Under no circumstances would I be asking Principal Oliver to intervene, though, thank you very much. The woman had made no secret of her feelings for Webb Sunday and, by extension, our betrothal.
By Monday morning, word had gotten out about the handfasting—because this was Little Pippin Hollow, where every week was a slow news week and dogs having puppies was sometimes the lead story on the local cable news. When I’d walked into the teachers’ lounge, I’d been greeted with celebratory donuts and hugs from nearly everyone, along with a dozen voices clamoring for every detail.How long have you been dating? Ohmigosh,I can’t believe you managed to keep it under the gossip radar so well that everyone thought you two disliked each other! Whose idea was the handfasting? Do you get a ring?
I’d flushed hot and opened my mouth to explain that it had all been a huge misunderstanding… when Principal Oliver had cut in.
“You’re going to find out pretty soon that Webb Sunday’s no prize, Mr. Williams,” she’d said, staring down her bifocals at me like a mousy, off-brand version of Cruella de Vil. “He’s making his ex-wife jump through hoops to see her own son, and now he’s inveigled one of my teachers into a handfasting before the custody is officially decided? Seems a little too good to be true, if you ask me.”
I really hated when people said that.
Immediately, I’d stood a little straighter, hands clenched into fists, because our handfasting had been utterly ridiculous… but it hadn’t been deliberate, that much Iknew.
“Webb hasn’t inveigled me into anything,” I said firmly. Though damn, I wished he would. “And our relationship is no one’s business but ours.”
Then I’d left the room with my head held high, only remembering after I’d stalked back to my classroom that a man with bills to pay probably should not be deliberately antagonizing his boss.
It was hard, though, when it involved Webb and Aiden. Webb was a devoted father, and even when we hadn’t been friends, I’d never doubted that.
I was sure Amanda loved Aiden, too. But, well, if I was being honest, it was hard to understand how a person could walk away from Webb Sunday if he wanted them in his life and in his bed, and that was the dang truth.
The man made a terrible enemy, but as a friend…ugh. He was amazing. Too amazing. Irresistibly amazing.
Case in point: I’d woken up on Saturday morning to an adorable text from him about Aiden and “hydropraetonic” plants. And the text had been signed “(This is Webb Sunday)” like I might not realize, which was ten times adorable-r.
I’d texted back a picture of my sheep clamoring around me while I fed them with the caption, “Popular!”
And it had somehow morphed into a wholethingwhere we’d texted back and forth every couple of hours for days.
Webb
(picture of an orchard full of bare trees) So… about those apple tithes. I have bad news. *sad emoji*
…
(picture of Aiden, tongue sticking out of his mouth as he affixed grass seeds to pink sponges) Hydropraetonic experiments underway. You wouldn’t know about those, Webb, but Mr. Williams does because he’s smart. *devil emoji*
…
Webb
My brother Porter is a HUSTLER. He just went sledding with Aiden and Olin… and he’s conned THE CHILDREN into carting HIM up the damn hill. I feel like I’ve failed as a parent on many levels.
…
I just asked Liz at the library if they had any “books on tape” so I could listen while I crochet, and OMG I have become my grandmother, SEND HELP.
Webb
Would love to, but I had to ask Drew to explain why your text was funny since it looked fine to me.
…
I love teaching, but good gosh, the bureaucracy.
Principal Oliver is making me fill out permission slips to have kids participate in Pick-a-Book.
A permission slip… to have a free book sent home with them!!! And these are not controversial books. We’re talking… The Boy Who Loved Words.
Sorry. I don’t mean to be a downer.
