Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 67398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
“I get that.” Merry was surprisingly solemn.
“I found my people in the theater crowd, and I simply wasn’t going to let them go.”
“That’s what I want for Ryder,” Merry said softly, looking down at the food. For once, I was quiet to see if he’d keep going. “I’ve always known I was pansexual, but I admit to a certain amount of het privilege, especially as a single dad. People just assume.”
“Not all of us can pass so easily.” I certainly couldn’t, and I suspected Merry knew that.
“Ryder was in kindergarten when he told me he was going to marry his best friend Troy. In fact, he told everyone who would listen. By third grade, I knew middle school would be a challenge, so I found Anuenue, moved into the one apartment in the district we could afford, and took the job to make doubly sure we’d get a spot. I want him to find his people.”
“He will.” I smiled encouragingly at him. “You’re a good dad. You already had a teaching certificate?”
“Not exactly. I did college when the boys were little, dabbling in various majors while Alyssa and I were still together. However, I worked construction on the side from high school on. I’ve always been handy.”
“I bet.”
“Uh-huh.” Ignoring my flirty tone, Merry continued, “Anuenue needed an industrial arts teacher, and I convinced Principal Alana that I could have a certification by fall. Spent that summer cramming classes in a post-bachelor program designed to get folks teaching licenses quickly to address the teaching shortage, and I got the job.”
“Wow. You really are an amazing dad.” I gazed at him, suddenly seeing the scruffy surfer dude in a warm, golden light, complete with a halo. “And a good teacher. The kids love you.”
“Eh.” He gave a humble shrug. “Turns out, teaching middle school isn’t much different from teaching surfing. Get them to trust you, make them laugh, and hope they learn a little something.”
“Yes,” I agreed, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. I’d already been attracted to Merry for reasons only my libido understood, but now I had an ocean-sized crush on the single dad who’d changed his entire life’s direction for his kid. And we had a whole day in front of us for another of those moments to erupt.
Eight
As we gather for parent-teacher conferences in the coming days, let us remember the power of positive words and a positive attitude. Along those lines, please remember teachers love praise as well!
MERRY
Nolan illuminated was a thing of beauty. After breakfast, we obtained as many clear lights as the grocery store offered, but it wasn’t the hundreds of little bulbs that lit Nolan up. No, it was his inner enthusiasm for absolutely everything. He’d relished the breakfast offerings, exclaimed over every knick-knack in the touristy section of the grocery store, and been his usual charming self at our stop by a fabric warehouse I’d used before for bargain fabrics and things like fake flowers.
Thanks to Nolan’s bottomless appetite for all things holiday, we left the fabric store with about double what we’d budgeted for before we ever even reached the flea market. The weekly flea market took place on the grounds of a large football stadium. After we parked, Nolan’s joy became a palpable thing, a happy little creature, complete with wiggles as he took in the rows of pop-up tents that wrapped around the outside of the stadium.
“This is unbelievable.” His eyes were wider than our pancakes had been and equally sweet.
“You’re like one of the kids. Or possibly Barney.” I glanced down at Barney, who was also all wiggly, dancing on his leash as he sensed incoming petting, treats, and other dogs.
“It’s hard not to be excited.” Nolan gestured widely. “Tents as far as the eye can see.” Not waiting for me or Barney, he marched straight ahead. “And the smells!”
“How are you hungry again?” I followed him to the nearest shaved-ice stand.
“Told you. Vacation mode.” He gave me a toothy grin. “When my family took our annual vacation to the Jersey shore, Craig and I always gorged on all the bad-for-us foods we didn’t get the rest of the year.”
“Nice.” I had to chuckle as he ordered a large shaved ice in a rainbow of tropical flavors with condensed milk and ice cream.
“Of course, you pretty much grew up in vacation mode.” Nolan made eating shaved ice into an erotic adventure with each spoonful, and I had to look away from his mouth. “How could you not want to eat Hawaiian shaved ice every day?”
“Now you even sound like one of my kids.”
“They’re onto something.” Continuing to hold his shaved ice, Nolan darted ahead to a huge booth of cheap T-shirts offered in multiples of five. “Oooh, look at these shirts.” He held up a youth-sized shirt with a cartoon of Santa lounging on a beach. “Perfect for our dancing surfer Santas.”