I shrugged. “I don’t do social media. I prefer getting to know someone face-to-face.”
Lynn tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Huh, that name—Austin Hart—it sounds so familiar. I can’t quite picture it, though.”
Jennie gave me a pointed look, her eyebrows arching like she was onto something. “Oh, come on, you know you’re dying to Google him.”
I held up my hands. “No, no Googling. I like a little mystery. Besides, if it’s meant to be, I’ll find out who he is when I see him again.”
Jennie shook her head in mock disappointment, but there was a twinkle in her eye. “You’re no fun, but I respect the commitment.”
Maura winked. “Fine, but when you do take door duty, you better tell useverything.”
“Deal. But if this turns out to be a total disaster, you’re all to blame.”
The bell rang, and the girls quickly scattered to their respective classrooms. I watched them go, the echo of their laughter lingering in the space around me. The lightness of the moment stayed with me, wrapping around me like a warm hug.
Regardless of what happened with my time out here, this gave me a sense of belonging I hadn’t felt in a long time. It felt like I was finally part of a group of people who connected with me. As I headed back to my classroom, I decided to add something new to my bucket list:Keep the friends I’ve made here.I couldn’t imagine this new chapter of my life without them.
10
austin
I was standing outside, waiting for Evie at the same time as yesterday, but this time the tension left my shoulders when I saw her running down the steps toward me, her face lighting up as she called out my name. She launched into a story about her day, her words spilling out in excited bursts, and I leaned down, listening with a smile, nodding at the right moments.
“... and then we made macaroni art, and mine was thebest!” she declared proudly.
I laughed, ruffling her hair. “Of course it was, kiddo.”
My eyes lingered, scanning the crowd of teachers and parents. After a few moments, it was clear Ms. Honey wasn’t there. A pang of disappointment settled in my chest before I looked down at Evie, forcing a smile. She tugged on my sleeve, demanding my attention.
“That’s awesome, Evie.”
We started walking toward where I’d parked the car, and Evie suddenly stopped in her tracks, her eyes wide. “I forgot my lovie,” she squealed, tugging hard on my leg. “It was bring your lovie to school day, and I left it in my classroom.”
Panic filled her voice, her eyes already welling up as she clung to me. “We need to go back. I won’t be able to sleep without it.”
I nodded quickly, knowing how serious this was for her. “Okay, okay, let’s go and get it,” I said, turning us around and heading in the direction of the school.
Her hand tightened in mine as we made our way, and I could feel her urgency, the need to find her comfort item as soon as possible.
We pushed through the school doors, and as soon as we were inside, Evie took off, her small sneakers slapping against the linoleum as she darted down the hallway. I followed her, watching as she raced ahead. As we neared her classroom, I remembered that Ms. Honey’s class was next door. I paused and turned to look inside, hoping to catch a glimpse of Charlie. Maybe she’d still be there, grading papers or tidying up, but when I looked through the window, the room was empty.
“I’m going to run in and get it really quick!” she said before disappearing through the door, her excitement echoing down the quiet hall.
I smiled, shaking my head, but as I was about to turn toward the classroom, my phone buzzed in my pocket, ringing loudly in the empty space.
I glanced at the screen, my stomach dropping when I saw it was the insurance company. I hesitated for a second, knowing this wasn’t the kind of call I wanted to take, but there was no avoiding it. I answered and stepped to the other side of the hallway, putting some space between me and Evie’s classroom.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Hart, I’ve been caught up on your voicemail and situation. We’ve already granted you the four-month extension, but unfortunately, that’s the limit. We sent a Mrs. Auburn Cole a few letters confirming we cannot extend coverage under herumbrella. You’ll need to find your own coverage.” She paused, then added, “We’ll be sending you rates to your email for private insurance if you’d like to purchase a plan independently.”
I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me, my eyes fixed on the floor as I shuffled my feet. “Alright. Thanks for letting me know.”
I glanced down at my hands, half expecting them to be shaking. But they weren’t. They were steady. I took a deep breath, realizing that, for now, I was okay. I had a few more months to figure things out. It was something.
The woman on the other end of the line asked, “Do you have a spouse or are you engaged? You’d qualify for spousal coverage if so. Otherwise, you’d need to look into a private plan.”
“I’d never get married only because I needed insurance,” I said, shaking my head at the absurdity of it.
