“How would you feel about taking on another role?” she asked. “In addition to being my new personal drill sergeant.”
“What kind of role?” he asked, curiosity lighting his face.
She raised an eyebrow and smiled. “PE teacher.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Piper
Piper hated to admit it. But her mother-in-law was right. The Experiment was a disaster.
The first two weeks of school flew by in an exhausting, incoherent blur of long division, algebra, history, andIsland of the Blue Dolphins.
Each day presented problems they hadn’t anticipated, like timing. Some days they went too fast, and the kids were baffled and confused by the material. But if they went too slowly, the kids squirmed in their chairs, whined for snacks, begged for screen time, bickered, and stared out the window, yawning.
Luke was the canary in the coal mine. He became bored about fifteen minutes before everyone else. Once he lost focus, he took the rest of the school down with him.
Piper tried to remember how to solve forxwith the older kids while Rosamund tried to teach the younger ones about nouns and verbs. Kiersten fluttered around like a distracted butterfly, trying to work one-on-one with anyone who needed extra help.
Meanwhile Luke made farting noises with his hands, Caitlin rolled her eyes and shot scornful looks at her classmates, Olivia and Jamesfought over the same mechanical pencil, and Johnny begged for his fourth bathroom break in an hour.
Piper and the other moms finally threw in the towel at the end of the second week, right after lunch. They hustled the kids outside two hours before school was technically supposed to dismiss and declared an end to the school week.
The older kids headed for the basketball hoop in Kiersten’s driveway, where they talked and shot baskets. Caitlin, she noticed with a sinking heart, stood on the sidelines, scowling with her arms crossed.
The younger kids sat on Kiersten’s front porch with markers and a giant roll of butcher paper, elbowing each other and bickering over crayons.
Piper sat on the front steps, “supervising” the little kids with a cup of coffee that had gone cold hours ago because she’d been too busy to drink it. She tossed back two Tylenol and massaged her forehead.
“Lovely artwork.”
She looked up, shading her eyes against the afternoon sun. A middle-aged man with brown hair, glasses, and a British accent stood on the sidewalk.
Eeyore Man.That’s what the girls called this neighbor who never seemed to smile. He shuffled to his little white car with hunched shoulders as he headed off to work in the mornings, then came home again at the end of the day and shuffled back inside. He’d moved in two years ago, after the death of his wife.
Her youngest daughter stopped drawing and looked up at the man with wide eyes. “Do you know Mary Poppins?”
He turned to her with a patient smile. “I do, as a matter of fact. She’s a lovely person. But that carpet bag of hers is heavier than it looks.”
Her daughter nodded gravely, as though she had always suspected this to be the case, then returned to her coloring.
“A little after-school arts and crafts?” he asked, inclining his head toward the children.
“Sort of,” Piper said. “We’ve dropped out of regular school for a while ... and now our school is here.” She gestured toward Kiersten’s house with her coffee cup.
His eyes widened. “That’s rather bold, isn’t it?”
“Boldis one word for it,” she replied with a wry smile as the front door opened, and Rosamund joined them on the porch.
“I’m a teacher of sorts myself, actually. A professor. At Georgetown.” He extended his arm, and they shook hands. “Miles Townsend.”
“Piper Mondello,” she said, then introduced Rosamund as well.
“I’ve come to enquire about the potluck.” He produced a piece of paper from his back pocket and handed it to her.
Her eyes narrowed as she read the flyer, which stated that Piper, Kiersten, and Rosamund had graciously volunteered to organize the potluck harvest feast, all children’s games and concessions, face painting, the bouncy house, and the decoration of front porches for the Harvest Festival.
She felt her cheeks flush with irritation.
