Skylar repeated her word for word. He had the pinched, frustrated look of someone who was used to repeating things when his mother corrected him. Which it seemed like she did a lot.
“Feel free to find a seat anywhere,” I said, not addressing her behavior. No need to piss off a parent before the year even started. “We’ll start in a minute.”
“I’ll stand,” the woman told me, pushing her son along by his shoulders like a stroller.
I checked my attendance sheet again even though I already knew the name of the student who wasn’t here yet. Evanne McCrae, registered by mother, Keli Miller. Either they were running late, or they weren’t bothering with the open house. Either way, it was time to get started.
I shut the classroom door, took a second to steady myself, then turned to face the parents and students I’d be working with this year. After giving them a polite greeting and reminding them of my name, I moved right to the curricula, the school’s policies and procedures, the classroom expectations, and general standards. Then, I opened it up to questions.
Probably a bad idea.
I was barraged with questions, but I somehow reminded myself to keep breathing and stayed composed the entire time. Once I was done, I let everyone know that there were refreshments being served, but they were also welcome to remain here to talk to both me and each other.
It seemed like forever by the time I reached a break in the flow of parents with all sorts of curious questions, but a look at the clock told me that I still had ninety minutes before I could even begin to think about leaving.
I’d just taken a drink from my bottle of water when an older woman, maybe in her early fifties, hurried into the classroom, holding the hand of a skipping little girl with long, dark brown curls and sparkling blue eyes.
“Hello!” said the woman, breathing heavily. She was short and slender with silver-streaked reddish-brown hair. Her hair and clothing were simple, but in that tastefully expensive way that told me she probably had more money than most everyone else here. “I’m so sorry we’re late. Evanne’s father had a business meeting, and I plumb forgot about tonight until half an hour ago.”
“That’s quite all right,” I said with a smile. “Hello, Evanne! I’m Ms. Browne. It’s so nice to meet you.”
“Really?” she asked, seeming to be genuinely surprised.
I laughed softly, not wanting her to think I was laughing at her. “Of course! I’m looking forward to being your teacher.”
She smiled and held her hand up. I gave her a high five. I liked her already, and if I wasn’t careful, I was going to start playing favorites.
“And you must be Evanne’s…?” I let the question trail off rather than making a potentially insulting assumption.
“Grandmother,” she said. Her dark brown eyes were warm. “I’m Theresa McCrae.”
“Lumen Browne,” I said, shaking her hand.
“Wonderful to meet you, Lumen.”
I believed her. She seemed like the sort of woman who wouldn’t pretend, no matter how unpopular her opinion or feelings might have been.
“I’m sorry again for keeping you waiting.”
“I tried to run as fast as I could!” Evanne interjected.
“I had a hard time keeping up,” Theresa admitted.
I chuckled too. The two of them were quite the pair. “You must be a very fast runner, Evanne.”
“I’m training to be a marathon sprinter,” she said seriously. “Or a firefighter. I haven’t decided yet.”
Impressive goals. “You can be both.”
She considered my statement with a gravity beyond her age. “Maybe. But I’ll only run at recess. I know not to run in class unless it’s an emergency.”
“Wise girl.”
Theresa patted Evanne’s head, pride and love shining in her eyes.
“I’m afraid I’m a little unprepared for this,” Theresa admitted. She held a rolled-up piece of green paper I recognized as one of the school schedules sent home to the parents.
“Don’t worry about it. This is just for you and your granddaughter to get a feel for me and get an idea of what the upcoming school year will be like.”
