Casual Romance by Heather McGhee
Chapter One
“Ms. Livie?”
I glance up from Sam-I-Am’s insistence that green eggs and ham were, in fact, delicious. “Yes, Haley?” The tiny, blond girl wiped her nose on her sleeve, and I stifled a grimace.
“Emma won’t share the markers.”
Will shifted in my lap, and Violet leaned over, untying her shoes for the third time that morning. I gently stilled Violet’s hands as I replied, “Haley, did you ask her to share?”
“She won’t,” she whined.
“Okay, here is what you need to do. Go back to the table and talk to Emma about sharing the markers. When I am finished here, I will come over there. And Haley? Please use a tissue to wipe your nose.”
I gave my preschool classroom a quick scan before turning back to the book. By the time, Dr. Seuss’ crazily, curved train plunged into the water, Violet’s shoe came off, and Will scampered off to play with Eli. The chaos of preschool life continued with the usual “He won’t be my friend” arguments, paint splatters, constant hand-washing and childlike laughter. At the end of the day when the last parent drove away with her child, I was exhausted.
But a good exhaustion. In the six hours of my workday, I didn’t think about the bills I had yet to pay, my mother’s early-morning wake up call, or if Stuart’s aloofness signaled an end for us. No, the world of children centered on who’s coming to your birthday party, who can run the fastest, and what’s for snack.
As usual, I was the last teacher to leave at the end of the school day. The others waved good-bye through my classroom door as they headed out, and I finished organizing my lessons for next week. The front doorbell chimed. Our director, Sharon, left earlier that day, handing over the office duties to her assistant, who had also scurried out as soon as she could, so I walked through the office to see who it was.
A man stood in front of the glass door, holding a baby carrier. I unlocked the door, swinging it wide, and a gusty, January wind hit me in the face. “Hi, can I help you?”
“Is this Wonderland Preschool? I'm looking for a place for my daughter.” He hefted the carrier in his other hand. I stole a glance, seeing a pink wrapped bundle, not much older than six months.
“It is, but I’m sorry. We’re closed for the day.”
“Oh,” he deflated. “Okay, thank you.” He turned to go.
“Wait,” I stopped him and stood aside. “Please, come in. It’s cold out there. I’m Olivia Barnes, one of the teachers.”
“Jackson McKay,” he said, shouldering past me and limping slightly. He set the baby down and flexed his fingers. “She gets heavier everyday,” he laughed.
“Your daughter?”
He nodded. “Isabella.”
“She’s beautiful,” I commented, bending down to see the child better. She slept peacefully, her dark, curly hair covered in a pink bonnet and a fuzzy blanket tucked around her body.
“Just like her mother,” Mr. McKay said.
I stood with a pleasant smile. “Is there anything I can help you with, Mr. McKay?”
He cleared his throat. “A friend of mine said this was a good place…Julia Walker?”
“Yes, I know her. Micah’s mother.”
