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Twins for the Teacher
Michele Dunaway


Getting involved with her students' father is a definite no-no, but elementary school teacher Jolie Tomlinson is finding it hard to resist sexy widower Hank Friesen.And she's falling in love with his ten-year-old twins, too! Hank moved to Missouri to make a fresh start, but he never imagined that life as a single dad would be such a struggle. Good thing Jolie's on hand to ease the transition.It's been five years since his wife's death, and no woman has been able to hold his interest–until now. It could be a second chance for both of them. But first Jolie will have to tell Hank about her past–if she ever wants them to have a future.









“If you need my help, don’t hesitate to call. I don’t expect anything in return.”


Hank wished she did…. He’d never met anyone like Jolie.

She strode to the foyer and he followed at a respectable distance. She pressed down on the door handle and he moved forward then, so he could hold the door open for her. “Thank you. I can’t say it enough.”

His face was close to hers. He inhaled the light floral fragrance she wore.

She smiled at him, the right corner of her lips inching upward. “I like your kids.”

“And me?” The words seemed to blurt out of their own volition.

“You have enough on your plate. Keep things simple. Friends,” she stressed.

He didn’t want to be friends. He wanted to kiss her.


Dear Reader,

For a while now my editors have been asking me to write a book whose heroine is a teacher. Since I’m a romance writer by night/teacher by day, they figured I knew a bit about the subject.

But Jolie is no way based on me. First, she’s a twin. Second, she’s an elementary school teacher. Third, she falls in love with a man who has twins of his own. Nope, not even close to my life.

However, this book has become one of my favorites. Jolie and Hank are two people deserving a happily-ever-after. They’ve both been hurt by tragedy and they’re both scared to put their emotions out there. They need to learn that when it comes to love they must open their hearts and take a risk. While life’s not always easy, sometimes we get second chances that are even better than the first.

This book marks another milestone for me, as it’s my twentieth novel for Harlequin Books. I’m glad it was Jolie and Hank’s story. They’re pretty special to me, and I hope you’ll love them as much as I do.

Enjoy the romance,

Michele Dunaway




Twins for the Teacher

Michele Dunaway










ABOUT THE AUTHOR


In first grade Michele Dunaway knew she wanted to be a teacher when she grew up, and by second grade she knew she wanted to be an author. By third grade she was determined to be both, and before her high school class reunion, she’d succeeded. In addition to writing romance, Michele is a nationally recognized English and journalism educator who also advises both the yearbook and newspaper at her school. Born and raised in a west county suburb of St. Louis, Missouri, Michele has traveled extensively, with the cities and places she’s visited often becoming settings for her stories. Described as a woman who does too much but doesn’t ever want to stop, Michele gardens five acres in her spare time and shares her house with two tween daughters and six extremely lazy house cats that rule the roost.


First and foremost, to all my fans who have helped make this writing dream come true. Thank you. Next, to all my faraway friends, who are always in my heart: Karen Flynn, Jennifer Fly, Carrie Hilleary, Jenny Hassell and Julie Picraux. Even though we don’t see each other often, we pick up as if it’s yesterday. To Christy Janisse, Jo Anne Banker and Kay Hudson, who always make me feel like family. And for Joyce Adams Counts, whose friendship I would be remiss to forget, and to my mom, Louise Feager, for always being there.

And last but by no means least, for my new editor Laura Barth, who worked so hard to make this twenty-book milestone perfect. Thank you.




Contents


Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue




Chapter One


Enrolling your children in school should be easier than filing your federal taxes.

But it didn’t feel that way to Hank Friesen as he sat outside the principal’s office on a plastic chair two sizes too small for his six-foot frame and tried to register his ten-year-old twins in the fourth grade.

The secretary shot questions at him, rapid-fire. Yes, he knew it was April. Yes, their address was the Graham Nolter Resort and Conference Center and, yes, that was their permanent residence.

A lump formed in his throat as he continued to respond to the secretary’s inquiry. No, there was no Mrs. Friesen. His wife died five years ago. No, his children had never before been enrolled in any other elementary school. Their maternal grandmother had homeschooled them these past five years.

Hank had also provided the secretary with immunization records and copies of Ethan’s and Alli’s birth certificates. He’d filled out emergency cards in triplicate. He was now working on a health history, the last form, he hoped, as his left hand was beginning to hurt. The secretary leaned over the old-fashioned laminate-and-metal counter to check on his progress before disappearing from view again.

“Are we going to see the classrooms, Dad?” Ethan, who’d arrived ten minutes before his twin sister, Alli, kicked his legs back and forth, making a loud thunk every time the soles of his tennis shoes connected with the metal rungs of the chair’s under-the-seat book rack. He’d developed a distinctive rhythm, the staccato annoying and impossible to tune out. “So are we, Dad? Huh? Are we?”

“I don’t know,” Hank answered, wishing he’d brought the children’s Nintendo DS handheld game systems along. That would have given them something to do while they waited. He’d assumed someone would at least give the kids a tour of their new school while he completed the necessary paperwork, but so far that hadn’t happened.

He glanced at Alli. She’d bowed her head almost to her chest and sat with her hands folded in her lap. He had the urge to tickle her or something, anything to get her to crack a smile.

For a ten-year-old, Alli was far too serious. Unlike Ethan, she could sit perfectly still, prim and proper for hours on end. Where Ethan was rambunctious and boisterous, Alli was shy and demure. Ethan saw his dad’s new resort-manager job as a grand adventure. Living in a hotel meant room service, endless indoor and outdoor pools and access to all sorts of fun activities like miniature golf and ice-cream-sundae bars.

Alli hadn’t been as impressed. She’d assessed the hotel and their oversize suite with her quiet reserve before shrugging and saying, “It’s okay.”

Hank wanted to wake his daughter up, shake her out of the doldrums she’d mired herself in since they’d moved to Missouri a week earlier. His kids might have similar features—blond hair and blue eyes—but they were worlds apart.

Hank finished the form and stood. It felt great to stretch his legs. Seeing he was ready, the secretary came over and thumbed through the stack of papers. “It looks like everything’s in order,” she said.

“So they can start Monday?” he asked. He’d used the resort’s child-care services this week. He’d wanted to have the kids with him immediately on his relocation, but he still had to go to work.

“I don’t see why not,” she said. “Let me get you a school-supply list and…”

A woman walked into the office then, a teacher, Hank surmised, since the building had been locked for security purposes when they’d arrived and they’d had to be buzzed in.

She appeared to be in her thirties, a decade he’d left behind when he’d turned forty a few years ago. He was the class of 1982, Kickapoo High School, Springfield, Missouri. He’d been on the tennis team and student council with famous alumnus Brad Pitt.

The teacher stepped behind the counter and gave him a big smile, one she also directed toward his kids. “Hi,” she said, tossing her long reddish-brown hair over her shoulders.

Hank automatically smiled back. Not only did she seem nice, but she was also very attractive. Something long dormant inside him flickered to life as he shook her hand. It was attraction, he realized with a start. If only he had time for such things, he might be tempted to flirt with her a little.

“Ah, Ms. Tomlinson, you’ll probably be having one of these two. This is—” the secretary checked her paperwork “—Ethan and Alli Friesen. They’re twins entering the fourth grade.”

“Then one of you will be in my class,” Ms. Tomlinson said with another radiant smile that Hank couldn’t help but find fascinating. His fourth-grade teacher had been Mrs. Lemongrass. She’d been at least sixty. He had the urge to be a fourth grader again—but only if he could be in Ms. Tomlinson’s class.

Ethan stopped kicking his feet and stood. “I’m the oldest.”

Ms. Tomlinson’s soft green eyes sparkled with amusement. “You must be Ethan. Nice to meet you. And this is your sister—”

“Alli,” Hank filled in. His daughter had stood up, but social awkwardness had kept her from opening her mouth.

Ms. Tomlinson didn’t seem to mind Alli’s silence. “I’m glad you’re here, Alli,” she said warmly. “Welcome to Nolter Elementary. If you aren’t in my class, you’ll have Mrs. Hillhouse. We all call her Mrs. H.”

