Just as quickly, he felt guilty for laughing. Until she looped her arm through his and tugged him toward the car.
“Let’s go. Can we pretend we hear sirens and we’re making our getaway?”
“Sure.”
“Can we just barely sneak under the railroad crossing arm right before a train whizzes past?”
He rolled his eyes. There was a lot rattling around in his head. The real estate lady had made some sense, but the truth was that he wasn’t going to lie to Wren.
Arthur wasn’t sure where that left them. But he knew one thing. Somehow, he was smiling. Because of her.
“Fine. Get in,” he said. “Buckle your seat belt and I will consider plowing through one sidewalk fruit stand.”
“You’re the best.”
In the car, Arthur pulled up directions to Home on his phone and plopped it in the cupholder. Was it the world’s safest setup? No. One day he’d love to have a minivan with a modern touchscreen, where Google Maps and Spotify and all sorts of other goodies would be at his fingertips. A flip-down screen in the back for the baby. But that was starting to feel very far away. For now, he’d have to settle for viewing the map at this harsh and confusing angle that required him to take his eyes completely off the road.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Wren said, snatching the phone and canceling the navigation.
“Home? I’m hungry.”
“No, no, no. First,” she said, “you need a redo.”
12
Arthur:Make a Difference in a Kid’s Life
“What, are you just carryingthe jars around with you everywhere now?” Arthur asked. He’d been driving full speed down the road when she’d produced his out of nowhere and forced him to draw. She was like a magician, this one, a sleight-of-hand master.
Or maybe she just kept it in her purse.
“I’ve got to say, Arthur. This one’s a little corny.”
She wasn’t wrong. It definitely gave “late 1990s DARE presentation” or “very special episode / after-school special” or even “The More You Know.” Maybe those early TV years when he was little were where he got his idea of what it meant to be a teacher. He was just old enough to have caught some reruns ofThe Magic School Busand even, later, a little bit of the tail end ofBoy Meets Worldthanks to the wonders of streaming. Those programs made teaching seem like this magical, all-rewarding thing.
He missed thinking that it was.
“Itiscorny,” he said. “And it’s also vague. It’s something an idiot college kid thought up.”
“Not an idiot, an optimist. Come on, tap into that part of yourself.”
They were stopped at a red light, and Arthur took the opportunity to shut his eyes tight, racking his brain for an idea of how he could bring this one to life.
“It’s not in your brain,” Wren said, reaching over and touching his chest with a jokey seriousness. “It’s in here.”
“Who’s being corny now?”
He thought of his students. They’d called him corny more times than he could count, or more frequently, they called himcooked. Especially during the TikTok debacle, but also every other day. He was always doing something cringe that meant he was cooked, like wearing a tie, having the wrong color socks on, or trying to educate them. He wasn’t the worst teacher on the staff. They didn’t hate him, but they didn’t particularly seem to like him, respect him, or think they needed him in any way. How exactly was he supposed to “make a difference” in one of their lives? Whatever that even meant.
“There is one kid…” he said, trailing off and remembering.
“Yeah? Go on,” Wren said.
“It’s…No. Well, maybe. I mean…I guess it’s worth a shot.”
“I don’t know who or what you’re talking about, but I one hundred percent agree.”
After a quick stop to hit the ATM and give Arthur a chance to access the school directory, they found themselves outside Martin Lamb’s listed address with three hundred dollars in cash. And a Snickers bar, but that was for Wren.
