Faking Christmas(49)
“Well, he’s an…author. And I love books, so…”
Sandy’s face fell before good manners schooled her lips back into a smile.
“Yes, we love that about him, too. He was always so creative, even as a child. He used to get all his friends in the neighborhood, and they’d play in the treehouse for hours, making up plays and having pretend sword fights. It’s no wonder he writes such fun adventure books.”
I stole a glance at Miles, satisfied to see a ruddiness on his cheeks. He looked at me and glared slightly, as though he were embarrassed.
A satisfied smile lit my face. My kind words caused him to be embarrassed. That might be better than snarky.
“He’s also loved by all the staff and kids at the high school. He even won an award for being the coolest teacher. The kids really adore him.” I started off strong, bent on rubbing the ridiculousness of his award in his face, but by the time I got to the last statement, my voice took on a softer tone. Truth rang from my lips. The kids really did love him and…I’m not sure why that just barely hit me. Of course they loved him. He was cool and fun and taught them things in interesting ways. My mind was racing, and my mouth would not stop. “He brings donuts after school every Friday and I always hear him talking with the kids in the hallway. He has a way of making them feel special and he remembers personal things about each of them. The Friday donuts have been really…good…for some of our students.”
I trailed off, meeting his eyes with a furrowed brow as a small puzzle began to be put into place.
Jack smiled proudly. “He’s always had a soft heart. We used to find him feeding all kinds of stray animals. He’d bring them home and try to take care of them. Can’t stand the thought of anybody going hungry.”
I blinked. Why had I never put those two ideas together? I hadn’t realized they correlated until I began speaking. I just thought he’d been trying to buy the students’ love so they’d want to be in his classroom rather than mine. But…sudden memories of a faculty meeting where we had been discussing the kids we knew weren’t getting enough to eat on the weekends came to mind. There had been several ideas thrown out to help, but to my knowledge, nothing concrete had ever been done. Was this Miles’s way of helping to feed the kids who might not have enough food? And why hadn’t I ever thought of it like that?
I looked at him again, but this time, he was staring down at the table, brushing away a crumb. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable. Looking toward his parents, he said, “That’s enough. Should we play a game? Rummy? Thirteen?”
“First, I want to hear what you like about Olive. It’s only fair,” Sandy said, her blue eyes twinkling.
Honestly, I was starting to feel a bit sick, probably due to the half gallon of ice cream swimming down there, but still, we had to put a stop to this.
“There are too many things to name,” Miles said, smiling easier now that the attention was off him. I relaxed when it seemed like he was going to play it off with a general statement. That is, until I felt his hand clamor up the back of my neck, giving it a light squeeze. Then, he kept massaging—slow, torturous touching that broke my body out into chills. Was there some sort of fake dating class Miles had taken? The touching and sweet glances, they came so naturally to him. It was disconcerting.
“She’s hilarious,” he said.
I huffed out a snort. Surely he wasn’t serious. He found it hilarious to make fun of me, but that didn’t mean that I was funny.
“She’ll do anything to help out.”
I reached over underneath the table and gave his thigh a warning squeeze. I knew what he really thought of that particular trait of mine. Quick as a blink, his left hand reached over and grabbed mine, keeping it there, resting against him. For a moment, I struggled but finally had to relent when it was clear I wasn’t getting my hand back without a fight.
He continued. “Sometimes she can be too nice, but her heart’s in the right place.”
That wasn’t true either. I did things for people, but rarely was my heart in the right place about it. I mostly just wanted to avoid drama. Keep the peace.
“But one of my favorite things about Olive is that her students, even the boys, come out of her class feeling alive.”
I stilled. My heart began pounding, and I wasn’t sure whether I wanted him to stop talking or keep going.
“She has them read books I’d never have the guts to bring into my classroom, but by the end, they all love her for it. It takes a special kind of teacher to read Jane Eyre to a bunch of teenage boys and have them enjoy it. But she does it. She’s the kind of teacher her students will come back and visit in twenty years because she meant so much to them.”
The room evolved into silence for a few moments. I was fighting a stinging hotness in my eyes that I could not, for all the holy love, allow to slip past. For all I knew, Miles was singing a tune for his parents. Playing our cover like a fiddle. Feeding our lie. Fanning the fake flame.
And…well done.
Miles cleared his throat and removed his arm from the back of my chair, his hand brushing across my shoulders as he did so. Good heavens, what was with the shoulder thing? Suddenly, it was hotter than a blaze in this house.
“Has anybody beaten my score yet?” he asked casually.
The weird feeling between us eventually dissipated as his family broke out the card games. Apparently, the Taylor family were big card sharks. My family had played more board games than cards, but I picked up the games quickly. They were the kind of players who teased and joked with others but never got angry when things didn’t go their way. It made settling in with this family easy and enjoyable, and I even found myself teasing Jack about not giving up the card he wanted. I didn’t tease much with Miles, however. Every time he shot a look or a teasing smile my way, I felt my face go hot. It was as if the conversation earlier had broken me. I had shown too much.