Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 138981 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138981 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
“Not at all. I expected you to be more upset, honestly, considering the whole—” He stops and waves a hand. “—the whole situation.”
I can’t help a tired bark of laughter. “That’s one way to put it.”
“I try not to be insensitive.” With an almost conspiratorial smile, he steps into the sun, the brilliance reflecting off his pale hair and casting his eyes in shadow. He offers me his arm. “Let me make up for the shock yesterday—and for meeting my parents. They’re a bit much. I’ll show you around the schoolhouse.”
For a moment, I balk.
But there’s nothing in his smile besides friendly reassurance.
Okay, okay.
I’m being paranoid and jumpy.
This is a good time to calm down and stop making a big deal out of everything.
So I slip my hand into Ulysses’ arm and nod. “Thank you. Though I’m guessing in a town this size, there’s not that much to show.”
“You’d be right, but at least we can say we have amazing scenery for a walk.” He leans toward me with a chuckle and tosses his head toward the plaza. “Right this way.”
Ulysses leads me down the sidewalk of one of the broad paved streets, trees dotting the walk and the morning filled with crisp smells of late summer. Although now and then I hear car engines, lawn mowers, children playing, the sounds of shop doors opening and closing, laughter...
It’s still so quiet.
Silent in a way that makes the day feel peaceful and slow beneath the cloudless blue shell of sky.
Ulysses points out the town as we walk, all the little shops selling everything from locally bottled wine to a pub he swears has the best cheese fondue east of the Rockies.
A little convenience store that closes at ten p.m.—so not that convenient.
The grocery store, the secondhand shop, the barber’s.
Every store is a quaint thing that looks like it was plucked out of a doll village and sized up to make Redhaven.
He seems proud of his town. I guess that’s a good sign.
There’s a warmth to the way he speaks as he tells me about how the cheese shop on the corner has been owned by the same family for six generations.
I feel a little bad about being so on edge earlier.
Especially since he’s stopped staring at me, and it’s easier to relax.
The road ends at the school, opening up on a broad, grassy lawn shaded by pine and oak trees. The building is long and low with rows upon rows of windows against brick, topped with a mossy green roof and a playground off to the side.
A sign announces REDHAVEN on a bronze plaque. I blink as we stop outside the fence.
“This is the elementary school?”
“This is the school. Period.” With an amused sound, Ulysses swings the gate open for me. “From kindergarten through high school, we grow up in these hallowed halls.”
I eye him, half smiling. “You went to school here, huh?”
“Nah, my mother shipped me off to boarding school as soon as she could get rid of me. I spent most of my years abroad in Switzerland and Italy.” He lifts his brows with a self-mocking little sniff. “You can’t expect wealthy parents to actually raise their children, Miss Clarendon.”
“Heaven forbid.” I throw my hands up with a relieved laugh.
He’s not as stiff as he seemed at first.
The air’s easier between us as he gives me the tour.
Every school I ever visited in New York easily dwarfs this place.
There aren’t many classrooms because there’s not many classes.
I’ll be teaching rotating kindergarten through fourth grade, scheduling my times around periods with teachers who handle things like PE, art, and electives that aren’t under my umbrella.
The backbone of the school’s C-shape is the 5-8 wing, and as Ulysses guides me through tiled halls, we’re ambushed by a curvy woman with a messy ponytail of strawberry-blonde hair.
I barely glimpse her through the window in the door while she’s settled at a table in yoga pants, cutting out bits of poster board. The instant she sees us, she’s out the door, pulling me away from Ulysses with both hands.
“You’re Delilah, right?” Bright, chirpy, excitable, her brown eyes lit. She’s got a slight drawl that’s not quite country and not quite East Coast, giving her voice a pleasant burr. “I’m Nora. Nora Greenweather. I can tell you I’ve been looking forward to you for the longest time!”
I practically squeak, taken aback.
“Me?”
Ulysses starts to say something, but Nora shoots him an amused look. “Don’t start. Not even a chance for you to roll out one of your lines, you devil.” She leans into me, both hands grasping mine. “He’s the town flirt. Watch out for this one.” Then she squeezes my hands, grinning. “And yeah, we’ve all been waiting. Someone’s gotta take care of the little ones, and I did double duty for the second half of the last spring semester. I’m not cut out to deal with them until they’re old enough to take ‘no’ seriously. I don’t know how you stand it.”