Comfort And Joy. Amy Frazier
decided to let that explanation suffice. “Tell me a little about the boys. About the school and the program they’re transferring from.”
His expression darkened. “This is the first opportunity I’ve had to enroll them anywhere.”
“Did they go to preschool?”
“No. But I read to them. We count together. When I cook, they help me measure. They’re bright,” he said. His pride had an edge. “They’ll catch up.”
“Of course. Anyway, this is kindergarten,” she assured him, trying to ease his defensiveness. “We don’t start drilling for college entrance exams until first grade.”
When he didn’t respond, she prodded him. “That’s teacher humor.”
Preoccupied with watching his sons, he largely ignored what she was saying. He seemed to have fewer social skills now than he had as a ten-year-old.
“What’s this?” The boy Olivia thought might be Justin broke the uncomfortable silence. He stood at her desk, pointing to the pinecone turkey she’d made.
“Why, that’s a Thanksgiving turkey. Would you each like to make one to go on your dinner table tomorrow?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“We have to get going,” Gabriel said, his brusque manner reminding Olivia of his father.
“Please, stay a few minutes more,” she urged, bringing her thoughts back to her responsibility. Her new students. “This is such a simple project. And if the boys have fun today, they’ll look forward to returning on Monday.”
Instantly, she knew she’d hit upon Gabriel’s soft spot. What was best for his sons. Before he could change his mind about staying, she cleared room at the craft table, dusted glitter off four chairs, then laid out fresh materials.
“Sit, Daddy,” Justin urged, plopping down in a pint-size chair as Jared wordlessly claimed the seat next to him. “You can help.”
Next came a scene Olivia never tired of watching. When a new parent first sank onto a kindergarten chair. Would the adult handle it with nonchalance, with self-deprecating humor, or with a sense that this was a deliberate assault on his ego? Over the years, Olivia had come to view it as a remarkably accurate test of character.
Gabriel Brant sat warily. As he’d sat many years ago on her aunt’s antique wicker porch furniture. Aunt Lydia had served them homemade lemonade and gingersnaps. The memory tugged at Olivia now. She remembered how, at the end of the summer, Aunt Lydia had said, “He’s a fine boy with a good imagination. Let’s hope Walter Brant doesn’t drum the imaginative part clear out of him.”
As Olivia showed the twins how to twist brown pipe cleaners to form the turkey’s head, legs and feet, and then demonstrated how to secure them in the pinecone’s “tail feathers,” Gabriel helped. Remarkably, his large hands were adept at this, his patience—with the boys—infinite. He never seemed to become more comfortable, though, only more determined. To accomplish this small task for his sons. Only when they’d finished shaking glitter onto the cones, and both Justin and Jared, who’d looked so sober upon entering her classroom, were smiling shyly, did Gabriel appear to relax.
She handed him the second demonstration bird she’d made today. “Now you can each have a turkey at your place tomorrow.”
“What about Grampa?” Justin asked. “He’ll need one. We’re staying with him. Every day we’re gonna walk from his house to school.”
Interesting. When Gabriel had left town after high-school graduation, Olivia had heard rumors that it was because Walter and he were such polar opposites they couldn’t stand to be in the same room. What had happened to bring Gabriel back?
He offered no explanation.
“I’ll give you another one I made earlier with the class,” she said, rising. “That way no one gets left out.” Returning to the table, she handed a fourth turkey to Gabriel and then spoke to the boys. “So do you think you’re going to like coming to school?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Justin replied, but Jared only stared at his turkey.
“Jared,” Gabriel said gently. “Look at Ms. Marshall when she’s talking to you.”
Jared did. Self-consciously. There was intelligence in his eyes, but deep uncertainty, as well. Although he made the requisite eye contact, he didn’t speak.
“Well, I’m looking forward to having you both in my class. Let me get your dad a list of the supplies you’ll need.”
As if glad to be dismissed, Gabriel rose. When she handed him the list of pencils, crayons, glue sticks, tissues, change of clothes and more that was the standard request of kindergarten parents, he blanched. “They’ll each need all these?”
“Yes,” she replied. This was always the ticklish part. “But if, for any reason, you can’t provide the supplies, I do have a discretionary fund….”
“I’ll see they have what they need by Monday.” His expression hard, he looked her in the eye. “Don’t do me any favors. Don’t offer any charity.”
She was stung by the vehemence of his words.
As he turned to leave, it was as if he’d thrown a switch, shutting her out completely. In retreat, the set of his broad shoulders was stiff. The light touch of his hands on his sons’ heads was gentle, but nothing else about Gabriel Brant was soft or yielding. Nothing that indicated the return to Hennings was the least bit pleasant for him.
What had life dealt her childhood friend to harden him so?
CHAPTER TWO
AFTER GABRIEL LEFT with his boys, Olivia didn’t have time to puzzle over his prickly behavior before Kelly poked her head around the door frame.
“So did you like the early Christmas present I sent you?” the perpetually cheery clerk asked.
“I haven’t had a minute to eat it,” she replied, indicating the cupcake Kelly had sent to the classroom earlier. Olivia deliberately misunderstood the question.
“Not that, silly! Gabriel Brant.” The clerk entered the room with a mischievous grin. “He didn’t want the twins split up. I could have put them in Megan’s class. She has the same number of students as you. But she’s married.”
Matchmakers. Hennings was full of them. “Are you forgetting the odds are fairly high Mr. Brant is married, too?”
“Oh, no,” Kelly countered. “On the registration form he left the space for the twins’ mother blank. I’m assuming he’s unattached.”
“That’s a pretty dangerous assumption.”
It wasn’t that Olivia wasn’t looking for love. Her aunt Lydia, the town librarian for many years, had raised her on a diet of fairy tales and adventure stories. Princesses in towers and princes on stallions. And happily ever after. They were the same tales she shared with her kindergarteners. Only now she occasionally changed the endings to have the princess do the saving.
“And you seem to forget,” she added, “he’s the parent of my two newest students. There must be a clause in my contract prohibiting a teacher from entering into a relationship with a parent.”
“No. You can’t date an administrator. And you can’t engage in public lewdness. Otherwise, what you do in private is pretty much your own business.”
Olivia slipped her arm around Kelly’s shoulders. “I’ll cut you some slack because this is your first year in the system. But FYI, the written rules and the unwritten rules can be poles apart.” She didn’t want to sound like a prude, but ten years’ experience had taught her that teachers were still considered the most public of public servants. And single teachers? Their extracurricular activities were always scrutinized. “Besides, you’re