“Good. I’m not mad and I like your friends.”
“ ’Cause after Daisy I can write a letter to you.” He smiled at Brother. “And maybe you think Teacher is pretty.”
Brother opened his mouth but no words came out. Carl Joseph closed his eyes because this might be where Brother got mad. But instead, laughter came from him. Lots of laughter. Carl Joseph opened his eyes. “Brother?”
“How do you know I think your teacher’s pretty?” He leaned in and messed Carl Joseph’s hair.
“ ’Cause your eyes looked at her like . . .” Carl Joseph stopped. Every time he talked about Ali the horse rider, Brother got sad. Brother was laughing now, so he didn’t want to make him sad. He pushed his glasses back up his nose. “ ’Cause your eyes said she was pretty.”
“Well.” Brother stood and took a step away. “You’re right about your teacher. She is pretty. But that doesn’t mean we agree about everything. Okay?”
“Okay, Brother. Except Disneyland. We can agree about Disneyland.”
Brother was still smiling, and his face said he thought Carl Joseph was silly. “We can definitely agree about that.”
“You and me and Daisy.”
“Yes, Buddy.” Brother waved at him. “You and me and Daisy.”
When Brother left, Carl Joseph remembered everything he wanted to say to Daisy. Because he wasn’t afraid anymore about Brother. Brother liked Daisy and that meant no more heart like a drum. But before he started back on the letter, he closed his eyes and folded his hands and talked to God out loud.
“One day, God, please let Brother and me and Daisy and Teacher go to Disneyland together. ’Cause the Magic Kingdom has shortcake and Mickey Mouse and Minnie. And thanks that Brother isn’t mad. So maybe we can all go there. Amen.”
When he opened his eyes, he felt ready for the letter. ’Cause Teacher said it felt good to use life skills. And praying to God was one of the best life skills of all. You could say what you want to God anytime, anywhere. Teacher said that. And talking to God meant God was with you. And sometimes being a grownup was scary. Except with God it was never scary at all.
Even when you had to know all the bus routes in the whole wide world.
Chapter Twelve
Elle couldn’t wait to get Snoopy out on a leash. All afternoon she’d been looking forward to taking her dog to the park up the street. It wasn’t a big park like Antlers. Just a patch of grass in the middle of twenty rows of modest homes. A place where mothers could take their preschoolers and find a swing set and a slide and a set of monkey bars. The park was one of Elle’s favorite places after a long day.
The sunshine from earlier had disappeared behind a layer of clouds, and she was about to find something warmer to wear when her mother approached her.
“You look tired.”
Elle chided herself for not hiding her feelings better. “I’m fine. Just a long day.”
“That’s nearly a whole week of long days.” She frowned. “What’s happening at the center?” Her mother touched her arm, her eyes curious. “You’ve been more tired, quieter.”
Daisy overheard the question. She stepped up and clucked her tongue to the roof of her mouth. “CJ’s brother. He happened this week.”
Their mother wrinkled her nose. “The world-famous bull rider?”
Elle rolled her eyes. “Please, Mother. Don’t feed the fantasy.” She headed for the coat closet and found an old sweater. “I’m taking Snoopy for a walk.”
Her mother stayed on her heels. “So he’s not a bull rider?”
“I don’t know what he is.” Elle looked past her mom. Daisy hadn’t followed them. “The guy shows up Monday morning unannounced, and now he’s a regular fixture at the center.”
“Oh.” Her mom stepped out of her way as she slipped on the sweater and moved back toward the kitchen. “Is he curious?”
“No.” She stopped and looked at her mom. After being calm and gentle with her students all day, she didn’t have the patience for this. Even so, her mother didn’t know what was happening with Cody Gunner, and Elle couldn’t blame her for being curious. She exhaled and tried to explain the situation better. “He wants Carl Joseph removed from the center. That’s his bottom line.” She leaned against the nearest wall. Everything about Carl Joseph’s brother made her feel worn-out.
