Phoebe Berman's Gonna Lose It(16)

We’re waiting on a few more kids to show up before we start our morning circle time. Usually we have at least one or two with separation anxiety so severe that it takes weeks, sometimes even months, for them to say goodbye to their parents each morning without crying—but not today. Today seems to be starting off without a hitch, which I take as a good omen for the rest of the year. Just as I’m about to express my excitement over this to Cheryl, a woman walks through the door with a little curly-haired boy gripping her leg like he’s holding on for dear life. The woman smiles in my direction, and I’m surprised she’s able to keep her composure with the boy’s fingernails digging into the exposed flesh below the hem of her skirt. Cheryl and I give each other a knowing look, and I mouth, “I got it.”

I smile and wave while walking over to the doorway. I crouch down so I’m at eye level with the boy.

“Hi! You must be Charlie.” I recognize his sweet blue eyes and long blond curls from his photo on the attendance sheet. “I’m so excited to meet you. I’m Teacher Phoebe.” I wave again. He buries his face deeper into his mom’s leg.

“Let me show you your cubby; it’s in one of the best spots.” I stand and motion for him to follow, but he plants his feet firmly into the floor.

“Sorry,” his mom mouths to me. I can tell by the pleading look in her eyes that she’s starting to panic.

“Don’t worry,” I whisper to her. “He’ll be great.”

“Let’s go with Teacher Phoebe to see your cubby!” She drags Charlie along behind her as we all make our way to the cubby area.

“Here we are!” I gesture to a row of three cubbies in the corner. “Do you know which one is yours?” Some kids come into pre-K with the ability to write their full name, while others are still working on recognizing their letters. The first week of school is spent trying to figure out where each child stands. Charlie peeks one eye out from behind his mom’s leg and points to the cubby with his name tag velcroed to the top.

“That’s my name,” he says.

“It is,” I agree excitedly. “You’re right in the middle of Ellie and Danny. Those are two great friends to be near. They’re playing in the block area right now; let’s go meet them.”

I hold out my hand, and Charlie gives his mom a look that asks for permission.

“Go ahead, sweetie!” She crouches down to give him a hug goodbye. “Mommy will come pick you up when school is done.”

She tries to make a quick exit, but her plan is quickly foiled when Charlie throws his arms around her neck and starts to sob. I give them a minute before I crouch down to join them.

“Charlie, can I tell you a story that I haven’t told the other kids in our class yet?” This gets his attention, and he turns toward me with a face full of snot. I grab a box of tissues from my desk and continue.

“When my mom dropped me off at pre-K for the first time, do you know what I did? I cried! I was so sad because I was going to miss my mom. Is that how you’re feeling, too?”

He nods, and I hand him a ball of tissues. His mom uses the time Charlie spends wiping his nose to slowly back out of the classroom, which I appreciate. A clean break is always the best.

I whisper the rest of my story, so it seems even more exciting. Charlie leans in.

“Well, here’s where my story gets a little funny. Are you ready?” He nods in between sniffles. “My mom was really worried that I was still going to be sad when she came back to get me a few hours later. But when she picked me up, I wasn’t sad at all. I told her, ‘Mom, I’m not ready to leave yet. Please come back later.’ When I finally got in the car to go home, I had so many fun things to tell her about.”

I take another tissue from the box and wipe up all the tears and snot that he missed.

“Can I give you a hug?” I ask. He wraps his little arms around me tightly, and I give him a light squeeze. “You’re being very brave, Charlie. Let’s find an activity for you to do so you can tell Mom all about it on the car ride home. Do you want to play in the block area or play pretend?” He walks over to the block area without looking back.

“Wow, that was impressive,” a male voice comments from across the room.

Still crouched down on the floor, I turn my head in the direction of the voice, to where I spot him leaning against the doorframe.

This is the moment that everything changes.





6


Love at first sight.

I’ve read about it. I’ve dreamed about it. I’ve watched it happen in countless movies. I’ve always known it was out there, but I had started to give up on it ever happening to me.

Until now.

I stand so quickly that small spots begin to dance around the edges of my vision. My heart plummets to the base of my stomach as I shuffle toward the door, dropping so far down that I worry it’s going to fall out of my skort and onto the alphabet-themed rug. I clench as a precaution.

“Hi,” I say, my voice sounding distant. I curl my fingers in a wave, though I’m not sure it does any good with my hand at my side.

According to the attendance sheet, we’re still waiting on one more kid to arrive, but I highly doubt this is his dad. He’s too young and dressed too casually. The few dads who do morning drop-offs are always in suits and fall somewhere in the forty-to-sixty age range. The guy in front of me is wearing a checkered button-down over a white T-shirt, navy blue pants, and Vans. There’s no sign of gray in his sandy brown hair. He can’t be a day older than me. Maybe he’s a hot nanny?