Читать книгу Forever with You - Farrah Rochon - Страница 11

Chapter 3

Her arms crossed over her chest, Leslie meandered around the science lab as she waited her turn with Cassidy’s science teacher at GEMS’s Biannual Parent/Teacher Conference night. The first conference of the year, which had been scheduled in the fall, had been preempted by a tropical storm that veered toward the Mississippi coastline just before making landfall, but still caused heavy flooding in Gauthier and surrounding towns. For some parents tonight would be the first time they got the chance to meet with teachers this school year.

An official event wasn’t necessary for parents and teachers to meet and discuss school happenings. Leslie would guess that most parent/teacher conferences took place in the grocery store or the bank or the pharmacy. The majority of the teachers at GEMS had lived in Gauthier their entire lives. They’d gone to high school with Braylon, or they attended the same church, or they were regulars at Shayla’s coffeehouse. It was the nature of living in a small town.

And then there was Gabriel Franklin. The outsider.

He wasn’t the first nonlocal to teach at GEMS, but the handful of teachers who had come to Gauthier from other cities had blended in rather easily and didn’t make many waves.

Mr. Franklin had begun procuring his reputation as a skilled but demanding teacher just a few days into his first week at GEMS. He had challenged the students—and thus the parents—by requiring more time at the dinner table doing homework. It had been a shock to everyone’s system.

Some parents had complained, but others had agreed that Mr. Franklin’s way of teaching would help the children in the long run. The fact that he was a bit of a charmer hadn’t hurt, either. He’d won over half the hearts in Gauthier during the first PTO meeting of the year, when he’d given an impassioned plea to the parents, daring them to push their children so they could meet their fullest potential.

That was probably the same time Leslie’s little harmless infatuation with him had begun. She figured it had started because he’d come along around the same time she had made the decision to become more active at the school. His enthusiastic teaching style and the devotion he showed to each student were inspiring. This was not just a job to him. Gabriel Franklin cared about the work he did. He was everything Leslie wanted her daughter’s teacher to be.

He was also smart and cute and young and off-limits.

She had never been bold enough to ask, but Leslie figured he had to be in his late twenties. A smart, cute twentysomething-year-old teacher who probably spent his weekends partying in New Orleans didn’t go for a midthirtysomething-year-old widow with two children and a dog.

So, yes, her silly little crush on the cute Mr. Franklin was also a very safe crush, because Leslie knew she could never date her daughter’s teacher.

She glanced toward the front of the classroom where he was currently speaking with Sadie and Michael Crumb, parents of Gauthier’s infamous set of triplets, Micah, Michelle and Michael Crumb Jr. From what Leslie had heard, the triplets were a handful. According to Cassidy, the Crumb children thought they were hot stuff because they had made it into the local paper. Her daughter was now determined to do something even grander than being born on the same day as her siblings so that she could have her picture in the paper, as well.

If the intense body language was any indication, Mr. Franklin and the Crumbs would not be done anytime soon, so Leslie continued her tour of the classroom. It looked as if there had been a lot more activity since she last visited a couple of weeks ago.

Her eyes wandered over the collection of petri dishes, each with various amounts of bacteria growing inside of it. She suspected that this project was the reason behind Cass’s sudden insistence that everything in the bathroom and kitchen be wiped down completely before they went to bed at night. Mr. Franklin had put the fear of mold spores into her daughter’s heart, and everyone in the house had to suffer the consequences.

Leslie ambled over to the rear of the classroom where glossy posters of the steps of the scientific method, the effects of erosion and diagrams of the food chain hung on the wall next to several snapshots of the students exploring the boggy edges of the Bogue Falaya River during last month’s field trip. She had joined them as a chaperone for that adventure. She was still finding mud in places where mud shouldn’t be.

She peered inside the huge terrarium on the counter that spanned the back wall and jumped back when a praying mantis poked his head out from behind a rock.

“Mrs. Kirkland?”

Leslie jumped again. She pivoted and found Gabriel Franklin right behind her. She took a startled step back and nearly lost her footing.

