More than a Substitute

"Thank you," she said, backing up.

When she stepped back, I saw that she was a little teary-eyed. I cocked my head and asked, "Are you OK?"

"I'm fine," she said, smiling. "It's just been an overwhelming month, taking over the class so suddenly. I'm just glad that Christmas break is here. Everything's catching up with me all at once, I think. But really...thank you for helping." She wasn't just touchy, she was a talker, too. I didn't mind, though.

"Don't mention it," I said as Noah walked up to us. Looking up at his teacher, Noah gripped her leg in a friendly hug. "It's OK, Mrs. Abella," he said, then walked over to me. Mrs. Abella and I looked at each other, silently expressing how sweet we thought that was, then Noah and I headed out the door.

"See you next semester?" I asked.

"I hope so," she said. Then she had a horrified expression. "I mean, I don't hope that Mrs. Campbell is still sick...but if she is, I hope I still am able to teach, because I can sure use the work. Oh, God, that sounded so horrible. But I hope I can see you again either way...and Noah...Sorry, I'm not making sense, am I?"

"I get it," I said, trying not to laugh at her obvious discomfort. "Let's just stick with Merry Christmas, then."

"And Happy New Year!" Jax shouted from across the room, part of our silent audience.

*******

Mrs. Abella was back the next semester. Noah told me on the first day back how happy he was to see her. It was good to see that he had made another connection. He still asked about Mrs. Campbell now and then, and he prayed for her at night, but I think it was like with his mom- if I didn't talk about it much, he eventually stopped asking. I didn't really want Carrie to fade from his life like that, and sometimes his questions assured me that she hadn't, but for me it was a lot easier to not think about her as much.

A few days into the new semester, a sign-up sheet came home in Noah's backpack. They were asking parents to come in and read a book to the class during the last few minutes of the day. I signed up for a slot the next week, and Noah helped me pick out the book he wanted me to read to everyone.

Mrs. Abella greeted me when I showed up to read. She was wearing jeans and a nice blouse. The jeans were tight and showed off her lean legs. I wanted to admire them, but I knew Ms. Murray's eyes were on me- I always thought she was a little suspicious of the single dad, like I was a predator or something. Nevertheless, Mrs. Abella smiled warmly at me, and her hand gently touched my back as she led me into the classroom. She sure was touchy. She even sat cross-legged next to me on the floor, leaning against me now and then when we all laughed. Those little touches- brushes of the arm, a shoulder against my back- Felt so much more intimate than they should have. They felt intimate because they felt familiar. This wasn't like awkward strangers bumping into each other but more like two old friends, or even lovers, who are used to sharing the same space.

I read the story, with a little help from Noah, and I tried to use funny voices for all the characters. I loved watching the kids laugh. Mrs. Abella thanked me as Noah and I left after class.

"Please come back anytime," she said, putting a hand on my arm. "There are plenty of spots to sign-up for, if you want to. I think the kids...and I...like having you here."

It was innocent enough. She was a friendly woman. If she was single, I would have thought she was flirting with me. If she was single, I would have wanted to flirt back. It was nice getting the attention of a pretty woman, and even if my heart was weary, the rest of my anatomy was operating like business as usual. But she was a young mom, and somewhere there was a Mr. Abella- probably as young and handsome as his wife was young and beautiful- who would not want me getting the wrong idea about her innocent, friendly behavior. I pictured the kind of man she was probably with- tall, with short spiky hair- the face of a model and the body of an athlete. I bet they looked perfect together, his strength complementing her beauty.

But even if I consciously kept an appropriate distance, my subconscious was still hard at work. That night, in my dreams, I relived a scene from my past- part memory, part fantasy. I was with Noah and Carrie, at the beach. We chased each other through the waves, Noah giggling as he played in the sand. Carrie fell laughing into my arms, and I slid my hand up the side of her body, which was much thinner than I ever remembered it being. Moving in for a kiss, I felt my heart surge with love and desire, lacing my fingers in her brown hair It didn't strike me as odd that her hair was brown instead of red.

I pulled back and we ran, hand-in-hand, to the shore. Sitting down around Noah, I felt contentment and peace, feeling those things for the first time in ages. A hand reached down and stroked Noah's hair. Looking back at the woman curled up next to me in the sand, I saw Mrs. Abella's twinkling smile gazing down on my son. She leaned over to me and we kissed, and everything felt right about that.

