Twins for the Teacher

“Yep.”

“I don’t envy you. His sister is a dream. Be sure to tell their dad that. Maybe it’ll soften the blow.”

“Of what, telling him that Ethan…” Jolie stopped herself from saying aloud that Ethan was a monster. He really wasn’t a bad kid, and she wasn’t the type of teacher who gave up on anyone. But in four days, Ethan Friesen had so tried her patience she’d reached her tolerance limit.

Not that he was a horrible kid. Just misguided. He wasn’t accustomed to the formal structure of school. He didn’t see the reason for rules and pushed the envelope at every opportunity. Even Carrie, who taught history to both classes of fourth graders, was having difficulty keeping him under control. He liked to speak out, get up, wander around and he refused to comply with simple requests.

“It’s probably just because he’s used to being with his grandmother and not in a regular school environment. I’m going to request their Dad come in for a conference tomorrow afternoon if possible. Can you make it if it’s right after school?”

Carrie thought for a second. “Yes. It would probably be best if we were both there.”

“Then I’ll let you know if I set it up.” Jolie reached for the card she kept on each student, and, as if on cue, Carrie left the room to give her some privacy. Jolie dialed the number.

“Graham Nolter Resort and Conference Center,” a bubbly voice answered. “How may I direct your call?”

“It’s Jolie Tomlinson from Nolter Elementary. Will you please connect me with Hank Friesen?”

“Is this an emergency?” the girl asked.

“No,” Jolie said, scanning the card for a cell-phone number or even an e-mail address.

“Please hold.”

Thirty seconds passed before a deep voice answered the phone. “This is Hank Friesen.”

Jolie had talked to a lot of parents, but for some reason she felt nervous with Hank on the other end of the line, and she was pretty sure it wasn’t all because of Ethan. She forced herself to take a deep breath. “Hi, Mr. Friesen, this is Jolie Tomlinson. Is there any way you could meet me after school tomorrow for a parent-teacher conference? Ethan’s off to a bit of a rough start and I’d like to be proactive and work with you on getting him settled in.”

“You mean settled down, don’t you?” She heard Hank sigh, as if he’d been expecting this to happen. “I know Ethan can be a handful. We’ve had babysitters who’ve refused to come back after spending one night caring for him. My mother-in-law had a handle on him, but she was, in my opinion, a little too indulgent.”

“That may be,” Jolie said, her tone sympathetic. No parent liked to hear that his child wasn’t an angel, and it made her job easier that Hank seemed to be taking the news pretty well. Some parents became argumentative and immediately blamed the teacher for their child’s problems.

Jolie relaxed her fingers. “I’m thinking that tomorrow afternoon we can come up with a plan that addresses Ethan’s behavior. I’d like to set up some rewards and consequences for both school and home.”

“And that will work?” He seemed hopeful, yet skeptical.

“In my experience I’ve found it to be a perfect starting point,” she reassured him. “Having a behavior plan the child understands often ends many of the issues. I’m not saying it’ll be an overnight transformation, but it will be a beginning.”

“What time?” Hank asked.

“School dismisses at three. Could you do three-fifteen? That way Ethan and Alli are already at the latchkey program.”

She heard a shuffle of papers. “Hmm…I have an appointment at three, but I’ll have my assistant reschedule it.” He paused. “I’ll be there,” he told her finally. “This is important.”

More of her tension left. Even though she’d been contacting parents during the twelve years she’d been teaching, it never got easier. She only felt she’d developed more professionalism and understanding over the years. Parents wanted results and answers. Hopefully she could provide a little of both.

“Excellent. Thanks, Mr. Friesen. I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that she replaced the phone and sent an e-mail to Carrie saying the meeting was on.

HANK PRESSED the button, ending the call he’d taken via speakerphone after cutting short a meeting of the Nolter’s day managers. They’d been about finished, anyway, so he doubted anyone was upset the meeting had ended early.

He exhaled, trying to ease the sense of foreboding taking root. As this week had unfolded, he’d hoped nothing was wrong. He’d convinced himself that the reason Ethan didn’t have homework like his sister was because he was in a different class. Alli loved school already; Ethan claimed it was “okay.” Alli raved about what she was learning; Ethan sat sullenly at the dinner table and said nothing, which was rare for a boy who normally overshadowed and outshouted his sister.

