The Presence of Grace (Love and Loss #2)(5)

I found the door with Jaxy’s teacher’s name above, knocked lightly, and then pushed the door open slightly.

“Miss Richards?” I called out softly.

“Yes, please, come in,” a soft feminine voice replied. I pushed the door open, but didn’t see anyone. I took a step in, my eyes sweeping the room, and a brunette woman appeared from around the corner. She was looking down at the papers in her hand, but when she finally glanced up at me, she halted.

My eyes narrowed at her and my brain started running a thousand miles an hour, trying desperately to figure out why she looked so familiar.

She took the last two steps to me, her hand held out, but had an utterly confused look on her face that more than likely matched mine.

“Grace Richards,” she said slowly as I took her hand.

“Have we met—?

“Do I know you—?

We both spoke at the same time, our hands wrapped around each other’s.

“You look really familiar,” I said slowly, moving our hands up and down even more slowly.

“Did you come to the parent/teacher conferences at the beginning of the year?” she asked.

“No,” I replied, shaking my head. “My mother came in my place.”

Our hands were still joined, and we were still staring each other down, unable or unwilling to move past the weird sensation that we were obviously both having. After a few more moments of thoughtful silence and slow hand shaking, her mouth formed into a perfect O and her free hand came up to cover it.

“Oh my gosh,” she said, gently pulling her hand from mine.

“What?” This was the strangest meeting I’d ever had.

“You’re the crying man.”

“The crying man?” I asked, pulling back in confusion.

“Back in Fairbanks. At Ridgefield Elementary. I was a teacher there. And you were the man crying outside during parent/teacher conferences.”

It took a moment or two to remember, but finally the puzzle piece fell into place. It was her. The poor woman who’d happened upon me as I had a nervous breakdown outside of Ruby’s second grade conferences. Olivia had only been gone a few months and I’d thought I could handle going alone, but I hadn’t been prepared to see all the mothers and fathers there with each other, all the couples and partners spending an evening together. It hadn’t occurred to me it would even be an issue. I hadn’t even made it to Ruby’s classroom before I lost my composure.

“You were there,” she continued, “and I felt so helpless because there wasn’t anything to say or do.”

Embarrassed, I ran my hand through my hair, trying to find the words. Any words. “Wow,” I finally managed. “This is awkward.” I gave a small laugh, trying to cover the fact that I felt very uncomfortable.

“No, no, no,” she insisted. “I’m really glad to see you. I think about you all the time.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. I think often about how you’re doing. You were so upset that night.”

“It wasn’t my best moment.”

Her eyebrows shot up as if she’d just came to another realization. “You’re Jax’s dad.”

“Devon Roberts. Nice to meet you.”

“Wow,” she whispered. “It really is a small world.”

“Yeah,” I agreed with a laugh, unsure of where to go from there.

“Okay, so your son, Jax,” she said, moving the conversation along. “He’s a wonderful kid.” She led me to a long table at the front of her room. She took a seat on one side and motioned for me to sit across from her. “He’s a pleasure to have in class. Super attentive. Always eager to learn. Just a great kid. A great student.”

“Uh, thanks. That’s good to hear.”

She smiled and it caught my attention. It wasn’t the polite smile she’d forced when I’d first arrived, and it wasn’t the worried smile she’d given me when we’d realized how we’d previously met. It was a genuine smile. Soft and warm. It lit up her entire face, all the way to her eyes. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever noticed a brunette with blue eyes before—I must have known at least one—but her eyes were almost the color of the sky on a clear summer day. Deeply blue. She was radiant and the smile was reflective of that.

She pulled some papers from a folder and spread them out in front of me.

“These are the tests Jax took at the beginning of the year. We give these tests to gauge a baseline for all the students, so we can measure progress. As you can see, he scored high, well above his classmates.” She pulled out even more papers and laid them out the same way. “These are his test scores from earlier this month. As you can see,” she said, using her hands to delicately point out his scores, “his scores are now leaps and bounds above his grade level.”

“That’s great,” I replied. I was out of my element.

“It is great. But he’s not just smart. You see, the difference between a bright student and a talented and gifted student is very clear. Jax doesn’t just like learning, he isn’t doing his work because we ask him to, he loves learning. He seeks out knowledge and asks questions the other students, even the best of students, don’t think about asking.”

“He’s always been very inquisitive.”