Ms. Tomlinson reached out her hand, which was long and slender. As she waited for him to offer her his hand, she stared him in the eye, meaning she was just about as tall as he was. Few women were, and Hank was impressed by how well she carried herself. She was slim but toned, and looked as if she ran every day. “I’m Jolie Tomlinson,” she said.

“Hank Friesen. I’m the new resort manager for the Nolter. We just relocated from Chicago.”

He took her hand, appreciating the firm grip. He might be older, but he had the sudden impression she was wiser, that this was her area of expertise, like hotels were his. He felt better about his decision to enroll his children in a public school. He wanted them to be out in the real world, socializing with other children, as he had been at their age.

Now that he was back in southwestern Missouri, about sixty miles south of where he’d grown up and where his parents still lived, he wanted normalcy for his kids. At least as normal as you could get, living on-site at a top-notch destination hotel on the shores of Table Rock Lake.

“Well, welcome Hank, and Ethan and Alli. I’m looking forward to working with you. My class is at art right now, so I’m on my plan time. Has anyone given you a tour?”

“We haven’t seen anything but this office,” Ethan inserted before his father could reply.

“That’s because Mrs. Johnson, our counselor, is out of the building today at some very long and drab state meeting, as is our principal, Mrs. Jones. I hate meetings,” Jolie said with a disgusted expression Hank assumed was for Ethan’s benefit.

“Me, too,” Ethan agreed, although he could have no idea what a meeting was like, having never been to one. Hank, however, had no less than three a day.

Jolie glanced at the clock on the wall. “I have ten minutes, so if we make this quick I can take you.”

She handed the secretary a single sheet of paper. “Will you make me twenty-four copies of this before we get back?”

“Not a problem,” the secretary said, and Hank wondered if she’d agreed so readily because she was glad everyone was leaving her alone.

“So you’re from Chicago?” Jolie asked as she opened the office door and led them out into the hall. Nolter Elementary was a single-story building designed in the shape of an E.

“Dad’s originally from Springfield,” Ethan said. “But we’ve lived in Chicago all my life. I’m not sure if I’m going to like Missouri.”

“I’ve lived in Missouri my whole life and like it fine,” Jolie reassured the boy.

“I live in a hotel now,” Ethan added.

“We had a house in Chicago, but we’re currently living at the Nolter,” Hank explained. “I want the kids to settle in before doing any house-hunting.”

“I’ve been to Chicago twice,” Jolie said, showing them the main corridor, onto which the library and the art and music rooms opened. “It’s a great city.”

“Dad worked at the hotel right by American Girl Place,” Alli offered. Her speaking startled Hank. He ruffled his daughter’s blond hair, so like her mother’s. Hank himself had a full head of dark hair.

Jolie showed them the cafeteria next. “Lunch is two dollars and you can set up an account that we automatically debit. Or kids can bring lunch from home. So, Alli, do you have any American Girl dolls?”

“I have Kristen, Felicity and one made to look like me,” she said.

“I always liked Kit. That’s the one I have,” Jolie said, and Hank was impressed by her ability to make such an immediate connection with his shy daughter.

“I’ve read a book about Kit,” Alli said.

“Good. We have many of the American Girl books in the library here. So—you like to read.”

“I know I do. Goosebumps are the best!” Ethan shouted as Jolie opened a door. Hank noticed that Alli fell silent the moment her brother spoke and overshadowed her. Hank made a mental note to do something about that.

“This is my classroom,” Jolie said, stepping to the side and letting them enter.

Hank hadn’t been in an elementary school since he’d been a student, well over thirty years ago. Things had changed a lot since his time. A white marker board replaced the old green or black chalkboards he was familiar with. A SMART Board currently displayed a math equation. While the SMART Board screen was about the size of the old classroom pull-down movie screens Hank remembered, that’s where the similarity ended. Using an LCD projector hooked up to the teacher’s computer, the SMART Board became an interactive display. Each student desk had a handheld computer and a clicker, both of which could interact with the board.

“I wrote a grant for the handhelds,” Ms. Tomlinson said. “Both fourth-grade classrooms have them. We even have wireless Internet on them. The clickers are for pop quizzes. They make the classroom like a game show. The children press in their responses to questions and the results come up on the SMART Board.”

“Wow,” Ethan breathed. “This is better than Grandmother’s boring workbooks.”

“They’ve been homeschooled until now,” Hank explained.

“Missouri has quite a few students who are homeschooled. It’s not uncommon, especially in this area. I’m sure they’ll settle into public school with few difficulties,” Jolie said.

Hank nodded as he watched his children explore their new environment. Alli was checking out the reading corner, which had carpet and beanbag chairs.

Jolie’s next words caught everyone’s attention. “Well, I need to go get my class from the art room, so that’ll have to end our tour for today. Let me take you back to the office.”

When they reached the office, she picked up the copies that were waiting on the counter and extended her hand again to shake Hank’s. “It was nice to meet you.” She pivoted slightly to address the children. “I’ll see you two on Monday.”

“Thank you for the tour,” Alli said politely.

“Yeah, thanks,” Ethan chimed in, belatedly remembering his manners.

Jolie smiled. “You are both very welcome. Thanks for the copies, Beth,” she told the secretary before leaving the office.

“And here are copies of your paperwork, and our school handbook,” the secretary told Hank, handing him a folder. “Do you want to put anything in their lunch accounts?”

He hadn’t thought that far ahead, but figured buying their lunches from the school cafeteria might help them fit in better. He also knew he wouldn’t have time to pack brownbag lunches, although he could probably have one of the hotel chefs whip something up.

“Sure,” he said, taking out his checkbook. He wrote a check for one hundred dollars, putting fifty into each account. That should cover the rest of the school year.

Afterward, he ushered the twins out the school doors and back to the hotel. Deep down, he hoped this relocation worked out and he worried that it wouldn’t. He’d received quite a promotion when he’d been named the Nolter’s manager. The next step up the chain would be running a bigger hotel, like the one in New York or Paris, or even back in Chicago.

As it was, he had hundreds of employees under him, including various day managers, night managers, accountants, human resources personnel, cooks and groundskeepers. Everything at the hotel, in the minds of the brass at corporate headquarters, started and ended with him.

It was a job he’d been working more than twenty years for, ever since he’d graduated from college. The Premier Corporation had fifty hotels scattered all over the world. The company promoted management from within, rarely hiring outsiders over its existing employees.

Despite the opportunities to work abroad, Hank had always requested to be kept stateside because of his wife and children. He’d even turned down a promotion to Seattle after his wife, Amanda, had told him she really didn’t want to leave Chicago and her parents.

Now, five years after her death from ovarian cancer, Hank finally felt strong enough to move forward with his life. He couldn’t put his career aspirations on hold any longer. The Nolter job was the first step in making a fresh start for himself and the twins.

Hank slid his key card into the lock of their suite. He’d taken the four-bedroom suite in the east wing. The main portion of the hotel towered thirty-five stories and offered a fabulous view of Table Rock, one of Missouri’s largest lakes.

The east and west wings of the hotel were fifteen stories tall, and their suite was on the top floor, with a view of both the lake and the golf course.

He glanced at his Rolex, a gift from the company when he’d received the promotion. Almost three. That meant Elsa, who sang in the hotel lounge at night and did child care during the day, would be available to babysit for a few hours. He’d promised the kids they could see a movie tonight, but that didn’t start until seven-thirty. If Hank hurried, he could get his reports done today, instead of waiting until Monday.



“I’M GOING TO GET Ms. Tomlinson for a teacher,” Ethan announced after their father left them yet again with Elsa.

Not that there was anything wrong with Elsa, Alli thought, ignoring her brother’s bold comment. Elsa was pretty nice as babysitters went, not afraid to take them to the indoor water park or get her blond hair wet.

Alli had blond hair, too, and she’d always been a little afraid of the water because Grandmother said the chlorine could make her hair turn green. Now that Alli was ten, she’d learned there were “clarifying” shampoos that kept that from happening.

Alli pressed the controller on the video game she and her brother were playing. She’d wanted to go swimming, but Elsa said their dad was planning on taking them to the movie so they shouldn’t get dirty.

