Kiss and Confess (Love Unscripted Book 1) (13 page)

“We’ll do our best to oblige.”

“That’s the spirit.” She lowered her voice. “Just between us, you all don’t appear to be quite crazy enough for them yet, so watch out for whatever that might mean.”

Charley mulled over the woman’s words. “Why are you telling me?”

She lifted a shoulder. “I’d like to see all of you have a chance to make it. A real chance. Not get sidetracked by whatever wrench the show decides to throw in. Just because they think it makes for,” she lifted her fingers in air quotes, “good TV.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

Brooklyn gave Charley’s hand a quick squeeze and moved on to suggest Michael relocate so she could talk with Brittany.

Charley braved a quick look at Luke, sitting two rows ahead of her.
Whatever wrench the show decides to throw in.
Like having one of the producers sleep with a contestant?

A tiny, niggling doubt began beating a tin hammer around the edges of her brain.

“We’re so glad you’re all here,” the Wilson Elementary School’s principal gushed. A round, comfy-looking woman wearing black flats and bright blue glasses, she seemed delighted to have the trappings of a TV show swirling about her school. “This is an important fundraiser for our library and we appreciate you helping us out.” Her head bobbed up and down.

“Parents will begin dropping children off beginning in about fifteen minutes,” she continued. “You should have everything you need right there in the rooms. Just be sure to keep an eye on each child and know what is going on at all times. Ever vigilant!” She stopped to beam at them. “Does anyone have questions before we take you to your assigned rooms?”

The three couples looked at each other and then back at the principal, shaking their heads.

“Terrific,” she enthused. “Let’s get started.”

A parent volunteer led Charley and Marc, trailed by Luke and the camera crew, down a hallway with gleaming vinyl floors that smelled of orange-scented cleaner and gym shoes. The volunteer stopped before a brown door proclaiming the room the home of Ms. Moore’s Miracles, Second Grade. “This is where you’ll be.” She opened the door and stood aside as they walked in.

Small desks were grouped together in the center of the room, each surrounded by small blue plastic chairs with stainless steel legs. Bright blues and greens dominated every wall of the room, from neatly arranged cubbies to the poster board with names of those with class jobs. A large teacher’s desk surveyed it all from the corner.

“Here is your roster,” the volunteer, who wore a nametag that said
Rose,
told them. “It has the names and ages of the kids you’ll be taking care of, along with the parents’ names and their cell numbers. In case of emergency.”

Oh please God, don’t let there be any emergencies.
To Rose and the camera, she said, “Perfect.”

“And we’ve made up nametags you can put on each child. I’d suggest putting it on the back. Can’t peel it off as easy that way and there are a few little firecrackers who will try.” She winked. “I’ll be back periodically to check on you.”

Nametag-peeling firecrackers? This wasn’t looking good.

“We’ll be fine,” Marc assured her. “Not so sure about the kids, but we’ll be good.”

Rose’s sunny expression changed to one of concern. She twisted her long brown hair into a knot and snapped it into submission with a rubber band, never taking her eyes off them.

“He’s kidding,” Charley said, wrapping one hand firmly around his arm. “We will take good care of the children. But if you can come around every so often just to check in, we would appreciate it.” Her hand left Marc’s arm to nudge his side.

“Yes,” he said on cue. “Appreciate it.”

“Good. All right.” Rose nodded uncertainly. “Have fun then.”

“We will,” Charley promised.

When Rose left, Charley turned to Marc. “I don’t think I was anywhere close to being a miracle in second grade,” she confided.

He chortled. “I was more of a menace than a miracle in second grade, but my teacher pretty much expected it. She’d had my brothers and sisters in her class before I got there.”

Charley gave his arm a light squeeze. “But look how well you turned out.” From the corner of her eye, she saw the camera focus in on them. She reached up on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek.
Take that, All Natural Pets. Second Chance will make it without your money.

Marc turned and, cradling her chin with his hand, kissed her on the lips.

