Chapter 4
Anything for Our Favorite Teacher
It’s too early.
Sitting in my car in the parking lot at a quarter to seven, I squinted over to the pop-up tent Blake was struggling to put up by himself.
I should really go help him.
Taking the last swig of my coffee, I fought back the urge to drive away. It was hotter than hell outside, and all I wanted to be doing was sleeping for a few more hours then sipping mimosas with my girls as planned.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Blake called out as I trudged across the pavement over to the staging area.
He already had buckets, sponges, soap, rags, towels, and hoses set out off the back of what I assumed was his large pickup truck.
“So early.” I groaned as I realized he was one of those morning people I had heard lore about.
He clicked in the last leg of the tent before shoving a white pastry box in my face. “Donuts, as promised.”
I shoved the sweet-smelling treats away from me. “Please tell me you brought coffee.”
He handed me a thermos and a paper cup. “This isn’t my first rodeo.”
“Where is everyone?” I asked while filling up my cup to the brim.
“They won’t be here for another thirty minutes or so,” he admitted with a cheeky grin plastered on his stubble-ridden face.
I nearly dumped the coffee down his pants. “Excuse me?”
“We need to get everything set up for the kids, don’t we?” As he continued to smile at me, I grew more aggravated. “We don’t want the parents thinking we’re incompetent—or worse, lazy.”
“Aren’t the children supposed to learn that they have to help out when it comes to this stuff?”
In his dark gray shirt, swishy running pants, and tennis shoes that probably cost more than my car, Blake leaned against a folding table holding the cash box. “They’ll still have plenty to do when they get here.”
“Why aren’t the parents helping out with this too?” I grumbled, clutching the steaming java with both of my hands like it was the only lifeline left on the planet.
“Volunteers are very scarce. I was hoping you might have some ideas on that front, actually.” Pulling out two folding chairs, Blake motioned for me to take a seat.
“I don’t think forcing it on them with a mandatory number of hours is the right way to go with this one,” I admitted.
He took the seat next to mine, looking at me while propping his chin up with his hand. “I am open to suggestions.”
“We need to find reasons for them to do it. Just telling them it is important isn’t enough.”
“It should be,” Blake stated as his jaw clenched.
“I couldn’t agree with you more.” I leaned back in my chair, trying to think of some way to get the parents involved.
“It’s just so sad to me that more parents don’t feel like it is vital to be a part of their child’s education.”
It was the first time I saw Blake as a real human and not the annoying, overconfident douche. Maybe I was just too tired to find him as tiresome as usual.
As the parking lot started to fill with parents dropping off their children, I rallied myself to be the cheery teacher my kids expected me to be.
“Good morning, Riley,” I cooed as the towheaded child waved at me while walking up and clutching her father’s hand.
“Morning, Miss Waters.” She flashed me a smile before rushing away to meet her friends, who were struggling to fill the buckets with bubbling water while Blake helped them.