They started the day with the morning reading circle; for the first two weeks, they’d be working all together. After that they planned on dividing the class into three comprehension groups: the strongest, the average, and the struggling, so that they could individualize instruction.
As Janet read Let’s Go to the Zoo! Lauren observed the children, their interest and attention levels and their comprehension. Her eyes fell on Erin, and again she felt the twinge in her chest, the same one she had felt the day before when she’d said Michael’s name.
Lauren composed herself and shook it off; there was no way she was going to project her feelings silence filled the space between them7 shoulder about Michael onto his innocent child.
But God, she looked so much like him.
The eyes were exactly the same, eyes that were so dark they were almost black, except hers were large and round with childhood, ringed by a fringe of dark lashes.
She had the same full lips, the same dark hair, only hers fell in silky ringlets that brushed the tops of her shoulders.
She was gorgeous.
But more than that, she was different. Something about the way she carried herself; it was more than just being shy. She gave off this sense of maturity, like she was wise beyond her three-and-a-half years.
And even as Lauren sat assessing the other children, Erin remained in the corner of her mind.
After the morning reading circle, Lauren and Janet set up the arts and crafts table while Delia taught the kids a new song. The entire time, the children were watching Lauren and Janet like racers on the block. As soon as song time was over, the students darted to the end of the long table, battling for crayons, markers, and glitter.
Lauren stepped back with an amused laugh, watching to make sure everyone was being polite. As she circled the area and helped children gather as many crayons as their little hands could carry, she noticed Erin on the far end of the table by herself with one piece of paper and a single blue crayon.
The other kids settled themselves around the opposite end where the supplies were set up and began their pictures, but Erin remained on the far side by herself. She was carefully drawing a blue stick figure with her brow pulled together, deep in concentration.
After a moment of watching her, Lauren leaned over and grabbed a tin of crayons and a blank piece of paper before she pulled up a chair near where the rest of the students were coloring.
“Hey, Erin?” she called, and Erin’s crayon stopped as she looked up at Lauren with big doe eyes.
“I’m trying to draw a rainbow, but I can’t remember how to do it. Will you come and help me?”
Erin looked down at her own picture and bit her lip before she glanced back up at Lauren.
“You can bring your picture,” she said, motioning to an empty seat across from her. “Come on over here with us.”
Erin slowly pushed back from the table, taking her paper and crayon with her as she walked over to where Lauren was sitting.
“Thank you so much for helping me,” Lauren said with a smile. “I used to be really good at making rainbows, but I think I forgot how. You look like you’d be good at it.”
The corner of Erin’s mouth lifted in a smile.
“Are you?” Lauren asked, and Erin’s smile grew more prominent as she nodded.
“Awesome. Do you remember what color goes first?” Lauren asked, sliding the tin of crayons in between them.
Erin bit her lip, leaning over to study the crayons, her tiny fingers sifting delicately through the pile until she pulled out a red one and proudly handed it to Lauren.
“Hmm, I think you’re right,” Lauren said with a nod. “What color is this again?”
“Red,” she said softly, and her voice was high and tinkling, like wind chimes.
“Ah, that’s right, red,” she said, tapping herself on the forehead with the crayon. “I always forget.”
Erin smiled then, and Lauren winked before she began coloring a red arch on the top of the page.
“Daddy says you’re his friend.”
The crayon came to a halt on the paper as Lauren froze. It wasn’t just the fact that Erin had spoken without having been asked a question, something she hadn’t done at all the day before, but it was more what she had said that had thrown Lauren for a loop.
“Are you?” Erin asked, handing Lauren the orange crayon she had just dug out of the container.
“Am I what?” Lauren asked, trying to refocus her attention on coloring the arch.
“Daddy’s friend?”
She stopped then and looked up to see Erin watching her, her face the epitome of innocence, waiting for a response.
“Your daddy and I were friends a long time ago.”
Her face turned thoughtful. “You mean like when you were babies?”
Lauren couldn’t help but smile as she put the red crayon back and took the orange one Erin had laid out for her. “No, when we were teenagers.”
“What’s a teenager?” Erin asked, her eyes on her paper as she began working on her stick figure again.
“It’s a big boy or girl. Bigger than a baby, but not as big as a daddy or a mommy.” No sooner than the word left her mouth, Lauren felt like kicking herself. She glanced up quickly, waiting to see what kind of effect the mention of a mommy would have on Erin.
She didn’t miss a beat.
“Daddy said you’re nice.”
Lauren’s shoulders dropped. “He did?”
Erin nodded as she colored blue hair on top of her stick figure’s head. “He said that if I got sad or scared, I should talk to you, because you’re nice.”
Lauren felt a lump rise in her throat, and she swallowed hard, forcing a smile. “You can always come talk to me, Erin. That’s what I’m here for.”
“Okay,” she said casually.
“Can I use your crayon?” she heard a little voice ask, and Lauren looked up to see one of the boys from class standing next to Erin.
Erin nodded silently, handing it over.
“I’m Connor. Want to color with me?”
Erin glanced over at Lauren, who nodded reassuringly, and she turned back to the boy. “Okay,” she said, and the boy pulled up a seat next to her.
Lauren smiled as she removed herself from the situation, putting a reassuring hand on Erin’s shoulder before she crossed to the other side of the room to check on the other students.
At three thirty, Lauren said good-bye to Janet and Delia and the children that remained before she gathered her things and headed out to the vestibule.
Just as she placed her bag down on the counter to find her keys, the front door swung open, and Lauren looked up to see Michael walking through the doors.
She dropped her eyes again, sifting through her purse with more urgency.
“Hi.”
She swallowed and gained her composure before she looked back up with a tiny smile. “Hi, how are you?”
Stupid contrived formalities. They felt so foreign on her tongue. Especially with Michael. But she didn’t know how else to handle him.
“I’m okay,” he answered,
And then it came to her. She’d handle him like any other parent. Friendly, but professional. All interactions based solely on the child in question.
“Good,” Lauren said, and this time her smile was genuine as she thought of Erin’s progress today. “She’s coming out of her shell.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and exhaled in what seemed like relief. “That’s good,” he said. “She’s smart, but she’s so shy, and I don’t want people to think she’s not friendly, or that she’s not listening, you know?”
“Oh, we know she’s listening, even if she’s not quick to talk about what she’s learning.”
This was good, Lauren thought. Natural. Safe.