By the time we made it back to my car, he was messaging someone to pick him up. I wasn’t going to cross a line and offer to drive him somewhere. I waved as I drove away, glancing back at him, seeing his hand lift and return the wave.
Next week couldn’t come soon enough.
SEVEN
Walker
Snow.It fell lightly as I shuffled my way down the sidewalk to the community center, flakes tumbling downward in a little ballerina frost fairy dance as Harper used to call snowfall. I paused, looked left and right, and then behind me to ensure my sister had pulled off before falling to one knee to run my finger through the cold white dust on the cement walkway. There was little wind roaring off the lake tonight, a blessing, as the temps had tumbled now December had arrived. The snow was cold, delicate like Chantilly lace, and melted instantly. Funny how we never take the time to enjoy snow as adults. As kids, we loved it. As grown-ups? Not so much. It’s a hassle to shovel, it makes driving hazardous, and it cancels school if you get enough, which is a PITA for working parents. Great for kids, but a headache for adults.
I guess that was part of leaving childhood behind. I drew a circle on the sidewalk, then filled it in to complete a smiley face. A pair of soft blue sneakers came into sight. My gaze flew up from my impromptu artwork to my art teacher. Finn. He was smiling down at me.
“Hey,” I gruffly said, rising and moving my foot over the smiley snow face to clear it from existence. Maybe there was something to be said for leaving childish things in the past.
“Hey,” he replied, hugging himself tightly as flakes fell softly onto his hair and lashes, dotting his cheeks. I reached up to brush one off his nose. His eyes widened.
“You’re early.” He took a step back. My hand fell. I felt like a moron for being so brazen.
“Yeah, my sister had to be at the gym. She teaches kickboxing.” I walked around him, shoulders tight, my hand gripping the small package in my coat pocket. This whole season was stupid. The fact I’d allowed Harper to suck me into all the ho-ho-ho bullshit I blamed on the mood stabilizers. Not since I’d left home had I allowed a tree in the house or lights or silly window peels of reindeer and elves. Fucking elves. If Santa and his little minions were so magical, why hadn’t they done something to help me and my sister? Yep, just like God, they sat by and watched with their thumbs up their rumps.
“Wow, that’s impressive! Is she good?” He trailed along after me, jogging to get to my side. I yanked the door open and held it, all courtly gentleman, for him. He gave me a tiny smile as he darted inside.
“She could kick my ass on any given night.”
His eyes flared. “Thatisimpressive.”
“She rocks. Best human being on the planet, bar none.”
“I have a brother,” he said as we made our way down to the art room, the halls empty, our footfalls falling into a matched rhythm as I slowed for him. “He’s one of my favorite people on the planet as well.”
I nodded and stopped in front of a bulletin board covered with flyers for local craft fairs, holiday events, and Christmas concerts. There was so much red and green that I had to lookelsewhere. Like at Finn, who was much prettier than any jingle bell or gaudy glass ball stickers.
“Is your brother a teacher too?” I asked simply because I wanted to know more about the man. Sue. Me.
“No, he’s an electrician.” He padded around me as he talked. I enjoyed the way the lights made his hair look highlighted. “He doesn’t have the patience for teaching.”
He entered the art room, me on his heels, breathing in the aroma of his cologne.
“Yeah, teachers need a lot of that.” I peeled off my coat, taking care not to jar the little gift in my pocket. When I’d seen it online, it had seemed the perfect present for a guy who made me feel lighter than a dandelion blow, but now it was time to maybe hand it over, it felt stupid. Overly emotional. Feminine. Gay. Fag.
Ah,therewas Dad. He’d been silent for a few weeks. Probably a combination of the meds, sitting with Dr. Quackers three times a week, and coming here to paint blobs and birds and long-dead cats. I’d not missed him in my head.
“Sometimes, yes, we do.” He chuckled warmly. I turned to find him leaning on the edge of the old metal desk, his eyes glowing with the love he had for his profession. “Teaching is a calling. We’re not getting rich. It’s getting to know your students and their families and leading them in a direction for enrichment. It’s way more than getting your class to learn their ABCs and one, two, threes. You have to listen to the subtle hints they give you to help them blossom and learn to the best of their abilities.”
“Wish I had a teacher who had listened,” I mumbled, lost in his beauty. When his expression shifted from affection to concern, I bit the inside of my cheek. Stupid. “But I had good coaches. Lots of them.”
“Good, that’s good. I’m glad you had such admirable adults to help teach you.” He seemed a little flustered now, probably because I was as well. I tended to project hostility when I got upset, according to several dozen people.
“Yeah, so, uhm… ” I now hated the fact we were here alone. Just a few minutes ago, I was glad to have all of his attention. Shit, I was touching snowflakes on his little button nose. Now, I wanted to dive through the window. “So, yeah, I think we should get some of those donuts with the fancy holiday icing on them tonight.”
He blinked. “Oh, donuts, yes, that would be nice. I’m hoping to do a holiday-themed class tonight with lots of seasonal colors and frivolity. Maybe paint some toys from our childhoods that we remember fondly.”
“My toys were all misfits,” I tossed out, hoping for a laugh. Finn seemed confused. “Like that old Rudolph show with the island filled with toys that no kids wanted?”
“Oh yes, of course. I always loved that little elf who dreamed of being a dentist.”
“I liked Bumble.”
He snickered as he looked up at me. I liked the way the lines around his hazel eyes crinkled when he smiled.
