corporate vibe wasn’t the only reason she had mixed feelings, though. “He asked me if I worked on Mondays. I work very hard.” Of course, things weren’t as difficult as her first year on the job, when she’d still been trying to figure everything out at once, and the sheer mental effort had left her exhausted at the end of the day. But it still took a lot of organization, energy, and prep work at home.
Jessica gave a dubious shrug. “He was making conversation.”
“He also said he was busy. Like I wasn’t.” Well, maybe he did work long hours, given the fact that he’d been poring over columns of numbers before seven a.m. But still.
“He paid for your order. What else does he have to do, write ‘I’m interested in you’ on a big sign?”
Paige smiled. The truth was, when he’d said That’s very kind of you, and had looked at her like he could see straight through to her soul and appreciated it, Paige had melted. And that had been before he’d paid for the kids’ treats.
Jessica said, “I don’t suppose you got his name and number.” She was already shaking her head at the lost opportunity.
“Just his first name. Dylan.”
“Well, that’s something,” Jessica said. “Does he go to that café a lot?”
“It sounded like it.”
“Great! All you have to do is hang out there in the mornings until you see him again.”
“Because that wouldn’t be pathetic at all,” Paige said…as if she hadn’t considered doing that exact thing. Her ears burned with sudden embarrassment.
Jessica looked up at the clock. “I better go.”
For reading circle time, Paige had picked out a book about a lost dog. “This book has our sight word of the day in it.” She pointed to the word she’d written on the board. “Kind. K-I-N-D. Does anyone know what this word means?”
“It’s like, what kind of cupcake do you want,” Sam burst out. Paige had told him privately about his birthday cupcakes at the beginning of the day, explaining that they’d have them after lunch and he’d be able to choose his favorite flavor first. Sam’s eyes had lit up, and clearly, he hadn’t thought about much else.
“Yes, exactly,” Paige said. “Kind can mean a type of thing. For instance, there are lots of kinds of animals: dogs, cats, and so on.”
“And birds,” someone added.
“Dragons.”
“Dragons aren’t real!”
“But they’re still animals!”
Paige said, “Kind also means something else. It means nice. If we yell at each other, that’s not being kind. But if we share with each other or say nice things to each other, that’s being kind.”
“I shared crayons with Ava yesterday,” Katy said.
“That’s a good example of being kind,” Paige said. One time, when Linda had stopped into her classroom, she’d told Paige she shouldn’t ever let the kids talk unless they raised their hands and Paige called on them. But during circle time, Paige relaxed things a little. “Okay, I’m going to read today’s story.”
Clara, a little girl with light brown bobbed hair, raised her hand. Secretly, the girl was Paige’s favorite, although she tried to encourage all of them. Paige asked, “Yes, Clara?”
“Could you read one of your stories instead?”
Several voices assented to this plan. Paige lit up inside. At least somebody liked her writing. The most important somebodies, in fact.
“Miss Reynolds?” Jaden had his hand raised.
“What is it, Jaden?”
“Um, why are stickers sticky?”
Well, he’s got me there. It wasn’t the first time the child had stumped her with a question. He was easily her brightest student, and not particularly good at following directions or staying on topic.
“I’ll get back to you on that,” she told him. She was going to have to do more with science in this class.
Clara raised her hand again. “Yes, Clara,” Paige said.
“Do you have a new story?”
“I’ve started writing a new one,” she admitted. “It’s about a princess who finds a magical cabin in the woods.”
“I wanna hear!” Sam said, bouncing up and down where he sat.
“Stop it!” a girl said. Paige looked over to see Tommy tickling the top of her head.
“Tommy Bradley,” Paige said in her no-nonsense voice. “You know you’re supposed to keep your hands to yourself. You come over here and sit down right next to me.”
“Okay.” He shuffled over to her and sat. Paige dug her journal out of her purse and flipped to the right page. “Here’s a picture I drew of the princess and the cabin,” she told them, holding it up so they could see.
“Why is the house magic?” one of them said.
“You’re a good draw-er,” said another.
Clara raised her hand. Paige asked, “What is it, Clara?”
The little girl’s eyes were wide. “My mom…is a real artist! She had a galley show!”
Paige smiled at her pride. “Get out of town!” She didn’t bother to correct her pronunciation. Hey, a galley show wasn’t such a bad idea. Paintings or photographs hung inside a ship? It might be fun.
Clara’s face crumpled.
Immediately, Paige asked, “Sweetie, what’s wrong?”
“You told me to leave town.”
Oh, no! Paige might’ve laughed if the poor child hadn’t been so distressed. “No, no! I would never want you to leave town! ‘Get out of town’ is just an expression. It means… ‘That’s amazing!’ It’s great that your mom is an artist and had a show.”
“Clara, Miss Reynolds likes you,” the boy next to her said, rolling his eyes.
“That’s right,” Paige said firmly. “Clara, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, and I’m sorry. Do you forgive me?” Children needed to learn forgiveness. She’d even done a weekly unit on it, earlier in the year.
Clara nodded, looking much sunnier.
“Thank you,” Paige said. “How about I read the story now?” Clara nodded again. “‘Once upon a time, there lived a princess who was far away from home. She traveled through a deep, dark wood. Wolves howled. The cold wind blew.’”
