Pamela Hearon - Right Where We Started

What was it? Oh, yeah. “Next week, we’ll begin our unit on animals, and we’re going to cover this wall with pictures of all kinds of them.” He walked over to the azure-blue wall next to the door and patted it. “If you’d like to, you can bring a picture of your own pet or a pet you’d like to have.” He had quite a collection of animal pictures he’d taken in Africa, and he couldn’t wait to see the children’s faces when they got their first look at some of the wild beasts he’d encountered.

An excited titter went through the group as they all started talking at once. All except Tess. She’d been talkative all day—not the least bit shy—but suddenly it appeared the cat had her tongue.

Before he could make his way to her, the bell rang and the kids converged on him like a swarm of bees, each wanting to give the first hug goodbye. As he opened the door into the hallway, Tess got up slowly from her seat and stood at the end of the hug line. He exchanged squeezes with them, telling each child, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” But when he got to Tess, she latched on to his neck and started sobbing.

“Hey.” His heart wobbled at her emotion. Had he done something to upset her? “What’s the matter?”

The child’s sobs became wails, and she clutched him tighter.

“Can you tell me why you’re crying?” She shook her head, and he stooped down, positioning himself at her eye level. When she let go, he’d be right there. “I’ll bet you can if you try.” Dampness soaked into his shirt, and if he wasn’t mistaken, she’d just wiped her nose on his shoulder. “Usually we find out things aren’t so bad if we talk about them.”

“What’s going on? What did you say to her?” Audrey appeared beside him, her tone sharp with accusation.

“I’m not sure what upset her.” He tried to stand, but the little girl’s grip held tighter as her mom tried to pry her away. Afraid of losing his balance, he sat down in the floor.

Audrey shot an angry glare his way before kneeling down beside Tess. She patted her daughter’s back. “What’s wrong, punkin? Why are you crying?”

“I want my kitty,” the child blubbered. “I miss Bobcat.”

It was Mark’s turn to send accusing glances. “She has a bobcat for a pet?”

“No, her stepmom has a tomcat named Bob, so they all call him Bobcat.” Audrey’s eyes misted over, too, and Mark shot her a not-you-too look. “He lives with Tess’s father’s family in Florida,” she said.

Tess finally loosened her death grip and tilted her tearstained face up to look in his eyes. “But I wanted to bring him here with me.”

“We couldn’t.” Audrey kept her voice as gentle as the touch she used to guide Tess into her own arms. “He’s lived with his family for a long time, and he would miss all of them a lot.”

“But... I miss...him.” Tess sniffed, her voice catching on her stuttered breaths.

“I know you do.” Audrey kissed her daughter’s forehead.

Mark’s insides twisted as the hidden memories of that touch fought to break free. He shifted his attention back to Tess. “So it upset you when I said you could bring a picture of your pet to put on the wall? It made you miss Bobcat?”

Tess’s bottom lip jutted out and she nodded.

He smiled and wiggled her nose with the tip of his finger. “Well, having a picture of him with you might help you not miss him so much. Or —” he added some excitement to his voice “—remember I also said you could bring a picture of a pet you’d like to have. Anything you want. A cat or a dog or a seal or a zebra.”

Tess’s eyes widened. “Or a dolphin?”

He nodded and gave an exaggerated shrug. “Or a dinosaur! Any animal you want. Think you can find one?”

She nodded and reached for Audrey’s hand.

“You don’t need to bring it until next week, so you have plenty of time to look and decide on one. Okay?” She nodded again. “Okay then. See you tomorrow.” He allowed his eyes to travel from the child to the mom with the same message.

Tess let go, then ran back to her desk and started rummaging through it.

Mark took the moment to ask the question that had been on his mind since that morning. “Could we, ah... Could we talk sometime? In private?” He scanned Audrey’s face, watching for the true reaction that would come right before she settled the mask of hatred in place.

“You can talk to me anytime.” There it was! Just a brief glimpse of wistfulness, but enough that his heart surged with a hope—right before the guilt tamped it down. “As long as it has to do with Tess,” she added pointedly.

Tess ran back to them and thrust a piece of paper toward his face. “I made this for you.”

The shape of a heart drawn with a child’s unsteady hand, colored with a hurried scribble of bright red.

“Thank you, Tess.” He patted the child’s mass of red curls and from the corner of his eye caught the tight look of displeasure on Audrey’s face. Whether it was Tess’s ready affection for him or his pat on her head that caused it, he wasn’t sure. Probably both. “I’ll hang it on my wall.” He pointed to the space behind his desk that proudly sported all sorts of drawings the other children had made for him.

Audrey turned toward the door and was leading her away. The child turned back to wave. “See you tomorrow.”

He waved and nodded.

This was going to take a very long time. But today was the start. With nine more months of school, he had approximately one hundred and eighty more days to win back Audrey’s friendship and the forgiveness he desperately longed for.

CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE CHAPTER THIRTEEN CHAPTER FOURTEEN CHAPTER FIFTEEN CHAPTER SIXTEEN CHAPTER SEVENTEEN CHAPTER EIGHTEEN CHAPTER NINETEEN CHAPTER TWENTY CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO Extract Copyright

Labor Day

“I STILL CAN’T get over how much Tess looks like you, Audrey. Every time I see her, I’m back in grade school again.” Bree Barlow shifted the toddler in her arms to her other hip. “She getting along okay? She seems to have adjusted well to the move.”

Audrey craned her neck to check on her daughter’s whereabouts, finding her at the picnic table with a group of children whose faces were shiny and wet—and no doubt sticky—with watermelon. “Yeah, she’s doing great. And I can’t deny she’s a mini-me although I see a lot of her dad’s personality in her.” She reached out and stroked a finger down the tiny face resting on Bree’s shoulder. “Isaiah’s precious, too, and what a big boy!”

Bree nuzzled her nose into his hair and kissed the top of his head. “He’s a handful—literally. I may have to grow another set of arms when the other one gets here.” She patted the bump on her tummy.

“Two children under the age of two.” Audrey shook her head in mock sympathy. “What were you thinking?”

Her friend laughed and leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper. “Thinking had no part in it.”

Audrey laughed, too, and fanned her face, which flushed at the innuendo and the heat of the late-afternoon sun. It was nice to have time with Bree again. Although a couple of years older, she’d taken Audrey under her wing when they’d been cheerleaders together in high school. And she’d been a godsend when Win died. Having lost her dad two years earlier, she knew exactly the right things to say.

But today wasn’t the time to dwell on sad events. Days like this, full of celebration and mingling with old friends at the park in the center of town, confirmed to Audrey that she’d made the right decision moving back. The resort where they’d lived in Florida had been a small community, but it wasn’t the same as being home. Everyone there had relocated from somewhere else—an eclectic blend of accents from around the world, which was great. But people from Taylor’s Grove sounded mostly alike—Southern drawls with a heaping side of western Kentucky twang for flavor. Today, it tasted especially delicious.