Make a Wish (Spark House #3)(39)

“What’s wrong with the dress I laid out for you?”

“I want to wear this one.”

“I think it’s perfect.” I put an end to that unnecessary conversation. “And we should really think about heading out since it’s already quarter after five.”

We pile into my car, Karen sitting in the back with Peyton, and Kyle up front with me. We chat about my work and the projects he’s started around the house, and how he’s been trying to fit in as much golf as he can before the courses close for the season.

When we get to the school, Peyton bounces excitedly, pulling me along, telling me all about her classmates and how much she loves it here already. She points to a piece of artwork on the wall outside her classroom.

“Why is the horse pink, Peyton?” Karen asks.

“Because when we use our imagination, they can be any color we want, and I wanted my horse to be the color of cotton candy,” she announces.

“Oh, well that’s … interesting,” Karen mutters.

We peek inside Peyton’s classroom, which is bustling with students, most of whom are dressed up for tonight’s performance. Peyton waves to another girl who, like Peyton, is dressed in a frilly, poofy skirted outfit, except hers is purple and Peyton’s is green.

I do a double take when I notice the petite blonde standing next to the classroom teacher. At first I think I’m seeing things until Peyton claps her hands and shrieks, “Yay! Harley is here! Come on, let’s go say hi to her!” She takes her granny’s hand and pulls her into the classroom, calling out Harley’s name.

Back when Harley was Peyton’s nanny, I would give her weekends off when Peyton’s grandparents came to visit, in part to avoid any conflict with Karen, but also because she couldn’t work seven days a week.

Harley’s smile widens when her eyes land on me.

We’re introduced to Peyton’s teacher, Mrs. Horton, but the classroom is filling up quickly, so Karen and Kyle say they’ll meet us in the hallway, while I hang back.

“I had no idea you were going to be here,” I say, more than a little surprised.

“Emily, Peyton’s teacher, got married at Spark House last year. When I picked up Peyton the other day, we got to talking, and I offered to help with the class since it’s a lot to handle on her own. I hope that’s okay.” She picks a piece of lint off my shirt, then absently smooths out my lapels before dropping her hands.

“Why wouldn’t it be okay?” I glance toward the hallway, where Karen and Kyle are waiting for me. Karen’s expression is pinched, and I can only guess what she must be unhappy about this time. Probably that she’s not the one talking to Peyton’s teacher.

Harley follows my gaze, but Karen and Kyle move out of my line of view. “My intention wasn’t to overstep. I honestly didn’t think anything of it, but I probably should have let you know when I volunteered.”

I refocus my attention on Harley. “I don’t mind at all, and you’re not overstepping. Peyton and I love spending time with you. And you being here is obviously a good thing for her.” It also means she’s not hanging out with the boyfriend, which irrationally makes me feel better.

“I’m glad you feel that way. I have a little something for Peyton after the assembly, so I’ll meet you in the foyer when it’s over?”

“That sounds great.”

Mrs. Horton calls out to Harley for some help, so I head back to the hall where I find my parents and my in-laws waiting outside the auditorium. Unlike her previous school, where all the assemblies were held in the gym and we sat on plastic chairs, this school has a real theater with plush seating.

“This is better than movie theater seating,” Kyle says as he relaxes back into his chair.

“There seems to be a strong focus on the arts in this school. Will you be encouraging Peyton to try out for any of the sports teams? How are the academics here?” Karen asks.

“If Peyton wants to try out for a team, I’ll support that, but she seems to have her mom’s artistic flair, so she’s been very excited about the drama club, and there’s a yearbook club here. She’s still young, and with the move being new, I want her to feel settled before I fill her schedule up too much.” I don’t know if it’s just me projecting, but I feel like I’m under Karen’s parenting microscope.

“I didn’t realize that Harley was volunteering in her class,” Karen says.

I was waiting for this. “She knows Peyton’s teacher personally, and she’s great with kids. I think it’s pretty selfless that she’s giving up an evening to help out a friend and be a familiar face for Peyton.”

The lights go down, ending that conversation. For now.

An hour and a half and some pretty cute performances later—I’m ridiculously impressed they were able to put all of this together in under two weeks—we meet up outside the school. My parents have to leave because they have a brunch with friends in the morning, but we’re supposed to see them tomorrow evening for dinner.

Harley appears a few minutes later, one hand tucked behind her back as she approaches us, her smile widening as her gaze moves from me to Peyton. “You were amazing up there! Even better than during rehearsals!”

Peyton grins shyly. “We practiced really hard this week.”