love bruises

i. daisy's father

"Drawing time!" You announced loudly to your class, all too enthusiastic as drawing time meant a short break for yourself, and your kids usually loved getting creative, and it meant there was only an hour left until pick-up time, and although you loved your job and your kids and your day, there was a small sigh of relief–a calm intake of breath when you could see the end of the day nearing. It meant home time soon–some wine, a shower, and quiet.

Teaching was a wonderful, noble profession (as your mother would always remind you) but of course, nothing was perfect–no job was flawless, and knowing you get to go home soon put a perk in your step as you walked between the kids–admiring their work.

"What are you working on today, Chris?" You asked the little boy as you saw him chewing on the end of his crayon, silently guiding the stick away from his mouth as you prompted him to look up at you.

"I'm drawing my new puppy," he said, his tone suggesting you weren't to see until he was finished, so you moved on with a smile.

"And what about you, Daisy?" You asked the dark skinned girl sitting next to Chris.

The pair were always joined at the hip, regardless of how different their personalities were. Chris was often guarded and collected, and Daisy was everything but.

The second she received your attention, she jumped softly in her seat–her smile spreading to her cheeks as she told you every last bit of her plan.

"Well, my daddy's been working a lot and he's very tired so I'm making him something so he can be happier!"

"Oh, that's so thoughtful of you, honey! Well done!" You gushed freely, as she nodded happily, grabbing every red and blue crayon she could see. You left the kids to it, making the rounds slowly and offering help should anyone need it.

As you sat down with your tea, waiting for the clock to move, you let your mind wander as your eyes landed on Daisy–a smile overtaking you as you thought over her story.

You were friendly with all the parents, sure, it was part of the job description to be bubbly and welcoming and luckily you were never short in that department–but when it came to Daisy's father–it was particularly easy to greet him with kindness.

Daisy's father looked nothing like her, and at first, you guessed he must've been a babysitter or a friend coming to pick her up–maybe even an uncle from marriage. But the other teachers let you know that Mr. Parker was indeed her biological father, and that he was a single parent at that. He was so often tired when he dropped her off in the mornings, and so often his friend–who Daisy referred to as Uncle Harley–would come take her instead of him, saying something along the lines of, "Peter's busy at work," with a timid smile.

Her father really was constantly busy, and you understood that. Being a single parent, in today's economy, couldn't have been easy. Sure, Peter drove around in a very fancy car–but that didn't mean he wasn't struggling with money. As far as you knew, Peter did engineering at Stark Industries, that car would have easily been the company's. He had to work day and night to provide for his daughter, and that was honourable–and he seemed so honourable, and generous, and good with his daughter, and sweet, and he was terribly funny, and he had a lovely smile and–

Fine, it was slightly inappropriate the way you thought about Mr. Parker.

You've been a teacher for four years and until you had Daisy in your class, you never thought of any of the parents that way. Most of them were simply older than you were, and almost all of them were happily married, with kids. Obviously. It truly was inappropriate to think that way about someone involved in your work.