“I’m sorry.” He reached out and grabbed hold of her arm. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“That’s okay.” Leslie flattened her palm against her chest and sucked in a deep breath. “Just give me a minute.” Straightening, she expelled a shaky laugh. “I was so engrossed in looking around the classroom. A lot has changed since my last visit.”

“That’s right. You haven’t been here in a few weeks. Remind me to show you the new microscope once we’re done. By the way, I’m sorry about that last meeting running a little long,” he said over his shoulder as they walked back to the front of the classroom.

“There’s no need to apologize. I can understand why the Crumbs need a little extra face time.”

“Yes, the Crumb children.” He shook his head and let out a deep chuckle. “They are a rather, uh, unique bunch.” Perching a hip on the edge of his desk, he motioned for her to take a seat in one of the plastic blue desk chairs.

As she slid onto her seat, Leslie reminded herself that this very nice man with this very nice smile was her daughter’s very young teacher. Her daughter’s teacher.

But he did have a very nice smile. He had a slightly crooked front tooth that gave his face just the right touch of personality. His gold-toned skin stretched over enviably high cheekbones and a strong, square chin. And that wavy jet-black hair looked so soft that her fingers itched with the need to run through it. Between Sawyer Robertson and Gabriel Franklin she was racking up the encounters with pretty men this week, wasn’t she?

He cleared his throat and said, “Uh, Mrs. Kirkland?”

Leslie’s neck stiffened in shock as she tore her attention away from his full lips—lips that were now curved in a slight grin.

Had he caught her staring?

His dark brown eyes sparkled with amusement as he cleared his throat again. Yes, he had. The faint blush that stole over his fair skin erased all hope that she had not embarrassed the both of them by ogling his lips as if they were a dessert buffet.

No words could describe this level of mortification. She would trade her entire James Lee Burke hardback collection in exchanged for a chilled towel to cool her heated cheeks.

Leslie curled her fingers around the edge of the desk and forced herself not to find something else in the room to stare at. If she didn’t maintain eye contact she would only look guiltier.

“You were saying?” she asked.

The amusement lingered on his lips, which did not ease her discomfort level in the least. How had she let herself get caught staring at him? She’d become an expert at covert crush tactics.

“I was saying that I’ve been waiting for you to return to the school so I could talk to you about Cassidy. It’s not something I felt comfortable discussing via email.”

Whatever embarrassment she’d felt just a minute ago evaporated as Leslie’s stomach tanked. “What’s going on with Cass? Is something wrong?”

“No, no, no.” He put both hands up. “It’s nothing to get too alarmed about. I don’t have to tell you that Cassidy is one of my standout students. You’ve seen her in action on the days you’ve volunteered.”

Leslie eased back in her seat, the knot that had instantly formed in her stomach unfurling. “What I’ve seen is that she turns into a show-off when I’m here.”

“That is true.” He chuckled. “But in a good way. Her enthusiasm is exactly what I want to see from my students. She comes up with the most thought-provoking questions during class discussions. I was surprised when the third-grade teacher told me that Cassidy barely said a word last year.”

“Cass has been slowly coming out of her shell,” Leslie said. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed the faint marking on her arm, but she used to have a rather large birthmark on her arm and back that made her very self-conscious. She’s been undergoing treatment to get it removed.”

Her daughter had inherited the port-wine-stain birthmark from Braylon, who’d had a similarly large marking on the side of his face. Cassidy’s birthmark had been a contentious subject that nearly drove a wedge between Leslie and Shayla last year after Shayla had spoken to Cass about having it removed without consulting Leslie first.

Leslie had been against it, fearing that her daughter was getting rid of one of the biggest reminders of her father. She had not considered how embarrassment over the birthmark had been holding Cassidy back. Since she’d started treatments to have it removed, Cass had blossomed, going from a child who barely spoke to one who now came home with reprimanding notes from teachers for talking too much in class. The turnaround had been remarkable.

“And here I thought it had something to do with my stellar teaching skills,” Gabriel said.