All the wishful thinking had been for naught. Hank had hoped his son’s sullen behavior was a phase related to the adjustment of going to an actual school, instead of being taught by his grandmother. Hank had done research on Nolter Elementary, and it had won many educational awards.

Hank glanced at his personal organizer and then pressed the intercom button on his phone. His administrative assistant answered immediately. “I need to reschedule my three o’clock tomorrow. Tell Stan to bring me the full catering report at—” Hank flipped the pages of the planner “—eight forty-five on Monday. As for me, mark me as off-site as of two-thirty tomorrow afternoon. If it’s an emergency, you can reach me on my pager.”

“Will do,” she said, disconnecting.

Hank picked up the five-by-seven framed portrait in front of him and leaned back in his chair. It was the last picture taken of the entire family, right after Ethan and Alli had turned four. They’d had a formal portrait done; the entire family had dressed in blue so that they coordinated. Everyone smiled broadly and appeared extremely happy, but if you looked closely, you could see the hollow circles around Amanda’s eyes.

She’d been so brave, so full of gentle spirit until the very end, which had been mercifully quick. Hank’s throat constricted slightly and he touched her face, as if trying to run a finger down her cheek. Instead, he obliterated her face entirely, reminding him she was but a memory of what should have been. They’d deserved it all. They hadn’t had enough time. Would they even be in this situation with Ethan if Amanda had lived? He’d lost the love of his life; his children had lost their mother. Everyone, especially Amanda, had lost the future they’d deserved.

No one ever said life was fair. Hank had learned that lesson many times over. He forced away the melancholy and returned the frame to its place between recent pictures of Ethan and Alli. He had to focus on the future, not on the hopes and dreams they’d all lost.

He was doing the best he could to manage without her, and, damn it, his efforts had to be enough.

Chapter Three

Hank had never attended a parent-teacher conference before. As he strode across the parking lot, he received a few odd glances from mothers in cars waiting to pick up their children.

The few male teachers who taught at Nolter probably didn’t dress in business suits. Maybe the mothers thought he was a book salesman or something.

Hank grimaced as he entered the building. He’d thought about changing first, but he’d run out of time as his meeting with the head accountant had run late. Time was one of those things Hank never seemed to have enough of, no matter how well he delegated.

Besides, he was comfortable in his attire. America had gone casual, and a suit still said class and power. That gave him a sense of security in this unfamiliar territory he was entering. He stepped into the office and announced to the secretary he had a meeting with Jolie Tomlinson.

The secretary had him sign in on a form. “She’s expecting you. Just go down to her classroom. Do you remember the way?”

Hank nodded. He found Jolie Tomlinson’s room, knocked on the metal door frame and entered.

“Hi.” She rose to her feet and wiped her hands on her denim jumper before offering him her hand. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“Like I said, this is important,” he replied. He took a breath and tried to relax his shoulders.

She nodded. “Of course. I can tell you are a man who cares very deeply for his children.”

Were there parents who simply didn’t care and wouldn’t show up? Hank wondered. The thought was appalling, but he remembered news reports he’d read while living in Chicago and realized that sadly, such parents did exist.

“So what seems to be Ethan’s main problem?” Hank asked, cutting to the chase and steeling himself for the worst. She’d gestured to an adult-size chair placed in front of her desk. He sat. About four feet separated them.

“Ethan is having a few issues accepting authority. He has a very dominant personality. He can’t shout out the answers to every question. He needs to share playground toys. When a teacher asks him to do something, he should do it immediately. Ethan has had to have a few time-outs for failing to meet class expectations.”

Hank understood the concept of time-out, which was when a student was removed from the group. “So are these punishments during class?”

“We like to think of them as consequences and, no, they happen at recess. We operate on a check system. First check is a warning. Second check a student loses five minutes of recess, and the third check ten. Four checks is the whole recess and five checks means the child is sent to the office.”

“How many check marks has Ethan had?”

“I keep track of them on this clipboard.” Jolie passed a clipboard over and Hank saw today’s sheet. At least, aside from Ethan, there were two other children on the list.