Adam didn’t think of Kyle during the next week at work. He didn’t think about the encounter in Morrison’s parking lot. He didn’t think about Kyle wearing only a towel, pink from the shower. He didn’t think about Kyle’s eyes every time he saw the same brown eyes set in Caroline’s face, sitting in the front row of his class. He certainly didn’t watch for Kyle when Adam managed after-school pickup on Wednesday, and he absolutely wasn’t disappointed when a gray sedan pulled up and an older man was greeted with “Grandpa!” before he loaded Caroline into the back.
None of those things. Not at all.
Adam turned down plans with Rebecca and her family on Saturday. He told her he wanted some time to himself, but as the afternoon rolled around, he found himself at the community center, in case Kyle turned up for basketball again. He ignored the twinge of disappointment when he found Ben shooting hoops. Alone.
“Kyle said he figured it was better for us to play shorthanded than with him,” Ben said, when Adam asked if Kyle was coming. Adam’s immediate inclination was to leave, but that would only lead to questions he didn’t want to answer.
His behavior was becoming a problem. Kyle was an acquaintance at best. With a dead wife. He was the parent of a student. He probably wouldn’t welcome Adam’s interest, and if he did, there were still a number of very solid personal and professional reasons why it was a bad idea. Since Adam had come to Red Creek, he had meticulously kept his personal life and professional life separate. There was no good reason to break that rule.
Adam missed a free throw.
He skipped Morrison’s after the game. He lied and said he had plans with Rebecca. Rebecca’s family had left hours ago, gone hiking for the day, but whatever. He drove around in circles for a bit, before turning into the grocery store. He’d grab some food for dinner, then go home, open a beer, watch a movie, and not dwell on how often Kyle seemed to appear in his thoughts.
“Mr. Hathaway!”
Adam had just popped a frozen pizza into his basket when a little voice called his name. Running into his students in public wasn’t uncommon; it was a small town. He prepared his usual professional smile and wave.
“Mr. Hathaway!” the voice called again. This time, his spine turned to ice. Sure enough, there was Caroline Fenton, waving at him from the end of the frozen foods aisle. Her father stood next to her. She ran toward Adam, and Kyle followed.
Caroline’s hair was braided in some complicated style. Rebecca would know the name of it if she were there. Kyle was dressed in black skinny jeans and a T-shirt that read Boba Fett for President. He smiled as they got closer, and Adam’s chest started to ache.
“Hi, Caroline,” he said. “Hello, Mr. Fenton.”
“You can call me Kyle, Mr. Hathaway.” Kyle’s face crinkled. Dimples appeared. Adam’s throat went dry.
“Look, Mr. Hathaway!” Caroline spun around on one foot. “I’m Princess Amazonia!” Adam frowned. Her T-shirt said Not a Princess. Was that meant to be ironic?
“She means her hair,” Kyle said. Adam was immediately pissed at Kyle for being a considerate asshole. He was trying to keep some distance, and Kyle being kind to him was not helpful.
“It’s very nice,” he said to Caroline. “Did you do it yourself?”
“No!” Caroline sounded like he’d asked her if she could fly. “Daddy did.” She patted Kyle’s leg.
“Did he?” Adam was impressed. He’d never understood how to do things like that. Rebecca had tried to teach him while forcing him to sit in on parties with her dolls when they were kids. When he’d attempted to braid one of the dolls’ hair, he’d messed it up so badly that there had been no other option but for their mother to cut the doll’s hair off. Adam had never been invited to another tea party again.
“It’s nothing.” Kyle smiled down at his daughter. “Your mom used to do fancy things with your hair, didn’t she, Bean?” Caroline twisted her torso, her arms waving from side to side as she went. She seemed unfazed by the mention of her mother. “Caroline asked me if we could try a new style this morning,” Kyle continued, speaking to Adam now. “A little YouTube, and there you go!”
“You can learn that on YouTube?” Adam said.
“Dude, you can learn everything on YouTube! I can butterfly a whole chicken in under five minutes, and I know six ways to get bubble gum out of the carpet!” Kyle was practically vibrating in the frozen food aisle. Adam couldn’t think of anything appropriate to say in public about butterflying a chicken, so he turned back to familiar Mr. Hathaway territory.
“And which of the food groups did you and your dad buy today?” he asked Caroline.
She eyed their cart. Kyle gestured to a bunch of bananas.