How they would get dirty swimming in a pool was beyond Alli, and she figured that since Elsa was singing tonight she’d probably made it up. But her dad had told them he’d taken the whole day off. Once again, he’d lied.

Alli jutted her chin forward as Ethan’s game character ran across and gathered up two of the gold coins spinning on the screen. “Hey, one of those should be mine,” she protested.

“You should move faster then,” Ethan retorted. Alli bit her lower lip. Ethan got everything. He always said it was because he was born first. Alli didn’t know who’d decided to let her brother arrive before her, but she didn’t like the results one bit.

“I think I’ll play later,” Alli said, getting up off the beanbag chair. She left Ethan’s room, heading to her own. She had to admit that the hotel suite was okay.

She had a huge bedroom, her own bathroom, and she’d been allowed to bring most of her things from Chicago. Dad had even had the staff put a Playstation 3 in both her and Ethan’s rooms, meaning they didn’t have to share if they didn’t want to. Aside from a computer in each of their bedrooms, there was also a family computer with Internet access out in the living area, which was bigger than the family room at their old house. Dad had said they might be able to have a small dog or cat after they were settled for a while. She’d never had a pet. Ethan, of course, wanted a dog, but Alli really wanted a kitten. She’d held one once at the pet store and fallen in love before she’d learned she had to put it back.

Alli flopped on her bed. “I don’t care who I get,” she told herself, thinking about school. She’d prefer Ms. Tomlinson, but Alli was simply happy to be going to school. She loved Grandmother, and Grandmother had taken them to all the museums in Chicago, but Alli was tired of only being around Ethan, not that she wanted to get rid of him or anything.

She liked the idea of being around other kids, even having friends who were girls her own age. And she’d be closer to her grandparents on her dad’s side. Grandpa and Grandma Friesen were much more fun than her mom’s parents.

In Chicago, every Sunday after church, Alli had dressed up in her finest and eaten lunch at some fancy restaurant. For once, she wanted to wear jeans on Sunday. Maybe this move would turn out to be a good thing, after all.




Chapter Two


“So, I heard you and I are each getting a new student,” Carrie Hillhouse said Friday after school as she entered Jolie’s classroom.

“You heard correctly.” Jolie put aside the spelling tests she’d been grading so she could speak with the other fourth-grade teacher.

“Beth said they’ve been homeschooled by their grandmother their whole lives,” Carrie said as she sat down. She glanced at Jolie’s desk. “Ah, spelling. I gave my test yesterday. How are your kids doing?”

Jolie tapped the red pen on the desk once before setting it down. “Not too bad. The few who never study didn’t this time, either. No surprise there. I think they have permanent spring fever. I’ll reteach and retest. That will give Ethan a chance to catch up, anyway.”

“Beth said you gave them a tour?” Carrie asked, toying with her wedding ring. She was young, three years out of college, and already married. She and Jolie had become close friends during the time they’d worked together. Jolie envied her. She’d been in love once, but it hadn’t ended well.

“Yes, I met the father and the kids,” Jolie offered. “They seem like a nice family.” She shrugged, trying to stretch her shoulders. She’d been sitting grading papers for about twenty minutes. “Beth said he’s a widower.”

“Is he cute?” Carrie asked, grinning impishly.

“Never mind that,” Jolie scolded gently. “We have bigger things to worry about.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. With homeschooling they could be anywhere on the social and academic scale.” Carrie voiced Jolie’s unspoken fears. Some parents homeschooled their children and did a better job educating them than the local school district. Others used homeschooling as an excuse to be lazy, and their children were light-years behind other kids their age.

“They seem fine, but we’ll see exactly how much they know once they start attacking the curriculum. I think this is a family that values education.”

“Good.” Carrie’s relief was evident. Even after only a few years’ teaching, she knew how hard it was to toss a new kid into the mix so close to the end of the school year. “So are you and Chad going out this weekend?”

Jolie shook her head. Her love life was starting to become a sore subject. “No. I think this thing with him has fizzled.”

Chad had been Jolie’s on-and-off boyfriend for the past year. She hadn’t heard from him in about a week, probably because they were running out of things to say to each other.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Carrie said.

Jolie sighed. Chad owned a car-repair shop and they’d met when she’d needed new brakes. “Yeah, well, don’t pity me. It’s just a dent in my pretty nonexistent sex life. Not that he was that great, anyway. Heck, sex wasn’t even great during my marriage. I’m in a lifelong dry spell.”

“There’s always the local bars,” Carrie joked. “Or the sex-toy shop.”

Jolie laughed. Trust Carrie to put things into perspective, even if slightly skewed. “Perish the thought. I’m not that desperate yet!”

The women sat for a moment, each in her own thoughts. Then Carrie said, “I don’t know how you do it. I mean that in a good way. I don’t think I could be out there dating again.”

Carrie had married her childhood sweetheart. Neither had ever gone out with anyone else after meeting in eighth grade.

“You just do it,” Jolie said, picking up a stray blue pen and putting it in her desk drawer. “It’s not what I planned for my life, but I’ve learned to take it as it comes. So get home to that guy and consider yourself lucky. I’ll see you Monday.”

“Sounds good. Don’t work too hard.” Carrie rose and left and Jolie finished grading her papers.



PAPERS WERE the bane of a teacher’s existence, Jolie thought the next week while her class was at music. She pushed the stack aside, dreading the phone call she had to make.

“How are you doing?” Carrie asked, taking the chair next to Jolie’s desk. Their plan time overlapped by ten minutes, so Carrie usually popped in after dropping her class off at phys ed.

“Getting ready to make a call,” Jolie said.

Carrie winced. “Ethan?”

“Yep.”

“I don’t envy you. His sister is a dream. Be sure to tell their dad that. Maybe it’ll soften the blow.”

“Of what, telling him that Ethan…” Jolie stopped herself from saying aloud that Ethan was a monster. He really wasn’t a bad kid, and she wasn’t the type of teacher who gave up on anyone. But in four days, Ethan Friesen had so tried her patience she’d reached her tolerance limit.

Not that he was a horrible kid. Just misguided. He wasn’t accustomed to the formal structure of school. He didn’t see the reason for rules and pushed the envelope at every opportunity. Even Carrie, who taught history to both classes of fourth graders, was having difficulty keeping him under control. He liked to speak out, get up, wander around and he refused to comply with simple requests.

“It’s probably just because he’s used to being with his grandmother and not in a regular school environment. I’m going to request their Dad come in for a conference tomorrow afternoon if possible. Can you make it if it’s right after school?”

Carrie thought for a second. “Yes. It would probably be best if we were both there.”

“Then I’ll let you know if I set it up.” Jolie reached for the card she kept on each student, and, as if on cue, Carrie left the room to give her some privacy. Jolie dialed the number.

“Graham Nolter Resort and Conference Center,” a bubbly voice answered. “How may I direct your call?”

“It’s Jolie Tomlinson from Nolter Elementary. Will you please connect me with Hank Friesen?”

“Is this an emergency?” the girl asked.

“No,” Jolie said, scanning the card for a cell-phone number or even an e-mail address.

“Please hold.”

Thirty seconds passed before a deep voice answered the phone. “This is Hank Friesen.”

Jolie had talked to a lot of parents, but for some reason she felt nervous with Hank on the other end of the line, and she was pretty sure it wasn’t all because of Ethan. She forced herself to take a deep breath. “Hi, Mr. Friesen, this is Jolie Tomlinson. Is there any way you could meet me after school tomorrow for a parent-teacher conference? Ethan’s off to a bit of a rough start and I’d like to be proactive and work with you on getting him settled in.”

“You mean settled down, don’t you?” She heard Hank sigh, as if he’d been expecting this to happen. “I know Ethan can be a handful. We’ve had babysitters who’ve refused to come back after spending one night caring for him. My mother-in-law had a handle on him, but she was, in my opinion, a little too indulgent.”

“That may be,” Jolie said, her tone sympathetic. No parent liked to hear that his child wasn’t an angel, and it made her job easier that Hank seemed to be taking the news pretty well. Some parents became argumentative and immediately blamed the teacher for their child’s problems.

Jolie relaxed her fingers. “I’m thinking that tomorrow afternoon we can come up with a plan that addresses Ethan’s behavior. I’d like to set up some rewards and consequences for both school and home.”

