The Small Things

Sam Walsh was no stranger to tragedy. He had lost his wife to a drunk driver when his son had been just an infant. He had raised Sam Jr. all on his own and could not have been more proud of his son as he grew into a fine young man. When he was eighteen, Sam Jr. had gone away to college, and four years later he returned not only with his degree but with a cute brunette in tow. Jamie had been a wonderful addition to their little family, and Sam felt like they all had been truly blessed when his son married Jamie the following year. Their union produced a daughter, Polly, who was a little ball of fire combining the best traits of her mom and dad. Things seemed to be going as perfectly in his world as a man could reasonably expect in this life.

Then came the late night knock on his door. When Sam opened it to find a pair of police officers standing there he felt a tightness in his chest that mirrored the one that had seized him all those years earlier when his wife had died.

The fire department speculated later that a faulty water heater was to blame for the fire. In an instant, Sam Walsh was cast adrift in a sea of grief, but this time he didn't have the luxury of wallowing. There was one small miracle amidst the horror of that night. Polly had been staying with him to give her parents a break. He pulled the tiny four-year-old into his arms and did his best to hide the tears that threatened to rain down across his face knowing she wouldn't understand.

Yes, Sam Walsh was no stranger to tragedy and on this particular morning one year after the fire that had claimed the life of his son and daughter-in-law he was finding that such things could come in all shapes and sizes.

"I thought you liked the red top? You said you wanted to wear it on your first day."

"Not the red one with flowers! I wanted the one with the puppy on it!" said Polly her arms crossed indignantly.

Sam took a deep breath praying for patience. Polly was doing her best to look intimidating though it was a tough sell when you're standing in nothing but a pair of pajama bottoms adorned with tiny unicorns. The drawers of the antique dresser creaked open one at a time while Sam hunted for the correct red top, and his grand-daughter fumed nearby. At last, he found the right shirt and Polly's face broke into a smile.

"That's the good one!" she shouted jumping up and down.

"I'm glad you approve, but if we don't hurry you're going to be late for your first day of school."

"At the Panda Garden?"

"Kindergarten, Sweetie. Panda Garden is where we get dumplings."

"Oh! Can we get dumplings?"

"School first, Kid. Then we can talk about Chinese food, o.k."

Polly managed to get her head moving into an armhole instead of where her head should have been, and Sam moved to guide her in the right direction. Her wide-eyed face was so much like his sons at that age it gave him the strangest feeling of deja vu` as he worked to get the shirt on correctly. Thankfully, the rest of her outfit slipped on without a hitch. He scooped her tiny body into his arms, and she laughed deliriously as Sam swung her around.

"Higher! Higher! Grandpa!"

Sam winced feeling a twinge in his back forcing him to settle Polly back onto the ground much to her disappointment. Parenting was strenuous enough for the young, and Sam was staring his fifty-fourth birthday right in the face. He knew he needed to pace himself for this marathon.

"Come on. Let's get you some breakfast."

"I want the frosty ones!" shouted Polly as he led her downstairs.

"The frosty ones it is then."

The milk in the fridge smelled o.k. and Sam poured it into the bowl where Polly had already placed a thick layer of cereal. He sat at the small kitchen table watching her scoop spoonfuls of food into her mouth. Unlike most kids, Polly was cautious about how she ate getting upset if she spilled even the most minuscule morsel onto the table. Thankfully, this morning she was showing admirably control of her utensil leaving Sam to ponder the headlines in the morning paper as he sipped his coffee. The news held little of interest, and he sat the paper aside glancing out the window at the lawn which was growing a bit long. He made a mental note that he needed to get after it this weekend before his neighbors complained to the city that he wasn't doing his part to make the neighborhood look beautiful.

"Did daddy like cereal?" asked Polly suddenly.

Sam cleared his throat, "He sure did. I think the frosty ones were his favorite too."

Polly smiled to herself stirring the cereal around in the bowl. She would sometimes do this asking questions about her deceased parents out of the blue. It led to tears on occasion, but for the most part, it seemed to make her happy to stay connected to them. The truth was, it was often harder for Sam to answer the questions however innocent they might be since it reminded him just as strongly of all that he had lost. He reached over and patted Polly on the head.