Sweet and close to tender. She should have liked it and gone back for more. Instead, she pulled away, giving him a playful pat on the arm. “Our kids are going to be here any minute.”

“Our kids.” He put his index finger against his cheek and looked up, as if pondering the words. “I like the way that sounds.”

She was saved from having to respond to his musings by the sound of the classroom door opening. A harried-looking couple entered, the father holding the hands of identical twin girls and the mother cradling a toddler in her arms.

“Hi,” the mom said, darting shy glances at the camera. She walked to Charley. “This is Johnston. He just turned two.”

“Aww. He’s so cute. Hi, Johnston.” Not so easy to say. That “t” really got in the way. “Does he go by a nickname? Jon?” She would be extra efficient, she decided, and write each child’s nickname on the roster. Ha. The school hadn’t thought of that.

The mother’s forehead frowned, disturbing her neat row of bangs. “No. We call him Johnston. That’s what we named him. Why would we shorten it?”

“Okay. I just thought— Never mind.” Behind her, Marc was making an odd sound. She was pretty sure he was trying not to laugh.

The mom turned to the twins. “This is Alexandra. And Andrea.”

She smiled at the girls, whose eyes grew wide. The mom had dressed them in matching pink outfits. “We had better get nametags on you two right away, so we can tell you apart.”

“It’s not hard, really,” the mom said. “And they’re five years old, so they can tell you.”

Marc handed over the nametags, and the kids’ father, at Marc’s suggestion, put them on the appropriate backs.

The woman set a diaper bag down and held Johnston out to Charley, who placed him on her hip, as she’d seen mothers do. The little boy, apparently possessing the same ability as horses to smell fear, opened his pink mouth and began to roar.

The man released his hold on his daughters to pluck at his wife’s sleeve. “We’d better leave.”

“Yes. Okay.” She hesitated. “But maybe, I don’t know—”

“
Date
night,” he said, taking her arm and steering her toward the door.

Charley sensed they didn’t get too many of those.

“The baby will be fine once we go,” the mother called over her shoulder, sounding less than convinced.

Tears streamed down Johnston’s face as he looked from Charley to his parents and back again, crying with all the energy his small body could muster.

“I’ll take him,” Marc said easily, scooping him from Charley’s arms. “Hey, little man. What’s the problem?” He took a tissue from a box on the teacher’s desk and wiped Johnston’s face. Then he began circling the toddler through the air, dipping and weaving.

The boy stopped crying to look at Marc, apparently trying to decide whether to keep up his protest or change course and have fun. When the latter prevailed, the tears dried up as quickly as they had appeared.

“I thought you said you didn’t know what to do with kids.”

“Distraction,” he answered. “Works every time.”

Charley felt two pairs of eyes boring into her. She dropped to one knee. “Hello, Alexandra and Andrea.”

“Hi,” the girls said as one, turning their shoulders in and smiling shyly.

“I’m pretty sure I saw some coloring books and crayons over here. Should we go see?”

They nodded, each taking one of Charley’s hands. She’d no sooner settled them into coloring than the door opened again.

In strode a woman with kind eyes and behind her, a boy of about eight with ketchup smeared across his face. She nudged him forward. “Hi. My husband’s waiting in the car. This is Will.” She then caught sight of his face and laughed. “Sorry. Drive-through dinner. He eats too fast.” She grabbed a damp wipe from her purse and had him cleaned up with one practiced swipe. “Thanks,” she called as she left.

In the next ten minutes, they’d met—and been charged with caring for—an Audrey, two Bens, a Julio, and a skinny six-year-old with glasses, allergies, and the unlikely name of Tex.

Once another ten minutes had gone by, Tex had sequestered himself in the reading corner with a pile of books and an unwillingness to speak. To anyone. Ben T. and Ben Z., who were in the same fifth grade class at the school and apparently didn’t much like each other, were circling like two undersized gunslingers, waiting for the other to make his move.

