helplessness. “If only Carmody would pay more attention to the children. If he’d just help out now and again financially…” One slender brow arched in irony. “He didn’t do that when we were married. Why would I expect it of him now? Yet my children need their father. I just don’t know what the answer is.”
“Maybe you just keep doing the best you can,” he said.
Her mouth quirked up on one end. “You think I’m doing the best I can, then?”
He blinked, realizing how much he’d revealed by that one less-than-helpful statement, and looked down at his cold cup. “You were thinking of working three jobs maybe?”
She shook her head, smiling at that. “No. Working two jobs and being a mom is definitely all I can handle. Problem is, I have to try to be a dad, too.”
He said it before he thought. “Maybe Cody had the right idea, after all.” His own words knocked Jack back against his seat. “I—I mean, that’s one thing Cody obviously does understand, th-that you can’t do it by yourself. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be trying to find you a husband, and we wouldn’t be here now, would we?”
She cocked her head at that, studied him pointedly for a few moments and said, “I know why I’m here, but I’m not quite certain why you are.”
He was careful to think before he replied this time, and he quickly came up with a number of possibilities. He could say, for instance, that his being here was just part and parcel of his job, that he felt a genuine responsibility for the children who attended his school, that he couldn’t ignore the wordless plea of a troubled little boy. He could even say it was simple courtesy or curiosity or pure happenstance. Instead, he heard himself saying, “Maybe I mean to apply for the position.”
For the longest moment she stared as if frozen. Jack felt the very same way, as if he couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t even think. Then slowly the implications of what he’d said crept over him. He didn’t know this woman! Was he so lonely, so empty, that he’d let a misspelled ad drawn in crayon decide his destiny? Did he need his own family so desperately that he’d settle for merely being needed himself? A deep, bitter sense of shame engulfed him. He felt his face burn hot and closed his eyes. He would’ve bitten his tongue off if it had meant being able to unsay those careless words.
Then suddenly she burst out laughing. Jack stared at her, his mouth open, while the sound of her laughter, so bright and cheerful and healing, built and built. It was rather funny—absurd, in fact. His mouth wobbled; he brushed his mustache with his fingertips to still it, but the smile broke free, and a chuckle followed it. That chuckle felt so good that he gave himself up to it. When the merriment played out, she wiped her eyes and braced her elbows on the tabletop.
“I needed that.”
He nodded, feeling sheepish, as an uneasy new awareness tightened the lines of her face. He glanced at his watch without paying the time any real attention and slid out of the booth. “I’d better pay the check and get you home.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
He made short work of it. Within the minute they were in the car again. She laid her head back and closed her eyes. After a bit he noticed that a smile hovered about her lips. He allowed himself to feel a little gush of pleasure at that. He’d embarrassed himself, but if he’d saved her some embarrassment in the process…well, somehow that was enough.
He brought the car to a stop in front of her house, wondering if he would have to wake her, but she immediately lifted her head and gave him a clear-eyed look.
“I don’t know how to thank you.”
He glanced away, not wanting her to see how that pleased him. “Unnecessary. I’d have done the same for any of my students.”
“I can see that,” she said, smiling warmly. She lifted her hand, Cody’s folded portrait clutched in it. “I’ll try to make him understand that this isn’t a solution.”
He nodded. “Just remember to thank him for trying to help.”
“I will.”
She opened the car door and started to get out, but Jack found that he wasn’t quite prepared to let it end like this. He caught her hand in his, and when she stopped to look back at him, he gently pried the folded paper from her fist.
“I’d like to keep this, if you don’t mind.” He grinned. “I have a kind of collection. Kids have such a funny way of viewing this wacky world of ours, you know, and I find it comforting to remind myself of that from time to time.”
“You keep it then,” she said, and got out of the car.
He resisted the impulse to kill the engine and walk her to her door. It was the gentlemanly thing to do, but not the wisest, perhaps. He wouldn’t want to plant false hope, not after all he’d said, first intimating that she might truly need a husband and then blurting that perhaps he would apply for the position! No, far better to just keep his seat.
She closed the door and backed away, bending a little to look at him through the window and fold her hand in a kind of wave. “Bye.”
“Goodbye.”
He watched her turn and walk across the dusty yard to the stoop. She climbed the steps, opened the door and paused to wave once more before going inside. He slipped the folded crayon drawing into his shirt pocket, then started the car down the street, telling himself it was over. He’d done his duty. It was all anyone could expect of him, all he ought to expect of himself.
But he couldn’t help remembering the way Cody’s face had lighted up when he’d believed that Mr. Tyler was there to court his mother, or the exhaustion and regret in Heller Moore’s eyes when she’d admitted that she couldn’t do it all alone. He couldn’t help thinking, either, that Cody’s conclusion was right, despite his method of trying to solve the problem. She did need someone, someone who would appreciate her strength and determination, her honesty and spunk. Someone who loved and enjoyed kids. Someone who wouldn’t cheat.
He shook his head, surprised at himself. Was he honestly contemplating involvement with Heller Moore? What if he did see her again? Would he find that she wasn’t the woman he thought her to be? Would disappointment lead to regret? He’d been disappointed before, bitterly so. Perhaps he ought to consider that a lesson learned and let well enough alone. Perhaps he ought to find someone with whom he had more in common. Another educator? Yes, that was the kind of woman in whom he should be interested. A safe, sensible, middle-class lady with her life together and time to consider him and his needs. He’d give the matter some serious thought, he promised himself. Someday.
Heller caught the baby by the ankle and pulled him back into the middle of the bed.
“Sit still, Davy,” Cody scolded, shaking a finger at his little brother.
Davy plopped onto his bottom, stuck his tongue out and waggled his head side to side. “Sit, you’se’f!” He fell back, laughing in two-and-a-half-year-old glee.
Cody scowled. “Why don’t you go in the other room, Davy? I’m trying to talk to Mama.”
At the very suggestion of being parted from his mother, Davy lunged up and threw his arms around her neck from the back, crying out, “No-o-o!”
Heller
