And pregnant.
“Our relationship is...complicated, but it doesn’t change the way I feel about her.”
Debbie’s expression softened. “You really care about her, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“Then I hope you’re happy.” She turned away, then turned back. “I hope she deserves you, Robert.”
“Thank you, Debbie, but it’s the other way around. I hope I can be worthy of her.”
And Robert meant it. He needed to reclaim Jessie’s heart and convince her to take a chance on him again.
* * *
Jessie droppedinto the chair behind her desk in her classroom.
Her classroom.
I’m a teacher.
It still felt surreal to Jessie. But she’d survived her second week, and it had gone even smoother than the first. She’d only gotten a month’s worth of lesson plans organized last weekend, but the more she taught, the more ideas came to her and the more she enjoyed it.
“Hey, Ms. Jessie.” Tall, slender, ginger-haired Savannah Reed stepped into the classroom. “I forgot my cell phone.”
Jessie’s head jerked up. She still hadn’t gotten used to being called Ms. Jessie. Even though that’s what she’d asked the kids to call her.
She smiled at Savanna as she got to her feet. Jessie had enjoyed teaching this gifted girl some simple techniques that took her artwork to the next level.
“Yeah, you don’t want to forget that. It would make for a very boring weekend if your friends couldn’t get a hold of you.”
“Oh, I don’t really have that many friends.” Savannah shrugged. “I need a phone so I can check in with my dad after I get my brothers from the elementary school.”
Not that many friends.Savannah reminded Jessie of herself when she first moved to Providence.
“Oh, does your dad work late often?” To get to know her students, Jessie struck up conversations with them as often as possible.
“Most days.” Savannah shrugged. “He likes to be there to get us off to school, but that means he doesn’t get home until seven or sometimes later.”
No wonder she didn’t have many friends if she had to tend her brothers every day.
“Does your mom work, too?”
Savannah looked down at her feet. “She’s not around, anymore.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Savannah.” Jessie stepped a little closer to the girl. “My Dad walked out on us when I was sixteen. It’s tough.”
Savannah looked at Jessie as though trying to decide whether to believe her before nodding.
People always said, “I know how you feel,” but very few had ever experienced the crushing belief that if they had just been a better child, dad—or mom—wouldn’t have left.
Savannah stepped toward the door. “I better go or I’m going to be late.”
“Savannah, I want you to know my door is always open...if you ever need anything.”
“Thanks, Ms. Jessie.” She stepped out the door, then hurried back into the room. “By the way, I’m glad you’re our teacher. I mean, I feel bad about Mr. White, but I think you’re doing a fantastic job.”
“Thank you, Savannah. I feel bad about Mr. White too. And I’m glad I get to be your teacher as well.” Warmth filled Jessie’s chest as she said the words. She meant them. Every word. More than she ever thought she would after only two weeks of teaching.
