Work Text:
Fruitcake
What in the world am I gonna do with a fruitcake?
It’s made of all those squishy things that I will never eat.
I wish there was a special place for fruitcakes,
and the “Fruitcakes” that send fruitcake to me.
It all started the day after her school’s Winter Concert. Although it wasn’t something that Erika, as a second-grade teacher, had to attend, she always did because the kids really loved seeing teachers there. Besides, the kids’ performances, whether it was the band, orchestra or choirs, might not have been professional quality, but they were always so proud of their accomplishments, and she wanted them to know that she was too.
After the concert, there was a small reception and she had just finished speaking with one of her students and her parents, when a man approached, that she recognized as another one of her student’s father. He was dressed in a fancy looking suit and a smarmy expression. He might have been attractive if he didn’t look like every other self-absorbed Silicon Valley wannabe, she couldn’t help thinking. He was carrying two plates with cookies.
“You look like you could use some holiday cheer.” He handed her the plate and not having a clue what to do, she took it.
“Thank you,” she said, as she balanced the plate in one hand and shook his outstretched hand with the other. “You’re Lily’s dad, right? She’s such a sweet girl.”
“Yeah, she is.” He didn’t even glance over to where his daughter was sitting with her friends from choir. “You look gorgeous tonight. No one would believe that you were just a second-grade teacher.’
She looked down at her simple black pencil skirt and red sweater. “Really? What is a second-grade teacher supposed to look like?”
‘Sweetheart, you don’t look like any teacher I ever knew, in any grade.” He was raking his eyes over her, and she was suddenly very uncomfortable. ‘So, I’ve got a nanny waiting back home to take care of Lily, what do you say I drop her off, come pick you up, and take you somewhere to get a real cup of cheer, or two?’
Erika made a show of looking around the room. “Is your wife here tonight? I don’t seem to see her anywhere.”
For a brief second, she saw something like surprise flash across the man’s face, but it was just as quickly replaced by the smug smile he had before. “She’s out of town on business. Won’t be back for a few days. So how about that drink?”
“Umm…Excuse me, Ms. Rossi? She felt a hand tugging on her sweater. Glancing behind her, she found Cassie Lang, a fourth grader, who was in the classroom next to her’s when she was in second grade.
“Oh, hello Cassie,” she replied in her best teacher voice. “It’s good to see you. The Orchestra was excellent tonight. I heard very few squeaks.”
The little girl giggled. “I think you have to say that because you’re a teacher. We squeaked our way through the entire Dreidel song. I feel like we should apologize to anyone who celebrates Hanukkah. Anyway, I was hoping you might like to come see my Cello?”
It was a strange request, but she looked between the man and Cassie and smiled. “Sorry. I should be going. It was nice to meet you again, and please, tell your wife I said Merry Christmas.” She handed him back the plate of cookies. “Thanks for these, but I bet Lily would enjoy them more. I’m really more of a fruitcake girl myself.” She turned to Cassie and walked away, not bothering to look back.
Cassie took Erika to see her Cello, then everyone wanted to show her their instruments, too. She finally got away when Cassie’s dad got her attention and motioned to her that it was time to go. He was a handsome man, tall with black hair and just a little bit of stubble on his baby face. She remembered when he was released from prison when Cassie was in second grade, but she’d heard nothing but glowing stories since then in the gossip that teachers passed around. He was always at the school for events, and they’d even met on a few occasions. Cassie adored him, and the fact that he was standing with Cassie’s mother and stepfather comfortably, spoke volumes.
She waved to all three of them before saying her goodbyes to the kids and walking out to the teacher’s parking lot with co-workers, on the off chance that Lily’s dad was hanging around.
**********
The next morning, she walked into her classroom after grabbing a quick coffee and found a festive bag sitting on her desk. When none of the kids already in the classroom admitted to leaving it, she opened the card curiously.
I heard you liked these. Enjoy.
There was no signature, and she didn’t recognize the writing. She peeked into the bag and found a small rectangular fruitcake. Surprisingly, in all her years of teaching, she’d never been gifted a fruitcake. Deciding that it was probably a gag gift from a fellow teacher, she set it aside and called her class to attention.
