a message requesting this meeting.
Then she glanced at the large clock just over her desk. “Is it that time already?”
“That time and then some,” Jared said, finally figuring out who was sitting with Beth. Hmm, she didn’t have a child in Beth’s class. Had something else happened between Caleb and Cassidy?
His future sister-in-law didn’t even blink, just nonchalantly walked over to where Jared stood. “Sorry, I was looking at pictures of wedding dresses and time got away from me. You know Maggie, right?”
“Away from us,” Maggie Tate agreed as she closed magazines and reached for some loose pictures, “and, yes, we’ve met.”
When Jared didn’t respond, didn’t say that keeping him waiting was okay, Beth grinned. She was getting entirely too good at teasing him. He could blame the fact that she was about to become his sister-in-law, but truth was, he’d known her most of his life. This time, she simply told him something he already knew. “Patience is a virtue.”
“Whoever coined that phrase wasn’t a single father of three with a farm to run,” Jared retorted.
“And I didn’t realize that you were standing outside waiting for Beth.” Maggie finished loading the papers into a canvas bag and made her way to the door. Jared couldn’t help but think her small frame looked right at home in the five-year-old wonderland of kindergarten.
His mouth went dry, and the annoyance he felt at being kept waiting almost vanished.
Almost.
Then, the young woman, her eyes twinkling, spoke again. “Patience is a virtue, have it if you can. Seldom found in a woman. Never in a man.”
Beth clapped her hands, clearly pleased that someone else shared the same opinion.
All Jared could think was, great, another female with a proverb. The only sayings he knew by heart were the ones his father said, and they were more advice than quips. Jared’s personal favorite: always plow around a stump.
He doubted the women would appreciate his contribution.
“Maggie’s helping me find my wedding dress,” Beth said.
“You’re a wedding planner, too?” Jared asked, forcing his gaze from Maggie’s deep green eyes. He had no time for a pretty face. And he was more than annoyed.
“Wedding planner?” Beth looked confused.
“I’m willing to add that to my list of occupations,” Maggie said. “But, at the moment, no. I’m just a shop owner and seamstress trying to keep a customer happy.”
Her shop, Jared knew, was all about vintage clothing, which explained the red velvet skirt. Who wore red velvet? Maybe Santa. Jared suppressed the smile that threatened to emerge. This woman was as alien to his world as, well, as an alien. Her skirt, tight at the knees, reminded him of one Marilyn Monroe had worn in an old movie he’d watched. She’d topped it with a simple white shirt and wide black belt. It was colder today than it had been on Monday. Maybe that’s why she had on a tiny, red sweater.
She’d freeze going out to the car.
Square-toed boots completed the outfit and kept Jared from admiring her legs the way he’d just admired her figure.
Good.
Frilly city girls made no sense to him.
Plus, she looked like she was ready to assist Santa or something.
“When I finished talking with my daughter’s teacher,” Maggie explained, “I checked to see if Beth happened to be alone. I’d brought some samples for her to look at.” Her voice was louder than Beth’s, stronger, and with an accent he couldn’t quite place, but definitely not Midwestern.
“I need to fetch Cassidy before she thinks I’ve forgotten her.” Maggie carefully slid by Jared, grabbed a coat from on top of a student’s desk and hurried toward the exit. “I’ll get going and let you have your time.”
“See if you can find me something like the first one we looked at,” Beth called.
Jared didn’t say anything, just held open the door so Maggie could exit gracefully.
“I really am sorry,” Beth said. “Time got away from me. And I do need to talk with you.”
Jared folded himself into the small orange chair Maggie’d just vacated. A fragrance that didn’t belong to five-year-olds or their teacher lingered—that jasmine smell again. He waited while Beth went to her desk and rummaged through a stack of papers.
Jared did his best not to hurry her. Unfortunately, the seconds ticked on and Jared started imagining all the suggestions she had for him. She probably wanted him to work with Caleb more. Jared got that, and would love suggestions, especially when it came to time management and incentives.
He stared at a bulletin board with a group of Christmas trees, stickers acting as ornaments, all bearing the names of Caleb’s classmates.
Caleb’s ornament read C-A-B. The B looked ready to fall down. Jared’s youngest son hadn’t bothered with the L or the E.
“Caleb behaving? I’ve asked him every day since Monday. He claims his light’s been green.”
Jared understood the traffic light system. Green meant Go, everything good. Yellow meant Pause, we need to think about this day and perhaps discuss how it could have been a bit better. Red meant no television, or no video games, or no LEGO bricks, depending on which kid decided not to obey the rules.
Beth didn’t answer, but finally found whatever she was looking for and came to sit down with Jared. She laid a few papers in front of him. “Caleb is trying very hard to behave but he complains a lot about his stomach hurting. He asks to go to the bathroom often.”
“He does that at home, too,” Jared admitted.
“Behavior is not why I called.”
She took a breath, and suddenly Jared got worried.
“It’s still very early,” Beth said softly, “and maybe if I hadn’t been around since Caleb was born, I’d wait. But, the music and PE teacher have both come to me with concerns, also. Jared, it’s not that he’s misbehaving, but he’s having trouble focusing, not just your typical trouble, either. Caleb can’t wait his turn, he bursts out with answers and he’s unable to sit long enough to complete a single paper.”
For a moment, Jared had trouble wrapping his mind around what Beth was saying. Yes, of his three boys, Caleb was the most energetic. Okay, downright wild at times. Jared saw that and somewhat blamed himself. After his wife, Mandy, had died four years ago, Jared had buried himself in the farm. For the first year, he’d walked around in a black fog. The three years that followed were a transitional period. He should have been paying more attention to Caleb.
But Caleb was still very young, only five.
“I think you need to schedule an appointment with your family doctor, see what he thinks. Honestly, Jared,” Beth continued, “I’m hoping it’s just immaturity, but if it’s not, I want to get help now so that first
