He bit his lip and looked at the floor. A second later, with narrowed eyes, he glanced up and said, “You, please.”
So I did. When I said goodbye to him at the gate, where other children were filing boisterously into the small, boxy-looking building beyond, Connor turned and hugged me, head pressed into my stomach, arms only just about able to reach my waist, and I felt a stab of anxiety shoot through me. Was he going to be okay? What if he tripped and fell? What if he banged his head? What if some of the other kids started bullying him for no reason? There were endless things that could go wrong on the first day at a new school, and it felt wrong that I was standing around outside the school grounds, watching him run inside, bag bouncing up and down on his back, and I wasn’t going inside with him to protect him. I supposed this was how it felt for the parents who used to drop off their kids at Saint Augustus’s while I walked inside, too, ready to teach.
The suggestion Michael made at Rose’s party came to mind again. There was a position for a full-time teacher open at the school. And it was well paid, too. Once these six months with the children were up, come hell or high water I was finding another job. If I stayed here on The Causeway after the summer, would it be so bad? If the children stayed here somehow, too? I couldn’t imagine walking out on them now, or simply handing them over to Sheryl, to be dumped in some awful foster home. And that was after they’d sat for months in a group home, waiting forever to see who would agree to take them. The thought just killed me.
At home, Amie and I made sparkle starfish dinosaurs to put on the fridge, and then we sat and read a book together. Midway through, my cell phone buzzed on the arm of the sofa.
Sully: Macaroni and cheese? Steak?
He’d finished up with a winky face, which made me shake my head.
“What are you smiling at, Feelya?” Amie asked, looking up at me. Her face was so perfect. So sweet and innocent. Her hair was sticking up at the front, floating on a wave of static that prickled between us.
“Nothing at all, little monster. A friend I know just made a joke on my phone.”
“Was it a funny joke?”
“Not really. He was being cheeky.”
She leaned back, her head resting in the crook of my arm, giggling, teeth on show, and I just wanted to wrap my arms around her and squeeze her tight. She was the most adorable thing. She had the same chin, the same high forehead, and the same dimples as both her father and her uncle. The exact same hair color. The same smile, and the same mischievous glint in her eye. “What did he say?” she asked, still laughing.
“He’s sick at the moment, so I’ve been making his dinner for him and taking it over to his house on the other side of the island. He was just saying that he wanted steak with mac and cheese for dinner, which is really naughty because it’s not so easy to make.”
Her eyes widened. “I love steaks with mac and cheese.”
“Mmm, I know. So do I.”
“Can we have it for dinner, too?”
“Oh boy.”
So that was it. A quick trip to the store later, and Amie and I were in the kitchen with the necessary ingredients, making the dinner Sully had requested: steak with mac and cheese à la Amie.
Later, when I took over his food, Sully lifted the lid off his dinner and arched an eyebrow so reminiscent of Ronan that it took my breath away.
“Why, may I ask, is the mac and cheese green? And why is the steak…in the shape of a rabbit?”
“It’s not a rabbit. It’s a Velociraptor. You can’t tell because it’s not cooked yet. I didn’t want it getting tough on the way over here.”
Sully frowned some more, staring down at the food. “I’m sensing you had help preparing this meal.”
“I did. My sous chef is excellent. Five years old. Loves the color green, and dinosaurs. She’s very sorry you’re sick, and she hopes you get better soon.”
Sully leaned against the counter and sighed heavily, crossing his arms over his chest. “Is this some cheap ploy to get me to fall in love with my niece and nephew via the medium of food? Because it’s not going to happen. I’m impervious to cuteness.”
“I’m sure you are. I am sure you are, buddy.”