Chapter 8

8

ROAN

A week later, I found myself standing in the back of the cafeteria at Rafe's school, waiting for the parent volunteer meeting to begin. The place was buzzing with parents, all loitering about, probably feeling as out of place as I did. Some of the moms were gossiping about some situation with another mom. I watched them holding their Stanley mugs and wearing yoga pants. It was such a stark contrast to the corporate world I was familiar with.

I glanced around, trying to look occupied, but my mind kept drifting back to the email I'd received from Alaina about the meeting. It was a mass email, of course, which disappointed me. Somewhere deep down, I had hoped for a more personal message, one that showed she had been thinking about me.

I kind of missed the little, short, blurted messages. I liked that she challenged me. I liked that she didn't seem intimidated by me. She was all about doing what was right for Rafe. I shook off those feelings and leaned against the wall, checking my watch. She was running two minutes late. I hated tardiness. I hoped Rafe didn't pick up on that bad habit.

Finally, Alaina appeared with a few other teachers in tow. She began the meeting with her usual enthusiasm, discussing the upcoming fall festival. I found myself captivated by her. By the way she talked so animatedly.

She spoke with an engaging energy, passionate about hosting a great event for the kids. It was her first year at the school and she had volunteered to run the fall festival. That was a lot of pressure for a first-year teacher. She was going all out.

Alaina moved around the makeshift podium, doing her best to keep the attention of a group of parents who were more interested in gossiping and making weekend plans. She spoke to parents the way she spoke to the kids.

She continued politely fielding questions, always bringing the conversation back to the festival and how it would benefit the kids. I admired that about her. Despite the trivial distractions, she remained committed to providing a meaningful experience for her students.

I found myself listening intently, not just to what she was saying but how she said it. There was a melodic rhythm to her voice that I found strangely calming. As the meeting went on, I started to understand why Rafe was so fond of her. He'd come home speaking enthusiastically about Ms. Callaway and the fun class activities she always had for them.

While she spoke, I noticed a guy next to me, probably in his mid-forties, with a beer gut and a friendly, if not overly chatty, demeanor.

"Hey, I'm Kyle Klein," he said, extending his hand. I shook it, more out of politeness than interest. "Got roped into this by the ex-wife. She's off on some yoga retreat next weekend and told the school I'd volunteer instead. Just another way for her to screw me over."

I just nodded, hoping my lack of enthusiasm would be a hint for him to stop talking, but Kyle either didn't notice or didn't care. He kept jabbering on about his kids, his ex, and how he couldn't believe he was stuck here.

"Who can though, right?" he said with a laugh, slapping my arm.

I resisted the urge to step back, maintaining a polite but distant expression. I had no idea what he was talking about, nor did I care. I wanted him to go away.

"How long have you been married?"

"Long enough," I replied.

He laughed. "I hear you. I'm telling you, my wife walking out on me was the best damn thing to ever happen. I don't have to worry about shit. There's no nag barking at me to fix stuff or pick up my dirty socks."

I simply nodded, hoping that minimal responses would deter Kyle from continuing his tirade. At this point, I could barely hear Alaina over the sound of this man's incessant chatter. She was now explaining how the festival proceeds would be used to fund future school trips and extracurricular activities. I strained to hear her as she outlined the points, but Kyle seemed determined to recount every detail of his questionable personal life.

"You should join our poker nights," he was saying, droning on about the group of divorced dads who met up once a week for a night of cards and complaining—and probably Russian roulette, considering how pathetic they all sounded.

I had never been less interested in anything. I was here for Rafe and to support his academic journey, nothing more.

"If that's something you're into…" He left the offer hanging in the air.

"It is not," I replied curtly.

That didn't stop him from moving on to another subject. My attention shifted back to Alaina. She smiled while she spoke, her mouth moving in a way that was captivating. She had this energy about her that seemed to light up the room. I caught myself staring, completely zoning out from Kyle's monologue.

"So, what about you?" Kyle's voice cut through my thoughts. "Did your wife rope you into this too?"

I shrugged, not wanting to get into the details of my life with a virtual stranger. "Just here to help," I said, hoping that would suffice.

Kyle laughed, missing my disinterest entirely. "Yeah, right. I bet it's more about getting a look at Ms. Callaway, huh? Man, she's hot. I'm gonna volunteer as much as I can just to be around her. Look at that ass. That's more than a handful. That is a woman all curvy and soft. I could see myself between those thick thighs."

An instantaneous surge of anger washed over me as he spoke, objectifying Alaina. His crude words hung in the air. My fists clenched involuntarily. A flash of violent images flooded my mind, each one ending with Kyle sprawled out on the cafeteria tile. But I reined in my temper. "Watch your mouth," I said quietly, my voice cold as steel.

Kyle seemed surprised by my sudden sternness but quickly masked it with a smirk. "Oh, hit a nerve there?"

