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Something had happened between their last conversation and now. She had no idea what, but she intended to find out.
* * *
Clipboard and pen in hand, Damian went to the school’s front entrance gate and noted the types of locks. He had exited the office as quickly as he could. He tried to put on a good face, but she obviously saw right through it. Seeing the hurt and confusion in Karen’s eyes only increased his feelings of remorse. How could he explain the occasional bouts of grief that attacked him? This time had been particularly hard because on Sunday he’d actually forgotten that the day marked five years since Joyce’s death. It wasn’t until Kyle mentioned he would understand if Damian needed him to handle the first few days of the trip that Damian remembered. The anguish of that fateful day rose strong, and overwhelming sadness consumed him. But for the first time, he realized the grief didn’t change what he felt for Karen—that the feelings could coexist.
He recalled someone in one of the few grief sessions he attended saying it was possible. However, at the time, he hadn’t believed it. He also recalled several men sharing that some of the women they had dated after losing their wives felt they were competing and didn’t want the men to mention their past spouses, or had difficulty dealing with the random attacks of grief. And that was the crux of his problem. He worried that Karen would feel the same way, and he had no clue how to go about broaching the conversation. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her.
Damian stopped to jot down notes about possible entry points at the back of the playground, then continued walking. What if she couldn’t handle his past and changed her mind about them dating? Laughter and shouting drew him out of his thoughts. He turned to find children streaming onto the playground. He glanced at his watch. School would start in ten minutes. He wound his way back to the office, and a tall, good-looking woman who looked to be in her midthirties, wearing a wide smile, stopped him.
“Hello,” she said, extending her hand. “I’m Nikki Fleming, one of the fourth-grade teachers. Thank you so much for coming. This place needs an overhaul, and I know you’re just the man to do it.”
Damian lifted an eyebrow and extracted his hand when it seemed that the woman wouldn’t let go. “It’s nice to meet you. We’ll do everything we can to ensure that your students and staff have a safe school environment.” She moved closer, and he took a step back.
“If you need any suggestions, just let me know.”
“Thank you. I’d better get started. Have a nice day.” He stepped into the office he and Kyle would be using and closed the door.
Kyle chuckled. “Man, you’ve been in hibernation for five years, come out for six weeks and have a dozen women falling all over you.”
Damian shook his head, pulled out a chair and sat. “I’m not in the mood.”
“How you holding up? I know the last couple of days have been rough.”
“Yeah, but not for the reasons you’re thinking.” He gestured to the stack of folders on the table. “We have a lot to do. We’ll talk later.”
Kyle picked up a folder and opened it. “Maybe you should talk to Karen first. I saw the look on her face.”
“Maybe,” Damian murmured, picking up another folder. With the mixed signal he’d given Karen earlier, he wouldn’t blame her if she told him to get lost.
He and Kyle worked steadily over the next three hours reviewing the school’s existing emergency preparedness plan and flagging any possible gaps, stopping only for lunch before resuming the task. As the end of the day neared, the less his mind focused on the mounds of paperwork in front of him and the more it centered on Karen. Melissa joined the two men shortly before the bell rang. By the time Karen arrived and he took in her wary gaze, Damian wasn’t any closer to figuring out how to proceed.
“I know it’s been a long day for you ladies, so—” Damian began.
“Very,” Karen said, cutting him off and pinning him with a look.
His jaw tightened. “We’ll try to keep it to no more than a couple of hours,” he finished, hearing the censure in her voice. He understood it and took full blame. They hadn’t spoken since Sunday evening, or technically Thanksgiving, since a text didn’t count as conversation. Their eyes held, and then she smoothly shifted her gaze to the notepad in front of him. Taking the hint, he and Kyle went through their preliminary findings.
“I noticed that all the gates are locked once school starts and all visitors have to come through the office. Has there ever been any training for the office staff on how to handle someone who is denied entrance?” Kyle asked.