Waking slowly, I looked to my side at the empty half of the bed- the unused pillow reminding me that I had only dreamed of contentment, not really felt it. I sighed, realizing that even if I found a substitute wife- someone to keep house, care for Noah, and sleep with me- I still wouldn't really be happy. Some things would be easier, sure, but for real contentment, to really feel what I had glimpsed in that dream, I needed more than just a substitute. In the meantime, my dream had left me with a more urgent issue that had me pulling back the covers, lowering my sweatpants, and reaching for the box of tissues.

*******

A weeks later was Valentine's Day. No big party, this time, but there was a special snack time and exchanging of valentines. Parents were invited to come in a little before dismissal to help with snacks and to hear a little song the kids had prepared. I came in, getting a side hug from a hurried Mrs. Abella.

I sat among a few other moms, one or two of whom I had chatted with before. It was usually awkward, though. Most of them didn't know what to talk to me about. They knew about Noah's mom, but to always be asking soberly, "How is Noah doing with that?" got really old. So I mostly just listened as they talked about things their families did. One of them had once tried to set me up with a single friend of hers, but at the time it had only been 8 months since Carrie had died and, well, even if certain parts of me were eager to get a woman in my life, my heart just hadn't been ready. And I had no idea how to approach that issue with Noah. So you see, buddy, Daddy has certain needs... Yeah, I wasn't going there just yet.

During the song (which turned out to be three short songs with hand motions), Mrs. Abella came over and sat next to me. Again, it was innocent enough, but then during a point in a song where Noah got particularly involved in the dancing, she put her hand over on mine, which was in my lap, and pointed at him. Her hand lingered on mine for a bit longer than was needed to get my attention- in fact, she left it there for the rest of the song. What was I supposed to think of that? It wasn't like I minded being touched. Just the feel of a woman's soft skin on mine was...wow...something I hadn't realized how much I'd been missing. But the possible inappropriateness of it bothered me. That, and I wanted to touch back.

I looked over at her and admired the happiness in her eyes. She really loved these kids. She was the kind of woman that I hoped to someday be able to find again, if I could be so lucky twice in one life.

As class was ending, Mrs. Abella stood up and said, "Moms and dads, remember next Friday is conference day, so if you haven't signed up yet, please see me before you leave!" Conference day, right. I had forgotten. A 20-30 minute block of time to sit down with the teacher and review where your child is on certain standards of development. Noah was usually right on track, maybe a little more advanced on some of the emotional development scales, but hey, the kid had seen a lot. What I most liked about the time was that they went through things like art projects to show you what some of the things meant- this showed good fine motor skills, this showed a hard time distinguishing colors, etc. And they always tried to praise your kid- a lot. So that was nice.

Anyway, I needed to sign up, so I found Mrs. Abella right about when Jax was coming in, after all the other kids and parents had been ushered out. All the good time slots- early morning or right before pick-up- were taken already, so I had to go right in the middle of the morning- breaking up a good chunk of work hours. Oh well.

As she wrote down my name on the schedule, Mrs. Abella asked without looking up, "So do you and Noah have any plans for Valentine's Day?"

I looked over at the boys building a block tower in the corner. "No...not really our thing, I guess."

"Aww, too bad."

"You? Did you manage to get a sitter on the busiest baby-sitting night of the year?"

"Me? Oh, no...not me," she said, picking up her bag and walking over to the boys. "I've got my little Valentine right here." She pulled Jax close to her side, and he whined in protest. "Mom, don't make me knock over the tower!"

She let him go and stood up to face me. "We'll be making heart-shaped cookies and talking to grandma and grandpa on the computer tonight, right sweetie?" She got no answer from Jax, who was watching eagerly as Noah tried to add another block on top of the tower.

"That sounds like a fun family night," I said, picturing the three of them decorating cookies together in a kitchen. "And it actually sounds like I good idea- calling grandparents, I mean. Maybe Noah and I can do that tonight," I said. Then as Noah gingerly pulled his hands away from their creation, I said, "Hey bud, let's go. You can see if the tower it still up when you come back in the morning."