“And that will work?” He seemed hopeful, yet skeptical.

“In my experience I’ve found it to be a perfect starting point,” she reassured him. “Having a behavior plan the child understands often ends many of the issues. I’m not saying it’ll be an overnight transformation, but it will be a beginning.”

“What time?” Hank asked.

“School dismisses at three. Could you do three-fifteen? That way Ethan and Alli are already at the latchkey program.”

She heard a shuffle of papers. “Hmm…I have an appointment at three, but I’ll have my assistant reschedule it.” He paused. “I’ll be there,” he told her finally. “This is important.”

More of her tension left. Even though she’d been contacting parents during the twelve years she’d been teaching, it never got easier. She only felt she’d developed more professionalism and understanding over the years. Parents wanted results and answers. Hopefully she could provide a little of both.

“Excellent. Thanks, Mr. Friesen. I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that she replaced the phone and sent an e-mail to Carrie saying the meeting was on.



HANK PRESSED the button, ending the call he’d taken via speakerphone after cutting short a meeting of the Nolter’s day managers. They’d been about finished, anyway, so he doubted anyone was upset the meeting had ended early.

He exhaled, trying to ease the sense of foreboding taking root. As this week had unfolded, he’d hoped nothing was wrong. He’d convinced himself that the reason Ethan didn’t have homework like his sister was because he was in a different class. Alli loved school already; Ethan claimed it was “okay.” Alli raved about what she was learning; Ethan sat sullenly at the dinner table and said nothing, which was rare for a boy who normally overshadowed and outshouted his sister.

All the wishful thinking had been for naught. Hank had hoped his son’s sullen behavior was a phase related to the adjustment of going to an actual school, instead of being taught by his grandmother. Hank had done research on Nolter Elementary, and it had won many educational awards.

Hank glanced at his personal organizer and then pressed the intercom button on his phone. His administrative assistant answered immediately. “I need to reschedule my three o’clock tomorrow. Tell Stan to bring me the full catering report at—” Hank flipped the pages of the planner “—eight forty-five on Monday. As for me, mark me as off-site as of two-thirty tomorrow afternoon. If it’s an emergency, you can reach me on my pager.”

“Will do,” she said, disconnecting.

Hank picked up the five-by-seven framed portrait in front of him and leaned back in his chair. It was the last picture taken of the entire family, right after Ethan and Alli had turned four. They’d had a formal portrait done; the entire family had dressed in blue so that they coordinated. Everyone smiled broadly and appeared extremely happy, but if you looked closely, you could see the hollow circles around Amanda’s eyes.

She’d been so brave, so full of gentle spirit until the very end, which had been mercifully quick. Hank’s throat constricted slightly and he touched her face, as if trying to run a finger down her cheek. Instead, he obliterated her face entirely, reminding him she was but a memory of what should have been. They’d deserved it all. They hadn’t had enough time. Would they even be in this situation with Ethan if Amanda had lived? He’d lost the love of his life; his children had lost their mother. Everyone, especially Amanda, had lost the future they’d deserved.

No one ever said life was fair. Hank had learned that lesson many times over. He forced away the melancholy and returned the frame to its place between recent pictures of Ethan and Alli. He had to focus on the future, not on the hopes and dreams they’d all lost.

He was doing the best he could to manage without her, and, damn it, his efforts had to be enough.




Chapter Three


Hank had never attended a parent-teacher conference before. As he strode across the parking lot, he received a few odd glances from mothers in cars waiting to pick up their children.

The few male teachers who taught at Nolter probably didn’t dress in business suits. Maybe the mothers thought he was a book salesman or something.

Hank grimaced as he entered the building. He’d thought about changing first, but he’d run out of time as his meeting with the head accountant had run late. Time was one of those things Hank never seemed to have enough of, no matter how well he delegated.

Besides, he was comfortable in his attire. America had gone casual, and a suit still said class and power. That gave him a sense of security in this unfamiliar territory he was entering. He stepped into the office and announced to the secretary he had a meeting with Jolie Tomlinson.

The secretary had him sign in on a form. “She’s expecting you. Just go down to her classroom. Do you remember the way?”

Hank nodded. He found Jolie Tomlinson’s room, knocked on the metal door frame and entered.

“Hi.” She rose to her feet and wiped her hands on her denim jumper before offering him her hand. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“Like I said, this is important,” he replied. He took a breath and tried to relax his shoulders.

She nodded. “Of course. I can tell you are a man who cares very deeply for his children.”

Were there parents who simply didn’t care and wouldn’t show up? Hank wondered. The thought was appalling, but he remembered news reports he’d read while living in Chicago and realized that sadly, such parents did exist.

“So what seems to be Ethan’s main problem?” Hank asked, cutting to the chase and steeling himself for the worst. She’d gestured to an adult-size chair placed in front of her desk. He sat. About four feet separated them.

“Ethan is having a few issues accepting authority. He has a very dominant personality. He can’t shout out the answers to every question. He needs to share playground toys. When a teacher asks him to do something, he should do it immediately. Ethan has had to have a few time-outs for failing to meet class expectations.”

Hank understood the concept of time-out, which was when a student was removed from the group. “So are these punishments during class?”

“We like to think of them as consequences and, no, they happen at recess. We operate on a check system. First check is a warning. Second check a student loses five minutes of recess, and the third check ten. Four checks is the whole recess and five checks means the child is sent to the office.”

“How many check marks has Ethan had?”

“I keep track of them on this clipboard.” Jolie passed a clipboard over and Hank saw today’s sheet. At least, aside from Ethan, there were two other children on the list.

“Yesterday he had four check marks. I kept him inside during the entire twenty-minute afternoon recess. Instead of sitting quietly or reading, he kicked the underside of his desk the entire time. He’s also not doing any homework. This morning I found a lot of the workbook pages I assigned wadded up in his backpack.”

“I wondered about that. Alli seems to have at least a half hour of homework every night and Ethan always says he has none.”

“Carrie Hillhouse and I do a lot of team teaching. She’d planned to attend this meeting, but she had an emergency. She teaches my class social studies, for example, and I teach hers science. We do a lot of the same lessons and we’re planning to take both our classes on a field trip to the Shepherd of the Hills fish hatchery just below the Table Rock Dam the second week of May. We’re studying pond and river habitats, and the hatchery is the largest trout-production facility in Missouri. I’d hate for Ethan to not be able to join us.”

Hank knew many hotel guests visited the site, but he hadn’t yet been there himself. He hadn’t done any Branson shows either, and Branson had more theater seats than Broadway in New York City. “I think Ethan would like to see the fish,” Hank said.

Jolie brushed a loose tendril of hair from her face. Her hair was a soft brown that looked almost auburn in the light of her desk lamp. And Hank wondered how silky it would feel. As he had the first time he’d seen her, he couldn’t help noticing that Jolie Tomlinson was extremely attractive. He had the sudden urge to find out…He shook his head. She was his kids’ teacher. What was he thinking?

“Yes, Ethan has told me he wants to go on the trip,” Jolie responded. “And I think we can use the trip as extra incentive for him to improve his behavior. Your son is a very smart boy.

“He loves to read, so that’s not a problem area. I tested him in math, and he’s low. But not too low,” she added quickly. “I think it’s more that his grandmother didn’t teach him a few concepts other kids his age learn, rather than any lack of ability on Ethan’s part. Some after-school tutoring would bring him up to grade level by the end of the year. I’m confident he’ll catch on quickly.”

“Will that be available during latchkey?” Hank asked, suddenly overwhelmed by everything. They had yet to discuss the behavior plan.

He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back off his face. Fatherhood didn’t come with an instruction manual, and at the moment Hank really wished it did. Luckily it seemed that Jolie had the answer. She was the professional and he needed her help. “Just tell me what I need to do.”



SHE WAS LOSING him. She’d seen the eyes of many a parent glaze over when discussing their children’s problems.

She knew the symptoms. The parents, or parent in this case, were well-adjusted people. They held good jobs, made decent money. They loved their offspring and weren’t abusive or neglectful. So how could they have children who had issues? They always figured she somehow knew all the answers.

