Twins for the Teacher. Michele Dunaway
had been Jolie’s on-and-off boyfriend for the past year. She hadn’t heard from him in about a week, probably because they were running out of things to say to each other.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Carrie said.
Jolie sighed. Chad owned a car-repair shop and they’d met when she’d needed new brakes. “Yeah, well, don’t pity me. It’s just a dent in my pretty nonexistent sex life. Not that he was that great, anyway. Heck, sex wasn’t even great during my marriage. I’m in a lifelong dry spell.”
“There’s always the local bars,” Carrie joked. “Or the sex-toy shop.”
Jolie laughed. Trust Carrie to put things into perspective, even if slightly skewed. “Perish the thought. I’m not that desperate yet!”
The women sat for a moment, each in her own thoughts. Then Carrie said, “I don’t know how you do it. I mean that in a good way. I don’t think I could be out there dating again.”
Carrie had married her childhood sweetheart. Neither had ever gone out with anyone else after meeting in eighth grade.
“You just do it,” Jolie said, picking up a stray blue pen and putting it in her desk drawer. “It’s not what I planned for my life, but I’ve learned to take it as it comes. So get home to that guy and consider yourself lucky. I’ll see you Monday.”
“Sounds good. Don’t work too hard.” Carrie rose and left and Jolie finished grading her papers.
PAPERS WERE the bane of a teacher’s existence, Jolie thought the next week while her class was at music. She pushed the stack aside, dreading the phone call she had to make.
“How are you doing?” Carrie asked, taking the chair next to Jolie’s desk. Their plan time overlapped by ten minutes, so Carrie usually popped in after dropping her class off at phys ed.
“Getting ready to make a call,” Jolie said.
Carrie winced. “Ethan?”
“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