Twins for the Teacher

Hank reached for the iced tea on the table next to him and took a long drink. He’d dated a few times after Amanda’s death, but no one had captured his attention quite like Jolie, a woman completely off-limits.

“Dad? You ever going to come in?” Alli’s head appeared at the edge of the pool, her gaze expectant. She hopped out and walked to him.

Hank set the glass down. He’d learned long ago that there were some things, like cancer, that you couldn’t control. Making time for his children was something he did have a say in. Alli shouldn’t have to ask. He rose to his feet and gave his daughter a sideways glance. She seemed to anticipate his words for she giggled and started for the pool as he yelled, “Last one in’s a rotten egg.”

Chapter Four

The call from Hank Friesen came two weeks later, at five-fifty on a Thursday night.

“Thank goodness you’re still there,” were his first words.

“Mr. Friesen?” Although she’d only spoken with him briefly a few times since their face-to-face meeting, she’d recognize that deep voice anywhere. Today it held a touch of desperation.

“Call me Hank,” he insisted. “I’ve been trying to get through to the latchkey program, but they don’t have a phone number.”

“No, they use the phone in the office,” Jolie explained.

“That’s closed,” he stated.

Well, technically the door was open, but everyone had gone home. Jolie had a report due in a week for the state agency that provided her technology grant, so she’d stayed late to work on that.

She really needed to get a life beyond her four classroom walls.

Hank didn’t mince words. “Look, I’m stuck in traffic. It’s horrible on the strip, so I got off onto the red route. Maybe I’m on the blue. Whatever color it is, it’s not moving, either. I’m going to be late picking up Ethan and Alli, but I’m on my way. Will you let them know? Whatever the cost, I’ll pay it.”

Branson, entertainment mecca of the Midwest, was known for its horrible traffic. The city had spent millions building new roads and color-coding them. Still, anything could cause a snag.

“How about I just go get Ethan and Alli and I’ll keep them here with me? I’ll prop the side door open with a rug. You’ll see my car by the door. It’s a powder-blue Prius.”

“Will they let you take them? I didn’t put you on the contact sheet.”

“I get Ethan daily for after-school tutoring. It should be fine for me to check out Alli, as well. Just get here in one piece. Take your time. No heroics.”

“Okay, thanks.” He disconnected and Jolie rose to her feet. She needed a break from sitting and typing, anyway. When she reached the cafeteria, where the latchkey program was held, Mrs. Monahan was signing out her daughter, leaving only the Friesen twins. Ethan was tapping his fingers on the table and Alli had two crayons and some paper out. Everything else had been cleaned up.

“Hey, Sam. I’m taking Ethan and Alli. Their dad’s stuck in traffic.”

Sam Jackson, a seventysomething retired schoolteacher, blinked. “I’m not sure that’s in the policy.”

Jolie ignored the curious glance of the teenage latchkey assistant and gave Sam her best smile. “It’ll be fine. I just spoke with their dad. You could call him on his cell and confirm. He’s at least twenty minutes away. I don’t want you two to have to stay. You have his cell on the paperwork?”

“I want to go with Ms. Tomlinson,” Ethan declared. “It’s boring at the end of the day. I don’t want to just sit here.” He kicked the underside of the table for emphasis and Jolie shot him The Look. He quieted immediately. Since the implementation of his behavior plan, he’d been much better. Still, Ethan struggled. No one changed overnight.

“I guess it’s okay,” Sam finally conceded, probably having no real desire to stay past 6:00 p.m. with an edgy Ethan.

“Great!” Ethan whooped. He was already on his feet and grabbing his backpack from the hook. Alli moved a lot more slowly, gathering up the crayons first.

“Where do I sign?” Jolie asked.

Soon she ushered Alli and Ethan into her classroom. “Both of you put your backpacks on the hooks. The custodian hasn’t been in here yet, but that doesn’t mean we can make a mess. Is everyone’s homework done?”

“I finished in latchkey,” Ethan announced.

“I have social studies to do, but I need the Internet,” Alli said. “I’ll do that at the hotel.”

Jolie noted that Alli used the word hotel, not home. “Games are okay if you put them back. The reading center is always good. Off-limits are my computers, the handhelds and the art supplies. Any questions? I’m going to be working on my report if you need me. Don’t hesitate to interrupt. I’m not so busy I can’t stop.”

Both children stared at her and then scattered, Alli to the reading area and Ethan to the games. Jolie went back to her computer.

About five minutes later Alli’s plaintive voice cut through the silence. “Stop it, Ethan.”

Jolie swiveled in her chair so she could assess the situation. Bored with playing games alone, Ethan had cleaned up and moved over to the reading area. He was currently humming some unidentifiable tune, distracting his sister from the book she’d chosen.

“Ethan, I need your help,” Jolie called. He came over to her desk and she pointed. “See all those papers? They’re for tomorrow. I would appreciate it if you’d put one of those on everyone’s desk. That way they’ll have them first thing in the morning.”

Jolie watched as Ethan did as she asked. Her brother Lance had often gotten bored easily and would torment her. Unfortunately, having Ethan pass out papers was only going to last a minute or two. And they had at least ten more minutes to kill before Hank arrived.

Maybe the truth is you wouldn’t make a very good mother.

This time her inner voice reflected something her ex-husband had said long ago, right before he’d filed for divorce. Sure, she’d wanted more kids, but she hadn’t been ready. Not so soon after the tragedy….

Jolie frowned, stood and pushed the painful memory aside. Ethan had distributed the last paper and was bringing the extras to her desk. The fact was, at this time in her life, she was no longer a mother. She was a teacher. Educators learned how to improvise. She clicked the mouse, closing her saved document. She’d finish it later. She turned on the SMART board. “Why don’t you draw me a picture?” she suggested.

“What of?” Ethan asked as he handed her the papers.

“I don’t know. What do you like to draw? Surprise me,” Jolie suggested. She walked over to where Alli sat reading an American Girl story. “Is that a good book?”

“I’ve read it before,” Alli said.

“So you like it?” Jolie pressed. Carrie had said that Alli was quiet. She’d made a couple of friends, but she was the shy one in the group.

“It’s okay,” Alli said. “It’s a Girls of Many Lands book. Cecile’s afraid of being put in the Bastille. She ends up banished, but she gets sent to school at St. Cyr, instead.”

“That’s how the book ends,” Jolie said, seeing the correlation Alli was making. “Do you think you’ve been banished?”

Alli shrugged. “I’ve been sent to school. I liked the first few days. But I thought it would be a lot different.”

Jolie’s concern rose. “You don’t like school?”

“I don’t know,” Alli said. Her lip quivered slightly and then she blurted, “Mrs. H is great. But some of the boys are teasing me. They say I’m freaky ’cause I never went to school before.”

“Does Mrs. H know?” Jolie said, not surprised when she saw Alli shake her head. Carrie would have quashed that nonsense immediately. Teachers received in-service training every fall on harassment and bullying, including how to spot it and stop it. One of the things Nolter Elementary prided itself on was its character-building program and being a place where everyone felt welcome.

“I don’t want to tell her,” Alli said. “Grandma told me this would happen, but I didn’t want to believe it. She didn’t want us to go.”

“Of course she didn’t,” Jolie said, sitting down on the carpet. “Your grandmother loves you very much. I’m sure she misses you.”

“I miss her.” Her face scrunched up and a tear escaped before Alli bit back the rest of the waterworks. “She and Dad fought a lot before we moved. She told him he was being pigheaded and stupid. I’m not sure how he can have a pig head, but I’m sure it’s not good. I know what stupid means.”