Ann Aguirre: I Want It That Way

“You must be Nadia. I’m Madeline Parker.” She was wearing jeans and a sweater, so I felt even more like a dork.

Did you think this was a job interview? Sigh.

Trying to be sly, I wiped my palm on my skirt then shook her hand. A glint of humor in her hazel eyes told me she was onto me, but she wasn’t judging.

“Nice to meet you,” I murmured.

“The pleasure is mine, believe me.” She looked to be in her thirties, not so old as to be intimidating or perma-settled into cranky ways. “Some of my colleagues find this professional obligation annoying, but I can use your help. This is the tail end of my free period, so we can go over some things before wading in. You want to sit down?”

“Sure.” I took a seat near her desk, ready to listen.

What she dropped on me was pretty stunning. “I work in the classroom as a co-teacher for social studies, English, science, math, though I teach the at-risk and special-ed students for math by myself, as I’m certified 4-8. Then I have a thirty-minute study hall where I help with homework as set up by the administration. This is a normal workload, though at the same time, I’m supposed to be teaching remedial English skills, study habits, behavior modification for discipline-issued students, as well as offer social instruction for those on the autism spectrum.”

“Wow,” I said.

“The most important thing for you to realize is that burnout is high among special-ed teachers. I love my work, don’t get me wrong, but don’t forget to take care of yourself, okay?”

I thought of my Sleepytime tea ritual and nodded. “I won’t. Thanks.”

“Now that we’ve had our serious talk, I’ll show you how rewarding this can be. Ready?”

A couple hours later, when I left the practicum, I was exhausted, and I understood what Ms. Parker meant. Though I didn’t doubt my commitment to teaching, maybe I didn’t have the tolerance or fortitude to work with special-needs students. There was such a diverse array of challenges, and I felt exhausted just trying to help my mentor address them. It seemed like every time I turned around, there was someone standing behind her, saying her name on repeat, having forgotten instructions or wanting an exception to the rule. Her patience was astonishing.

That night, I ate ramen for dinner and went to bed early. I didn’t talk to my roomies or sit on the balcony. Thursday was a cipher of a day, but by evening, I shook off the bad mood and watched a movie with Angus and Lauren. Unsurprisingly, Max had a date, and it was two in the morning when he came in. I was still awake, though I didn’t want to be. Apparently, Sleepytime tea at the kitchen table wasn’t the same as drinking it by moonlight.

Max seemed surprised to see me when he shut the door. “Wild night, huh?”

“You know it. Nothing says party like an herbal-tea party.”

“I’m worried about you, Conrad. You’re out of control.” His smirk prompted me to give him the finger.

“You wish.” He sauntered past me, grabbed a bottle of water then said, “Don’t stay up too late.”

Since I was awake, anyway, I did some reading and started on a project that was due in two weeks. I got four hours of sleep, max, before I had to head to my first class. On Friday afternoon, I was surprised when the director pulled me off kitchen duty, where I was helping Louisa put together snack plates. Quickly, I washed my hands and followed her, confused, to the front of the center.

“I don’t know how this happened,” Mrs. Keller was saying, “but I double-booked myself. I’m meeting with a vendor about new equipment but I’ve also got a prospective parent wanting a tour. Can you handle it?”

“Sure, just introduce me.”

But then I saw him. Ty stood near the front door in a pool of sunlight, holding a little boy’s hand. The pair of them were just adorably ginger, and a smile beamed out of me before I could school my expression to something less Wow, I’m so glad to see you, more suited to a day-care center tour. Mrs. Keller was talking, making us known to each other. Though I could’ve said it was unnecessary, I didn’t.

“So I’ll leave you in Nadia’s capable hands, all right? If you have questions she can’t answer, I’ll be available in half an hour or so.”

“Understood. Thank you.” His voice was always quiet and grave then, not just when dealing with random girls.

I had seen enough of Mrs. Keller’s routine to know that I wasn’t supposed to focus on the parents in this scenario, so I squatted down to eye level with mini-Ty and offered a warm smile. “We haven’t met. I’m Nadia. I’ll be showing you around today. Is that okay?”

He thought about it and then nodded without looking at his dad. That told me he was a confident kid. The bear was conspicuously absent, so he must be in big-boy mode.

“My name is Sam.” He offered a small hand for a very grown-up shake, and it was all I could do not to hug him. Then he volunteered, “I have to go to school now. My auntie can’t watch me anymore.”

That must be the gray-haired lady who said it was her last day.

“I’m sorry to hear that” seemed like the safest response.

“But I get to play with other kids more.” That sounded like he was quoting his dad’s assessment of the bright side in this change to their routine.

“Very true. Once you’ve seen everything, I’ll ask Mrs. Trent if you can play in her class for a little while.”

Sam tipped his head back this time, asking permission with big brown eyes.

Ty nodded. “Sounds great.”

While I gave the company pitch, I was conscious of unspoken things between us, unfinished business, and it didn’t help having Ty right at my shoulder as we peered in the classroom windows while I talked about each teacher. Sam went to the door and stared through the glass. He didn’t seem alarmed over the idea of switching from babysitter to day care, and it was probably time. Pre-K would help him get ready for kindergarten next year.

Eventually, we came to the end of the tour and I offered my hand to Sam. He took it without hesitation, and I glanced at his dad, who seemed more nervous about the whole thing. Taking his silence for assent, I tapped on Mrs. Trent’s door. We had two pre-K teachers, but Mrs. T had spaces available.

“Sam is a prospective student. Would it be all right if he participated for a bit?”

“Absolutely. We’re just about to have circle time. Sam, you can have this carpet square.” She gave him blue shag to sit on, and I beckoned to Ty.

“It’s best to leave while he’s busy. We won’t be gone long.” I took him to the break room, which was near the kitchen. It had been only fifteen minutes, so Mrs. Keller wouldn’t be done with her supply meeting yet. “Would you like coffee or tea?”

“Coffee would be great.” As ever, he looked tired, though not rumpled. The weariness seemed to be a perpetual state with him.

“What questions do you have?” As part of the tour, I’d gone over hours, safety record and curriculum, but I hadn’t covered the fees. I hated talking money with the parents. Some of them made me mad, acting like their kids weren’t worth the cost of decent care.

While he thought about it, I poured the coffee into a white mug and offered him cream and sugar. “No thanks, black is fine.” His golden-brown eyes held mine for a few seconds. “I guess the only question I have at this point is...where’ve you been all week?”

I could’ve made up an excuse. I could’ve lied.

“Avoiding you,” I said honestly.

“Why?”

“I may not be the best neighbor, but I haven’t done anything to deserve that snub, and I’m not interested in friends who only acknowledge me part of the time.”