“I think Billy is trying to figure out if this is a meet-cute,” Dade said with one of those smiles that could light up any room. “Unfortunately, it’s not.” He shrugged. “See, if you and I were to have a meet-cute, it would be you carrying me out of my apartment building, filled with smoke.”
“How is that cute?” Cliff asked. “I mean, it could have been life-threatening.” Maybe he didn’t quite get the concept.
“Okay. So, you rush into a smoke-filled building, putting yourself at risk, lift me into your strong, muscly arms, and carry me to safety. See, that’s the meet-cute.” Dade held his gaze, and damned if Cliff didn’t look right back, because, damn. He reached for his water to wet his suddenly dry mouth. “But just so you know, you may be the big, strong hero in that story, but I am no damsel in distress.”
Cliff rolled eyes. “For the record, I don’t do damsels.” Did Dade actually shiver? Dammit, he liked that thought. “And just so you know, I learned how to be clear-headed and assess risks and danger in the army.” He had to get a point for that one.
“Fine. You’re the hero in this story. But don’t think I’m just going to fall at your feet when you show up all sexy-looking in your uniform that shows off your muscles and makes you look hot. Because it’s not going to work.”
Cliff leaned closer. “You think I’m hot?”
“Jesus. I teach eight-year-olds all day, and they can’t help saying the first thing that comes into their minds. Maybe it’s catching and I need to stop and think more clearly about what I’m saying.”
“Oh, please don’t. You can tell me I’m hot all you want.” Cliff sipped from his glass and did his best not to smirk as Dade sputtered from across the table. “And you can learn a lot from eight-year-olds.”
Dade leaned over the table. “Oh, do tell.”
“They’re unashamed and unself-conscious. They say what they mean and haven’t yet learned to censor themselves. Basically, they’re unabashedly themselves, and mostly they’re pretty happy. Right?”
Dade chuckled. “They are that. They like school, and they play like it’s the last day of the world. I’ve often thought thatwe’d all be happier if we could just be like them. Instead, we worry about what everyone else thinks of us, and we all try to be whatever we think we’re supposed to be.”
“So, do you like it? Being a teacher?” Cliff clarified. “Is that what you always wanted to do?”
“I love teaching. Second-graders are fun, but they have a ton of energy, so I have to remember that while I may have them in class for six hours, only about half that time is productive. So, we have story time right after lunch and recess, to settle them down. They’re learning while they’re entertained.”
“Pretty clever,” Cliff told him.
“You have to be. I have a unit right now where we’re learning about wetlands. We talk about various animals that live in wetlands, and I made them each a booklet. They write down what the animal is on a page and then draw and color a picture of it. I get English, penmanship, art, and spelling all in one activity that they like, because drawing things is something second-graders adore. And once the unit is done, they get to take the book home and show their parents. I do one of those kinds of units a month, and by the end of the year, I have them write a story about the animal rather than just writing down what they learned. So, I’ve added original composition to the lesson, and they love it.”
“During the holiday season, do they write holiday stories?” Cliff asked, and Dade grinned. “I bet you put a spin on it.” He looked like he was about to answer when the server approached.
“I’m David, and I’ll be your server this evening,” he said with a smile. “We have an amazing sole tonight, and Darryl has mussels in a curry broth that are amazing. Each dinner is thirty dollars. Can I start you with appetizers?” he asked.
Dade glanced at the menu and seemed to make up his mind. “I’d like the milanaise with a salad and a glass of pinot grigio.” He handed back the menu, and Cliff got the steak frites,medium, with the house-made mayo for the fries. David thanked them and turned to the server station to put in the orders.
“This place has been here for quite a while, from what I understand. The Greek place in town as well as the fine Italian restaurant on Pomfret are all owned by them. Darryl is the head chef and owner of all of them. Billy told me that David has a twin. He’s training under Darryl to manage the Greek restaurant. David is heading to college in the fall.”
“How do you know all this stuff?” Cliff asked.
“It’s not that big a town, and when you get to know people and put down roots, then you hear things. A few years ago, Billy had a health scare. He’s okay, thank goodness, but the bills were horrendous. Loyal customers got together, booked the restaurant, and held a benefit for him… right here. That’s Carlisle for you.”
“I’ve always heard what an amazing town this is. Apparently, a lot of people at the barracks make this posting their last one and retire out of here so they can stay.” He sipped his water and nibbled on a piece of bread once David brought a basket. “So, you were telling me about the holidays in your class.” They’d gotten off the subject, and he wanted to bring it back to what Dade had been saying earlier.
Dade nodded slowly as his mind seemed to click back on to the subject. “You have to understand that most of the kids in my class still believe in Santa. I have a special Christmas book that the kids do. Together, we make up stories about a new reindeer that the kids get to name. And, of course, we have a big craft project so the kids can make something for their parents. It’s a real big deal.”
“But don’t you end up doing a lot of the project?” Cliff asked as David brought the wine for Dade.
“Sometimes. I try to come up with something that the kids can do themselves. I mean, we make jack-o-lanterns atHalloween and turkeys for Thanksgiving. But my thought is to develop a project for Christmas that the kids can do in stages. Last year, I got clear plastic ornaments, and the kids colored a transfer that went on it. Then we applied them and decoupaged over it. They turned out really nice, and I brought in a tree that we hung all the ornaments on so the kids got to enjoy all of them. Then, before the holiday break, they each took their ornament home.”
Cliff loved the light in Dade’s eyes. It was like he was experiencing this all over. “I have to ask how you make math fun. Because at that age, I struggled with that so hard.”
“I try. But math is math. We talk about the concepts, go over them multiple times. We also play games around math and have a lot of drills. Things like math and language arts are so important. They’re the foundation of everything. I really want my kids to be able to come out of my class ready for the next steps. We talk about multiplication a little in the second grade.”
“I remember that. Math was the one subject that didn’t come easy to me, until it did,” Cliff added. “I had the hardest time when I was in the first and second grades. It was like I didn’t have enough fingers to count on, and then I suddenly understood. The light went on, and it got easier all of a sudden.”
“It’s like that for a lot of kids, and I love when it happens in my class. That aha moment when they realize that they can do it. A lot of the learning tools we have are on tablets, and the kids take them home. Sometimes they do some of their assignments on the tablets. I like the kids to be able to do the work on their own. Some of my colleagues think I’m a little old-fashioned, but I think the kids should know what the tablet is doing before they move ahead and just let the tablet do everything.” He shook his head. “It’s kind of crazy sometimes.” He sighed. “Things are the way they are.” He sipped some water. “So, tell me more about what you do.”
“It’s pretty simple. My job is to make sure that the things the army needs are in the right place when they need it. We have depots and warehouses all over the country. For some things, it’s pretty simple. Everyone stocks toilet paper and basic essentials. But a few years ago, with all the sudden rain on the west coast, we needed gear that’s ordinarily kept on the east coast out there.”
