Chapter 4
Tara’s first graders were having a blast with the harmonicas. Literally. She laughed at her bad pun as all twenty-eight kids marched along with the train video projected on the screen and blasted their harmonicas along with the train whistle. It was a good first lesson. Nobody was getting overwhelmed or running around blowing air through them willy-nilly.
When class time was up, she had them run a relay where they had to skip across the room, frog-hop back, and drop their harmonicas in the plastic tub by the door.
“Bye, Miss Harris!” they called out as they left.
Tara hurried to get the used harmonicas in the sanitizing solution and pull out the bin of clean ones before her next class arrived. This group was older, and she’d actually be trying to teach them notes using the numbers etched on the top of the harmonicas in the hopes they could learn “Jingle Bells” together. That song was really going to haunt them forever.
The paper snowflake on the bulletin board by the door had a large rip in it thanks to one enthusiastic little boy on his way in earlier. She grabbed her stapler off her desk and went to do some repairs as her fourth-grade class trickled in.
They immediately spied the harmonicas on her desk and started talking excitedly to one another. Tara put her stapler away and held up the bin, moving it around until everyone’s eyes were following it. “You probably know the rules I have for these. Anyone want to guess?”
She called on a kid in the back row with his hand raised. “Don’t start blowing on them the second you hand them out?”
“Correct. Because that’s what I’d want to do if someone handed me one, right?”
A few kids giggled.
“My other rule is no swapping once your mouth goes on it. Because… gross.”
She loved the looks she got in return on that one.
“And because I know it’s really hard to keep them quiet while I’m talking, I’m going to reward anyone who puts in real effort. Like, if you accidentally keep playing and then stop as soon as you realize I need quiet, we’re good. If you stick your tongue out at me and play a solo while I’m teaching, you’ve lost your chance to pick from the prize box. Everyone understand?”
They were very familiar with her well-stocked prize box, and everyone nodded. With the lectures out of the way, she handed one instrument to each kid. After demonstrating how to hold their lips over the instrument and blow through it, she gave them several minutes of free play. It was beautiful chaos. The definition of cacophony.
By the end of the lesson, they could play something almost recognizable. It had been fun, but her ears and head were ready to be done for the day. Just a half-hour more and then she could go home. She herded them out the door, cleaned up, and gathered her things to go out to do parent pickup duty at the curb.
Jill came over and put her arm around Tara. “I have bad news. I can’t go to Amelia’s Christmas party tonight.”
Tara frowned. If Derek showed up, and there was a good chance he would, Tara would need moral support. “Why not?”
“I have to babysit for my sister and brother-in-law. Their sitter cancelled and they haven’t had a date night in months. She was in tears. I couldn’t tell her I had plans. I’m sorry.”
“I get it. It’s okay.”
“Will you still go?” Jill whispered.
“I don’t know. I promised Amelia I’d come. She offered to not have Derek there, but I couldn’t let her do that. He’s her brother.”
“Maybe just stop in and say hi and then leave.”
Cars were beginning to pull in, and Tara waved them forward. Getting people to move through the line was like herding sheep.
“Aunt Sandy’s invited, too. You two were supposed to be my wingmen. Now I’m back to looking like Aunt Sandy’s my sidekick everywhere I go. Monica called her my date when she saw us at that parade the other night.”
“Monica’s a horrible witch. Don’t listen to her.” Jill got the attention of one of the sixth graders whose mom was waiting. “I really wish I could see a Sandy versus Derek showdown though. What’s she going to say to him?”
“I have a feeling Derek will avoid us both at all costs, and I’m totally okay with that.”
“I really am sorry I can’t go tonight.”
Tara smiled at her friend. “Don’t feel sorry for me. Feel sorry for you. Isn’t this the sister with the twins who throw things and bite?”
Jill nodded. “True. Let’s feel sorry for me.”
They laughed and went back to herding students into cars. There would be time for Tara to fret about the party later.
