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Cosima never thought she’d end up here.
Her room is decorated with brightly colored double helixes and animals of all shapes and sizes. Origami butterflies soar around the room and the open window lets a breeze drift through the windchimes dangling in the corners.
The old grandfather clock that her father gave her as a gift for getting her degree stands by the door like a sentry, russet oak wood glossy in the sunlight. Its face reads 7:21 and Cosima knows she only has a short amount of quiet left before life floods in and her day begins.
There’s a soft knock on her door and before she can answer it a head pops in, french braid dangling in the air over her shoulder.
“You ready for the first day?” Jennifer Fitzsimmons is her neighbor in room 325 and oftentimes they spend their days after school ends together. Her smiles are brighter than the light that filters through the windows, and Cosima always appreciates her company and sunny personality.
“Always,” Cosima grins, “I have a good feeling about this year.”
“Did you check the roster yet?” Without invitation―because she doesn’t need it―Jennifer slinks into the room and makes herself at home in one of the little seats, gigantically disproportionate for even her lithe form. “I’m pretty sure you got Duncan’s kid.”
Cosima pulls a face at that and Jennifer laughs gleefully.
Rachel Duncan’s father, Ethan, is the headmaster of the school, and Rachel was known to be infamously difficult during the PTA meetings, even before she even had a child enrolled in the school.
“I don’t think anyone could be as difficult as Rachel,” Cosima reasons, more of a silent prayer to the universe, “I bet Charlotte will be an angel.” Jennifer just shrugs and makes a grab for one of the candies on Cosima’s desk, and the two of them chat idly for a while.
Jennifer leaves right before the parents start to come in, hands gripped tightly on their children’s shoulders, still not quite sure whether or not they’re ready for this separation. Cosima’s heart constricts at the obvious love shining in their eyes, in their smiles, in the way they tightly hug their children before they leave.
She greets them all individually, shakes their hands and reassures them that their kid will be completely safe in her capable care. She’s cpr certified, the nurse is only a few doors down, all the scissors are safety, and, yes, ma’am, this is a peanut treenut free room .
Rachel Duncan walks into the room, nose crinkled slightly in distaste―as it always is whenever she and Cosima interact, she’s never quite had the soft spot for her like she has for Jennifer―with a little girl in tow, twin braids running down her shoulders and to her waist.
“Ms. Niehaus.” Her greeting is clipped, tight, professional, and Cosima smiles brightly at her.
“Hello, Ms. Duncan,” Cosima responds, before stooping down to the level of the little girl, who peers up at her curiously, shyly, hand gripping at her mother’s skirt, “hi there, I’m your teacher, Miss Niehaus.”
“Charlotte,” the little girl offers with a tentative look up at her mother, who nods. At the movement, she blossoms. “Is it true you almost blew up the science lab, once?” Rachel’s eyes are glinting with humor and Charlotte’s eyes are wide with wonder and Cosima can’t help but laugh, grin wide.
“That’s a story for another time,” she brushes off with a wink, “why don’t you go find a seat?” Charlotte hesitates a moment to hug her mother before making her way over to the tables, brace glinting in the sunlight.
“You’ll make sure the other children treat her fairly,” Rachel tells her, and Cosima frowns, offended.
“Of course, Rachel. I have a no-bullying policy that I take very seriously.” Rachel looks her up and down as though weighing her words, and then nods.
“I’ll see you promptly at two forty-five, Ms. Niehaus.”
She leaves as quickly as she came and Cosima goes to check her roster. From Bell, Maya to Yasin, Aisha, all of her students are accounted for bar one. With a look at the grandfather clock by the door, Cosima frowns.
Class is almost scheduled to start, and she’s never started a year without all of her students.
A minute before the bell rings, a woman materializes at the door, daughter in tow, moving so quickly that she almost barrels into Cosima.
Cosima has half a mind to scold her―forgetting, for a moment, that she’s not allowed to scold parents, Headmaster Duncan had already told her off several times for forgetting herself―because she could have run into a kid , but all of the anger in her fizzles out and dies the moment Cosima takes a moment to stop and actually look at the woman standing in front of her.
Oh .
She’s breathtaking.
“Sorry,” she apologizes in a breath, still moving quickly, and somewhere in Cosima’s frozen, sputtering mind the thought registers: British. She kneels down, inspecting her daughter, who looks eager to enter the room, bouncing up and down on her feet.
“You be good, okay monkey?”
“ Yes , mum,” she answers, exasperated, and Cosima smiles at the same moment that the woman rolls her eyes and ruffles her daughter’s curly hair.
“Kira Manning, I assume?” She nods vigorously. “Go find a seat, I’ll take to your mom for a sec.” Kira skips in just as the bell signalling the beginning of the day rings, and then it’s just Cosima and her mother, staring at one another.
“Sorry, again,” she apologizes, “my brother’s painting caught fire this morning and we were running late.” She shrugs sheepishly and Cosima finds herself thinking the movement rather adorable. “I’m Sarah, by the way.”
“Cosima.”
Sarah reaches out her hand for Cosima to shake, and when their skin touches, Cosima feels inexplicably warm . She smiles brightly at Sarah, who looks startled, and thinks, somehow, that Sarah feels it too.