“Why on earth?” Her mother’s expression told the story. She couldn’t fathom someone opposed to independence for people with Down Syndrome. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. He thinks that Carl Joseph is safer and happier at home, that because of his epilepsy and heart disease, we’re filling his head with impossible ideas. That sort of thing.”
“Oh.” She wrinkled her brow. “Of course it’s up to Carl Joseph’s parents.”
“Since his diagnosis, they’re unsure, too. Cody’s opinion could be enough to sway them.”
“I see.” Her mother looked into the next room, where Daisy was sitting in a weathered old recliner. She was reading Heidi for the third time. “Regardless of his health, I can’t imagine standing in the way of someone with Down Syndrome. Not when there are so many options for them now.”
“I know. Me, either.” Elle leaned in and kissed her mother’s cheek. “Let’s talk about it later. I need to get out.”
“Okay.” Her mom patted her arm. “I’m sorry, Elle. You don’t deserve that.”
“I just wish he didn’t make me doubt myself.” She gave her mother a tired smile. “It feels like I’m spending my time defending myself, instead of getting my students closer to their goal.”
“It’ll pass.”
“I know.” She pulled Snoopy’s leash from a drawer in the kitchen and headed for the door. Their small house was one of hundreds in this part of Colorado Springs. It was the best they could do with the money from the sale of the old house, and it was cozy. More than they needed. She smiled at her mother. “I’ll be back in an hour.”
The moment she stepped outside, she felt her mind begin to clear. She walked more slowly than usual and studied the new leaves on the branches of the trees that lined the street. Colorado Springs didn’t have many deciduous trees, but this neighborhood’s developers had seen to it that there were at least a few mixed in between the common evergreens.
She took in a long breath and walked a little taller. Cody Gunner had been driving her crazy this past week, between his wary glances and his subtle smiles. He wasn’t critical or mean, exactly. But his scrutiny exhausted her. Once in a while, for a brief moment at a time over the past several days, she would catch herself watching him, admiring his strong jaw and intense eyes, or the way his broad back tapered down to his waist.
Each time she would turn away, angry with herself. He was married. That she would find him attractive was appalling.
No, she definitely couldn’t be attracted to Carl Joseph’s brother. But now that she was outside, now that the cool evening breeze played against her face and the smell of jasmine filled her senses, she had to be honest. Her attraction to him was part of the problem.
Not only did she want him to finish the week convinced that her work at the ILC was necessary and important, and that it was the right place for Carl Joseph, but she wanted him to go back to whatever he used to do with his days. Go back home to his wife and leave the educating to her. She spotted another dog owner across the street. They nodded to each other and Snoopy looked up and whined.
“I know . . . you want to play.” She stopped and patted the old beagle’s head. “Too bad, Snoopy. We have ground to cover.”
At the end of the street, Elle turned right. The park was just three blocks up on the left. It was impossible to think about Cody Gunner and not let her mind wander back to where the damage had been done. If things hadn’t fallen apart, she would be into her fourth year of marriage, maybe talking about having children or buying a first home.
She narrowed her eyes and tried to fight the memories. But then, in a rush, they came at her with a gale force and she could do nothing to
hold them off. It wasn’t as if she thought about the past every day. For the most part she could live without thinking about it. But once in a while it helped to go back. The memories reminded her of why she was the way she was, why she had no intention of trusting love again unless God, Himself, brought the right person into her life.
Anyway, Elle wasn’t waiting around. It was better to keep existing, keep following her passion for helping her students, keep playing Scrabble with her mother. That way no one could ever hurt her the way she’d been hurt that terrible spring.
She looked ahead as she walked, but she no longer saw the cars passing by or the budding trees or even the park. She was seeing all the way back to the beginning.
His name was Trace Canton, and he was the principal at Pinewood Elementary where Elle received her first teaching job. She was just out of college at Colorado University and she’d taken an apartment not far from campus. She applied to four schools—all in separate districts—and Pinewood was the first to offer her a job.