"Almost done Sweetie? We need to get you to school."

"Big kids school!" she said proudly.

They had been driving past the grade school for the past year on their way to Polly's daycare. She had been fascinated from the beginning with the lines of kids on their way to school in the morning. This had led to endless questions about what went on inside the large red brick building which Polly had quickly come to designate, "The Big Kid's School," and how soon she would be allowed to join.

Sam placed a backpack around his grand-daughters slender shoulders, and she stood proudly holding her lunch pail. He snapped a quick photo of her with his phone commemorating the moment. The act made him feel a wistful sadness that his son wasn't there to see his little girl grow up. The tear that threatened to tumble down his face was quickly squashed. Polly, he doubted, would have understood her Grandfathers sadness on what was supposed to be a happy day.

They drove over to the school with Polly in the passenger seat of his big, gray pickup truck. The radio played the local classic rock station, and Sam smiled listening to Polly belt out the lyrics to an old Bon Jovi tune in her high-pitched voice.

The school was a bit of a madhouse it being the first day and all. Sam parked a block away, and he let Polly walk beside him though he longed to carry her in his arms. He knew her dignity meant more to her at this moment than her Grandfathers need to feel protective. They found her classroom after a couple of fits and starts. It was surrounded by a large group of parents all jockeying for position to capture the perfect photo of their respective child. Polly stood wide-eyed next to his leg looking at all the children running in circles.

"Grandpa! There's Amy!" shouted Polly and she was off before he could move.

Amy was one of her friends from daycare whose parents had enrolled her in the same school as Polly. Sam was grateful they had also ended up in class together as it might smooth the transition for Polly to have a familiar face nearby. The two girls embraced banging their lunch pails together in the process.

"It's always nice to start school with a friend," commented a voice from just behind him.

Sam turned to look over his shoulder. The words had come from a woman who barely reached his chest in height with her small face almost hidden in a cascade of dark, curly hair. She brushed some of the more offending strands back revealing a pair of deep brown, and vaguely almond shaped eyes denoting a mixed heritage. The smile that adorned her face revealed rows of perfectly even white teeth that stood out against the backdrop of her soft, tan lips. Her skin all over was a light shade of brown, and Sam imagined she must have a bit of Asian blood.

"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. I'm Sam Walsh by the way," he replied automatically sticking out one meaty hand.

"Kate Ryan. It's nice to meet you, Sam."

Her tiny hand vanished into his, and he was careful not to grip it too hard. He was a carpenter by trade, and it wouldn't do to crush the bones of one of his fellow parents on the first day of school.

"Which one of these wild things is yours?"

"All of them," said Kate laughing at the look of surprise that showed on Sam's face.

"I'm teaching the Kindergarten class this year," she clarified.

"Oh! I see. It looks like you will have your hands full in that regard."

"Don't worry Mr. Walsh. I am fully prepared to meet the onslaught," said Kate.

"Please. You can call me Sam."

"O.K. Sam. I'm sorry, but duty calls."

Sam stepped aside as Kate went to corral her group of chatty young children into something that resembled a controlled mass. He was amazed at how quickly she was able to pull them all together and bring relative silence out of the cacophony of voices that had permeated the air before her arrival. The children seemed to respond naturally to her accepting her authority without question. It was an impressive display, and Sam found himself admiring more than just Kate's looks although those were considerable.

The children filed past him in a straight line guided by Kate into the classroom. He gave Polly a wave as she vanished inside smiling. Before the door closed, Kate favored him with a last smile which he returned in kind. He tried not to leer, but he couldn't help stealing a glance at the rest of her framed in the doorway. The conservative outfit she was wearing hid more than it revealed, but he could see that she had some very toned legs, and the swell of a decent pair of breasts pressed against her frilly white top.

The walk back to his truck was filled with worries about Polly, and a few fleeting thoughts about her very attractive teacher which Sam did his best to dismiss from his mind.

"Girl couldn't be more than twenty-five. Quit being a dirty old man!" grunted Sam to himself.

He set off to the job site that was first on his list today.