I stared at him directly. "This is a school, you sicko. And that woman is trying to give your child a fun evening and to raise money for him. Show a little respect, or at least keep your gross thoughts to yourself."

He held up his hands defensively, taken aback by my rebuke. "Alright, calm down. Just a bit of fun."

"Nothing fun about disrespecting women," I retorted sharply.

I felt a flash of anger. Who the hell was this guy to talk about Alaina like that? My jaw clenched, but before I could do anything more, Rafe ran up to me, tears streaming down his face.

"Dad!" he cried, holding up his hand.

Panic ripped through me. "What's wrong?" I asked, squatting down in front of him. "Are you okay?"

His finger was red and starting to swell. "I got my finger smashed in the door," he said with a sniffle.

I immediately forgot about Kyle's filthy mind and the meeting. All my attention was on Rafe. I carefully took his hand, trying to assess the damage, but it was chaos around us. Parents were milling about while the meeting was breaking up.

"Let's get you to the nurse," I said, but before I could stand, Alaina was there.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice calm and soothing. She took one look at Rafe's finger and nodded. "Come on, let's go to my classroom. I have a first-aid kit and ice."

We followed her, weaving through the crowd. Alaina led us to her classroom, where she quickly and efficiently started tending to Rafe's finger.

"Goodness," she said. "You really mashed it, didn't you?"

Rafe nodded, his small face scrunching up and turning red. Alaina wrapped some ice from her fridge in a soft towel.

"It's going to sting a bit, Rafe," she warned him as she gently pressed it to his swollen finger. His immediate gasp was loud, but he didn't pull away. He sat there bravely, his big eyes never leaving Alaina's face.

It was quiet for a while, save for Rafe's stifled sniffles and the soft hum of Alaina's little fridge. In that calmness, I watched her work with a gentleness that bordered on motherly. Her touch was kind and patient. There was something inherently comforting about her presence.

For both of us. I hated seeing my kid hurt or sad. It made me want to go caveman. But she made it all better with a soft touch and sweet words.

"There you go." Alaina smiled. "It's going to throb a bit, but it will feel better soon. Just be careful next time, okay?"

Rafe, usually so shy and reserved, seemed to melt under her attention, a small smile replacing his tears. Rafe nodded, looking at her with admiration. "Thanks, Ms. C."

Maybe I had judged her too quickly. I thought she was a bit of a fruitcake, but every time I spent a few minutes with her, I realized she was a legitimately nice person. How sad was it I had never met a genuinely nice person and was completely thrown off by someone that was?

"Are you alright, Roan?" Alaina asked, her eyes meeting mine. "Would you also like some ice?"

I smiled, but honestly, I wasn't sure. I'd never felt this off-kilter before. "I'm fine. Just, thanks for helping him. I appreciate it. You're a real pro."

She smiled, that same captivating smile that seemed to light up the room. "It's no problem. He's a great kid. These things happen. Thankfully, it didn't cut him or break his finger."

We stood there for a moment, an awkward but not uncomfortable silence between us. I wanted to say more, to somehow convey how grateful I was, but words seemed to fail me.

Finally, I cleared my throat. "So, about the fall festival. I'm not exactly sure what I signed up for."

Alaina laughed softly, a musical sound that eased some of my tension. "Don't worry. It's mostly just setting up booths, helping with games, things like that. Nothing too strenuous."

"Good," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "I'll be there."

"I'm glad," she said, her smile lingering. "It'll be nice to have you involved. I know Rafe is going to be thrilled to have you."

I looked at my son and he nodded. "It's gonna be awesome."

"We should go," I told him.

"Thank you for coming to the meeting," she said. "They can get a little rowdy sometimes. This was easy."

"Of course." I nodded. "Rafe, get your backpack."

I left the classroom feeling more conflicted than ever. On one hand, I was annoyed at myself for being so affected by a woman I barely knew. On the other hand, I couldn't deny the pull I felt toward her. She was kind, intelligent, and incredibly good with Rafe. But I had to remind myself that she was just his teacher. Nothing more. I wasn't going to ruin this very good thing my son had going for him. I had to keep it in my pants.

"How's the finger?" I asked when we got in the car.

"It hurts."

"I bet," I said.

That night, as I was getting Rafe ready for bed, I couldn't stop thinking about Alaina. Her smile, her laugh, the way she had been so gentle with my baby boy. I tried to push those thoughts aside and focus on being a good dad.

"Dad," Rafe said, looking up at me with wide eyes. "Are you really gonna come to the fall festival?"

"Of course, buddy," I said, ruffling his hair. "Wouldn't miss it for the world. I'm volunteering. I'm going to be helping. I'm not sure what I'm going to be doing, but I'll figure it out."

Rafe grinned, his earlier injury forgotten. "Cool! It's going to be so much fun."

As I tucked him in and turned off the light, I found myself hoping that maybe things would get better. For both of us.

So far, it appeared we were off to a good start.