“Well, I’ll leave you to your class,” Sarah says, and Cosima nods, “see you later.” She waves at Kira, sitting at a table with Charlotte and Aisha, and then she leaves, leaving behind only the memory of her warmth.
The kids, as Cosima predicted, are a blessing.
Kira takes an instant liking to Charlotte, and Aisha sticks to Charlotte like a shadow. One of the boys in the class goes to make a sly comment about Charlotte’s brace, but before Cosima can reprimand him Kira is there, frowning at him and telling him he’s being stupid.
Cosima has to tell Kira that they aren’t allowed to call other students stupid ―even if they are acting stupid―but her heart is bursting with pride.
It’s a wonderful first day, as far as first days go.
The next morning finds Cosima back in her room talking with Jennifer about her kids. Jennifer bemoans the loss of the Hendrix twins, who were almost hers before Alison Hendrix insisted they be in the same class as their dear friend Charlotte Duncan.
Kira arrives early, this time with a tall, waifish man at her side, and Cosima tries valiantly to hide the disappointment at the realization that Sarah isn’t there. The man looks her up and down after sparing Jennifer a small smile, appraising her.
“Hm. Now I get it.”
“My mum says you have a nice butt,” Kira says innocently before plopping down next to Jennifer, whose entire face has lit up with unbridled glee . She turns to the other teacher, grabbing one of the sheets of coloring paper. “Can you pass me the purple?”
“Sure, sweetheart.”
Cosima sputters where she stands, unable to form coherent sentences, and the man takes pity on her, patting her consolingly on the shoulder.
“She’s right, you do have a nice bum.” He flashes a set of pearly whites at her, bright and predatory, and Cosima doesn’t feel remotely comforted. A brief downward glance is enough to tell her that Jennifer is having a field day with all of this new information. “Felix Dawkins, I’m Kira’s uncle.”
“Nice to meet you,” Cosima offers weakly, and he laughs vibrantly and clasps her hands in his.
“Oh, darling, you have no idea.”
Uncle Felix leaves as the other students start filtering in, and so does Jennifer―with a pointed look at Cosima that lets her know that they will be discussing the events of the morning later on―and then Cosima is left with her children again, bright, happy little faces staring back at her, eager for another day in the classroom, with the exception of Rudy, who just blows raspberries.
Oscar blows raspberries back at him and Gemma pushes her brother exasperatedly.
It’s amazing, to see all of their personalities.
Charlotte’s so bright, and her fearlessness brings out the best in the others around her, especially Aisha, who is still coming out of her shell, but is so inquisitive and curious and wonderful. Gemma is gentle and sweet and Oscar is bursting with energy and character―he almost reminds her of Felix, in a way.
Kira is so fiercely determined and protective of her friends and Cosima glows with pride when she watches her.
At lunch that day most of the children play tag and Kira stays behind to read with Charlotte, Aisha staying with them.
“That was nice of you,” Cosima comments, after. Kira just shrugs.
“My mum says to be nice.”
The more Cosima hears about Sarah, the more she wants to know her―for curiosity’s sake only , of course, she’s aware of Headmaster Duncan’s solemn disapproval of teacher-parent relationships, not that she was considering one, that’d be ridiculous, she don’t even know Sarah, but for curiosity’s sake―she seems like a wonderful mother, and the sort of person Cosima would get along with well.
“Yeah,” Jennifer snorts when Cosima tells her this later, “ too well.”
Cosima refrains from mentioning how chummy Jennifer is with Rachel Duncan, instead choosing to think about her kids and of Sarah.
She shows up the next morning with Kira and two cups of coffee, handing one to Cosima sheepishly as Kira skips into the room.
“I’m, uh, sorry about what Kira said yesterday,” Sarah starts, scratching the back of her head with her hand, cheeks tinged pink, “Fe told me.” Cosima smiles and accepts the coffee graciously.
“I’m not,” she quips, taking a sip. She relishes the way Sarah’s eyes widen as though she hadn’t considered that possibility. “It was a compliment, after all.” She’s certain her eyes are sparkling with mischief at this point, and Sarah relaxes visibly. “I’m flattered that you found my butt so nice you found it appropriate to discuss in front of a five-year-old.”
Sarah flushes again, the color reaching all the way up to her ears, and Cosima thinks she looks pretty like that.
“Yeah, she’s got a way of sneaking around when I don’t expect it.”
“Well,” Cosima drawls, “if you ever want somewhere you know she won’t be able to hear, you could always ask me out to coffee.” Ok, so maybe not for curiosity’s sake only―Cosima’s always had a weakness for a woman with an accent. She turns on her heel to go entertain the few children in the class, and Sarah startles.
“Are you asking me to ask you on a date?”
“I mean, you were talking about my ass,” she lowers her voice at that part so the kids can’t hear, “when I wasn’t around, so it’s only fair.”
“I’ll see you later!” Sarah calls, and Cosima turns her head and winks.
“Bring flowers, I’m a classy gal!”
Inside, Kira just rolls her eyes.
“Grown-ups are weird ,” she mumbles to Charlotte, who nods sagely.
“Crazy.”