

Jolie showed them the cafeteria next. “Lunch is two dollars and you can set up an account that we automatically debit. Or kids can bring lunch from home. So, Alli, do you have any American Girl dolls?”

“I have Kristen, Felicity and one made to look like me,” she said.

“I always liked Kit. That’s the one I have,” Jolie said, and Hank was impressed by her ability to make such an immediate connection with his shy daughter.

“I’ve read a book about Kit,” Alli said.

“Good. We have many of the American Girl books in the library here. So—you like to read.”

“I know I do. Goosebumps are the best!” Ethan shouted as Jolie opened a door. Hank noticed that Alli fell silent the moment her brother spoke and overshadowed her. Hank made a mental note to do something about that.

“This is my classroom,” Jolie said, stepping to the side and letting them enter.

Hank hadn’t been in an elementary school since he’d been a student, well over thirty years ago. Things had changed a lot since his time. A white marker board replaced the old green or black chalkboards he was familiar with. A SMART Board currently displayed a math equation. While the SMART Board screen was about the size of the old classroom pull-down movie screens Hank remembered, that’s where the similarity ended. Using an LCD projector hooked up to the teacher’s computer, the SMART Board became an interactive display. Each student desk had a handheld computer and a clicker, both of which could interact with the board.

“I wrote a grant for the handhelds,” Ms. Tomlinson said. “Both fourth-grade classrooms have them. We even have wireless Internet on them. The clickers are for pop quizzes. They make the classroom like a game show. The children press in their responses to questions and the results come up on the SMART Board.”

“Wow,” Ethan breathed. “This is better than Grandmother’s boring workbooks.”

“They’ve been homeschooled until now,” Hank explained.

“Missouri has quite a few students who are homeschooled. It’s not uncommon, especially in this area. I’m sure they’ll settle into public school with few difficulties,” Jolie said.

Hank nodded as he watched his children explore their new environment. Alli was checking out the reading corner, which had carpet and beanbag chairs.

Jolie’s next words caught everyone’s attention. “Well, I need to go get my class from the art room, so that’ll have to end our tour for today. Let me take you back to the office.”

When they reached the office, she picked up the copies that were waiting on the counter and extended her hand again to shake Hank’s. “It was nice to meet you.” She pivoted slightly to address the children. “I’ll see you two on Monday.”

“Thank you for the tour,” Alli said politely.

“Yeah, thanks,” Ethan chimed in, belatedly remembering his manners.