"It will be, Dad. It's super strong!" he said with confidence. Mrs. Abella and I smiled wryly at each other, hoping he wouldn't be disappointed. We waved goodbye and headed home.

*******

Conference day. Ms. Murray and Miss Rivera kept the kids occupied all day while Mrs. Abella met with the parents who came in. I showed up for my 10:30 appointment just as the kids were heading out to the playground. Despite being late February, the temperature was mild, so the kids were getting some much-needed outside play time. I sat down in Noah's classroom at a little table across from Mrs. Abella.

"So, I'm sure you don't need me to tell you this, but Noah's an absolute joy to have in class. He's so well-mannered and I can tell you take wonderful care of him," she said. Oh, the flattery. I loved it. Even though I knew every parent would hear this, it still made me feel good. She went on to talk about his development, including some areas he could work on- mostly verbally expressing his needs. Yeah, I think Noah stopped expressing those as much when I went through a phase of unresponsiveness during the last weeks of Carrie's life. I silently cursed myself for hurting him that way.

"So here's a picture he drew back in January, when we were learning about families..." She held up a big sheet of paper that had a drawing of me, Noah, and an angel flying overhead. "You can see that he has a good understanding of relative size and perspective- you know, the heads are the right size compared to the bodies, feet are on the ground, people stand next to each other, and...um...the angel...in the sky and all."

I winced a little at that. "Yeah, that's...probably his mom."

"I know," she said softly. "He told the whole class who it was...and Ms. Murray filled me in on the details. I'm really sorry."

"It's OK. We're...OK."

"I have no idea what to tell you about how to help him deal with that. I just...wish there was an easy way to explain things like that."

"There's not, really. But thanks."

After a few seconds of awkward silence, she continued. "Anyway, I just pulled that out to show you an example of how he's doing developmentally. Now, with some parents, I give them ideas on how to be continuing our lessons at home, but I'm not going to try to give you a big plan of how to help him at home, unless you want me to. I know how hard it is being a single parent- you're just trying to keep things together, most days. Who has time for anything else, right?'

"Yeah...it's a struggle sometimes. But I'd love to hear any suggestions you have. I mean...I am lucky enough to have a job with some flexibility. So I can usually devote my afternoons to being with Noah."

"Really?" she said, surprised. Then the words just rushed out of her, like they tended to do sometimes, "God, that sounds amazing. I try to do that, but with cleaning and laundry and making food and everything, I'm just so overwhelmed. And then I still have to prepare lessons for the next day, and I work part-time a few evenings, too, and if I put everything off until after Jax is asleep, then I'm too tired to get anything done. How do you do it?"

I narrowed my eyes and looked at her. "Is Mr. Abella not around?" I asked, getting the impression that he wasn't. Widow? But she didn't seem to connect with me over losing a spouse. Divorced so young?

"Who?" she asked with obvious bewilderment.

"Mr. Abella."

"Who's 'Mr. Abella'?"

"Jax's dad...?"

"Brian...you've lost me. I have no idea what you're talking about," she said, seeming as confused as I was.

"You're talking like you're a single parent, too. Or at least that's what it sounds like. I'm sorry if it's too personal a question, but I'm just wondering what happened to your husband."

She turned her eyes up in thought, mumbling to herself, "Mr. Abella...Mr. Abella...Mrs..." Then her expression changed and she laughed. "Oh...my...God...that is too funny!" she said. Then reaching her hand across the table to give me a handshake, she said, "Hi, we haven't been properly introduced. I'm Isabella, single mom. The children call me Miss...Isabella. You can call me Isa."

*******

I looked at her for a few seconds in disbelief. Then taking her hand gently in mine, I shook it slowly. "Well, Miss Isabella...Isa...I'm Brian, single dad. And I can't tell you how happy I am to finally meet you."

She smiled in that beautiful way that made her eyes almost disappear into sparkling slits above her cheeks. Then she released my hand, sat back and asked, "All this time you thought I was married?"

Still a little shocked, I said, "Can you give me a minute to mentally revisit the past three months in light of this new information?"

She half-nodded her head and said, "Go ahead...we've got another couple minutes before the kids get back."

