When I get to the school, there’s a portable rock climbing wall, a big bouncy castle, a face painting booth, the dunk tank, and a bunch of small game booths in various stages of being set up. The landscaping around the property was originally done with the assisted living center aesthetic in mind: trees,big bushes, and flower beds. The PTO has a student-run gardening club that helps keep the grounds nice, and tonight they’ve strung lights through the red and orange-leafed trees, draped spooky spiderwebs on the bushes, and placed headstones and skeleton bones around the mums and dahlias. It’s a kid’s dream.
“There you are!” Jen says, like she’s been searching forever for me. She wastes no time grabbing my arm and pulling me toward my station. “We are so lucky the weather has stayed warm for late October. It’ll make your life less miserable tonight.”
I don’t like the sound of that.
In the center of the field is a large rented dunk tank that’s been given a facelift. The background is a pirate ship and the base around the tank has been transformed to an under the sea aesthetic. Where I sit is a wooden plank, from which I’ll fall into the tank of water below. Jen explains how kids and adults will be given the opportunity to throw three coconuts at the bullseye to drop me.
“You’ve really leaned into the assignment with that costume, Coach,” Jen says.
I shake loose from her grip and give her a sarcastic smile. “It’s about the kids, right? Anything for them.”
We reach the dunk tank and Nola’s waiting for us, dressed in a warm onesie parrot costume. She looks as ridiculous as she did dressed up as Ben Franklin. Jen stands us side-by-side and inspects us up and down. She motions for us to move closer together so we’re almost touching and snaps a picture. “I’m going to throw this up on the school website.” Jen glances at her camera roll. “These look great! You guys really nailed it! Any questions?”
Before we can ask anything, she says, “Great!” and goes offtoward the rock climbing wall, leaving Nola and me alone. I haven’t seen her since she berated me about Emma’s grade and then stormed off. I’m sure I should be the one to break the ice, but there’s nothing I can say to this woman to make her like me since I didn’t agree to the make-up run. Instead, I walk over to the tank and check out what I’ll be working with tonight.
“Mom!” Mad scientist Emma runs up to us with a group of fifth graders all decked out in various versions of Barbie. “How much money can I spend tonight?”
“I already bought your tickets, monkey. They’re right here.” She pulls a stack of old-school carnival tickets from a canvas tote and hands them over to her daughter, whose face lights up.
“You’re the best!” Emma squeals.
“Coach, we’re coming for you!” Eighties Exercise Barbie Reese warns me with a withering stare that should worry me. She rolls her shoulder forward and back. “I’ve been practicing my pitching all afternoon.”
With an attitude, I lean into my pirate self. “Aye, those sound like fighting words, me mateys.”
Cowgirl Barbie puts her balled-up fists on her hips defiantly and levels a glare my way. “You gave our friend a B and you’re going to pay for it.”
A small smirk graces Nola’s face as she stacks the coconuts into a pyramid on the table. “Alright girls, that’s enough. You’ll have your turn to dunk the pirate soon. Why don’t you go ask Jen or Principal Bennett if they need any last-minute help? Things should kick off soon and I need you to stick together while I’m over here all night, okay?”
They promise, but before they can run off, Nola pulls her daughter aside. “Em, not too much candy tonight, okay?”
“I know.” She drags outknowinto at least four beats.
Kissing the top of her kid’s head, Nola adds, “Also, have a boatload of fun, alright? And if you need more tickets, just come find me.”
Emma’s eyes widen with glee. “Love you, Mom!” she declares and runs off, leading her pack over toward the bouncy castle where Principal Bennett is. Nola watches her with a smile on her face before picking up a Costco-sized bag of chocolate coins and opening the drink cooler-turned-treasure chest on the ground.
I adjust my captain’s hat and push the attached dreadlock wig out of my face. “She’s lucky to have you for a mom.”
This observation stops her mid-pour, and she tucks a loose hair back under the parrot-head hoodie. “Thanks?” she says like a question.
“I mean it.” Emma only thinks her mom is the best because Nola gave her a bunch of tickets to get cheap prizes and trash food. What I see is a mom who showed up. That’s something we never had in the Hutchings family. Nola’s a single mom, so I’m willing to bet she has a million other things she should be doing or would rather be doing, but the fact of the matter is, she’s chosen to overheat in that onesie while working her child’s school carnival.
“I asked around about you,” she says, changing the subject.
The comment makes me puff out my chest a little. Nola’s asked about me. Iknewshe felt something when she kissed me and yeah, she wasn’t expecting me to be the P.E. teacher who ruined Emma’s life, but this is good. Maybe she’s come around to understanding I wasn’t wrong about the grade Emma earned and we’re moving forward.
“You have a bachelor’s in history, but how’d you get the job if you’re not certified?” she asks, an undertone ofaccusation in her voice. The school grounds are starting to fill with people, and she looks around before closing the gap between us and lowering her voice. “This is a very prestigious charter school and I know for a fact Lisa doesn’t just let anybody teach here.”
Accusations make me defensive. “I’m certified.”
“You are? Since when?”
“July.”
“From where?” She looks disbelieving.
I wave her off. “Who’s the nosy one now?”
