Chapter 3

Three

As another reminder, please remember not to run in the halls. And speaking of halls, our annual locker decorating contest will start after Thanksgiving. Start thinking of ideas now!

NOLAN

I was many wonderful things, but a morning person wasn’t one of them. However, helping Cara and working at the school meant waking up as a peachy hue crept across the Oahu sky. I walked the short distance from the nearby studio-sized guest cottage I was renting. The early morning held a crisp chill, and I had the coffee on and the kids getting ready all at an hour I’d usually be deep asleep back home.

“Do you have everything you need?” I asked Cara. My sister-in-law had arranged her dark curly hair in a haphazard bun and was in her pajamas as she nursed Noah Craig on the couch. She had the TV remote, a mug of tea, a fuzzy lap blanket, and a stack of cloth diapers nearby. While the baby was finally out of the NICU, Cara herself was still healing from a rather traumatic birth, and I hoped she’d spend the whole day right there in her couch nest.

“Yes, Nolan.” She gave me a dutiful smile, but knowing her, she’d be up and checking email along with straightening the house as soon as the baby napped.

“You know, I could still pass on this substitute gig?—”

“Too late.” Her smile widened. She’d been the one to spy the job opening after Dory Crenshaw fell at the school’s fall festival. Apparently, I’d been hovering a bit much, and Cara was eager for me to find something more to occupy my days other than playing footman for her and the baby. “The kids are counting on you.”

“Mom!” Athena barreled down the stairs. At thirteen, she was almost as tall as her mother with a similar dancer’s build. Cara was slightly taller than my five foot nine, but Athena might beat both of us with her long limbs. And right then, her giant feet pounded on the wooden staircase as she came in with a head of righteous indignation. “Stella stole my favorite comb and the clip I wanted.”

“I can—” Cara started to stand, but I waved her back down.

“Sit right there.” I gave Cara my sternest glare. “That’s what you can do. Uncle Nolan to the rescue!”

Once I brokered peace in the daily hair war between the sisters, I tried to herd the girls toward the door, grabbing backpacks as we went.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” Stella asked as we paused near the door to put on our shoes. The compromise over the hair clip had involved me doing a hasty braid, which Stella flipped over one shoulder as she glared at me. Like me, she wasn’t a morning person, and sadly, eleven was too young to offer a coffee for the walk to school.

“Because I have some great ideas for the holiday festival, and I can’t wait to show Mr. Winters.” That was the God’s honest truth, and my eagerness had nothing to do with wanting to see the guy again, even if he did look straight out of a surfer film. No matter how good-looking, he was cranky, and for whatever reason, Merry seemed predisposed to not be a fan of mine.

“Mr. Winters is the best.” Athena stood a little taller as we waved goodbye to Cara. “When I get famous, I’m going to hire him to be the carpenter on one of my shows.”

“One? How many are you planning?” I teased because we all knew about Athena’s ambition to run a decorating empire similar to her favorite home remodeling shows

“As many as it takes.” She threw her arms wide, making her backpack lurch against its straps. “My decorating line will be in all the big-box stores Mom hates, but I’ll be rich.”

“That will be wonderful for you. Just remember to ask permission before filming reveals and reactions.” I kept my tone bright, but Athena’s tendency to record content for her growing social-media channel without warning had a long history of embarrassing missteps.

Athena made a rude noise. “Hey, I only surprised you that one time?—”

“More like ten times.” Stella interrupted to glare at her sister, pausing in the center of the sidewalk, costing us more precious seconds.

“Walk faster.” Athena gave Stella a push. “I want to hear Uncle Nolan’s big plans.”

“Don’t shove me!” Stella roared back, and thus, we arrived far closer to the first bell than I wanted.

Leaving the girls near their respective lockers, I headed to the industrial arts classroom. I’d dressed with our meeting in mind: red skinny jeans I’d found at one of my favorite New York thrift stores and a gauzy green shirt I’d picked up at a designer sample sale right before leaving for Hawaii. Hopefully, when Merry saw I was serious about making the festival a success, he would tone down his insta-hate. However, I pulled up short by the door when I saw he was already working with a trio of students.

“What do we think?” He held up a turtle-shaped cutting board. Away from the small chairs of the conference room, Merry seemed even taller with long, lanky arms and legs. I hadn’t met that many shop teachers over the years, but Merry was the hottest by far, more so when he smiled at the kids. Glowering at me, he was merely average surfer-boy cute, but when he grinned at the three kids, his appeal reached Hollywood blockbuster levels.

“Mom’s going to love it,” raved the student in the middle, a short boy with dark hair.

“She’s gonna freak,” the tallest boy agreed.

“I’ve got the wrapping paper.” The lone girl held up a roll of birthday paper.

“Now, each of you sign the back,” Merry instructed. “And we’ll add the year.”

I was blessed with a large circle of generous friends, yet my chest had never felt quite so full watching an act of kindness. Damn it. Why couldn’t Merry be grumpy all the time? Seeing this generous side of him did things to my insides, things I really didn’t like. Being attracted to him was bad enough. Liking him was a recipe for disaster.

