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I slam my truck door and smooth down my clothes and beard. I want to make a good impression and get off on the right foot with Lily’s teacher.
Little Cubs Kindergarten has a great reputation, resulting in limited spots. I can see why, even before entering the building. The playground is filled with trees, offering enough shade for the kids. A couple of swings, a seesaw, and a slide sit on rubber tiles to cushion any potential falls. Right next to the play structures is an outdoor learning area and a few picnic tables so the kids can eat outside when the weather permits. And everything is fenced off, which is a non-negotiable element for me.
I could see my daughter being happy here as long as the teachers are as awesome as the facilities.
I ring a bell and wait to be let in. Another big plus. I wouldn’t want anyone to be able to wander inside my daughter’s school.
An older lady unlocks the door for me and gives me a warm smile. “Hello. I’m Ingrid. How can I help you?”
“Hi, I’m Benson. I have a meeting with Miss Parker?”
She nods. “Come on in. Benson. I think I went to school with your mother. Patricia?”
“Yup, that’s my Mom.”
“How nice. If you see her, tell her I said hi. It’s been a while since I ran into her,” she says, leading me through the school’s hallways.
“She and Dad moved to California a few years ago, so that’s probably why,” I tell her.
“Wow, California, huh? That sounds great. Sun, beaches, nature…”
I laugh. “True. They do miss it here, especially Lily. They’re thinking of dividing their time between California and Bearclaw Ridge. Cali in the winter and Montana in the summer.”
Ingrid comes to a stop outside a classroom and smiles. “That sounds lovely. If your mother is back in town, let me know, and I’ll give her a call. It’ll be great to catch up with her.” She claps her hands together and gestures toward the door. “Well, this is Miss Parker’s class. Good luck.”
Ingrid heads back in the direction we came from, and I take a deep breath. I have no clue what to expect from this meeting, but I’m sure it’ll be fine.
I rap my knuckles against the door, the sound echoing through the hallway. After waiting a second, I push the door open and step inside the bright classroom. Colorful artwork adorns the walls, and shelves full of books and educational toys are pushed against one of the other walls.
“Hello, I’m June Parker. You must be Benson,” a gorgeous woman sitting behind a desk says.
She rises from her chair and walks up to me with a welcoming smile. Her skirt flows elegantly while she walks, and I’m speechless for a few moments. It’s like watching an angel float through the classroom.
Why have I never seen her before? Running a bar in a small town means I know everyone, and I never forget a face—especially not one as gorgeous as hers.
“Hi, pleasure to meet you, Miss Parker,” I say, extending my hand.
Her handshake is gentle, and her hand feels super soft. It almost disappears into my giant palm. I’m suddenly super conscious of how big I am and how tiny she is. She can’t be more than five feet two.
“Hi, Benson. And please call me June.”
“Thanks for meeting with me after school hours. I hope I’m not keeping you from anything or anyone important.”
She shakes her head and smiles. “You’re not. Come, sit.”
I sit at a small table in a cozy corner of the room and finally relax a bit. Miss Parker—I mean, June—is kind, the classroom looks super fun, and I didn’t make a fool of myself by saying something embarrassing. This meeting will go great, I’m sure of it.
“Why don’t we start with you?” June asks.
“Great, what do you want to know?”
She uncaps a pen and writes my name on her notepad. “Well, I’d love to know if you’re in a relationship.”
Wow. She sure cuts to the chase. I mean, I’m intrigued by her, yes, but we only met a couple of minutes ago. “I, um, yes, I’m single. You?”
She holds her hands in the air, her cheeks turning crimson. “Sorry, I think we’re having a miscommunication. I only ask about your marital status because it’s important for us to know about the child’s family dynamics. I’m not hitting on you or anything.”
Of course. That makes sense. So much for not saying anything embarrassing.