Unfortunately neither of her college degrees came with magic wands. Still, she’d been taught some solutions and developed tenacity. You kept applying various strategies until one clicked. Something about Hank made her desire to help even stronger than usual. Maybe she was simply a sucker for a handsome face.

No, that wasn’t it. She empathized with his plight. She wanted the best for him and his kids, the same thing she wanted for all her students and their parents. She reassured herself her motives were purely professional.

“Mr. Friesen,” she began, careful of the words she used. “Ethan is a ten-year-old boy. He’s not showing any signs of anything but being a normal boy who hasn’t grown up attending regular school. I’m planning on working with him after school to teach him math. I also think this will help with some of the behavior issues, as he’ll be getting extra face time with me. I suspect some of the motivation behind his behavior is that he wants my attention and is willing to do negative things to get it. If he can have my attention in a positive way, such as in a one-on-one tutoring session, that should reduce his outbursts.”

“So that’s math. How will the behavior plan work?” Hank asked.

“I have a copy of the plan I use with another student. I will be tweaking it slightly for Ethan.”

Jolie handed him the sheet of paper. “Basically for every half day Ethan goes without a check mark, he earns one point. At the end of the week he should have ten points. You’ll see the redemption chart at the bottom of the page. The first reward, which is five minutes extra recess time, is achievable after ten points. If he gets a check mark, he doesn’t lose his previous points, but it will take him longer to earn the reward, since he won’t earn any points when he gets a check.”

“Do you think he can go a week?” Hank asked. His gray eyes held her gaze. He had nice eyes…She blinked and glanced away.

“I’m going to allow Ethan to earn the first reward after six points or three days. It’s a teaser, but like a free month of cable or Internet, the reward is designed to hook you into using the program and staying with it.”

Hank nodded. “What about home?”

He hadn’t objected, which was a huge positive. “I would suggest that you reinforce everything I do here. For homework completion he earns one point. For each day with no checks he earns a point. Then place a value on something he really wants and have him earn it.”

Hank frowned as he contemplated the plan. “Should I discipline him if he gets check marks at school?”

“That’s up to you. I’m already giving him consequences here in the classroom. But taking away his video-game system or not letting him watch television until his homework is done or until he behaves the next day would tell him that you want him to act properly no matter where he is. The key is, you must be consistent. You can’t back down. If you do, your plan and mine will fail.”

“Do you have kids?” he asked.

The question caught her off guard and she swallowed hard. “No.”

He waited, then continued speaking when she didn’t say anything more. “I guess we can try this. We’re already in a period of flux, so maybe some set guidelines would help. I know this is an unsettled time for the kids. They were five when their mother died of ovarian cancer. And their grandmother has played a huge role in raising them since then. This is our first real attempt at being just the three of us on our own.”

Jolie nodded her encouragement, appreciating that he was opening up to her. He was a man of strong character, the kind of man she’d always hoped to marry. She smiled. “I understand and please be assured I’m going to do everything I can to help you. Knowing your background helps.”

Hank’s pager beeped. “Sorry.” He removed the pager from his belt and pressed a button, frowning as he read the number. “This isn’t good. Will you excuse me a moment? It’s work.”

“Certainly,” Jolie said. Hank stood and headed to the hallway. Through the open door, she watched him take out his cell phone, make a call and pace as he gave instructions to whoever was on the other end. She could hear snippets of his side of the conversation now and then, something to do with a corporate report and some revenue figures.

Jolie reached forward and looked over the behavior plan she’d handed Hank. In her conversations with Ethan he’d often complained that his dad worked all the time. She frowned. Hank had been interrupted in the middle of a scheduled conference. Surely the hotel could survive without him for an hour.

Hank was obviously struggling, like many single parents, to make things work for his family. They’d probably all been happy once, before his wife’s illness. Hank was the provider; his wife was probably the stay-at-home nurturer. And then the grandmother had replaced her in that role. Now it was just Hank, all by himself, living in a hotel where the job was twenty-four/seven, trying to help his children settle into a new town and a new life. He relied on staff for roles that should be filled by family. The balance was upset. Hank needed help to keep his little family together.

He finished his call and came back into the room. “I’m sorry about that,” he apologized. “I cleared my afternoon, but emergencies come up. It goes with the territory, I guess.”

She smiled sympathetically. “Are you going to be able to pick up the children after our meeting? Ethan mentioned that you’d said they might get to do something touristy tonight. He’s worried that because of our talk he might not get to go.”

“I’ll sit down with him tomorrow and discuss everything. Tonight we have tickets to the Dolly Parton Dixie Stampede. I heard it was good. All finger food and a trick-horseback-riding show.”

“I haven’t seen it, but, yes, it’s supposed to be fantastic. I’d dress in jeans, though.”

Hank’s smile split his face and Jolie felt a slight pang of longing. While many men in their midforties were sporting beer bellies and bald spots, Hank had aged like George Clooney. He was like a fine wine, only getting better with age.

His hair was rich and thick. His gray eyes crinkled at the corners, but those tiny laugh lines only added character to his handsome face. She’d definitely be interested if she’d met him in another place and another time.

It was an unspoken rule that you didn’t date your students’ parents. Not that Hank would be interested in her, anyway. The man had enough baggage and complications in his life. If he did date, he’d probably choose someone more glamorous and worldly. She had no idea what his wife had been like, but if she was half as pretty as her daughter, she’d been beautiful.

“I’ll wear jeans,” Hank responded to her earlier comment. “Ethan and Alli don’t know it yet, but they’re going to be special guests and participate in one of the events.”

“That sounds wonderful. Ethan will really like that. Even more, I think he’ll enjoy spending time with you,” Jolie said. “I’ll be telling him about the behavior plan on Monday. When you talk to him tomorrow, feel free to let him know it’s coming. The more you show your support for what I do here at school, the better.”

“I’m happy to help in any way,” Hank said. He reached for the copy of the plan, folded it in thirds and tucked it into an inside jacket pocket. He stood again, and Jolie noticed the cut of his suit. It certainly hadn’t come off the rack as her brothers’ suits had, and she thought the three Tomlinson boys looked pretty good all decked out. Hank was divine.

“Thank you for coming in,” Jolie said, rising to her feet. She didn’t tower over him, which made a nice change from a lot of the other men she met. Growing up, she’d endured plenty of jokes about the weather up there, and, no, she didn’t play basketball. “If there’s anything I can do, don’t hesitate to let me know.”

She reached into a business-card holder and handed him a card. “This is the direct line into my classroom. If I can’t answer, you’ll get my voice mail.”

“Great.” He handed her one of his cards. “The best way to reach me is to page me. My e-mail address and pager number are at the bottom.”

“Thank you. I’ll e-mail you Monday afternoon and let you know how the day goes.”

“That sounds great.” Hank reached out and shook her hand, and this time Jolie noticed how firm but gentle his grip was. A delicious shiver ran up her arm from the contact. “I appreciate everything you’re doing for Ethan.”

And with that, he was out the door. It was Friday and there were five weeks of school left before summer vacation. She had plenty to do, but for the first time in a long time, she was too distracted to think about work.

Hank had unnerved her. He was the kind of man she’d dreamed about long ago when she’d believed in fairy tales. And he was way out of her league.



“SO HOW’S SCHOOL going? Ready for summer break?”

“Am I ever not?” Jolie answered her mother with a chuckle. Jolie lifted the bowl of potato salad and trekked the short distance to the oversize screened-in porch where all the food would be set out. It was Sunday, two days after her conference with Hank, and the entire Tomlinson clan had gathered to celebrate her sister Jennifer’s twenty-eighth birthday.

Located about twenty minutes north of Branson, the hundred-acre farm where Jolie had grown up had been in the Tomlinson family for three generations. Her older brother, Bill, had recently bought ten acres adjoining her parents’ land and built a house for his wife and kids.

Ten of Jolie’s nieces and nephews were running around. Three were Bill’s, two were Jennifer’s, four were her brother Clay’s and one was her twin brother Lance’s. The only child not moving was Lance and his wife’s newest addition, ten-month-old Natalie, who slept in the battery-operated baby swing, oblivious to the noise around her. There were eleven grandchildren in all, one short of a dozen.