The very next day, there was another bag that contained a different brand of fruitcake. This time, the note questioned why she liked fruitcake so much, since it was full of all sorts of fruits that weren’t supposed to be squishy.
Erika briefly considered that this was Lily’s father’s doing, since she’d told him that she preferred fruitcake to cookies at the concert, but she was pretty sure that a man like that wouldn’t try to impress a girl with cake stuffed full of candied fruit and sometimes soaked in brandy.
So, it went on, the rest of the week and the following week. Each day a different brand of fruitcake appeared, accompanied by increasingly comical notes about fruitcake and why anyone would possibly want to eat it. Her students caught onto what was going on, and after letting the parents know of her plan, she brought a couple of the non-alcoholic cakes back in from the stack that was forming in her refrigerator and shared them with the class. Their opinions ranged from liking it, to thinking that someone who would give you all of those fruitcakes must really hate you. If she were being honest, she wasn’t too sure what to believe either, but she started looking forward to the creative little notes that came along with them.
On the last day of school before Winter Break, she happened to come to class a little earlier than usual, to get a jumpstart on the festivities of the day. After making an early run to the teachers’ lounge for coffee, she walked back into her classroom just in time to find Cassie Lang placing a bag on her desk. Cassie jumped when she turned to leave and saw Erika standing by the door.
“I can explain Ms. Rossi,” she started saying quickly. “I just came in to say hello and wish you a Merry Christmas, and I saw the bag sitting there. I guess I got nosey.”
Erika looked at her and smiled. “Are you sure that’s what happened, Cassie? It looked to me like you were putting it there.”
“I’m so busted,” she pouted. “I wasn’t trying to play a trick on you or anything, I was just helping out my dad.”
Glancing at the clock, she saw that she had a few more minutes before her students would start to arrive, so she motioned for Cassie to sit in the chair next to her desk. “Your father had you sneaking fruitcake in to me? Why?”
“Well, I heard you tell that creep at the concert that you preferred fruitcake to cookies, and when I told my dad, he thought it would be funny. He’s got a pretty big crush on you. He gets all googly eyed when he sees you at school. It’s kind of cute, until I remember that it’s my dad. Then it’s kind of gross.”
Erika had to hold back her laughter and try to keep her well-practiced teacher face. “First of all, you shouldn’t speak badly about another student’s parent. Think of how much it would hurt that student’s feelings if bad rumors were spread about their mom or dad.”
“You’re right,” she nodded. “People weren’t really kind when my dad got out of prison two years ago, and he was only there for trying to help people. I won’t repeat what I said to anyone, I promise.”
“Second, does your dad or your mom pick you up today?”
“My dad. He always gets me on Fridays and takes me to dance class.”
“Good. Would you please let him know that I would like to speak with him before you leave?”
“Uh oh. You’re not going to get him in trouble, are you? He’s done so many good things since getting out of prison, and he really likes his job at Stark Industries.”
“I don’t think there’s any rules against leaving a yummy cake made with fruits and nuts for another person. He won’t get in trouble, I promise.”
“Good. Just one more thing? Do you have to mention that I told you that he has a crush on you?”
**********
After the last student left, Erika began the process of preparing her classroom for Winter Break. She’d just finished stacking the last chair when the door opened and Cassie’s father stood there, looking down at the ground.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve had to stay after school for detention,” he said sheepishly.
“Mr. Lang, please come in. Where’s Cassie?”
“It’s Scott, and Cassie decided to go to the library, rather than watch her father get yelled at.”
She held up today’s fruitcake offering. “Would you care to explain, Mr. Lang…err…Scott?”
“Well, I wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas?”
“You could have done that with one fruitcake and your name.”
“True. I could have.”
“You also could have come to talk to me. I’ve seen you a few times in the past few weeks when you came to get Cassie, and I saw you at the concert last week.”
“I didn’t want to come off as some kind of jackass,” he shrugged. “That’s why I sent Cassie over to help you out at the concert. I didn’t wanna come over and look like some overbearing jerk. You already had that guy who gave you the cookies, doing that.”