The ironic thing was she didn’t meet Trace until after she was hired. He was on vacation during the hiring process, so the assistant principal and the district superintendent had made the decision without him.
That fall she was hanging posters in her classroom when she felt someone watching her. She turned and jumped. “Oh, sorry.” There was a man standing in the doorway, and not just any man. He wore designer slacks and a button-down silk shirt. He wasn’t built like the guys she’d dated in college. He had the slender frame of a model—like someone who had stepped out of the pages of GQ magazine. Elle set the poster down on the desk and cleared her throat. “I didn’t know you were there.”
“Don’t mind me.” Trace smiled at her, and that simple smile cut straight to her heart. “I wanted to get a look at your classroom, that’s all.”
Elle figured the guy was the father of one of her students. “Did someone in the office tell you about Back-to-School Night this Friday?” She glanced at his hand, his ring finger. It was bare.
He chuckled and took a few steps into her classroom. “I’ll be there.”
She was flustered by his confidence. He acted as if he owned the place, and suddenly she wondered. Should she be nervous? Was he some psycho who had stumbled into her classroom off the street? She took a step back. “Excuse me, I didn’t get your name.”
“Trace.” He stopped a few feet from her and grinned. “Most everyone around here knows me as Mr. Canton.”
Elle was mortified. She could’ve slithered under the carpet and wormed her way to the parking lot. How could she have missed that this was the principal? She felt her cheeks grow hot. “I didn’t . . . I had no idea that . . . I guess I haven’t . . .” She sat on the edge of her desk and made an exasperated sound. “I’m sorry.” She shrugged and gave him a crooked grin. “I didn’t know you were back.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He pressed his shoulder into the wall and studied her. “Everyone in the office tells me you’re beyond dedicated.” He surveyed the room. “I wanted to see for myself.”
It took that long for Elle to catch her breath. “Well”—she waved her hand at the walls, at the work she’d already done—“what do you think?”
“I think the staff is right.” He cocked his head and held her eyes. “Welcome to Pinewood, Ms. Dalton. I’m sure you’ll fit in very nicely.” He nodded at her and turned to leave. He stopped at the door and looked at her again. “Oh, and I’ll make a point of stopping in on Back-to-School Night.” He grinned, and then he was gone.
That visit was the first of many.
It was an unspoken rule that there would be no fraternizing between staff members. Two of the teachers were married to each other, but that was the exception, not the rule. Still, Elle felt a connection between herself and the principal every time they were together. A month into the school year, she found the courage to mention him to one of the old-timers, a teacher who had been there since before Trace Canton arrived at Pinewood.
“What’s his story? He doesn’t have a wedding ring.” They were in the teachers’ lounge, so Elle kept her voice low.
“No one knows.” The older woman gave Elle a curious look. “He’s a looker; everyone can see that. But in the five years he’s been here, no one has learned a thing about his private life.”
“Strange.” She kept her comments casual. She didn’t want to appear too interested.
“Want the rumor?” The teacher looked around. When she was sure there was no one else around she lowered her voice. “People say he’s gay. That would explain a lot.”
“Gay?” Elle felt her stomach drop. That wasn’t possible, was it? Not based on the way he looked at her. Even so, it gave her a reason to keep her distance. If he wasn’t interested in her, then she wouldn’t make a fool of herself by talking to him more than was absolutely necessary.
Over the next few months, Elle stayed away from Trace Canton. Better to learn more about him from afar than to put herself at risk for humiliation.
Just before Christmas break, Trace found her alone in her classroom. “Is it true you’re reading the Nativity to your children?”
Elle taught a second-grade class. She was working at her desk but she set her pen down to give him her full attention. “Yes, sir.”
“Please”—he smiled at her—“don’t call me sir. It makes me feel old.”