Jolie’s nieces and nephews ranged in age from Natalie to Chris, who was turning twelve next weekend. That meant another party to attend, this time at Bill’s house.

Through the screen, Jolie took a second to watch the kids run through the yard. She was the only one without children and a husband. Her parents hadn’t liked her ex-husband much. He was a teacher, and her father, a retired superintendent of a nearby school district, had told Jolie after her divorce that, had Reggie applied to his district, he would never have hired him. Jolie still saw Reggie on occasion because he taught science at Nolter High School and coached the football team. He’d remarried and his wife stayed at home with their two young kids.

“So how’s Chad?” Jennifer asked, entering the screen porch carrying a green-bean casserole.

“Over,” Jolie said. “Sent him an e-mail last night, got one back this morning. Mutual dissolution via the Internet. No blood. No tears. I spent last night with the latest Nora Roberts novel.”

“Probably better in the long run. He didn’t really seem to fit in here. He was far too stodgy. But now who are you going to take to Alison’s wedding?”

“I hadn’t thought about it,” Jolie said. Their cousin Alison was marrying some big-shot banker in early June. Word was that dinner was sixty dollars a plate and at least 250 people would attend. “I’ll probably just RSVP for one.”

“You can’t go alone to these things. Aunt Melanie told Mom they were doing seating charts and everything,” Jen chided. “It’s at the Nolter in the grand ballroom, so you know it’ll be a very formal event.”

“I can bring Carrie,” Jolie suggested.

Jen shook her head. “You took Carrie to cousin Brian’s wedding. You cannot keep dragging your female friends to these things. The reception is going to be hoity-toity. You know how Mom’s sister always tries to outdo her. For Mom’s sake you’ve got to bring someone who’s male and hopefully attractive. Don’t you have anyone who can be a mercy date?”

Hank Friesen’s image popped into Jolie’s head. As if. “Everyone I know is married now,” Jolie said with a shrug. Such was her life. Most guys she’d dated in the past few years had ended up being best buddies, not long-term love interests. Maybe that came from having a twin brother, or more likely from a serious lack of chemistry.

“Well, you have to find someone. You have a little over a month. That should be plenty of time.”

“Okay, I’ll RSVP for two,” Jolie conceded.

“Good.” Jennifer’s gaze caught something in the yard and she immediately began shouting at her seven-year-old daughter, Suzy. “Hey! Knock that off! Put that down!”

Suzy had gotten out the garden hose and was spraying some of the younger children, soaking them through. But they were laughing and running into the spray, and looked as if they were having a great time. “I guess it’s a good thing the day’s warm. Clay, come get your kids and make sure mine behaves. Mom, we’re going to need some beach towels,” Jennifer called as she went back inside.

Clay hadn’t yet appeared to retrieve his kids, and Suzy seemed in no hurry to put down the hose or stop spraying her cousins, so Jolie stepped outside onto the back lawn to keep an eye on them. Suzy sprayed her cousins again.

“Suzy, your mom told you to put that away,” Jolie said.

“Do I have to?” Suzy asked, turning to face Jolie, the hose and all its streaming water moving in sync with her.

Jolie jumped back as water splattered her white T-shirt and khaki shorts. “Suzy!”

“Oops!” Suzy’s face scrunched up as she realized what she’d done.

“It’s fine. Don’t cry. Just put the hose down,” Jolie said patiently.

Suzy dropped the offending green rubber object as all the other wet cousins gathered around her. “You soaked Aunt Jolie. You’re gonna get in trouble,” they all seemed to chorus.

The situation didn’t improve when Clay arrived and assessed the scene. He worked to hold in his laughter at finding his sister soaked. “Cute bra, sis.” He turned off the water at the spigot.

“You can be such a jerk.” His wife, Lynn, had appeared, and she tossed Jolie one of the towels she’d brought.

“Thanks,” Jolie said, praying her face stopped flaming. She wore basic beige, for goodness’ sake.

“You’re welcome.” Lynn looked at her husband of ten years. “Get inside and go find some of the spare clothes your mother keeps. The food’s all ready.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Clay winked at Jolie as he escaped.

“Are you mad at me?” a small voice asked. Wrapped in a towel, Suzy approached her aunt.

“Oh, sweetie, it was an accident.” Jolie squatted down to Suzy’s level. “I’m sure your grandma has clothes for me, too. I can wear one of her T-shirts.”

Suzy’s face lost some of its wariness. “She has big T-shirts.”

Jolie pulled Suzy toward her and gave her a hug. “She does. The biggest.”

“Okay. Inside.” Jennifer had returned to retrieve her daughter. “But first…” she prompted.

“I’m sorry,” Suzy said automatically.

Jolie gave her niece one final hug. “And I forgive you.”

“She’s going to wear one of Grandma’s T-shirts,” Suzy told her mom as they moved off.

With the towel wrapped around her midsection, Jolie followed everyone as her siblings gathered up their kids and moved onto the screened porch. When her father had added the structure, he’d made it supersize, and weather permitting, every family gathering was held there. She made her way to her parents’ bedroom where she snagged a gray Reed Springs School District shirt from the walk-in closet.

She paused for a moment after she put it on. She wondered if Ethan and Alli had ever squirted each other with a hose or attended huge family events. She’d been unable to get the twins out of her mind. As a twin herself, she couldn’t help feeling a special connection to them. It must be a little lonely with just the two of them. She and Lance had shared a womb, but once they’d been born they’d been kid two and three respectively in what would turn out to be a total sibling set of five, only a year to eighteen months between each of them.

As a child, when Jolie had first discovered the truth about how human babies were made—being on a farm she’d always understood the animal process—she’d found it a bit gross that her mom had popped out her kids in such quick succession. Now that Jolie was older, she appreciated having a large family, especially one so tightly knit and close in age. Family gatherings occurred frequently, and Lance and Jennifer were two of her best friends and her greatest support system.

Ethan and Alli had been around each other so much they probably hadn’t come to appreciate the special bond they shared as siblings and as twins. As Jolie stepped back onto the screened porch, she saw at least four kids right around Ethan and Alli’s age. Perhaps she could introduce her nieces and nephews to Ethan and Alli, give them someone to play with.

Jolie shook her head. She was tutoring Hank’s children after school on her own time. That was already going above and beyond her teaching contract. Taking the Friesen twins under her wing by introducing them to some new friends was not necessary.

But what could it hurt? a little voice inside her head asked. You could help them.

Jolie frowned. She hated that little voice. It often pestered her to death until it got its way. So what if she identified with the twins, understood their love-hate relationship with each other? They’d learn through experience, just as she and Lance had.

Her conscience couldn’t be silenced. It’s only until the end of the year. Then they go to fifth grade. You’ll be just a face in the hall, a former teacher, one remembered fondly. Think of all those nights your dad was gone on school-district business. You understand.

“Jolie, you better get in line or you won’t get any green beans,” Clay called.

“There’s more in the oven,” their mother admonished him, and as Jolie went to get her plate, she tried to ignore her conscience.



“DADDY! WATCH ME!”

Hank set down the report he was reading and watched his daughter slide down the curvy slide into the hotel pool. The Nolter had opened its outdoor pool this weekend, which was perfect, since the weekend was unusually warm.

He clapped for Alli, then checked on Ethan’s location. Under the watchful eye of the lifeguard, his son was diving off the diving board. Hank turned his attention back to his report, but finding his concentration shot, set it aside. So far his children had adjusted to life in Branson. Both had made friends. Their grades were coming along and Ethan’s behavior had improved. They seemed to like school, and Hank attributed that to one person, Jolie Tomlinson.

He knew she’d gone well beyond the call of duty. Ethan and Alli raved about Jolie every day. Hank actually found himself looking forward to hearing the stories his twins told. In each, he tried to learn more about their pretty teacher.

Hank reached for the iced tea on the table next to him and took a long drink. He’d dated a few times after Amanda’s death, but no one had captured his attention quite like Jolie, a woman completely off-limits.

“Dad? You ever going to come in?” Alli’s head appeared at the edge of the pool, her gaze expectant. She hopped out and walked to him.