“How did you know I wasn’t enjoying his attention?” She’d suspected after Cassie’s comments earlier that was why she came over but was glad to have confirmation.
He rubbed his hand over his face. “I’ve seen what you look like when you’re happy, and that looked more like you wanted to punch him in the face.” When he saw the surprised look on her face, he began trying to explain himself quickly. “You come to most of the school events, even though I’m pretty sure you don’t have to, and you never look bored or unhappy. I know what your happy face looks like, and that wasn’t it. That’s why I suggested Cassie go talk to you. We’ve only met a few times, and I didn’t want to come off as some Neanderthal.”
“Well, you’re right. That guy was a jackass. Thanks for the save, I guess. None of this explains the fruitcakes, though.”
“You mean Cassie didn’t tell you that part?”
Erika couldn’t hide her smile. “Well, I know she told you that I said I liked it, then there was some discussion about googly eyes.”
“Oh man. Way to make me look like an idiot, Cass,” he grumbled, but there was no actual anger behind his words. “Okay, so maybe I wanted to get to know you better, and went about it in a strange way. You can ask my ex-wife. I’m horrible at this stuff.”
“So, you were hoping that since cheap pick-up lines and cookies didn’t work for that other guy, fruitcake might work for you?”
“Something like that. Any chance it did?”
She gave him her best stern teacher look. “I don’t date my student’s parents, Scott.”
“It’s a good thing that Cassie isn’t one of your students, then, huh?”
“Well, that’s a great point.”
“So, out of curiosity, what are my chances if I ask you out?”
“Better than average, I think,” she shrugged.
“Oh, that’s promising.” He gave her a big smile. “How about coffee sometime? Or dinner? I have Cass starting tomorrow for Christmas, so maybe next week?”
“I’m flying out Sunday to visit my parents for the holidays.”
“Ahh. What about tonight then? After I drop Cass off at dance, I was just gonna eat a pizza and watch Christmas movies. We could go somewhere for dinner instead.”
“Sure, but you have to promise to stop with the fruitcake. It’s true that I do like it, but I don’t really need a stack in my refrigerator.”
“How can you eat that stuff? It’s squishy and weird and contains things that just aren’t supposed to be soft.”
“Oh, now that you’ve said that I’m going to make you come to my apartment when I get back and try every single one of them. Fruitcake is wonderful.”
“Wow, we haven’t even gone on a date, and I’m already getting an invite to your place. I guess I’m better at this stuff than I thought,” he winked at her.
“Uh huh. You are a fruitcake, Scott Lang.” She picked up her bags and started packing up.
“Well, you might be onto something. I’m a little nutty, squishy, and I certainly contain parts that aren’t supposed to be soft.”
She looked him over and smiled coyly. “I don’t see any.” Before he could respond, something occurred to her. “By the way, Cassie mentioned that you work for Stark Industries. I don’t suppose you ever get to hang out with the Avengers, do you?”
He gave her a curious look. “I’ve met them.”
“Any chance you can get Captain America or Iron Man to show up at our next school fundraiser? Oh! Ant-Man would be better, since he’s kind of our local hero.”
Scott burst out laughing so hard that it took him a moment to regain his composure. When he did, he just looked at her and started laughing again. “I think I can get Cap to come. He sort of owes me a favor because of something I helped him out with last year. Ant-Man? That guy is awesome. Probably one of the coolest people ever. I’m sure he’d love to come.”
“I wouldn’t have pegged you as a fanboy, Scott Lang.”
“Well, I can’t help it. Ant-Man’s awesome. Of course, I might not want him to come. He’d probably just try to flirt with you all night.”
“Somehow I doubt that. He’s probably much too busy saving the world.”
“Nah, I bet you’re just his type,” he chuckled. “Anyway, let’s get out of here. I’ll drop Cass off and give you a call. How do you feel about burgers?”
“I love them,” she said, as he turned out the lights and she shut the door behind them. “Almost as much as fruitcake.”