“Okay.” She swallowed and glanced at her desk, at a stack of papers her students were to color the next day. Each one had a picture of Mary and Joseph and the manger, with an enormous star overhead. She looked back at Trace. “Yes, I’m reading them the Nativity story. I researched it with the district. We’re allowed to talk about religious holidays, right?”
“Definitely.” He walked up to the desk and sat on the edge of one of the student tables. “I’m not upset, Ms. Dalton. I admire your determination.” He crossed his arms. Whatever cologne he was wearing, it made her knees feel weak. “I’m a Christian. The day we lose the meaning of Christmas in our public schools will be a sad one, indeed.”
She could barely find the wherewithal to speak. “Yes. Indeed.”
Before he left her classroom that day, he took his time examining her wall of papers and posters. She returned to her work, preparing the blackboard for the next day’s lessons. When she turned around, she caught him looking at her, his eyes glancing at the length of her. In the same heartbeat, he refocused and held her gaze a little longer than necessary. “You impress me, Ms. Dalton.” He headed for the door, but stopped and spoke the next words straight to her soul. “More than you know.”
When he left that afternoon, she was convinced of two things. First, there was something special developing between her and the principal—however complicated that might be. And second, the man was not gay. He was a Christian, after all.
The rest of the school year was made up of a series of casual meetings and conversations between them, none of which Elle sought. Once he came close to asking her out for coffee, but he stopped himself. At the end of the school year he called her into his office.
“Ms. Dalton, there are some things you need to know.” He was sitting at his desk, and he looked broken. The confidence he carried as he strolled the halls of Pinewood was completely missing.
Her heart skipped a beat, and then slid into a strange rhythm. Was this where he would bare his deepest secrets? Was the old teacher in the lunchroom that day right about him, despite everything she’d come to believe? She sat forward and folded her hands. “Okay.”
“First”—he adjusted his tie and glanced at the door. He looked so nervous she felt sorry for him. “First, my role as principal of this school is one I take very seriously. My plan has always been to work here for ten years and then move into the district office. It’s my dream, and I wouldn’t harm that dream for anything in the world. Education has been my life since I entered college. It’s left me no time to pursue anything personal.”
Elle had no idea where he was headed with this. “
I see,” she said, simply because it seemed right for her to answer somehow.
He rested his forearms on his desk and slumped his shoulders forward. His eyes met hers and he looked tormented. “Second, I’ve developed feelings for you, Ms. Dalton. Feelings that go”—he looked down for a moment and then back at her—“far beyond my admiration for you as a teacher.”
Relief spilled into her veins, and her heart found its normal beat again. Trace Canton was not gay. She didn’t break eye contact with him. “Really?”
“Yes.” He laughed, and it relieved much of the tension between them. “Whew.” He shook his head. “That’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever said.”
“I . . .” She felt shy now that his intentions were clear. “I sort of wondered. I mean, I guess I hoped you might feel something for me.”
His eyes danced as he realized what she was saying. But just as quickly, he grew serious again. “The trouble is, it would be completely inappropriate for me to ask you out, for us to see each other given our current working relationship.”
“I agree.” The palms of her hands were damp. “It’s one thing for teachers to date. But you’re my boss.”
“Exactly.” He slid a document across his desk. “Look at this. It’s a request to have you transferred to Barrett Elementary three miles west of here. It’s the same district, but it would allow us . . .” He paused, and she could hear a tremble in his voice. “It would allow me to do what I’ve wanted to do since the day I met you.”
Elle could hardly believe her good fortune.
All along, she’d been telling her mother about Trace, how he was a cheerful man, great with the kids, but how his private life was a mystery. Now, though, the mystery was solved. Trace had been so caught up in education and working his way into the role of principal that he hadn’t had time to date. No wonder he was single.
Elle accepted the transfer the next day, and when school let out for summer, she and Trace went to dinner. That night, for the first time, he called her by her given name as he opened her car door for her. “You look beautiful, Elle.” Before she climbed in, their eyes held. “I’ve wanted to call you that since September.”