She grinned at his joke. One thing she’d learned in these months since Gabriel Franklin arrived at GEMS was that he was the complete opposite of arrogant. Leslie figured that played into the infatuation, as well. She’d never been one for giant egos.

“You’ve certainly made an impact on her,” she said. She folded her hands on the desk. “I don’t know if you realize just how much Cassidy enjoys your class, Mr. Franklin. Not a day goes by that she doesn’t have something to say about a science fact she’s learned or an experiment you performed. It’s a relief to see her so excited about school. She wasn’t always this way.”

Genuine gratitude cloaked his features. “You have no idea what it means to me to hear that,” he said.

He stood and smoothed his hands down the sides of his khaki pants. Now all she could think about was last night’s discussion of how cute his butt looked in them.

“Thank you for taking such an interest in our children,” she said, reminding herself of why she was here. “And for working so hard to make learning enjoyable.”

He shrugged, that humility once again on display. “The more interesting you keep it, the better the students will retain it. At least that’s my philosophy.”

“It’s a good philosophy,” she said with a gentle smile. “It’s working.”

She became acutely aware of the quickening of her pulse as his steady gaze found a home on her mouth and remained there. The faint makings of a grin edged up the corner of his lips once again, and Leslie had to glance away to catch her breath.

Okay. So this turn of events was a bit unsettling.

It had been a while since she’d had a safe crush, but she was certain one of the tenets was that the safe crush should not become privy to her feelings. Gabriel Franklin’s knowing smile and penetrating stare indicated that he was all kinds of privy to what she was feeling right now. This could not be good.

“How about that new microscope?” Leslie pointed over her shoulder toward the back of the classroom.

“Yes. It’s nice,” he said, slipping his hands into his pockets and leaning a hip against the desk.

“You promised you would show it to me,” she said.

That didn’t sound nearly as innocent coming out of her mouth as it had when she’d said it in her head.

And now he was blushing, too.

Oh, God, could I be more mortified?

“The microscope,” Leslie prompted. “You promised you’d show me the new microscope.”

Several beats pulsed by as he continued to stare at her, his gaze tracing over her face. Finally, he said, “I did, didn’t I?”

He pushed away from the desk and headed for the rear of the classroom. Leslie sucked in a steadying breath before following him.

“I really appreciate the cookies you donated for the bake sale,” Mr. Franklin called over his shoulder. “Between the money that raised and the donation from the PTO, I was able to purchase the microscope months earlier than I thought I would be able to. It’s been a great addition to the classroom. The students love it.”

He’d already fixed a slide in place by the time Leslie arrived at the piece of equipment.

“This is water that I scooped up from Ponderosa Pond.” He motioned for her to look into the eyepiece, his eyes brightening with the enthusiasm she so often witnessed when she volunteered in his class. He was such a science geek. Lord, help her, but it only enhanced his sexiness.

“Don’t expect Cassidy to go swimming in it anytime soon,” he added with a chuckle. “All the kids were horrified.”

Leslie lowered her right eye to the eyepiece and grimaced. “I don’t blame them. I don’t swim, but if I did I wouldn’t swim in there, either.”

“Why don’t you swim?” he asked.

She looked up and realized just how close he was standing to her. Only inches separated them.

Breathe, girl.

She shook her head. “I just...don’t like it. I grew up in the city. I never learned how to swim.”

“You should learn.” Had his voice dropped an octave? “You might find that you enjoy it.”

Yes. Yes, it had.

Standing this close, her eyes were drawn back to the attractive way his upper lip dipped in the center. Leslie ordered herself to look away, but then his tongue swept out, glided over his lips, and looking away became next to impossible. She was momentarily mesmerized by the smooth, glistening skin. When she finally drew her eyes back to his, they no longer bore the trace of humor they’d held the first time he caught her staring. This time his gaze was measured, potent and concentrated directly on her.

“You’re standing really close,” Leslie said.

He nodded. “I realize that.”

“Mr. Franklin—”

“You can call me Gabriel, you know,” he said, the pitch of his voice still on the husky side. “We’re at school, but technically it’s after hours.”

Leslie swallowed. Then she swallowed again.

