A Child's Wish

“I was afraid I wouldn’t get here in time,” she told him, her gaze gliding over the sea of adults sitting in miniature chairs. He’d grown used to the sight of small desks and low toilets in his workday life, but to someone like Susan he guessed it might seem pretty unusual. “I’ve never done my rounds so efficiently.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, giving parents a chance to greet each other, put themselves at ease, before he called the gathering to order.

“Did you tell her I’d be coming?” Susan motioned toward Meredith, who was over by the wall talking to a group of parents about various pieces of artwork on display.

“No.” From the moment he’d first seen Ms. Foster that morning, he’d been all business. He had a job to do. He couldn’t lose sight of that fact—or lose focus, either. He wasn’t going to be swayed by the fact that Meredith Foster was the best friend of the woman he intended to marry. “Let’s get this show on the road,” he added, moving into the classroom.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming.”

The room, which had been buzzing, grew still as Mark stood with his back to Meredith’s desk—and to the two women standing behind it. He’d seen them hug, and that had been enough.

“Is there anyone here who has not seen or heard about the article in the paper regarding Larry Barnett and Ms. Foster?”

Some heads nodded. No hands were raised.

“That’s what I figured. I asked you here to reassure you that we have everything under control at Lincoln Elementary. I wanted to give you a more complete version of the truth, answer any questions you might have and offer you the opportunity to move your children to another third-grade class if you so choose.”

He heard the gasp behind him, felt a pang, even though he knew he’d been under no obligation to tell Meredith his plan to give parents of her students the possibility of moving their children out. He’d had a call from the president of the school board that morning and had obtained the man’s reluctant consent to handle the situation his way for now, assuming he at least gave the parents a choice.

More than two dozen faces stared back at him. Some of the adults out so early were dressed professionally, probably going straight to work from the grade school. Some looked as though they’d barely rolled out of bed. They were dressed in everything from sweats and overalls to three-piece suits. And every single one of them looked concerned.

“Before I say more, I’d like to give Ms. Foster a chance to speak with you.” He stepped aside, watched Meredith make eye contact with the parents of her students as she came forward.

Her conservative navy slacks, white blouse with its bow at the neck and her understated navy earrings and bracelet were carefully chosen, he was sure. He had to give her credit for doing even that job well. She’d worn her hair down, too, giving her a softer look.

Not that his approval mattered. How she wore her hair had nothing to do with him. He’d always preferred short hair on a woman, anyway.

“I’m glad you came,” Meredith started. “I take my job very seriously. I come to work every day aware that I will be spending the next six or seven hours of my day caring for your children, not just teaching them how to add and write and read, but teaching them how to get along with each other, how to thrive in society. How to be kind. And I hope I teach them that there are good people in the world, that there are people outside their homes who care about them, people they can trust. I hope that I show them they can trust me, as it’s only with utmost trust that they will lend me their minds, be willing to receive knowledge from me.”

She was good. Mark’s skin tightened and a chill spread through him. She really meant what she was saying. And this was what made Meredith Foster the best teacher he’d ever had in his employ.

“I would never, ever do anything to hurt any of your children,” she continued without missing a beat, her gaze moving over the room, connecting every single person there. “On the contrary, I tend to stick my neck out in an attempt to help them. Which is what I did for Tommy Barnett. I believed that he was having problems at home and I would not have been able to live with myself, had I not said something to his mother about my belief. I can’t honestly tell any of you that I wouldn’t do it again. Nor will I tell you that I wouldn’t do the same for your child. Because I know that I would. That is the promise you have from me. I will be here, I will be focused and attentive, and if I ever suspect that any one of your children is struggling in any way, I will come straight to you.”

Meredith paused. Heads nodded.

“That’s all I have to say. Thank you.” She turned to him. “Thank you, Mr. Shepherd.”

Mark cleared his throat. He was on. And he didn’t have a thing to add that would be better than what she’d just said.

CHAPTER NINE

THE HALLS WERE EMPTY of children, quiet and yet very much alive as Meredith walked from her classroom to Mark’s office late that afternoon. The day’s energy resonated, filling the space with innocence, frustration, fear and joviality.

She shifted the black M&M bag to her other shoulder. Tired as she was, she could pick up on all the various emotions that were lingering—or perhaps she was so tired she was simply imagining they must be there. Either way, she couldn’t fathom not walking these halls, next to lockers and doorways that had been witness to thousands of secrets over the years. She couldn’t fathom not being aware of the children.

Panic churned in her stomach and she forced herself not to give in to it. She hated feeling powerless. Her destiny was out of her hands at the moment, but she understood enough about life’s process to know that it was only temporary.

So why wasn’t that helping?

The outer door to the principal’s office was open, which was how Macy left it when she went home if Mark was still here. He’d said he’d wait for her.

And he was talking to someone. She’d thought they’d discuss the results of the morning’s meeting alone—it would be hard enough to hear how many parents had opted out of her classroom without having to hear it in front of an audience.

She went in anyway.

“Oh, Kelsey. Hi, honey!” The little girl was sitting in her father’s chair behind his desk, her feet far above the ground. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

Mark rose from one of the two task chairs in front of his desk. “Kelsey heard some kids talking today and decided to come and see me rather than going home with Josie.”