“I see,” he finally said, giving me a long look up and down, but it wasn’t the kind of appraising looks Madison sought when she dragged me around her favorite flashy bars. Rather, from the hardening of his expression, he looked as though he wasn’t about to let me in it all. But he finally did hold the door open and step to the side. “Have a seat on the couch please.”
“Is Mrs. Allen here?” I looked around and tried to hide my awe. If it were possible, the interior of the house was even more luxurious than the exterior. The walls had been painted a relaxing shade of blue-gray, and the intricate crown molding above was white, as was everything else. White carpet, white couches, white throw pillows, even a white knitted blanket was draped across the couch. If the young man hadn’t let me inside, I would’ve wondered if I was even at Jade’s house at all. It didn’t appear to be the kind of place a six-year-old could possibly occupy. Nothing was out of place, and there weren’t any stains, not even below the knob on the door. I sat on the couch where the man had indicated. Surely now he would go get Mrs. Allen.
I knew from our intervention meetings at school that Jade had at least three private therapists that she saw throughout the week during the school year, and with summer here, there was a good chance she would have even more starting soon. I had brought a pen and notebook in case I needed to create a schedule with all of Jade’s therapy locations and times. I pulled it out to prepare myself. But instead of calling for Mrs. Allen, he simply sat in the armchair across from me and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, studying me unabashedly.
I tried not to squirm under the scrutiny of his gaze. “You must be Jade’s brother,” I said, immediately hating the way my voice wavered. What had Mrs. Allen said his name was?
“I am.” He continued to stare at me then sat back. “So how many children with disabilities have you taught over the years?”
I laughed nervously. “Well, privacy laws would prohibit me from telling you exactly who has what in terms of special needs, but I can say my time working with your sister has been one of my favorite parts of teaching this year.”
“And how long have you been teaching?”
I struggled to keep my smile in place. “This was my first year.” Well, this was certainly not going the way I’d expected it to. Why was he grilling me like a confirmed terrorist? Annoyance began to take the place of the attraction which had first struck me upon seeing him. Who cared if he was good-looking? He was really starting to get on my nerves. I tried again. Maybe I could distract him until Mrs. Allen arrived.
“Your mother says you just moved back. Where did you live before this?”
“Colorado.” He didn’t even blink. “What kind of background checks does the school district require?”
“Um…” I tried to sift through my memory to all the paperwork I’d filled out the year before. “Fingerprinting. Federal checks. Stuff like that.” Distraction. I needed more distraction. “What do your parents do? I don’t think your mother ever mentioned it.”
He snorted. “They own their own construction company.”
Was that a bad thing? “Oh,” I tried to smile. “So that’s how your dad got the time off. That must be nice for them to be in charge of their own schedules.””
“They can take time off whenever they want. They just choose not to. Now what about accreditation? Do you have any higher level accreditation for teaching children with special needs?”
“I’m a general education teacher.” I squeezed the handles of my bag. “Jade is in a general education class because she’s capable of learning in that environment. But I have had training for teaching children with special needs, yes.” Two whole classes. But again, he didn’t need to know that.
“So how many of your college classes covered teaching children with Down Syndrome?”
I sat taller. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to get at, but I can assure you I’m perfectly aware of Jade’s needs. I can also assure you that she’s a very intelligent little girl. She actually completes much of her work along with her peers.”
Instead of relaxing, though, his frown only deepened. “I understand that, but—”
“Derrick!”
I turned to see Mrs. Allen coming down the stairs. Thank goodness.
“I said I wanted you to meet her, not interrogate her. Now quit grilling our guest, and go do something constructive.” She paused at the foot of the stairs and frowned. “Have you eaten yet?”
“No.” He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands then stood and stretched. As he stretched, I couldn’t help noticing the definition of his biceps. Not that I cared, of course. Derrick Allen might be nice to look at, but he had pushed nearly every button I had. He was in the military, too. Off-limits for sure.
“Well,” Mrs. Allen said, shooing him away from the couch, “go find something to eat and then get some sleep. I’ll take it from here.” She gave him a good-natured shove when he didn’t move, and pointed at the entrance of what looked like a kitchen at the far end of the room. Then she took his seat and rolled her eyes with a smile. “You’ll have to forgive Derrick. He cares a lot about his sister. In fact, she’s the reason he moved back.”
“I thought airmen didn’t get to pick where they go.” I let myself lean back into the couch a bit now that he was in the other room. When I glanced at the open door, though, I could see him leaning against the wall as he munched on a bowl of cereal. He wasn’t even bothering to hide his eavesdropping.
“Oh, they usually don’t. But he knew someone who knew someone and was somehow able to get back here.” She threw up her hands. “I’m not sure of all the details. We’re just grateful to have him here for as long as he can stay. That’s not why you’re here, though.” She pulled a piece of paper from a folder she was holding and handed it to me. “She’s with her father right now at physical therapy. He and I both took a few days off to help while we switched caregivers, but she’ll be all yours next Monday. Now, if you look here,” she pointed to the spreadsheet, “we’ll need you at the house around seven in the morning. You’ll get her breakfast and help her get dressed and ready for the day. Therapy always starts at nine, so you’ll need to hurry her more on the days therapy is farther away.”
I continued to smile and nod the best I could as Mrs. Allen went on, but I couldn’t silently help wondering if I was getting in over my head.
“Physical therapy is on Mondays and Thursdays. Speech and occupational therapy are on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, and horse-play Fridays. Horse-play is nearly an hour away, so you’ll need to make sure you build in enough time to get there.” Mrs. Allen pointed to the address labeled in pink on the color-coordinated spreadsheet she’d given me. “Mr. Allen and I will give you a preloaded Visa card with enough money to pay for the gas as well as lunch since you won’t be able to return home in time to eat most days.”
As she went on to explain that speech and occupational therapy were across town from one another, I began to pray that my car would last through all the extra miles. That, and that I could learn to ignore the eyes I felt studying me from the kitchen.
“Naps are at two, and her piano teacher will be here by four on Thursdays. We should be home around four as well, but she needs to be ready so our arrival doesn’t distract her. And of course,” Mrs. Allen smiled, “we’re hoping that you’ll be able to prepare her for first grade in your free time as well.” Her eyes flicked from the schedule to me. “Do you have any questions?”
I wanted to ask when this poor child got any time to be a kid, but that was sure to go over poorly with my new employers. So instead, I grinned and tucked the paper into my bag. “No, I think this is quite eno—”
