“One more minute,” Mark called out. “Wrap it up, guys.”
Rae felt Taylor flinch beside her. The girl whose feistiness had known no bounds only moments before tossed her pencil on the table and slumped in her chair.
“What are you doing?” Rae picked the pencil up and held it out to Taylor. “You’re almost finished. Let’s do the last problem.”
Taylor stared at the math book. “Why?”
“Because.” Rae waved the pencil under her nose. “Don’t you want to complete your assignment?”
Taylor grabbed the pencil and snapped it in half.
Rae nodded once. “Okay then.”
“Time’s up.” Mark positioned himself by the door and pointed with his clipboard. “You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.”
Students groaned as they shoved books and papers into backpacks. They nabbed snacks from the basket on their way to the door so that there was nothing left on the table by the time they filed out. The kid with the black hair kept his head down as he slipped out of the room without a word.
Rae hung back, waiting for all the referred kids to leave before approaching Mark. “More volunteers are coming, right?”
He combed his fingers through his scruffy beard. “Here? Probably not.”
“But we need more help.”
“Tell me about it.” He held the door open for the two women volunteers and gestured for Rae to go ahead of him. “We had twice as many kids this week as last. And more will probably come as the word gets out that we have food.”
She stepped into the hallway. “You’re going to have to do something about it.”
He locked up Room F and walked with Rae toward the front door. “What do you suggest, Miss Volunteer of the Year?”
She felt her face flush. “I don’t know. That’s your job, isn’t it?”
“Not my job, per se. I’m a volunteer, too.”
Oh. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye with new appreciation. He was kind of old, like thirty at least, so he had to be out of school. But he still volunteered? That was pretty cool.
Wait. She knew how this worked. Dad was a lawyer, after all.
“You have some court-ordered community service hours to complete?”
He laughed. “Nope. I just like helping people.”
The words sifted down into her gut and stung a little. She’d said the same thing to Kylee. And she’d meant it, hadn’t she? But when Mark said it . . . well, it seemed different.
She stepped outside and saw several of the kids from the program milling around the parking lot. “Do you have to wait with them until their parents come?”
Mark gave her a look that made her feel like a little kid. “Their parents don’t come. Most of them probably don’t even know their kids are here.”
She kicked at a rock. “So do they walk home?”
“I’m not sure. I always offer rides, but most of them put off going home for as long as possible. I think some of them don’t want me to see where they live.”
“Oh.”
Rae lived in the nice part of town. In the biggest house on the block. And she could be anywhere at any time, and all she’d have to do was send a quick text, and her mom would come for her. In fact, her mom always knew exactly where she was.
A Ford Explorer pulled into the parking lot as if to prove the truth of what she’d been thinking, and Rae suddenly felt embarrassed. “There’s my mom. I—I’ll be back Wednesday.”
“Look, Rae.” Mark gave her shoulder a gentle punch. “Volunteers are hard to come by. If you have any brilliant ideas about recruiting more, let me know.”
She nodded and slipped into the passenger seat of the Explorer.
Mom gave her a big smile. “Hi, sweetie. How was your day?”
Rae looked at the other kids through the window. Almost invisible in the shadows behind the building, the boy with the black hair leaned against the church, hands in his pockets. Alone.
Rae pulled on her seat belt. “Better than I thought.”
CHAPTER
NINE
Gerrit peered through a gap in the curtains of the dining room window. Daisy sat at his feet and gave him a dubious look.
“What?” he whispered. “He doesn’t need to know I’m home. It’s none of his business.”
The postal truck appeared, and Gerrit checked his watch. 1:42. He had learned the mail was delivered between one-thirty and two every afternoon. He had also learned Hannie didn’t appreciate his opening mail with her name on it. It had been a mistake, but one he would surely never make again. When the truck drove away, he sprang into action.
Daisy jumped up from the floor to follow him outside.
“You don’t need to come.”
She wagged her undocked tail. Hannie had insisted the breeder leave the tail alone when she was born, not caring whether Daisy ever met the AKC standard.
“I’m only getting the mail.”
Daisy barked.
“Fine.” Gerrit opened the door and let her out ahead of him with a grand gesture. “After you. But this counts as your walk.”
He strode purposefully to the end of the drive, pleased with the crisp, fresh air and the daffodils and tulips leaping to life around him. Not to mention the rhododendrons. After spending the majority of the day indoors watching cooking shows and scraping the seal around the downstairs bathtub so he could recaulk it, the outdoors put a spring in his step. Hadn’t he spent most of his life in the open air? It’s where man was meant to be.
As he passed the barn, Daisy by his side, a vague memory sharpened into focus. He was agile and unwrinkled. He held two-year-old Noah’s hand on one side and Evi’s on the other. She made up a song as she skipped beside him.
“Daddy and me on a walk, walk, walk. Checking for mail in the box, box, box.”
He grinned at her and lifted her from the ground with one arm.
She squealed in delight. “When’s the pony barn gonna be done, Daddy?”
He set her back on
