Rosalie chimes in. “Does she live in a castle?”
“No, but she has a puppy named Roscoe and I get to play with him.”
Chatter breaks out among the kids. “Okay, everyone. Look, we need to finish the story. Eyes on me!” But my words fall on deaf ears.
“And my daddy fixed her shower when it broke, and she ate ice cream with us,” Ellis continues.
Henry comes up to me, pulling on my skirt. “Can you come over to my house and eat ice cream?”
“I have a puppy that your puppy can play with!” Jayden’s little voice cries out.
I finally lift my whistle from around my neck and blow it, not too loud since we are inside, but loud enough that it cuts through the chaos.
The kids reach up and cover their ears with their hands, but Ellis just sits on the carpet, pleased with herself.
“Okay. Look, I know everyone is very excited. Yes, I live next to Ellis, but I am still her teacher. And right now, my job is to read the rest of this story to you. So, can we all stay quiet long enough for me to do that?” The little heads all bob up and down in unison. “Great. Now, where did we leave off?”
Ellis blurts, “We left off where the cricket was talking to the bumblebee.”
Johnny whispers under his breath. “Teacher’s pet.” A few of the other boys giggle.
Ellis turns back to look at them, but when she faces forward again, she visibly deflates. The confidence she had just a few moments ago has almost disappeared, and I hate that she’s suddenly quiet.
I catch her eye and give her a small smile, just for her. “Thank you, Ellis.”
I turn to where we left off inThe Very Quiet Cricketand continue reading.
As I flip through the pages, the story of the cricket begins to resonate with me a bit more. He encounters a flurry of other insects and creatures that all make a sound, but when he tries to rub his own wings together to chirp, nothing happens. Each attempt is feeble, until he finally crosses paths with another cricket—and then he’s able to make a sound.
And then something so silly hits me, but it’s more powerful than I realize—I wonder if I’ll ever find my cricket who lets me be heard.
***
“Daddy, look at how high I can swing!” I’ve barely walked into my backyard, and I can already hear the precious little girl on the other side of the fence.
“Be careful or you’re going to swing to the moon, and I’ll never see you again!” Rhonan’s deep voice rings out as well, and since it’s been a few days since I’ve heard it, my heart starts to beat a bit faster at the sound.
“I don’t want to go to space.” I hear the faint sound of wood chips being kicked up followed by the pitter-patter of tiny footsteps.
It’s about an hour before the sun sets, and I planned on sitting on the patio and cracking open the latest hockey romance release from my favorite romance author to unwind after an eventful day, but as soon as I heard Ellis’s voice, it dawned on me that I should probably speak to Rhonan about what happened today in class.
Now, if only I can manage that conversation without imagining him with his shirt off again.
Last week when his attempt to wash his truck turned into a water fight with his daughter, I tried to look away. My shoulder was crumbling under the weight of my bag and my feet were aching from the heels I now know not to wear when teaching kindergarteners, but I couldn’t stop watching the two of them. The sound of their laughter was the epitome of joy. Their smiles fueled the spread of my own.
But when Rhonan took his shirt off? That sight fueled a different sort of response in my body, one that centered right between my legs where a dull ache has resided ever since that night together.
The man is a walking wet dream—sculpted arms and torso, a chiseled jaw and striking blue eyes, and he wears a uniform, for crying out loud. How on earth is any woman supposed to resist that?
And more importantly, how is he still single?
Not only is he insanely attractive, but he’s a good man—steadfast, brave, loves his daughter but doesn’t let her walk all over him, and he cares about people. After all, he took the time to help me with my shower when I’m sure he had a hundred other things he needed to do with his day off.
I can’t remember the last time a man did something like that for me, and that says something, given the status of my last relationship.
I’m so pissed at myself for all the time I wasted getting here, but at least I’m not wasting any more.
I’m making moves, Lydia. I hope you’re proud of me.
