Promises to Keep - Ann Tatlock [101]
“You know about him?” My heart speeded up and my knees felt weak.
“Of course. I was the one who told him which desk is yours. Such a nice man. To think he stops by early in the morning to leave you surprises. I wish every child had a family member like your uncle. You’re very lucky, Roz.”
I didn’t know what to say. I looked again at the chocolates, my mind spinning so fast I almost felt dizzy.
“He left something for you in your desk today,” Miss Freemont went on. “It’s Valentine’s Day, you know. You didn’t forget, did you?”
“No.” I held up a paper sack filled with prepackaged dime-store cards. “I brought a card for everyone. One for you too.”
She nodded. “We’ll exchange them at the party this afternoon.”
I turned toward my desk, still trying to understand why my father would give Miss Fremont a box of chocolates.
“Roz?”
I turned back reluctantly. “Yes, Miss Fremont?”
She made a small line of her lips and looked around the room at the kids who were filing in, hanging up coats, putting books into their desks. “I was wondering . . .”
“Yeah, Miss Fremont?”
“Your uncle . . . I noticed he doesn’t wear a wedding ring. But, well, I suppose he’s married?”
The flash of hopefulness in her eyes made my stomach drop. Miss Fremont – sixth-grade teacher, stern-faced spinster, the butt of her students’ jokes – had a crush on my father. I wanted to run from the room, screaming. Instead, I forced myself to stay, to swallow the bile at the back of my throat, and to whisper, “Yeah, he’s married. But he works construction, so he doesn’t like to wear his wedding ring.”
The hope slipped off Miss Fremont’s narrow face like drooping wallpaper. She tried to smile, but her trembling lips failed her. “Of course,” she said quietly.
As though I felt the need to drive the knife deeper still, I added, “And he’s got kids.”
She sucked in her cheeks and lifted her pointed chin. “I wasn’t aware of any Knutsons in this school.”
“They’re too young for school,” I lied.
“I see. Well, you may take your seat, Roz.”
She pushed the box of chocolates to the far edge of the desk as I moved away. I hung up my coat on the rack at the back of the classroom and took my seat. Slowly I lifted the lid of my desk to see what Daddy had left inside.
There, amid the pencils, erasers, and discarded gum wrappers I found another bouquet of Sugar Daddies, tied together with a red ribbon. It lay atop a heart-shaped Valentine’s card, my name scrawled across the front in Daddy’s distinctive handwriting. Miss Fremont stood and began to speak, but I wasn’t listening. I opened the card and read.
Dear Roz,
I am giving you all of my love on Valentine’s Day. The time is almost here when we will be together again as a family. Do you know what February 29 is? Leap year day, a lucky day, a day for love. Only two more weeks.
Love,
Daddy
I was so excited I could scarcely sit still all day. Just two more weeks. If Daddy could avoid seeing Mom and Tillie at the boardinghouse in that time, we’d be home free. He’d make his grand entrance back into our lives on February 29, and then we’d be a family again. On top of that, I wouldn’t have to keep my secret anymore. Letting go of the secret would be like letting out my breath after holding it beyond all human endurance.
After school I went to the public library hoping Mara would be there. She’d left school before lunch because of a dentist appointment, and I hadn’t seen her all day. I was eager to tell her the news. I scurried from table to table until I found her. Happy and relieved, I dropped my books and reached into my coat pocket for Daddy’s note.
“Look, Mara.”
“What’s that?”
“Read it.”
She did. When she finished, she raised her head slowly and looked at me. I pulled out a chair and sat down across the table from her.
“Daddy’s coming home,” I whispered.
“I see that.”
“Well? Aren’t you happy for me?”
She stared at me a long while, her jaw working as though she were chewing on her words. Then she said, “Yeah.”