Hank set the glass down. He’d learned long ago that there were some things, like cancer, that you couldn’t control. Making time for his children was something he did have a say in. Alli shouldn’t have to ask. He rose to his feet and gave his daughter a sideways glance. She seemed to anticipate his words for she giggled and started for the pool as he yelled, “Last one in’s a rotten egg.”




Chapter Four


The call from Hank Friesen came two weeks later, at five-fifty on a Thursday night.

“Thank goodness you’re still there,” were his first words.

“Mr. Friesen?” Although she’d only spoken with him briefly a few times since their face-to-face meeting, she’d recognize that deep voice anywhere. Today it held a touch of desperation.

“Call me Hank,” he insisted. “I’ve been trying to get through to the latchkey program, but they don’t have a phone number.”

“No, they use the phone in the office,” Jolie explained.

“That’s closed,” he stated.

Well, technically the door was open, but everyone had gone home. Jolie had a report due in a week for the state agency that provided her technology grant, so she’d stayed late to work on that.

She really needed to get a life beyond her four classroom walls.

Hank didn’t mince words. “Look, I’m stuck in traffic. It’s horrible on the strip, so I got off onto the red route. Maybe I’m on the blue. Whatever color it is, it’s not moving, either. I’m going to be late picking up Ethan and Alli, but I’m on my way. Will you let them know? Whatever the cost, I’ll pay it.”

Branson, entertainment mecca of the Midwest, was known for its horrible traffic. The city had spent millions building new roads and color-coding them. Still, anything could cause a snag.

“How about I just go get Ethan and Alli and I’ll keep them here with me? I’ll prop the side door open with a rug. You’ll see my car by the door. It’s a powder-blue Prius.”

“Will they let you take them? I didn’t put you on the contact sheet.”

“I get Ethan daily for after-school tutoring. It should be fine for me to check out Alli, as well. Just get here in one piece. Take your time. No heroics.”

“Okay, thanks.” He disconnected and Jolie rose to her feet. She needed a break from sitting and typing, anyway. When she reached the cafeteria, where the latchkey program was held, Mrs. Monahan was signing out her daughter, leaving only the Friesen twins. Ethan was tapping his fingers on the table and Alli had two crayons and some paper out. Everything else had been cleaned up.

“Hey, Sam. I’m taking Ethan and Alli. Their dad’s stuck in traffic.”

Sam Jackson, a seventysomething retired schoolteacher, blinked. “I’m not sure that’s in the policy.”

Jolie ignored the curious glance of the teenage latchkey assistant and gave Sam her best smile. “It’ll be fine. I just spoke with their dad. You could call him on his cell and confirm. He’s at least twenty minutes away. I don’t want you two to have to stay. You have his cell on the paperwork?”

“I want to go with Ms. Tomlinson,” Ethan declared. “It’s boring at the end of the day. I don’t want to just sit here.” He kicked the underside of the table for emphasis and Jolie shot him The Look. He quieted immediately. Since the implementation of his behavior plan, he’d been much better. Still, Ethan struggled. No one changed overnight.

“I guess it’s okay,” Sam finally conceded, probably having no real desire to stay past 6:00 p.m. with an edgy Ethan.

“Great!” Ethan whooped. He was already on his feet and grabbing his backpack from the hook. Alli moved a lot more slowly, gathering up the crayons first.

“Where do I sign?” Jolie asked.

Soon she ushered Alli and Ethan into her classroom. “Both of you put your backpacks on the hooks. The custodian hasn’t been in here yet, but that doesn’t mean we can make a mess. Is everyone’s homework done?”

“I finished in latchkey,” Ethan announced.

“I have social studies to do, but I need the Internet,” Alli said. “I’ll do that at the hotel.”

Jolie noted that Alli used the word hotel, not home. “Games are okay if you put them back. The reading center is always good. Off-limits are my computers, the handhelds and the art supplies. Any questions? I’m going to be working on my report if you need me. Don’t hesitate to interrupt. I’m not so busy I can’t stop.”

Both children stared at her and then scattered, Alli to the reading area and Ethan to the games. Jolie went back to her computer.

About five minutes later Alli’s plaintive voice cut through the silence. “Stop it, Ethan.”

Jolie swiveled in her chair so she could assess the situation. Bored with playing games alone, Ethan had cleaned up and moved over to the reading area. He was currently humming some unidentifiable tune, distracting his sister from the book she’d chosen.

“Ethan, I need your help,” Jolie called. He came over to her desk and she pointed. “See all those papers? They’re for tomorrow. I would appreciate it if you’d put one of those on everyone’s desk. That way they’ll have them first thing in the morning.”

Jolie watched as Ethan did as she asked. Her brother Lance had often gotten bored easily and would torment her. Unfortunately, having Ethan pass out papers was only going to last a minute or two. And they had at least ten more minutes to kill before Hank arrived.

Maybe the truth is you wouldn’t make a very good mother.

This time her inner voice reflected something her ex-husband had said long ago, right before he’d filed for divorce. Sure, she’d wanted more kids, but she hadn’t been ready. Not so soon after the tragedy….

Jolie frowned, stood and pushed the painful memory aside. Ethan had distributed the last paper and was bringing the extras to her desk. The fact was, at this time in her life, she was no longer a mother. She was a teacher. Educators learned how to improvise. She clicked the mouse, closing her saved document. She’d finish it later. She turned on the SMART board. “Why don’t you draw me a picture?” she suggested.

“What of?” Ethan asked as he handed her the papers.

“I don’t know. What do you like to draw? Surprise me,” Jolie suggested. She walked over to where Alli sat reading an American Girl story. “Is that a good book?”

“I’ve read it before,” Alli said.

“So you like it?” Jolie pressed. Carrie had said that Alli was quiet. She’d made a couple of friends, but she was the shy one in the group.

“It’s okay,” Alli said. “It’s a Girls of Many Lands book. Cecile’s afraid of being put in the Bastille. She ends up banished, but she gets sent to school at St. Cyr, instead.”

“That’s how the book ends,” Jolie said, seeing the correlation Alli was making. “Do you think you’ve been banished?”

Alli shrugged. “I’ve been sent to school. I liked the first few days. But I thought it would be a lot different.”

Jolie’s concern rose. “You don’t like school?”

“I don’t know,” Alli said. Her lip quivered slightly and then she blurted, “Mrs. H is great. But some of the boys are teasing me. They say I’m freaky ’cause I never went to school before.”

“Does Mrs. H know?” Jolie said, not surprised when she saw Alli shake her head. Carrie would have quashed that nonsense immediately. Teachers received in-service training every fall on harassment and bullying, including how to spot it and stop it. One of the things Nolter Elementary prided itself on was its character-building program and being a place where everyone felt welcome.

“I don’t want to tell her,” Alli said. “Grandma told me this would happen, but I didn’t want to believe it. She didn’t want us to go.”

“Of course she didn’t,” Jolie said, sitting down on the carpet. “Your grandmother loves you very much. I’m sure she misses you.”

“I miss her.” Her face scrunched up and a tear escaped before Alli bit back the rest of the waterworks. “She and Dad fought a lot before we moved. She told him he was being pigheaded and stupid. I’m not sure how he can have a pig head, but I’m sure it’s not good. I know what stupid means.”

Jolie kept her tone compassionate. “Your dad thought this would be a great change for you and your brother. A way for the three of you to be your own family.”

Alli folded her hands in her lap. “I know…and we’re closer to Grandma and Grandpa Friesen now. They’re fun. We haven’t seen them yet, though. Dad’s been too busy. I liked his old job better. We saw him more.”

The voice in Jolie’s head told her not to get involved, but it was too late, she knew. She already was. “My dad was gone a lot, too,” Jolie said, her heart going out to the little girl.

“Really?” Alli’s blue eyes widened.

Jolie nodded. “Yep. My dad was a superintendent. That means he ran the whole school district.”

“So he was your boss,” Alli said.

“No, he worked at a different school district and I wasn’t a teacher yet. But he had to be at school-board meetings and community dinners. He also attended basketball games and school plays. He wasn’t around much.”

Alli stared at her hands. “Marissa says her dad works from home and she sees him all the time.”

