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The two of them continued to complain about the Howards while Kendall and I remained quiet. There was some discussion of writing to the Woodvale Times and posting about it on the Concerned Citizens of Woodvale Facebook page—those two were determined to drag the poor Howards down by any means necessary. It all seemed a bit over the top to me. The kids were fine, and so was their teacher.
I wanted to interject, to tell them they were overreacting, but I kept my mouth shut for Kendall’s sake. The last thing she needed right now was an argument between chaperones in the middle of an already chaotic field trip. So I stood back and watched the film without saying a word.
That is, until Noah Sherman decided to put his hand on Kendall’s lower back and lean in close to tell her she still seemed a little shaken up.
“Oh, I’m okay,” Kendall said, letting out a nervous chuckle.
I glared at Noah’s hand—and if my eyes weren’t deceiving me, it was sliding even lower down Kendall’s backside. Her arms clung tightly to her sides as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, leaning ever-so-slightly away from him. She wanted his hand off. But there it remained as he leaned in a second time, as though he didn’t want Cara or me to overhear him say, “Your clothes are soaked. I hope you’ve got something dry to change into at the school.” His eyes darted to her chest.
Fuck this guy.
Kendall tucked her damp hair behind her ear. “I—”
“Maybe you could run home and grab some of your wife’s clothes for her to borrow,” I suggested.
Noah and Kendall turned to me in unison, both of their mouths falling open.
Before he had the chance to muster up some shitty explanation for touching her, I kept going. “Speaking of your wife—let me see that ring. Is that diamond-encrusted?” I crossed my arms and nodded toward his left ring finger, which was still resting just above Kendall’s butt.
“Uh—” Noah slowly pulled his hand away from Kendall’s body and glanced down at his gold wedding band. “Yes. It is.”
I tucked my thumbs under the straps of my overalls. “Wow. That is some ring. Kendall—I’m sorry, Ms. Devin—did you see it?”
Kendall looked more uncomfortable now than she had before I opened my stupid mouth. Her face was pale, and while she ever-so-slightly shook her head, the rest of her body was tense and rigid. Her eyes were focused on the projector screen at the front of the room. “Let’s just learn about the apple life cycle, shall we?”
At that exact second, lightning illuminated the entire room—immediately followed by an enormous crack of thunder. The lights went out, the film came to a stop, and the kids erupted into screams, some of them jumping to their feet. And without any hesitation at all, Kendall stepped forward and her voice carried over their heads: “Everyone stay exactly where you are. Do not get up. We’re safe.” Despite the floor-to-ceiling windows along the wall, the room was so dark I could just barely make out Finley putting her arm around Elijah’s shoulders. The kids’ screaming turned into giggles as Kendall repeated, “We’re safe right where we are.”
Mr. Howard walked over to one of the windows with his hands in his pockets and stared out at his orchard. “It’s a good thing we did the apple-picking first, huh?” He turned to us with a laugh.
Kendall made her way around to the front of the room to lead the kids in a few songs while we waited out the storm. Meanwhile, Noah and I stood shoulder-to-shoulder. He didn’t look my direction once, though I was practically daring him to with my eyes.
When the power finally came back on, it was too late to do anything else. The children needed to get back to school in time for lunch, Kendall explained. On our way out, she turned to Mrs. Howard and said, “Thank you, again, for everything. I’ll see you at the Fall Festival.”
Mrs. Howard slapped her hand against her forehead. “Oh good heavens, I forgot to let you know. We’re not going to be able to set up our caramel apple stand. Bob’s having back surgery that Thursday.”
I could see the devastation on Kendall’s face as she replied, “Oh no, I’m so sorry to hear that. I hope his surgery goes well.”
Her “oh no” had nothing to do with Bob’s injured back and everything to do with caramel apples.
I half-listened to Mrs. Howard prattle on about her husband’s surgeries and his numerous ailments to Kendall, who did her best not to appear bored, as we led the line of kids to the bus. The rain had mostly subsided, reduced to a misty drizzle. There were puddles everywhere, which some of the kids couldn’t resist stomping in on their way to the bus.
Finally, Kendall shook hands with the Howards and stepped down off the porch to join us. When we reached the door of the bus, I turned to face her. “Hey,” I said, keeping my voice low as Walter walked between us to step up onto the bus.
Kendall looked up at me, holding a paper bag full of apples against her chest with one arm, the other waving for the last few kids to hurry up the steps.
“Sorry for butting in earlier,” I said. “But—he was sexually harassing you.”
“And you’re the only one of my students’ fathers allowed to do that,” she snapped, her eyes locked on mine as she gently nudged the last child up the bus steps.
Shit. She had every right to say what she’d just said, but still—her words stung. I swallowed and looked down at my muddy Chucks, knowing I probably deserved to be called out like this. “I—I’m sorry,” I said, my voice almost drowned out by the rhythmic sweep of the bus’s windshield wipers.
“No,” Kendall said, clutching my bicep. She pulled me toward her, bringing my ear to her mouth so she could whisper, “I wasn’t being sarcastic. I was letting you know.”
Oh.
Kendall shoved the bag of apples in my arms without another word and stepped up onto the bus. A subtle, flirtatious smile played upon her lips, leaving me momentarily speechless in her wake.
That woman absolutely killed me.
