His che
eks tinged with pink, and I was pleased to have made him blush.
“She’s a great kid. And you’ve been a big help. I don’t want to discount all you’ve done for us. But in terms of marriage … I won’t be doing that again.” He set Maisie’s lunch box on the table and then went to the counter. “Don’t forget your brownies.”
I took the plate from him, noting one or two were missing. I looked at him. “You are a brownie monster.”
“That’s why we don’t normally keep treats in the house. I can’t be trusted around them.”
I laughed.
Maisie returned to the kitchen. “I’m ready.”
“Here’s your lunch, Miss Maisie,” he said handing her the lunch box.
“Did you put grapes? I like them better than apples.”
“I did.” He squatted down to her level. “Now, give me a kiss and go learn something.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, her lunch box making a banging sound on his back. She kissed him. “Don’t forget my party.”
“I’ll be there,” he said standing.
“Come on Maisie,” I said holding out my hand. She trotted to me, taking my hand, and I led her out the door.
I secured Maisie in the booster seat in the backseat of my car and then drove us to school.
“Will you be my teacher next year?” she asked as I pulled into the parking lot of school.
“No, honey, but I know you’ll love whatever teacher you have. I know all the first-grade teachers and they’re great.”
“I wish you would be my teacher.”
I smiled at her through the rear-view mirror. “I wish I could be, too. I still have my own school to finish.”
“You’re too old for school.”
I parked the car. “You’re never too old to learn, Miss Maisie.” I helped her out of the car and walked with her to the classroom. I set the brownies over by the goodies the other kids had brought in as Maisie put her lunch box in her cubby.
That morning, Mrs. Anderson spent circle time reviewing the year with the kids and how much they learned. I led an art project that involved compiling some of the art and work they did throughout the year into a book with a construction paper cover.
After lunch, I put out the goodies while Mrs. Anderson took the kids outside to play.
“Am I early?”
I looked up to see Dylan walking into the classroom. Like always, the sight of him made my breath stall in my chest.
“The kids are at recess but will be back in a few minutes.” I set out paper plates and napkins.
“Can I help?”
“I’m going to run to the teacher’s room to get the drinks. Can I trust you not to eat the yum yums?”
He flashed a sexy smile. “Probably not.”
“I’ll chance it.” I hurried to the teachers lounge to get the juice boxes from the refrigerator and brought them back to the classroom. When I arrived back, the kids were in from their recess, and Dylan had been recruited to read them a story as Mrs. Anderson finished setting up for the party.
“Here are the drinks,” I said as I handed one out to each child.