The day was looking to be a hot one, and Sam removed his jacket after arriving at the partially completed house where his friend, and current boss, Nick Borland waited. He rolled up his sleeves revealing a pair of well-muscled arms, tanned from years spent in the sun. One hand slid through his still thick, dark brown hair which in spite of his age had just a few flecks of gray showing then he bent over into the cab of his truck to retrieve his tools.

"Hey! Sam."

"Nick. How are things looking?"

"Right on schedule. I need you to look at putting in the staircase this week. They want some real custom work done on it," replied Nick.

Nick Borland rolled out a set of architectural drawings holding them out of the way of his rather prodigious belly. He was a man that enjoyed his meals, and it showed. They might have been close to the same age, but Sam was definitely doing the better job of holding Father Time at bay. He was still neat and trim standing next to the more rotund Nick Borland whose hairline was also in full retreat even as his gut expanded.

"I see what you mean. I think we can accommodate them it shouldn't be that big of a deal," said Sam with a shrug.

"Good. Today was Polly's first day of school wasn't it?"

"I dropped her off before coming," said Sam as Nick fell in next to him, and they walked toward the framed out house.

"My grand-kid is going to the same school. My son was telling me they got a new Kindergarten teacher there that was quite the looker. A Kate-something or other. Any chance..."

"Yeah. I know the one you're talking about. She is Polly's teacher."

"Well?" said Nick leaving the question unspoken but painfully obvious.

Sam stopped to set his toolbox down then smiled sheepishly at Nick, "She is just as gorgeous as your son hinted but very young. I feel dirty just talking about her."

"Hey, nothing wrong with looking at the menu even when we can't sit down to eat," laughed Nick.

"Well...Just the same she seems like a really nice lady, so I am going to try to keep my mind out of the gutter."

"Suit yourself, Pal. You know younger women often go for older guys though, and it's been how long since the last time you had a date?"

"I'm not even going to go there, Nick. She's half my age if not more, and my granddaughter's teacher. It would be...Well, I don't know what but it seems inappropriate to me."

"I'm just saying it never hurts to try and maybe you'll get lucky. Frankly, I could use a nice dirty story to liven my sex life up a tad. The wife is knee-deep in post-menopause these days, so sex is more of an afterthought if you catch my drift. I would even settle for something made up, so lie and tell me you asked her out."

"I need to get to work, Nick," said Sam shaking his head and laughing.

"O.K. fine," said Nick in defeat walking away.

Sam bent over to pull a tape measure from his toolkit and started to look at the area where the new staircase would go. He tried to focus on what he was doing, but his mind kept drifting back to a certain Kindergarten teacher.

When his day ended Sam swung by the school to pick up Polly. He had gotten her into an after-school care program to make up the difference in his work hours and her schedule, so she was in the cafeteria when he arrived coloring at a table with some other girls. Their tiny, excited voices echoed in the large room where he spied Kate Ryan sitting with another teacher watching the kids from a short distance away. She got up and came over to him.

"It's good to see you again, Sam."

"Thanks. So how did she do?" he asked indicating Polly with a nod of his head.

"She was wonderful. A very mature young lady for her age. I look forward to meeting her parents when they have time to come around. They did a great job raising her."

"Yes they did, but I'm afraid that won't be possible. Polly's parents died in a fire last year. She lives with me now."

Kate looked very distressed, "Oh! I'm so sorry Sam! I was hired late and haven't gone over the files on all my kids yet. I had no idea."

"It's o.k," said Sam.

"That must have been very hard for you," she said sympathetically.

"A parent should never outlive their child," he admitted.

The silence between them started to grow a bit awkward, so Sam changed the subject.

"So, I should ask you how your first day was since you're new here."

"It was fine I have a nice mix of kids. A few rambunctious ones, but that goes with the territory," she said laughing.

He loved the sound of her laughter. Something was intoxicating about it that seemed to lift his spirits.

If he had just been twenty years younger perhaps?

"Kate! I thought you said you would be ready to go by five?" came an irritated sounding voice.

The voice belonged to a well-built young man who looked roughly close to Kate in age. He was wearing a custom-made suit that Sam figured probably cost as much as his entire wardrobe. The click of his Italian made leather shoes on the cafeteria tile followed him all the way as he stopped just in front of Sam and Kate.

