Read Online Fatty Patty (A James Bay Novel) by Kathleen Irene Paterka - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kathleen Irene Paterka
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didn’t go far. I suck in a deep breath, count to ten. “Why don’t you share them with your friends?”
“Okay.” He crams the rest of the cookie into his mouth and wanders off.
Ruth Proctor strolls over to join me. “Pretty outfit. Is it new?”
“I bought it Saturday.” I glance down at the blue and white blouse with matching skirt. Last weekend’s excursion to the mall for a pair of new shoes ended up a full-blown shopping spree. I cringe, thinking how much I spent. Sooner or later I’ll have to admit it to Sam. But everyone deserves a little splurge now and then, right? Besides, the blue blouse matches my eyes. And I know Nick noticed.
At least I think he did. I hope he did.
“Can you believe it’s another year already? Where does the time go?” Ruth shakes her head. “And these kids—where do they get so much energy? They’re like wild monkeys.”
“Better out here on the playground than during math class.” I watch Tyler as he heads for the swings with his snack sack. Poor kid. He’s got no clue how close he came to losing those cookies.
“The boys seem happy with Mr. Lamont.” Ruth nods toward the basketball court. Nick has the boys split into two teams. They scrimmage and shoot hoops on the hot asphalt.
“They do seem to like him.” I give myself a mental hug. It’s not just the fifth-grade boys who think Nick is something special.
“What about you, Patty? What do you think of our new fifth-grade team?”
I stand there as the flush creeps up my face. What does she expect me to say? That at thirty years old, I’m nursing a schoolgirl crush on the fifth-grade teacher? That I think he’s the cutest thing strolling the halls of James Bay Elementary? That I check him out every chance I get?
“Why do you ask?”
“No particular reason.” She tucks a few gray hairs back into place. “Well, I suppose that’s not entirely true. I will admit I do have a few concerns about Nick.”
I shoot her a fast glance. “Anything I should know?”
“Nothing specific.” Her eyes trail him around the basketball court, bouncing back and forth as he controls the ball. “He just seems a little… wild. Sometimes I wonder if he has those kids under control.”
I watch Nick whooping it up under the hoop with the ten-year-olds. I’m not sure what Ruth’s talking about. As far as I’m concerned, there’s no mistaking who’s in charge—the man in chinos, white shirt, and tie, dribbling the basketball. He darts, jumps, and scores the perfect shot, then takes an elaborate bow—much to the delight of his young fans.
“I think he knows exactly what he’s doing.”
She hesitates, like she’s about to say something more, then changes her mind. “I suppose you’re right. Forget I said anything. I’m sure it will all work out fine.”
I watch Nick score another shot. How can Ruth have any doubts? Nick is perfect with the kids and just what they need. A masculine presence, steady and reliable. A man in charge who makes them feel important by getting down on their own level while still managing to control the action and keep everyone in line. When was the last time one of our staff was out there playing with the kids? I used to do it myself when I first started teaching, challenging the girls to a game of jump rope. It was exhausting but fun. When and why did I quit? Now recess means me patrolling the playground and checking my watch to make sure we don’t exceed our fifteen minutes of freedom.
Exactly how and when did I become the warden?
“I just want to make sure he fits in here,” Ruth adds.
“That’s what I want, too.” More than she can guess.
“Help me keep an eye on him, would you, Patty? We don’t want our boy getting into trouble.”
I glance at Nick, busy directing a crucial play. Our boy? Ruth has it all wrong. Nick’s no boy. He’s definitely all man. And he’s my man . At least from the hours of 9 to 3. As for the rest of the time…
I block out the thought.
“Okay.” He crams the rest of the cookie into his mouth and wanders off.
Ruth Proctor strolls over to join me. “Pretty outfit. Is it new?”
“I bought it Saturday.” I glance down at the blue and white blouse with matching skirt. Last weekend’s excursion to the mall for a pair of new shoes ended up a full-blown shopping spree. I cringe, thinking how much I spent. Sooner or later I’ll have to admit it to Sam. But everyone deserves a little splurge now and then, right? Besides, the blue blouse matches my eyes. And I know Nick noticed.
At least I think he did. I hope he did.
“Can you believe it’s another year already? Where does the time go?” Ruth shakes her head. “And these kids—where do they get so much energy? They’re like wild monkeys.”
“Better out here on the playground than during math class.” I watch Tyler as he heads for the swings with his snack sack. Poor kid. He’s got no clue how close he came to losing those cookies.
“The boys seem happy with Mr. Lamont.” Ruth nods toward the basketball court. Nick has the boys split into two teams. They scrimmage and shoot hoops on the hot asphalt.
“They do seem to like him.” I give myself a mental hug. It’s not just the fifth-grade boys who think Nick is something special.
“What about you, Patty? What do you think of our new fifth-grade team?”
I stand there as the flush creeps up my face. What does she expect me to say? That at thirty years old, I’m nursing a schoolgirl crush on the fifth-grade teacher? That I think he’s the cutest thing strolling the halls of James Bay Elementary? That I check him out every chance I get?
“Why do you ask?”
“No particular reason.” She tucks a few gray hairs back into place. “Well, I suppose that’s not entirely true. I will admit I do have a few concerns about Nick.”
I shoot her a fast glance. “Anything I should know?”
“Nothing specific.” Her eyes trail him around the basketball court, bouncing back and forth as he controls the ball. “He just seems a little… wild. Sometimes I wonder if he has those kids under control.”
I watch Nick whooping it up under the hoop with the ten-year-olds. I’m not sure what Ruth’s talking about. As far as I’m concerned, there’s no mistaking who’s in charge—the man in chinos, white shirt, and tie, dribbling the basketball. He darts, jumps, and scores the perfect shot, then takes an elaborate bow—much to the delight of his young fans.
“I think he knows exactly what he’s doing.”
She hesitates, like she’s about to say something more, then changes her mind. “I suppose you’re right. Forget I said anything. I’m sure it will all work out fine.”
I watch Nick score another shot. How can Ruth have any doubts? Nick is perfect with the kids and just what they need. A masculine presence, steady and reliable. A man in charge who makes them feel important by getting down on their own level while still managing to control the action and keep everyone in line. When was the last time one of our staff was out there playing with the kids? I used to do it myself when I first started teaching, challenging the girls to a game of jump rope. It was exhausting but fun. When and why did I quit? Now recess means me patrolling the playground and checking my watch to make sure we don’t exceed our fifteen minutes of freedom.
Exactly how and when did I become the warden?
“I just want to make sure he fits in here,” Ruth adds.
“That’s what I want, too.” More than she can guess.
“Help me keep an eye on him, would you, Patty? We don’t want our boy getting into trouble.”
I glance at Nick, busy directing a crucial play. Our boy? Ruth has it all wrong. Nick’s no boy. He’s definitely all man. And he’s my man . At least from the hours of 9 to 3. As for the rest of the time…
I block out the thought.
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