“I...I, uh.” She slipped away from the microscope and took several steps back. “I’m not sure that’s appropriate.”

Appropriate? What was she? Her mother?

Taking yet another step back, Leslie asked, “Can we get back to discussing Cassidy?”

Tilting his head to the side, he rubbed the back of his neck and let out a deep breath. When his gaze returned to her, disappointment was evident in his brown eyes.

“You’re right. I apologize if you found anything I said inappropriate, Mrs. Kirkland.”

Mrs.

Great. Now she really felt like her mother.

“I didn’t mean to—” Leslie started, but he held his hand up, staving off further comment.

“No, you were right. We’re here to talk about Cassidy.” He expelled another deep breath and continued, “As I was saying earlier, for the most part Cassidy is doing great in class. I do, however, have a couple of issues I wanted to discuss with you.” He held up one finger. “Give me just a moment.”

Leslie remained at the rear of the classroom while he dashed to the front. She used the brief respite to regain control of her own breathing and to remind herself yet again why it was just plain wrong to nurture any improper feelings toward her daughter’s very young science teacher.

A very young science teacher who had asked her to call him by his first name.

Gabriel—Mr. Franklin. Mr. Franklin—returned with a set of manila folders. He flattened one open on the counter.

“As you can see by her quiz scores, Cassidy has definitely grasped the concepts. Her explanations are thorough and well thought out.” The prideful smirk that crossed Leslie’s lips died a swift death when he continued, “But lately she has displayed an unsettling behavior that is all too common, especially at this age.”

“What type of behavior?”

“Cassidy tends to rush through her work so that she can be the first to finish, and she sometimes misses things. Back when I was in school, teachers would reward the kids who finished early, but they don’t do that anymore because it’s obvious how it can backfire. But many students, especially the competitive ones, still see it as a race.”

“Competitive. Yes, well, even though the middle name on her birth certificate is Elizabeth, I think Cass believes it’s actually Competition. You should see her on the softball field.”

“I can only imagine,” he said with a laugh.

His deep chuckle triggered those inappropriate tingles, and suddenly all Leslie could think about was the need to speed up this meeting. She had to put some distance between herself and Gabriel.

Mr. Franklin.

“Cass and I will have a discussion on the importance of taking her time in class,” Leslie assured him. “You said you had a couple of issues? What’s the second?”

“Homework assignments,” he said. “They’re not always complete. When I asked Cassidy about it, she said that she tries to get her work done but doesn’t always have help.”

Shock sent Leslie’s brows shooting upward. “I can’t believe she said that. Cassidy knows that I’m there to help her with homework. We’re sometimes up until after nine o’clock working on her assignments.”

He put both hands up. “You don’t have to convince me,” he said. “You’re one of the most engaged parents I’ve met since I started teaching here, but you’re also a single, working parent. You can’t devote all your time to making sure Cassidy does her homework, and you shouldn’t have to. She’s nine years old. This is the age when she should start becoming accountable for her work.” His brow dipped in a frown. “I hope I didn’t offend you with that.”

“With what?”

“Saying that you’re a single, working parent.”

Leslie let out a soft laugh. “I am a single, working parent,” she pointed out. “And while it certainly isn’t a walk in the park, it’s my job. If Cassidy is having problems completing her assignments, I want to know about it so I can figure out a solution.”

“I may have a solution,” he said. “Well, not necessarily a solution, but something that can lighten the load.” He retrieved another manila folder from the set he’d brought with him. “As one of my best volunteers and the president of the PTO, I want to know what you think about it.”

Leslie moved in closer, but made sure not to stand too close. She could not handle the nearness right now.

“I’ve proposed a new afternoon homework help program in conjunction with Gauthier High School,” he began. “The high school students need to earn community service hours, and it would also be a big help to working parents.”

“Tutoring?” Leslie asked as she scanned the flyer advertising the program.

“Not exactly,” he said. “If the high school student notices that the kid they’re trying to help just isn’t grasping the information, they can alert the teacher and we can get the student the proper tutoring they need. This program will be strictly homework help. Like I said, it’s meant to lighten the load for parents.”