Page 190 of Halo

***

The next morning, Grady talks the entire way to school.

He tells us about ballet, about how his teacher said his first position is getting better, about a kid named Cooper who apparently refuses to point his toes correctly, and about the fact that he thinks he might want to be a dancer and a doctor when he grows up because, according to him, there is no rule saying he can’t do both.

By the time Nick pulls into the drop-off line, I’ve almost forgotten where we’re going after this.

Almost.

Grady unbuckles himself, but instead of reaching for the door, he turns around between the seats to look at me.

“I miss you being my teacher, Mrs. Harrison.”

The softness in his voice catches me somewhere tender.

“Oh, buddy.” I reach back and straighten his glasses. “You don’t like your substitute?”

He considers that with the seriousness only a five-year-old can manage.

“She’s okay.”

“Just okay?”

He shrugs. “She’s not you.”

Nick makes a sound beside me that is suspiciously close to an aww, and I elbow him without taking my eyes off Grady.

“Well, I miss being your teacher too, but I’m going to come back as soon as my doctor says I can.”

“When?”

“I don’t know yet.”

His mouth turns down.

“But you know what you can do until then?”

“What?”

“You can show your substitute what an amazing student you are, so when I come back, she can tell me how wonderful you’ve been.”

His entire face brightens. “Okay.”

“And no terrorizing her.”

“I don’t terrorize people.”

Nick turns in his seat. “That is categorically false.”

Grady giggles, grabs his backpack, then leans between us for kisses before climbing out of the truck.

“Love you, Dad.”

“Love you too, partner.”

He looks at me.

“Love you, Mrs. Harrison.”