The Men She Came to Love - Chapter 1

Nichelle woke up to the buzz of her alarm clock at seven o'clock a.m. She laid there for a few minutes thinking about the day ahead of her; another day with a bunch of seven-year-olds at Northwidge Elementary School. Although, she couldn't complain. Her kids were all very well behaved, with a few class clowns that made her laugh when they saw she really needed it. She loved her class and would miss them next year.

She finally threw the covers back, sucking in a breath as the cool, crisp air shocked her body. She looked over and saw she had forgotten to shut the window again. She often liked to leave the window open in the evenings to "air out" the house, but usually forgot to close it before drifting off to sleep.

She sauntered into the bathroom and turned on the hot water. Then, she quickly stripped, switched on the shower, and let the warm liquid flow over her body. She sighed as the water massaged her aching muscles. Her workout yesterday had done a number on her muscles. She squeezed some shampoo into the palm of her hand and lathered it into her long, honey-brown waves, then, rinsed and washed her body before turning the shower off and climbing out.

She slipped into her baby-yellow robe and walked over in front of the mirror. She gazed into her own hunter-green eyes for a second before snatching a brush off the counter and yanking out the knots.

By eight o'clock she was ready, clad in a pair of tan dress pants and a blouse that matched her eyes to a tee.

She took her time as she drove the five minutes to school. She parked in her usual spot, grabbed her bag, and got out of the car. She walked into the school, checked her office mailbox, and headed for her classroom.

Sitting down at her desk, she took out her planner and paged through until she reached October 24th. Then, she scanned over her notes and quickly rumaged through her piles of papers to get all the necessary worksheets ready for handing out.

At eight thirty, Terry Russel, one of her class clowns, walked into the classroom. Terry was one of the more obnoxious clowns in her class. She greeted him kindly as he stuffed his bookbag and jacket into his cubby.

By quarter of nine, all of her students had arrived...except one.

"What's your excuse this time, Timothy?" she asked firmly.

"Sorry, Miss Lopez, Stacy wouldn't get out of bed again."

"It's always Stacy's fault, isn't it? Well, no matter, sit down."

Timothy quickly removed his bookbag and took his seat. Then, looked at her and smiled widely.

"What are you smiling about, Timothy?" she asked curiously, but trying to sound annoyed.

"Did I mention that you look beautiful today, Miss Lopez?"

The class burst into laughter. Nichelle suppressed a laugh, but didn't manage to keep her face straight. "No, you failed to mention that in the two minutes you've been here, but thank you for the compliment."

The rest of the day consisted of confusing looks and more of Timothy's amusing remarks.

"Miss Lopez, where do babies come from?", "Are you an angel, Miss Lopez?", "Do you have a boyfriend, Miss Lopez, because if you don't, I'll take the job." to mention a few.

As the class left for lunch, Nichelle called Timothy back to her desk.

"Yes, Miss Lopez?"

"Is your father coming in for our conference?"

"I think so."

"Ok, thank you, Timothy."

Timothy walked out of the room and off to lunch to join his many friends.

When three-thiry rolled around, Nichelle said good-bye to the class as they stampeded out of the room. Timothy was the only one left as he waited for his father to come for the conference.

At four o'clock, someone knocked on the door. Nichelle looked up and saw a handsome, dark-haired man with charcoal eyes standing outside the door.

"Come in," she said, trying to keep her voice as calm as she could. She hadn't expected a gorgeous man with bedroom eyes to walk into the room.

The man held his hand out; she accepted it.

"Hi," he said, "I'm James O'Bryan, Tim's dad. Sorry, I'm late, traffic was murder."

Nichelle smiled, "Nice to meet you. I'm Nichelle Lopez, Timothy's teacher."

"So, what's all this about? Is Tim misbehaving? Is his grades bad? What? What is it?"

"Timothy's behavior is fine. Although, he is quite the popular class clown. His only problem is in reading. He's having a lot of trouble reading. Does he read at all at home?"

James looked bewildered and didn't say anything.

"Dad wouldn't know if I read books or not because he's never home," Timothy said out of nowhere.

Nichelle looked at Timothy, then back at James, whom had his head down slightly, ashamed.

"Who watches you at home if you father isn't there? You aren't left alone are you?" she asked concerned.

"Oh, no, I would never leave Tim alone. He's with his baby-sitter, Stacy."

"Stacy? How old is she?"

"She's eighteen, why?"

Nichelle nodded, "Ok, now, I understand."

"Understand what?" James asked sounding a bit annoyed.

