“Jesus.” Will shoved his fingers through his hair and looked down at the ground. “I had no idea it was that bad.”
Wasn’t she a brilliant conversationalist? She could bring down a chat in three seconds flat. God, how depressing could she be?
She stood. “It’s not that bad, Will. The kids and I are doing just fine.” She hollered for Tabitha and Ryan, then turned to him. “Great to see you again.”
Will’s gaze was intense as he stood and came to stand beside her. “You don’t have to go, Jane.”
“Yes, I do. It’s late and it’s getting cool out here. I have papers to grade and the kids have homework. I’ll see you around.”
She gathered up the kids and headed down the street before she poured out her heart and soul and wept on Will’s shoulder, the absolute last thing she wanted to do.
She was strong, and a survivor. She hated those looks of sympathy and pity from anyone, especially Will.
Her life was just freaking fine.
* * *
Will watched Jane wander down the street with her kids. She held Tabitha’s hand, and Ryan was walking backward, talking nonstop to her about something.
Will had said something wrong, because she’d looked hurt or pissed off and she couldn’t wait to get away from him.
Maybe because she didn’t like talking about Vic and the divorce. Either way, he made a mental note to look forward, not back, the next time he saw her.
He knew he’d woken her up when he’d come upon her on the bench. She was likely exhausted. He wondered how long it had been since she’d gone out and had some fun. Had she even been out at all since the divorce? Or had she been so focused on rebuilding her life with the kids and making sure their needs were met that she hadn’t been meeting her own?
He might not be able to do anything about her sonofabitch loser of an ex-husband, but he could definitely do something about her having some fun.
CHAPTER THREE
Two algebra classes in a row always made her brain tired, but Jane lived for math, even if her students didn’t jump for joy over quadratic equations.
Her next class was basic math, so she’d get a breather, though she had a couple kids in this class who needed one-on-one help. They were skating the edge of failing and she’d be damned if she’d let that happen.
If a kid didn’t give a crap, she’d work with him or her and try to explain what it would mean to fail her class. She’d push and prod, and often, the kid would come around. Sometimes it wouldn’t matter, and no amount of cajoling and notes and phone calls home to parents would change the kid’s attitude. And attitude was so prevalent in this age group, where hormones came into play. There was so much to juggle at the early high school age. Boys and girls noticed each other, so you had burgeoning sexuality to deal with along with surging hormones.
So fun.
But God, she loved these kids, this awkward age she remembered so well from her own years in the gawky teens.
It hadn’t gone so well for her, so she tried her best to pave the way for those not born with perfect genetics.
After she went through the work with the entire class, she worked with Susie and Robert. Robert was more amenable to the one-on-one instruction. Susie was the balker. She was in foster care, her dad had never been in the picture, and her mom was in and out of jail for drugs. Jane’s heart went out to Susie, who hadn’t had an easy life since birth. Born addicted, she had some learning disabilities, but the kid was tough. Jane was determined to see her make it, despite all the strikes against her. She gave Bobby a worksheet and went through the simple math problems over and over again until Susie was frustrated.
“You want to pass this class, don’t you, Susie?” she asked.
Susie just shrugged a shoulder, affecting her typical “I don’t care” attitude as she stared at the worksheet.
“I think you’re really smart and you can do anything you set your mind to do.”
“I’m not smart,” she whispered. “I’m stupid.”
Jane so wanted to fold this girl in her arms and give her a huge hug. “You are smart. You have to work harder than anyone else in this entire school, so that means you’re smarter than any of them.”
Her dark eyed gaze lifted to Jane’s. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. So let’s show them all how smart you really are. And how tough you are. Don’t fail.”
She saw the tears of frustration shimmering in Susie’s eyes. “I’ll try.”
“That’s all you have to do.” Jane leaned over the worksheet and went over the math problems again. By the end of the class, Susie had gotten them all right. It felt like a triumph. Jane sent another worksheet home with Susie with a note to her foster parents to work on it with her, along with praise for how well she was doing.
It was all she could do, but she knew Susie had a good foster family. They’d work with her.
Her fingers were crossed.
After school, she went and picked up Tabitha and headed to the community center to work at the day-care center. Her dad was going to pick up Ryan and take him to baseball practice.
She wouldn’t have survived the past two years without her parents’ support. They’d pitched in when needed to run the kids to sports or dance if she had to go in an opposite direction. She tried not to lean on them too much, but frankly, she’d have drowned without them.
Tabitha loved the day-care center, so it was no hardship to bring her along. Several of her friends’ parents worked out at the community center, so she got to play for a few hours while Jane watched the kids. At least this afternoon there wouldn’t be any swimming involved and she could hide in the day-care room and not have to parade past the hard-body room.
She traded with Marisol, the other person on duty at the day-care room, checking kids in and out and alternately playing with them. They ranged in age from eighteen months—the minimum age they’d accept—to five years, Tabby’s age. After that, the parents were on their own, which was why she couldn’t bring Ryan.
Another reason she adored her parents. She needed this extra money, as paltry as it was, but working here a few days a week after school would help.
“Hey, Jane.”
She stood at the doorway, which had a door that partially opened from the top only. The bottom half of the door remained close to discourage runaway kids. She had just checked out one of the kids so she was initialing the departure.