The Back-Up Plan Read Free

the beige walls. Dozens of children scurried past, backpacks and lunch boxes in tow.
    The atmosphere seemed pleasant enough. She hoped the teacher wasn’t going to be an old biddy who had already labeled her child as a troublemaker.
    Donna hadn’t been this nervous since she sutured her first patient. Melissa had told her at the breakfast table this very morning that she loved her teacher. And Patty had recounted numerous times in their phone calls during the last two weeks what a great teacher Melissa had. Surely her own sister couldn’t be that wrong about the woman. There was simply no need to get this worked up. The teacher was probably some little blue-haired lady who had too many children in her classroom and had gotten Melissa mixed up with another child. That had to be it.
    “C’mon, Mommy!” Melissa tugged at her hand. “We’re gonna be late.”
    “Sorry, sweetie.” Donna allowed herself to be pulled down the long corridor a little faster.
    Pencils and chalk. The familiar smell lingered in the air of the large classroom Melissa ushered Donna into. Sunny yellow walls decorated with bright characters and shapes eased her anxiety. She smiled at the trail of ABC’s that meandered around the walls. Melissa joined the group of children at the back of the room who were hanging up backpacks and putting away lunch boxes.
    The teacher was nowhere around. Knowing she would return soon, Donna took the opportunity to have a look around. Shelf after shelf of books lined one corner where a large, well-used rocking chair sat. She ran her fingers over the volumes of children’s stories. Donna selected and opened a Mother Goose book. The scent of the old pages caused her lips to curl into a smile. She loved old books. She could just imagine the children spread out on the floor before the rocker as a matronly teacher read one of the old-as-time stories.
    She tucked the book back into its spot and moved to a work table on the other side of the room. She scanned the artwork only a mother could love for Melissa’s name. Though the work was dry, the essence of finger paint still hung in the air. Textures ranged from thick globs of paint to thin smears. Houses, stick people, and other subjects which she could not readily identify graced the little artists’ pages.
    “May I help you?”
    Donna started at the deep, male voice. The sound reverberated through her, hinting at secret fantasies and making her pulse react. She turned around slowly to face the stranger who had rescued her on that dark country road less than a dozen hours ago.
    A wide smile spread across his face as he recognized her. Heat rushed to her cheeks as she pushed away the vivid images from last night’s dreams. The man was even better looking in the full light of day. His presence seriously diminished the size of the room. He reminded her of one of those big muscular guys who played professional sports.
    And she hated that type, she reminded herself sternly.
    “So, we meet again.” Amusement twinkled in his blue eyes, the bluest she had ever seen. “Since you didn’t leave a glass slipper behind, I figured I’d never see you again.” He closed the distance between them with slow, deliberate steps; using the time to take in every aspect of her. From the top of her pony-tailed head to her loafers and back.
    Did she always have to look her worst at the most inopportune times? “I’m waiting to see my daughter’s teacher, Ms. Bradley.” Donna forced a smile into place. Who is this guy? He could be the principal or a physical education teacher. That had to be it. Jeans, Nike sweatshirt and shoes. Now that she thought about it, he did look like a phys ed teacher. A jock through and through.
    He stuck out his hand. “I’m Hank Bradley.”
    Donna’s mouth dropped open, but no sound came out. No . This man couldn’t possibly be Melissa’s kindergarten teacher.
    “I guess I’m not what you expected.”
    “Excuse me?” Her mind reeling, those two