Will searched for food. Julio buried himself in a game on his phone. Audrey tried to play school with Alexandra and Andrea, who seemed to have made a silent pact to stare at her open-mouthed instead of running through the lessons Audrey was determined to teach.

Johnston, who had developed a crush on Marc, refused to be put down. Instead, he directed Marc over to his diaper bag, where Johnston reached in and pulled out a ragged bear that he clasped to his chest.

“At least they’re occupied,” Charley said to Marc. “That has to be good.”

“True,” Marc said, before his attention was caught by one Ben giving the other a hard push on the shoulder. “Here.” He thrust Johnston into her arms and made his way across the room.

Johnston took one look at Charley and began to wail inconsolably. She tried cooing at him, but he only cried harder. After a couple of minutes, she wanted to join him. A nasty odor floated up to her nostrils and his diaper took on a warm mushy quality she couldn’t ignore.

She set him on his feet.

His eyes widened and he stopped crying, apparently unable to believe her capable of such behavior. Then he let out an outraged scream.

Will appeared at her side. “I’m hungry,” he said, raising his voice to be heard over Johnston. “
Hungry
,” he repeated, pulling at the hem of Charley’s shirt.

“But you ate right before you came.” Did she know how to change a diaper? Had she ever in her life changed one? She couldn’t think of a single time.

Will sighed loudly.

“I need to take care of Johnston, then I’ll see if I can find you something.” She might have some gum in her purse.

“He stinks.”

“He does.” She was not looking forward to the contents of that diaper.

Both Bens folded their arms across their chests while Marc talked to them. Alexandra and Andrea had decided to skip their way around the room, much to the dismay of Audrey. One of the twins accidentally kicked over Tex’s pile of books and stopped, thumb in her mouth, to survey the wreckage.

“Say you’re sorry and pick up the books…um, Andrea?” Charley called. It was a guess. She couldn’t read the nametag from here.

“That’s Alexandra,” Audrey pronounced, landing with a two-footed hop at Charley’s other side.

“Thank you. Alexandra, please say sorry and pick up the books.” The twin looked at her and then bent down to do as she’d been told. Charley breathed a sigh of relief. One thing had gone right.

“That kid smells,” Audrey said. “Are you going to change him?”

“Yes, I am.” Hopefully, she wouldn’t pass out from it, leaving America to wonder why she had such a weak stomach and Marc had to handle all of these kids on his own. “Do you think you could get that diaper bag for me?” She pointed.

Audrey shrugged and went to retrieve it.

Charley’s eyes sought Marc’s again. There was still time for a reprieve. But he had separated the Bens and moved on to talking with Julio.

Meanwhile, the other twin had skipped by to knock over the books Alexandra had carefully piled back up while Tex watched, wordless. On the next skip by, Tex stuck out his leg, sending Andrea toppling to the rug.

The kid had silent game.

Andrea hoisted herself up and kicked over a second stack of books. Marc left Julio to rush over.

Audrey set the diaper bag on the floor. “He’s going to get diaper rash if you don’t change him.”

There was nothing to do but be brave and go in. She wished the school had provided scrubs and a mask. She looked at Johnston. How could one child give off such a foul odor?

She laid him on the wood teacher’s desk, which had a clear spot in its middle. Will and Audrey followed her, watching. Charley wasn’t looking forward to a critique from Audrey, who knew all about diaper rash, something Charley hadn’t even thought of. On the other hand…

“Do you know how to change a diaper?” she asked the girl.

“Who doesn’t?”

Charley could name one person.

Will sided with Charley. “I don’t.”

Charley reached into the bag and pulled out a disposable diaper, examining the front and the back.

“You have to take off the old one first.” Audrey had a distinct don’t-you-know-anything tone to her voice. Not helpful.

Gingerly, Charley pulled the tabs back on Johnston’s diaper and pulled down the front. Her nostrils recoiled at the sight and smell of the brown contents, mashed across the child’s skin. “Oh God.”