“Fruits!” she said. “And vegetables. And milk and . . .” Kyle pointed to a package of tofu. “Protein!”
“Good job, Bean,” Kyle said. “And what’s the last one?”
Adam could see a box of brown rice on the top of the pile. They had talked about different ways to cook grains, including rice, in class the day before.
“Butter!” Caroline bypassed the rice, lifting up a block of butter in triumph instead.
“Not quite.” Adam laughed. “Butter’s not a food group.”
“But Daddy said it was.” Her face was serious. “He said it was Grandpa’s favorite food group!”
Adam’s laugh grew when he saw the horrified expression on Kyle’s face.
“We’re still working on it,” Kyle said. “Caroline and Grandpa, they both need some help with their food groups.”
“Well, maybe Grandpa wants to come to class on Monday, and we’ll see if we can help him,” Adam said to Caroline.
“What about you, Mr. Hathaway?” Kyle’s grin showed his dimples again as he leaned forward to inspect Adam’s basket. “What food groups are you buying?”
Adam froze. This had seemed like a good game when they’d been talking about Kyle’s cart, but Adam’s selections weren’t going to be as first grade curriculum-approved.
“Pizza!” Caroline sounded like she’d struck gold.
“Cheeseburger pizza at that. Not many vegetables in that, Mr. Hathaway.” Kyle picked his way through the rest of the basket. Adam’s breath caught in his throat as Kyle got close. He could see a mark in Kyle’s earlobe, where he had worn an earring at some point. Did he still wear one sometimes, or was part of being super hair-braiding, healthy-eating Dad giving up the piercing?
“I don’t know,” Kyle said, breaking into Adam’s musings. “Despite the name, those dill pickle potato chips don’t actually contain any pickles, so we can’t count them as a vegetable either. Jelly Bean, looks like Mr. Hathaway’s got some work to do too.
“I’m not much of a cook.” Adam didn’t know why he was explaining himself, but he didn’t like that Kyle disapproved of him, or at least his preference for freezer pizza.
“It’s never too late to learn new tricks!” Kyle turned to stage-whisper at his daughter. “What should we do to help him?”
“Um . . .” Caroline’s face scrunched up the way kids did when they were thinking hard.
“Maybe we should invite him for dinner so we can show him what a balanced meal is?”
Caroline’s eyes got big. Adam’s might have too. She nodded vigorously, her braids bobbing between her shoulders.
“Do you want to ask him?” Kyle said. She shook her head. “Do you want me to?”
“Yes please,” she said.
“Mr. Adam Hathaway.” His voice was loud and official sounding as he ignored the frowns of the other shoppers who passed by. “Miss Caroline Fenton and I would be delighted if you would attend our culinary demonstration on the preparation of a balanced meal, which will begin promptly at six o’clock this evening in the home of Mr. Gordon Fenton who, regrettably, is working the night shift and will not be available for this miraculous display. Would you grace us with your presence?” He swept into a bow, right there in the middle of the freezer aisle. Caroline giggled, but when Kyle poked her in the ribs she picked up imaginary skirts and sank into the most regal curtsy Adam had ever seen a six-year-old pull off. They held the pose for a moment, but then Caroline started to wobble. Kyle put out a hand to steady her before he straightened. His eyes danced, and his face was flushed.
“So what do you say?” he asked. “Seriously, it’s no big deal. You said you’d listen if I ever needed to talk. Think of this as me paying for the favor in advance. My dad’s working, and it’s only the two of us tonight. I was going to make burgers. It’s not a problem to cook some extras.”
Adam winced at his feeble selections, but he didn’t have any real plans except for a night on his couch with Netflix. He should decline Kyle’s invitation though. It toed the line of professional boundaries to accept, and anyway it was very last minute. Adam didn’t want to impose, but Kyle and Caroline were watching him with twin expressions of anticipation on their faces.
“You said six o’clock?” he said. Kyle grinned, dimples flashing. Those dimples were going to kill Adam.
“Do you have a phone? I’ll give you the address.” Kyle pulled his own phone out of his back pocket. The exchange of information was quick.
“Bye, Mr. Hathaway!” Caroline called as they headed back up the aisle. “See you tonight!”
“Bye, Mr. Hathaway!” Kyle echoed. Adam smiled and waved.
He felt like he’d survived a tornado.
And now he was going to have dinner with one.