Rhonan reaches down and scoops her up, securing her in his arms as the scowl on his face transforms into a smile. And unfortunately, seeing him with his daughter just makes him that much more attractive.
“Hey, sweetie. Are you having fun?”
She shrugs. “Not really.”
His brows knit. “How come?”
“Because I already know what I want to be when I grow up,” she answers matter-of-factly.
Rhonan chuckles and turns to me. “Oh yes, Ellis is going to be a princess.”
Ellis shakes her head. “I used to want to be a princess, but now I want to be a queen.”
Rhonan draws his eyebrows together. “A queen, huh? Since when?”
“Since Elsa is a queen with ice powers, and Auntie Dilynne told me that queens havemorepower.”
I stifle my laugh behind my hand as Rhonan replies, “She did, did she?”
“Yup.” Then Ellis turns to me. “Or I wanna be a teacher like you, Ms. Lewis.”
My hand falls to the center of my chest as I try not to get emotional. I’ve only known this little girl for three days, but I can already tell she’s going to steal my heart. “Aw, that’s so sweet, Ellis. Thank you.”
“What has Ms. Lewis taught you about being a teacher?” Rhonan asks, drifting his gaze over to me for a second before focusing back on his daughter. I try not to take that look too personally, but for some reason it feels that way.
I may have only been here for three days, but certainly I’ve made some kind of impact on these kids.
Ellis ponders her answers and then shrugs. “She gets to be the boss of the class,andshe’s really pretty. I like to be the boss too.”
My shoulders fall slightly, but I’m also amused. “That’s really sweet, Ellis. Being in charge is fun, but it’s also a lot of responsibility. And you should remember that pretty isn’t a character trait.”
Rhonan and Ellis both stare at me at the same time. “What does that mean?” she asks.
I take a second to consider how to explain this to a five-year-old, because I wish this were something I had learned at a much younger age. “Being pretty is not nearly as important as being kind, inclusive, and hardworking. Being beautiful doesn’t automatically make you a nice person. I hope that when you’re with me, you feel that I’m kind more than anything else.”
I can feel Rhonan watching me, but I keep my focus on Ellis. I don’t think my heart could handle seeing his reaction to words that speak to every woman’s insecurities, including my own.
“You are really nice, Ms. Lewis.” Ellis wiggles out of Rhonan’s arms, and wraps her arms around my legs. When she peers up and meets my eyes, she continues, “But you’re really pretty too.” Glancing back at her dad, she asks, “Isn’t she pretty, Daddy?”
I don’t dare lift my eyes still, but the sound of his voice affects me far more, I fear. “Yes, she is.”
“Ellis! We’re getting ready to leave!” Dilynne shouts across the room, standing next to Laney and Fletcher, and two other men I introduced today that I’m having a hard time remembering the names of.
I let that be the moment I meet Rhonan’s eyes. “I’ll let you go.”
“Come on, Daddy. I want to say goodbye.”
Rhonan keeps his eyes on me but doesn’t say anything. He simply follows his daughter’s lead until he finally breaks our gaze and joins his friends, leaving me standing there, wondering how I’m going to survive the next two and a half months of Rhonan Hart run-ins.
***
By the time I pull into my driveway and turn off the ignition, I can barely remember the drive home. One thing I was woefully unprepared for when I signed up for this job was how overstimulating it would be. The kids are so sweet and for the most part, well-behaved, but there’s never a quiet moment. Questions fly from their mouths at record speed, someone always needs something, and the social dynamics of five-year-olds could rival some soap operas that have been on air for decades.
Needless to say, I’m deeply grateful there’s a bottle of wine in my fridge to help take the edge off and help me process the past twenty-four hours.
“Roscoe!” I call out once I unlock the front door to my rental house and set my purse on the kitchen table. “Mommy’s home!”
Usually, he’s eager to greet me on the other side of the sliding glass door, or already darting through the doggy door that leads to the backyard. But the glass pane is empty except for the streaks from his nose and tongue.