"Sam, this is my boyfriend, Beau. Beau Mansfield, please meet Sam Walsh."

The younger man reached out and took Sam's hand in a crushing grip. Beau appeared to work out, but Sam had spent his entire life working with his hands so though he had never been in a gym he was plenty strong in his own right. Beau's smile faltered a bit when he realized the older man was taking the handshake with no ill effect.

"Pleasure to meet you, Beau," said Sam politely while increasing the pressure of their handshake making Beau wince.

"Likewise..." He said with a grimace pulling his hand back.

Beau rubbed his hand slightly, "It's getting close to time for the party, Kate. I thought you would want to go home and change."

"I was kind of hoping I could just wear what I have on."

Beau diverted his attention to Kate eying her up and down critically, "You look beautiful as always, Darling, but Marshall McDonough will be there, and he is a key client. I thought you might want to look a little more..."

He let the words hang in the air, but Kate seemed to take his meaning.

She frowned but nodded looking away, "Then we should go, so I have time to put on a different dress. Let me tell Ms. Wright that I'm leaving. It was good to see you again, Sam."

Sam nodded as Kate walked away. Beau busied himself with his cell phone turning his back dismissively. The act made Sam snort softly in the back of his throat. He had seen this kind of behavior before from other men the type of guys who used their wives or girlfriends as tools in the advancement of their careers. These same sorts of men tended to be narcissistic to a fault, and Beau seemed to fit that mold. He did wonder at why Kate would put up with it but certainly didn't know her well enough to pry into her private business by asking.

"Look, Grandpa, I drew a whale," said Polly proudly.

He took the single sheet of drawing paper in his big hand assessing her effort with a keen eye.

"You sure did! This may be the finest looking whale I've ever laid eyes on. It's going right on the fridge when we get home."

Sam took Polly by the hand leading her out, but not without one last look at Kate Ryan.

Dinner time was always a bit of a chore at the Walsh household. Polly had decided that the only food fit for a girl at her age was hot dogs and despite the dubious nutritional value Sam had not been able to dissuade her from the idea. He had insisted that she drink milk with her hot dog and at least try a vegetable. The green beans Sam had cooked were going largely untouched at this point.

"Polly, we talked about this you have to take at least a few bites of your vegetable. If you don't eat some greens, you won't grow up big and strong like me."

His granddaughter's eyes narrowed unhappily.

"I did try a bite. It tasted terrible!"

"That's what you said about the asparagus and the Lima beans. We need to find something green you can eat, kid."

"I know something green I can eat."

"What's that?"

"Jello!"

Sam laughed, "Nice try. Three more green beans and you can leave the table."

He bathed Polly after dinner listening to no small amount of grousing about how much she hated having her hair washed. They spent a bit of time picking out her goodnight outfit finally settling on her pajamas with the flowers on them. She played quietly in the living room with her dolls while Sam cleaned the kitchen before he carried her up to her room for story time. The collection of books she picked from had belonged to his son and there was plenty of nostalgia crammed into each page. The story tonight was about a little train engine trying it's best to get up a steep hill, and Polly insisted on making the train noises herself giving out a loud "TOOT, TOOT" whenever necessary.

When Sam went to tuck her in, she carefully folded her hands in front of her.

"Time to say goodnight to Mommy and Daddy in Heaven," she said solemnly.

It always unnerved Sam how calmly she said these words every night. He wished he could be so at peace with things. They prayed together, and then he gently kissed her head.

"Goodnight, Grandpa. I love you."

"Love you too, Sweetie, sleep tight," he said shutting off the light.

The glow of her Moon shaped night light lit her pretty face as she closed her eyes to sleep.

The first couple of weeks of school went by in a blur with Sam's refrigerator quickly becoming covered with Polly's drawings. He might be biased but he thought she showed some talent especially when it came to drawing sea creatures which were her favorites. The school open house promised to bring even more of Polly's work to his eye.

The parking lot was full by the time he arrived with Polly in tow, so they had to park down the street and walk back. The other parents milled around the small classroom with its tiny desks cut down to fit the diminutive students that occupied them lined up in neat rows. Polly led Sam around by one hand excitedly pointing out her creations.