My mind replayed scenes from the Christmas program...reading in the class...Valentine's Day... "OK," I said, taking a deep breath, "One more question...that hopefully won't make things too awkward..."

"Go ahead," she said, finding a lot of humor in this.

"Have you been flirting with me?"

"YES!" she said, leaning forward and smacking her hands down on the table. "And I thought, Oh my God, is this guy just not at all interested in me? Is it too soon for him? Have I lost my touch? Am I being too subtle? And all along, here you are thinking I'm married! And I just thought it was cute how you called me 'Miss Isabella' all the time..." She paused for a breath and so I jumped in.

"Meanwhile I'm picturing your husband coming after me for the things I'm thinking about you, and I'm wondering how you could be so touchy-feely and not realize the effect you're having on men."

"So I did have some effect on you," she said triumphantly. I raised my eyebrows and gave her an "are you kidding me?" look. Just then the door opened and a group of rosy-cheeked kids walked single file into the room, and I turned around to look. Noah smiled at me but stayed in line and stayed quiet. I gave him a wink and a thumbs up. He tried to wink back, but he ended up just blinking. Mrs. Abella...Isa...chuckled behind me.

All my thoughts of my heart not being ready and not having time or energy to get close...it didn't matter for a moment. I knew this was a matter that should be handled delicately. I knew I had to proceed with caution and not rush into anything without carefully preparing Noah for any changes. I knew all that, but I just didn't care- for just a moment, I didn't care, and that was all it took. Isa passed me a paper I needed to sign to acknowledge that she had gone over all the conference material with me. I signed the paper, but before pushing it back, I pulled out my wallet and grabbed an old receipt. I jotted on the back, "You & Jax, dinner @ my place today? 5?" No sense in alerting Ms. Murray to any shenanigans.

Isa's eyes went wide as she read it, and she looked at me, beaming. After she nodded, I grabbed another receipt (they tend to pile up in my wallet) and wrote down my address for her. Then standing together, we walked towards the door. Ms. Murray was leading a child into the bathroom and Miss Rivera was busy helping kids remove coats, so Isa leaned towards me, going on her tiptoes to help close the few inches of difference in our heights, and put her mouth near my ear.

"See you at dinner," she said softly, then planted the slightest little kiss on my cheek. I floated out of the classroom and back to my car. Forget work, I needed to get home and clean.

*******

I smiled to myself as I picked dirty laundry off the floor and took dirty dishes to the kitchen. Without intending to, Isa had sneaked past my guard. I hadn't been considering her as a possibility for a relationship, so I let myself start to like her and feel comfortable around her. And now that the door was open to something more, the foundation had already been laid. But I didn't know what to tell Noah. I wished I had planned this a little better. I'm not normally so impulsive. Normally it would have taken me a week of planning to arrange something like this.

"Hey bud," I said to him that afternoon. "Do you like playing with Jax?"

"Jax?" he asked, "Yeah, I guess."

"Do you want him to come over our house today? You could show him your toys..."

Noah was silent a few moments. Then he asked softly, "Will Miss Isabella come, too?"

"If that's OK with you," I said, hoping he wouldn't be too nervous about his teacher coming over.

"Then YES!" he said suddenly. "I love Miss Isabella!" OK, then. Apparently Jax was an acceptable part of the plan, so long as he brought his mom with him. As I was picking up toys from the living room floor a few minutes later, I got a text from Isa.

Sorry to bug you. Jax is restless, I'm frustrated. Can we come over sooner?

I looked around the house with a sense of defeat, Even if I cleaned up, it would revert to the same messy state in a few hours. I texted back, Sure. We've all been there. But an earlier arrival means a messier house.

A few seconds later I received, On our way :) I walked into the kitchen and pulled some food out to get a jump start on dinner.

*******

I actually thought about their arrival. Should I hug her? Shake hands? Side hug? What was appropriate? What would be wise and not confusing for the boys? What would be more than just friendly but not overkill?

The doorbell rang and Noah ran to open it. He stood in the doorway, staring up at Isa, blocking their way in. I walked over, wiping my hands on a towel just as Noah threw his arms around Isa's legs. Just then, Jax bolted past and started running down the hall. I think 4-year-olds have a toy radar- they know just where to find things.