“That’s because Marissa’s dad is a real-estate agent and his main office is in his basement,” Jolie said. “Lots of dads are gone. You know Joey in your class? His dad is in the army and he won’t be back until August. He’s in Iraq.”

Alli appeared to think about that, her chin coming up so she could study Jolie’s face.

“You still don’t have to like it, though,” Jolie said quickly.

Alli’s brow creased as she absorbed this piece of information. “No?”

“No,” Jolie confirmed. “You just have to know that your father loves you very much. That’s the most important thing. He does love you or he wouldn’t have called me, frantic, when he knew he was going to be late. Being a dad is hard work, especially in your case. He’s doing double duty.”

“I don’t remember my mom much anymore,” Alli confided. “I have pictures of her, though. She was blond, like me and Ethan.”

“I’m sure your mom loved you very much, too. She’s in heaven and probably very happy that your dad brought you here.”

“My grandma said she wouldn’t be.” Alli’s tone was matter-of-fact.

“Grandmas don’t always know everything,” Jolie said, not impressed that Alli’s grandmother had burdened a ten-year-old with such a message. “Your mom would want your dad to be happy. He likes his new job, doesn’t he?”

She gave a quick nod. “I think so. He said it’s what he’s always wanted.”

“Well, doing a job you love is important. I love my job, too. And see, I’m here late.”

“You don’t have kids,” Alli pointed out.

“No, I don’t,” Jolie said, the familiar pang of sadness washing over her. She brushed the feeling aside and concentrated. “But even if I did have kids, sometimes I would have to work late. Like Mrs. Monahan.”

“She picks up Kelly right before latchkey closes every day. At least my dad’s early sometimes. He tries to be there by five-fifteen,” Alli said, giving her dad some credit.

“See?” Jolie said. “In Kelly’s family, she lives only with her mom. Her mom has to work. You live only with your dad.”

“I don’t get why people have to work. No one seems to like it,” Alli said.

Jolie sighed. Her siblings complained that their children thought money grew on trees. “People work to pay their bills. Things like houses, cars, clothes and food aren’t free.”

“Dad uses a charge card.”

“You still have to pay that. Just all at once,” Jolie said.

“Oh.” Alli considered that.

“Dad!” Ethan shouted. “See what I made?”

Jolie swiveled her head to see Hank Friesen standing in the doorway, as usual impeccable in his dark blue suit. She panned her gaze from him to the SMART board, where Ethan had drawn a picture of a boy playing baseball. He had some raw talent for cartooning.

“I hope they weren’t too much trouble,” Hank said, his gaze assessing Jolie and making her self-conscious.

Alli clambered to her feet and rushed over to her dad. Jolie stood.

“We’ve been good,” Ethan announced. “I passed out papers to every desk and then got to draw on the SMART board.”

“I guess that’s a good perk,” Hank said, hugging his daughter before catching Jolie’s attention. He winked at Jolie and something inside her stomach danced. She placed a hand over the area to stop the sensation. “So what did you do?” he asked Alli.

“I read a book,” she said.

“I hope it was good.” Hank smiled.

“I’ve read it before. It’s okay,” Alli said.

“Go get your stuff off the hooks,” Jolie instructed, deciding to take charge. Hank’s presence had unsettled her. He was too attractive for his own good, like a sweet displayed in a bakery window. Too bad she couldn’t indulge.

Ethan and Alli rushed to do as she’d asked.

“Thank you,” Hank said, stepping toward Jolie. “Turns out there was a three-car accident, which is why traffic was all tied up.”

“It’ll take forever for the mess to clear, then,” Jolie replied, trying to calm her heartbeat. Hank was off-limits.

“I know. I figured I’d take the kids out to dinner before trying to get back. It’s snarled in both directions. All we’ll do is sit in a bumper-to-bumper jam again.”

“Eating’s a good idea. The last snack they had was at three-thirty.”

“It was only a cookie and some apple juice,” Ethan inserted as he bounced up with his backpack in tow. “We didn’t get seconds because Sam didn’t have enough for everyone. I’m hungry. Let’s go to McDonald’s.”

“I’m sick of McDonald’s. You always have to eat there. I want to go somewhere I like for a change,” Alli protested. “Dad, can I pick? Ethan always picks.”

“I don’t like where you like,” Ethan argued. “I want some McNuggets.”

“Well, I don’t. Da-ad,” Alli whined.

“I was thinking we’d go someplace where you sit down with menus,” Hank tried.

“That’s just like at the hotel,” Ethan said. “I’m tired of sitting in the restaurant. I want drive-thru.”

“I don’t,” Hank said.

“I don’t want to eat where your food comes out through a window unless it’s Arby’s,” Alli said. “I want roast beef.”

“You two are worse than my brother Lance and I ever were,” Jolie interrupted. Her teacher-voice chastisement had both children staring at her. “Your dad just drove through traffic and there was an accident. Everyone’s hungry and you can’t get home for a while. Sitting down someplace might be good. My family and I always sat at a table. We did not eat in the backseat of a car.”

“I’m tired of fancy,” Ethan said, and Hank rolled his eyes heavenward.

“I’m tired of this debate,” Hank said. He glanced at Jolie. “Is there a place you’d suggest? We have at least an hour to kill.”

“Can you stand Chuck E. Cheese’s?” she asked.

That caught the kids’ attention. Chuck E. Cheese’s was a child mecca, with games to play and prizes to win.

“We haven’t been there forever, Dad,” Ethan said.

“You like the skeeball game,” Alli chimed in. Now that she and her brother were on the same page, they worked together to convince their dad.

“I guess Chuck E. Cheese’s is fine,” Hank said, although it was obvious he wasn’t excited about the choice.

Jolie smiled. “Probably not what you’d hoped for, but a good compromise.”

“It’s noisy. I won’t be able to hear anything if anyone calls. I guess I could text.”

“That’s the spirit.” Jolie moved behind her desk and shut down her computer. She might as well leave. By the time she got home and got something to eat, it’d be late.

She heard some whispering as the kids stopped and talked to their dad just inside the doorway. She glanced over, expectant. “What’s wrong?”

“Ethan and Alli would like you to join us,” Hank told her.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Jolie said. Dinner with Hank seemed far too intimate and might be misinterpreted if anyone saw them.

“Please?” Ethan and Alli chimed at once.

“You could show us where it is, if nothing else. I’m not that familiar yet with this part of town,” Hank said.

Alli tugged on her dad’s suit jacket. “Don’t they have a salad bar, Dad? Just in case you don’t like pizza,” Alli told Jolie, her smile hopeful.

“Please join us,” Ethan said, trying manners as another tactic to cajole her.

At that moment Jolie’s stomach rumbled. Eating dinner with a parent and his children pushed the boundaries, but she was hungry. She also wanted to talk to Hank about what Alli had said earlier. Besides, this wasn’t a date or anything—although part of her wished it was. Hopefully spending time with Hank wouldn’t be too torturous. She liked him and life wasn’t playing fair. She had to keep the relationship professional.

“Only if I pay for my own dinner,” she said.

“Yay!” the kids chorused as they raced out of the room and down the hall.

Hank hovered for a moment. “You’re okay with this? You are saving me from sitting there alone, so trust me, I don’t mind.”

She arched an eyebrow in query. Even to this day, all her grown brothers still had to get tokens of their own. “You don’t play the games?”

“It’s easier to let Ethan and Alli run and enjoy themselves without me. Usually when we do stuff like this, I bring a book or do work.”

“In that case, I’d actually like to talk with you. We can hold a follow-up conference in the booth. Ethan’s been much better.”

“That’s good,” Hank said. “I hear a but coming, though.”

“It’s not as bad as you think and we’ll talk at the restaurant.” She locked her classroom and they walked down the hall. Ethan and Alli were already outside in the big black Lexus sedan parked next to her tiny Prius.

She moved the rug out of the school doorway, letting the outside door close and lock. “I’ll follow you,” Hank said.

They reached their destination several minutes later. After entering and having their hands stamped with invisible ink, the group proceeded to the counter, where they ordered food and tokens for games. Although Jolie protested, Hank put the entire bill, including her unlimited-salad-bar order, on his credit card.




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