Penny

I said never again, and yet here I am. In my idea of motherhood torture.

“I know you didn’t want to do this after last year, so I’ve given you the easiest task. It’s the bouncy castle. The bouncy castle company operates it. All you have to do is take the money, give the kids the token, and tell them to stand in line,” Kate says, her voice soft and slow, as if she’s talking her daughter into going to the dentist.

“Thanks for giving me the bouncy castle, I appreciate it.”

“Hunter should be here any minute to help. The two of you just have to sit here in these nice, comfy chairs for two hours and you’re done.”

My eyes shift to the blue chairs. Designed for six-year-olds, the chairs come up to my knees and are definitely not my idea of comfortable.

I nod and sit, my knees almost at my ears.

Kate flashes me a fake smile and rushes off, clearly stressed. I don’t know why anyone would volunteer to run the PTA spring party.

I learned that the hard way, after I ran it last year when my son, Jack, was in kindergarten. It rained, volunteers went AWOL, barely anyone came and we hardly made any money despite the weeks I spent working on it.

The worst part was that other parents complained about the job I did, and that it was my fault the party didn’t make money. Yes, I caused the rain.

I might’ve lost my temper at the next PTA meeting. It’s possible I yelled at the top of my lungs that I would never do any PTA stuff again during that meeting, and then I stormed out in tears.

Yet here I am, helping out again.

By myself, apparently. This Hunter mother has yet to show, and the party just started.

Squeals get louder and louder as the party fills up with children. Naturally this year is a beautiful, sunny day.

In an instant, twenty kids are lined up at my table, all excited to get on the bouncy castle.

And there’s still no sign of Hunter.

I smile and take the money as fast as I can.

“Mom!” Jack exclaims, pushing his money at me. His sandy brown hair is disheveled, and I try to smooth it with my fingers.

“Hi, sweetie, are you having fun?”

“This is the best spring party ever!”

“Better than the one I organized?”

He quirks an eyebrow at me and shrugs. “It’s sunny.”

“Yes, you’re right. Now go to the bouncy castle lineup, there are lots of people behind you waiting to pay.” And no sign of Hunter to help me.

Jack and his friend Mason move across to wait their turn. I frown, wishing he would play more with my friend Kate son’s Tyler. Tyler’s such a sweet boy. Especially compared to Mason.

I continue taking money and directing kids to the lineup.

“Sorry I’m late,” a man’s deep voice says.

I look up from what I’m doing. A man is standing beside my chair. He’s tall, and my chair is so low to the ground that he seems like a giant standing next to me. The sun is on his back, creating a glow around his body.

His muscles pull his T-shirt taut across his chest, and his bare arms are thick. I drag my eyes up his body, squinting from the sun.

He’s smiling, and it beams brighter than the sun. His light brown hair is somehow perfectly coiffed but also effortless looking.

This is Hunter?

His bright blue eyes wander over me, and heat pools between my legs.

Without a doubt he’s the best looking person who has ever graced a PTA event. In fact, I’d say he’s easily the best looking man I’ve ever seen in the flesh.

My earlier anger and frustration of him being late vanishes into thin air.

All I can do is look at him.

“What do I have to do?” he asks. His voice is rich, and mesmerizing.

I swallow hard to clear the lump in my throat, but I still can’t form words. As I clear my throat again, I point to the little chair beside me.

As soon as I gestured to it, I wonder how Hunter can sit on it. I feel like a giant sitting here, and he’s easily twice my size.

He furrows his brow, and shrugs.

Still unable to speak, I watch wide-eyed as he moves behind the little table, before sitting on the baby chair.

Miraculously, the chair legs don’t collapse.

He tries to get closer to the table, which causes our legs to touch. A thousand bolts of electricity blasts through me at the contact. Hunter adjusts his leg so that we are no longer touching, and it takes all my willpower not to move my leg back against his.

There’s only an inch between us, close enough for me to be in his electric field.

“I want to go on the bouncy castle!” a boy cries, snapping me back to my task.

Somehow, I’d forgotten all about the children, the bouncy castle and the PTA.

“Here you go,” I say, exchanging his money for the token.

“That’s all we do?” Hunter asks.

“Yep. This is the easy stall,” I say, glancing over at him.

Our eyes connect, sending fresh current of electricity through my body.

“That’s good, I’m glad it wasn’t too bad for you to be here by yourself.”

“Attention everyone, the magic show is about to begin,” Kate’s voice booms out over the loudspeaker. Children squeal and cheer, and run en masse to watch the show.

Suddenly the lineup is gone, and there isn’t a child in sight.

It’s just Hunter and me, alone, in a tucked-away corner of the playground.

“Are you new at the school? I don’t remember seeing you before. By the way, I’m Penny.”

“Yeah, my son just started a couple of weeks ago. He’s in grade one.”

“I have a son in first grade,” I say, when what I really want to ask is if he’s married. Not that I’d ever have a chance with a god like him.

“Cool, we should set up a playdate with them. My son’s having a hard time fitting in. He’s made a couple of friends, but this one kid has been bullying him.”

“That’s terrible. We’ll definitely have to have a playdate,” I pause before adding “Does your wife arrange them?”

Hunter shakes his head slowly. “No, she died when Harry was a baby.”

My face falls. As much as hearing he’s single excites me, it’s so sad to hear about a child without a mother.

“Sorry,” I say.

Hunter presses his lips tight together, and shrugs.

“Harry didn’t want to come today, because of the bully. That’s why I was late. I had to convince him to come, and reassure him that he’d have fun. I don’t want him to miss out on things because of a bully.”

“You should report the bully to the school.”

“That’s my next step, Penny. I was hoping it was just a one-week pick-on-the-new-kid issue, but this is the end of the second week.”

“Well, if there’s anything I can do, let me know.”

“Do you know all the kids in first grade? Maybe you know if the bully has a history of this sort of thing.”

“Maybe. Who is it?” I ask.

“His name is Jack,” Hunter says, spitting out the name.

My eyes flare. There is only one Jack in first grade, and he’s my son.