"Mr. O'Bryan, do you know that Timothy is late at least three times a week because Stacy refuses to get out of bed and take him to school?"

James looked shocked, "Uh...no."

"Well, he is. If fact, he was late this morning. So, either I suggest you get a new, more responsible, baby-sitter, or you start spending some time with your son," Nichelle said firmly. "Here are some books I would like Timothy to practice reading at home with an adult." She handed him a small stack of books, then said politely, "Thank you for coming, Mr. O'Bryan."

James looked furious, but, for some reason, decided to keep his mouth shut. All he said was, "C'mon, Timothy."

Timothy got up, then asked, "Am I going to be stuck with Stacy again?"

James gave Timothy a stern look.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'" said Timothy gloomily and sulked out of the room.

Nichelle stood up, "Actually, if you don't mind, I would like to take Timothy tonight. I'm not too busy and I think he needs to spend a little time away from this Stacy girl, anyway." She walked up to Timothy and put her arm around his shoulder, "I think he and I will have a great time."

"Oh, that isn't necessary."

"O, I think it is, Mr. O'Bryan."

"Look, Miss Lopez, I don't appreciate you telling me how to raise my son."

"I'm not telling you how to raise Timothy, I'm just saying that I've noticed that Timothy has a very strong dislike for spending time with Stacy."

"Fine, but you volunteered, don't think you're getting paid."

"That's fine, I think I can manage."

James stormed out of the classroom muttering under his breathleaving Nichelle and Timothy along and in silence. After a long, akward moment, Timothy broke the silence.

"So, what are we gonna do, Miss Lopez?" he asked enthusiastically.

Nichelle looked down at him and smiled. "Well, let me think," she said, pretending to concentrate for a moment, "how 'bout we have a quick supper at Micky D's. Then, we could go to the park until our noses fall off. And then, we could go back to my house and have hot chocolate.

Timothy's eyes lit up and a huge smile filled his face. "That sounds great, let's go!" he said and headed for the door.

"Hold on." Tim stopped. "I still have to get some things together to take home,a dn you have to get your coat and book bag," Nichelle told him.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot," he said and ran over to the cubby hole and grabbed his coat and book bag.

Nichele gather some tests she needed to grade, then, helped Timothy into his coat.

"Ready?" she sked.

"Ready," he replied.

The two of them walked out of the classroom and down the hallway to the lobby.

Once outside, Nichelle unlocked her Blazer, and they both climbed in.

"Seatbelt," she said at once.

"Timothy looked at her as is she was crazy! "I never wear a seatbelt!" he exclaimed.

Nichelle glared at him. "You will in my car," she said firmly.

Timothy decided not to argue (probably in fear that, if he did, they wouldn't do all the fun things she'd said they would) and clipped on his seatbelt. The short drive was pleasant; they made small talk, chatting about school, sports, and the weather.

Nichelle discovered that Timothy like school; his favorite subjects being reading and writing. Timothy told her that he loved basketball and would practice shooting hoops in his driveway after school.

"Why aren't you on the school's basketball team?" she asked him, trying to hide her intense curiosity of the boy's life.

"Dad's never at home to take me anywhere after school, and Stacy doesn't do anything," he said. He lowered his head so Nichelle couldn't see hgis face. When Nichelle was about to say something to comfort him, he continued, "Dad's too busy working most of the time to even notice me."

As Nichelle turned into the McDonald's parking lot, her heart reached out to comfort the child. A strong gut feeling told her that Timothy didn't find comfort in words. It seemed to her that Timothy's parents perhaps said too many false words.

Timothy didn't look up until Nichelle shut off the engine. He had his tears under control. Although his eyes looked unusually moist, there was no sign that any tears had fallen.

Nichelle admired the boy's strength, but, at the same time, pitied him for feeling as if he needed to keep them all in. In this moment, Nichelle unknowingly became attached to her young student.

When all signs of sadness disappeared, he finally looked over at her. He smiled, although it looked forced. She smiled back, pretending she hadn't noticed his "almost-breakdown."

"You hungry?" she asked him cheerfully. He nodded, and they both hopped out of the Blazer.

Timothy ran ahead to open the door. Nichelle giggled when Timothy acted like a hostess at a fancy restaurant.

"Welcome to McDonald's, miss," he said and bowed.

"Thank you, sir," she giggled.

Once inside she and Timothy went to order their food. Timothy ordered a chicken nuggets happy meal and a chocolate milkshake, while Nichelle ordered a shrimp salad and a diet coke.

Nichelle couldn't remember the last time she had so much fun at McDonald's. Timothy told funny jokes that made Nichelle choke on her soda.