What I saw nearly stopped my heart, it was so sweet. Lance carried Gigi on his hip, and she told him all about the science of cooking. There was something incredibly adorable and natural about them, like he’d been carrying her that way all her life. I wondered if he even realized he was doing it, or if he did it without thinking.
It was incredibly sexy, too. I couldn’t deny it even to myself that the sight of him taking care of her, listening very closely as she told him how buttermilk is made from milk and an acid, made my heart skip a beat. I smiled, turning my head away so he wouldn’t notice. I didn’t want to break the spell.
After we sat down, picking seats at random throughout the clubhouse, Lance sat beside me.
“What made you do this?” he asked, motioning to the food.
“I was hungry.” I shrugged.
“But breakfast for everybody?”
I shrugged again. “It seemed like the right thing to do.”
He nodded thoughtfully before digging in. “Well, I’m glad you did,” he said before shoving in another mouthful of pancake. I had to chuckle at how eager he was.
“I have to say, you and Gigi seem like you’re getting closer.”
He looked at his plate, and I wondered if I’d gone too far. It was a risk, getting personal like that. He seemed to let it roll off his back, though, replying, “Yeah, we’re pretty good friends already. She’s an easy kid to like. I’m glad she’s not one of those whiney brats you see in stores and places like that. Begging for a toy or a treat.”
“I have to admit, I can’t stand that either,” I murmured. We laughed together.
“I once saw a kid begging his mom for a candy bar at the drugstore. He was a pudgy little guy, too. So Mom was like ‘No chocolate. You already had dessert.’ Something like that. The kid burst into tears—fake tears, of course. He kept begging, ‘Please, Mama. Please, can I have the chocolate? Please?’ I thought it was pretty funny, actually, the way he wouldn’t let it go. Finally, what does he do? He picks up the damn thing and tries to hide it behind his back.”
“No!” I burst out laughing.
“Yeah, right? And his mom didn’t notice, actually. She had a bunch of things to carry. The guy behind her in line gave her the heads up before they left the store. She didn’t say anything at first, just took it from him and put it on the counter. But you could hear her screaming from inside once she got to the parking lot.”
“I bet. I don’t know, though. In that case, it sounds like the kid’s an addict or something. I’ve seen more spoiled kids in the five years I’ve been teaching…you have no idea. Kids who just come into school swinging their arms, trying to hit somebody. They don’t stop swinging until they leave. Then there are the kids who expect everything done for them. Or the ones who can’t be held responsible for anything, even if they lie or cheat. Their parents get up in arms if I dare call their snowflake out for being anything less than perfect. It’s really frustrating.”
“It sounds that way,” Lance murmured. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“I love kids. It sounds funny, maybe a little corny, but I do.” I smiled at him, and his smile lit up the room.
“Thanks for loving mine.” It was so quiet, only I could hear it—and even then, barely. I did hear it, though, and my heart skipped another beat. If I spent much more time around him, I would need a pacemaker.
“And another thing,” I said, thinking things over while I ate, “there’s something we have to keep in mind. Both of us.”
“What’s that?”
I looked over at Gigi, who ate her pancakes with Erica and one of the guys she massacred at poker. “Kids like her aren’t just born. They’re raised.” I turned back to Lance. “We have to remember that Rae raised her with the respect she has, the patience, the kindness. She’s the sweetest kid I know. Always trying to help the other kids in class with their work, even when they’re all dressed better than she is. Even when she comes to school with no lunch. She doesn’t cower in the corner. She still puts herself out there. Rae did that. She raised a good kid.”
We sat in silence, watching Gigi take over the room as she talked about the way science makes pancakes fluffy.
Chapter Ten
“I’m telling you, I could take a day off and let you be the teacher.” Gigi grinned, looking up from her notebook.
“You’re still the best teacher,” she assured me.