And behind those three, other students were waiting for a moment of Merry’s time and attention. He was clearly a beloved teacher, and his bright and airy classroom was cluttered in a friendly way, where all the stacks of wood and trays of paint seemed inviting rather than oppressive.

“Can I help you?” Finally free of students, Merry looked up to find me lurking. Oops.

“Sorry.” I managed a sheepish smile he didn’t return. Huh. He’d certainly smiled plenty with his students. Apparently, it was just me he disliked. “I was going to try to talk to you about the holiday festival, but you were?—”

Buzz. The first bell rang, unleashing an avalanche of students streaming in the front doors, racing to their lockers, and pushing into classrooms.

“Better get to your classroom while you can,” Merry advised. “We can talk about the festival later. I’ll catch you at lunch.”

I raced to the choir room, a weird L-shaped space that had possibly once been a storage room. No windows, mismatched chairs, a makeshift stage with risers, and a single door, which I guarded carefully as my first period students arrived.

However, I wasn’t so distracted by the door that I missed seeing Merry’s twins up to something by the teacher’s desk near the stage. On my way to take attendance, I paused to inspect the desk area. The desk itself had three decent legs and one propped up by ancient music books. All those items had been there yesterday, along with stacks of sheet music and a rolling file cart with handouts and lesson plans. I glanced down at the chair parked by the desk. Unlike the day before, it had a cushion. And under the cushion?—

Yup. I held my discovery aloft.

“A fart pillow? Really?” I shook it at Ryder and Legend and their group of friends seated near the front. Everyone other than Legend was unable to keep their giggles in as I continued my lecture. “I’m disappointed. These were around when dinosaurs roamed the earth, otherwise known as my childhood.”

“Short notice.” Legend shrugged. “Don’t worry. We’ll try harder.”

“Or how about no pranks?” I gave him a pointed look designed to remind him of his dad’s request, but Legend was already turned around in his seat, talking to a spiky-haired friend. I sighed before turning my attention to the whole group of sixth graders. “Okay, class. Let’s get started. Everyone up.”

“You want us to stand?” Ryder sounded like this was a novel idea, and given Mrs. Crenshaw’s file of ancient musical scale exercises, perhaps it was.

“We’re going to warm up, which means more than our voices.” When I’d first started working as a sub after college to earn money between acting gigs, Craig gave me a piece of advice he’d learned at West Point. When in doubt, wear them out. It applied to dogs, kids, students, and unruly cadets equally. And sixth graders might be middle schoolers, but they were definitely not too old to shake their sillies out.

By lunch, however, I was the exhausted one. And Merry continued to have a swarm of students with questions around him, which meant zero opportunity to show him my sketches and ideas.

“Sorry.” Merry finished with his students and approached the metal table in the courtyard where I was dining alone. Well, as alone as one could be in a courtyard filled with a couple hundred middle schoolers and teachers. I’d taken advantage of the relative quiet to add to my plans.

“I have a bunch?—”

He cut me off with a raised hand. Long nimble fingers, wide palms, and I desperately needed to stop noticing small details about the guy. “The bell is about to ring, but I do want to hear your ideas.”

Liar. I forced a smile. “Let’s try and connect after school?”

I shuffled my sketches of dancing surfing Santas, flying fairies, and illuminated palm trees.

“Crap.” He smacked his forehead. “I forgot the boys have dental appointments.”

“Which we can skip.” Legend chose that moment to pop up near my table, lunchbox in hand and an alarming amount of dust in his hair. I had a feeling I didn’t want to know where he’d been or what the next prank was.

“No, we can’t. Not with the current wait times and only a few weeks to use this year’s insurance benefits.” Merry shook his head as he busied himself in dusting off Legend. “Sorry, Mr. Bell. Would tomorrow work? It’s Saturday, so I’m giving a surf lesson in the morning, but then I could meet you at a coffee shop or something.” His all-too-attractive mouth twisted like meeting up with me was a chore only slightly more preferable to trash duty or yard work. “I don’t like to leave the boys alone at home too long though.”

I glanced down at my stack of papers. This might require more than a fifteen-minute meeting. Across the courtyard, Stella’s group of friends were doing some sort of dance where they pantomimed swimming. Perfect.

“I want to be around to help Cara with the kids tomorrow, but why don’t you come over?” Cara and Craig had one of those houses where the doors were never locked, and there were always at least a couple of extra kids over every weekend. “They have a pool, so you can bring the boys, and I can explain my ideas while on uncle duty.”

“That should work.” Merry narrowed his eyes like he was trying to figure out my true motive for the invitation. Which was funny because so was I. I shouldn’t have been searching for ways to spend more time with someone who clearly disliked…

Oh. That was it. I wasn’t used to people disliking me. Merry’s swift judgment had stung. But I was Nolan Bell, king of winning over a room, and surely tomorrow’s meeting would be an excellent chance to make a better second impression.