I could feel my face flushing scarlet from my overreaction. My friend could tease me about Alex. That shouldn’t have been a big deal. I just—I couldn’t think about dating anyone, even in a hypothetical sort of way. It made every one of my muscles go tight. Made me feel like I was doing something wrong—cheating on a husband who didn’t exist anymore. There was too much pressure, too much expectation.
I nodded woodenly and finished packing my bag.
“Do you care if we stop by my room on our way out? I need to grab Cocoa,” April said. She was using her careful voice with me, like I might bump the edge of my desk and shatter into a million pieces. Although, to be fair, she had just witnessed my minor meltdown over the innocent suggestion of dating my boss.
“Of course. That’s no problem.”
Cocoa was April’s classroom pet. The four-pound, black Holland Lop rabbit was a new addition to our school. As an animallover, April had been begging for a classroom pet for several years. Earlier in the summer, she’d gotten the other second-grade teacher, Angie Morris, to finally agree to have a pet in her classroom too. With both grade-level teachers on board, Mr. Brinkman had signed off on April’s request.
Cocoa was a sweet and sociable little thing. The students loved the rabbit and took turns feeding and caring for her. But on the weekends and over school breaks, April brought Cocoa home with her.
When we made it to the second-grade classroom, I gave the bunny a few scratches before April loaded her up in her carrier.
“Are things smoothing out next door?” I asked.
While Ms. Morris had agreed to host her own Holland Lop, she didn’t exactly love having a classroom pet the same way April did.
My friend spared a glance at the darkened classroom across the hall and hesitated. “Not exactly.”
“What happened?”
“Well,” April began, “she’s been leaving Oreo at school over the weekends. I guess her cat doesn’t appreciate having another animal at home. And Morris has been asking students and their parents to take Oreo for school breaks.”
I made an affronted sound. “Oreo stays all weekend by herself?”
April nodded tightly. “She has enough food and water and everything—I’ve checked—but you know how these little bunnies like to run and play.”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
Cocoa would do laps around the classroom if she’d been cooped up too long. She was so good with the kids and seemed to genuinely enjoy the attention they gave her.
My gaze strayed to Morris’s classroom. I hated to think about the little black-and-white rabbit alone in there all weekend long.
While April hefted Cocoa and turned off the lights, I peeked in the room across the hall. Oreo’s cage was in plain view on the opposite wall. It was pretty sparse compared to the double-decker bunny house April had for Cocoa. But the fluffy rabbit sat placidly in its pen. Poor thing.
“At least there’s a night-light plugged in for her,” I commented absently.
“Yeah, that’s one of those air freshener ones. Morris says her room smells like a barnyard because of Oreo.” My friend rolled her eyes.
Maybe I could talk to Morris, offer to help out with the rabbit.
I wasn’t really killing it at taking care of myself right now, though. In fact, breakfast this morning had consisted of me eating shredded cheese over the sink. But it might be nice to have a part-time pet around the house. Someone to watch Mr. Darcy with.
Troubled, I stared at the rabbit a moment longer before catching up to April and Cocoa. Now wasn’t exactly the time to push this. I needed to get over to the sheriff’s office and get this background check done.
I needed to pull it together, in general. I was dropping balls and forgetting things, tarnishing my reputation at work, and feeding into the rumors and assumptions that I needed to be handledwith care. Next, my boss would be questioning my competency. I didn’t want Alex to keep making excuses for me and giving me a pass because he felt sorry for me.
Not to mention the irresponsible way I was behaving. Getting drunk at Magnolia, waking up in someone else’s bed, arguing on the softball field.
It was humiliating to be the worst version of myself. I just didn’t know how to find my way back to the person I’d been before my life fell apart.
Mary Beth Collins answered phones and dispatch for the sheriff’s office. She was two years younger than me—in my sister Mac’s grade—but she greeted me warmly and showed me where I could sit until the administrative assistant who’d be taking my paperwork and fingerprints was ready for me.
When I rounded the corner into the small waiting room, there was only one other person there, but he and his motorcycle helmet took up two chairs.
I was pretty proud of myself for not stopping in my tracks and walking right back out the front doors. Especially when Jack glanced up from the clipboard balanced on his muscular thigh. He had his little round reading glasses on again, and I didn’t know why I found them nearly as attractive as the leather jacket stretched snug across his broad shoulders.
“Clyde,” he greeted.
