“I can’t argue with that.”
She stole a glimpse at the clock on the wall. “I better run before the parents think no one is showing up.”
“Thank you for filling in on short notice. I appreciate it.”
“Anytime.” Phoebe left the welcome desk and went downstairs to the classrooms.
For the next hour, she taught—attempted to teach—a group of twenty first-grade students. She wiped noses, took prayer requests about sick fish and scraped knees, and told them Joseph’s amazing story of suffering and forgiveness.
Once all the children’s parents had picked them up, Phoebe put away the crayons and straightened up the room. She went upstairs and dropped the curriculum guide to Mrs. Beverly at the welcome desk.
She walked into the sanctuary and scanned the pews for her family. It took her a minute to realize something was off. Her heart dropped to her chest when she realized excited murmurs circled the sanctuary and all eyes stared at the pews on the left.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she promised herself she wouldn’t look. She already knew by the church’s reaction that Deena had shown up. Was it possible for her to walk to her family with her eyes closed? Reluctantly she opened them, and against her better judgment, looked Deena’s way.
Immediately she wished she hadn’t. All her good intentions and the progress she’d made were swept away when she saw Deena and Mac sitting together. Close. Shoulders touching. Laughing.
Unlike Friday night, she couldn’t turn around and leave.
Trixie came up beside her and slipped an arm through hers. Sympathy dotted her face. “Would you mind sitting up front and helping me with the youth today?”
“Bless you,” she whispered in her sister’s ear. The youth didn’t need extra supervision, but it placed her in the front pews where she couldn’t easily look at Mac and Deena.
Chapter Six
Mac sat at his desk while his students watched a documentary on the early exploration of North America. He rarely used media to supplement teaching, but this video was done well. It was one of his favorites that he’d watched multiple times.
A movement in the air caught his attention. Someone in the back of the room had thrown a wadded-up piece of paper that hit Keely Martin in the first row. He pinched the bridge of his nose. The combination of sugar highs from last night’s Halloween candy and the anticipation of the season’s first snowstorm had the kids out of control.
“If I see anything else fly through the air, I’ll turn the movie off, and you’ll have to listen to me drone on about the cause-and-effect relationship of European exploration and American colonization.”
The class groaned but settled down.
Two minutes later, someone started tapping their pencil. Within a minute, the entire class joined in impromptu drumming of “We Will Rock You.”
Mac cut the movie off on his laptop, ending the projection onto the screen. He rose from his desk and flipped on the lights. “I warned you.”
“But we were just adding sound effects.”
“Come on, Mr. Banfield.”
He silently laughed at their protests and couldn’t be mad at their behavior. Not every day could be a raging teaching success. Sometimes, he had to be flexible and go with what he had to work with. “Everybody stand up.”
They looked at him with confused expressions but followed directions.
“Now choose a corner.”
“What for?” Trina asked.
“You’ll find out in a minute.”
The kids scuffled from their spots and picked their corners.
“We’re going to see how well you’ve listened.” He numbered their corners and grinned at their wide-eyed looks of dismay. “Each corner will represent an explorer we’ve studied. If you can tell me one fact about them, you get to sit down and won’t have homework tonight.”
The prospective reward made his students cheer.Let’s see how well they do. Despite their distracted behavior today, Mac had faith his students would make him proud.
“Corner three, you’re up first. Give me what you know about Francisco Vázquez de Coronado.”
