He moved effortlessly among the children, such a natural with them, and the warmth in his smile infectious. Even these young kids sensed how special he was.
“Hey there,” Stella teased as she walked up next to me, nudging me gently with her elbow. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I replied, forcing a smile as I turned toward her. “Just lost in thought for a moment.”
“Uh-huh,” she said skeptically.
My cheeks flushed at the knowing glint in her eye. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Mmhmm, sure you don’t.” She smirked, but her expression softened as she added, “Just be careful, okay? I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
She was a good friend, and I was genuinely touched by her concern. “I’ll be fine, Stel. It’s…complicated, but I promise I know what I’m doing.” A bold lie, but what else was there to say?
She looked doubtful, but simply patted my arm before moving off to help a group of kindergartners who were more interested in eating the dirt than planting flowers in it.
As we worked side by side, every once in a while I’d look over at Marc—catching the way he worked with all of the kids, offering guidance and praise as he guided a group of eager students through the process of planting flower plugs, holding their attention like a professional.
He just had that kind of charm, even to these young kids.
“Alright, kids. Remember to press the soil down gently around the flower, so it stays in place,” Marc instructed with a warm smile, his hands skillfully demonstrating the process.
“Like this, Mr. Mendez?” a little boy named Tommy asked, seeking approval as he imitated Marc’s movements.
“Exactly like that. Great job!” Marc told him, pride in his voice.
I was finishing up a row of pansies when a shadow fell across my work. Glancing up, I found myself staring into Marc’s warm brown eyes. “Looking good,” he said, gesturing to the neat line of flowers.
“Thanks.” I sat back on my heels, wiping my brow with the back of my hand and trying to pretend that I wasn’t eye-level with his crotch. “I had a good teacher,” I added with a grin as I stood.
The easy banter settled something in my chest, as the knot of worry inside me unwound. This was the Marc I was drawn to—funny and kind, a warm vulnerability that made me want to hold him close…
But I couldn’t. Not here, not now, maybe not ever.
The thought sobered me, and I looked away, busying myself with brushing dirt from my jeans as he walked over to the next parent volunteer.
I tried to push the thought aside as I returned my attention to the kids, helping them finish planting the last of the flowers. Their excitement could not be contained, and I laughed along with them, caught up in their joy and wonder of planting flowers and getting dirt under their nails.
Time seemed to fly by, and before I knew it, all the planting was done. The front sidewalk was lined with colorful flowers, and we’d had enough flower plugs left over for each kinder and first grader to take a small plant home in a disposable cup.
“Alright, everyone!” Principal Hawkins called out, clapping her hands to get our attention. “It’s time to wrap up our gardening for the day. Make sure all your tools are put away and gather up any trash.”
“Come on, guys,” I said to my students, helping them pick up their supplies. “Let’s get everything cleaned up.”
As the kids began to clean up, I noticed Mia tugging at her father’s hand, pointing towards the school building. Marc nodded and said something to her, then headed inside, leaving her with one of the other teachers.
Curiosity piqued, I followed him.
I found him in my classroom, looking around. He looked up as I entered, his expression a mix of guilt and uncertainty. “Sorry, I just…Mia forgot her jacket.”
I nodded, my throat suddenly dry. Why does he always make me so nervous? “It’s fine. It’ll be chilly in the morning,” I said, instantly regretting the awkward babble. I took a step closer, my heart in my throat, thoughts swirling.Should I tell him how I feel?“Marc…”
But he interrupted me, his voice filled with urgency. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out, his eyes meeting mine. “For kissing you that night, for…for everything. I didn’t mean to make things complicated.”
My heart ached at the hesitation in his voice. Didn’t he realize how much that kiss meant to me? I took a trembling breath, trying to steady my racing thoughts, and swallowing hard, I told him, “You didn’t. I mean, it is complicated, but…but that’s not your fault.”
He paused, taking a deep breath. “I …I don’t know what I’m doing. I like you, a lot, but…but I’m not sure I’m ready for this. For us. And I’m worried about Mia, about how this might affect her.” His hands fell to his side. “And I’m scared of getting hurt again, of not being enough for you.”
Not being enough for me?The words hit me like a punch to the gut, but I forced myself to nod, to keep my expression neutral. “I get it. There’s a lot at stake, especially with Mia…”
