Justin anxiously tapped his pen against the doorframe as the principal's announcement echoed in the empty room. The first bus of the day had arrived. He had checked his list and knew that two of his students would be arriving but knew he still had a good twenty minutes before anyone came to his room. The two students on the early bus would be eating breakfast in the cafeteria. He was grateful for the last-minute respite.

He was a nervous wreck.

What if they didn't like him? Sure, most of them had come by for orientation and had seemed to like him just fine. But that had been different; it had just been for a half hour. Not all day.

What if he couldn't teach them anything? What if the parents decided they didn't like his style of teaching?

He reached to adjust his tie but when his fingers met the unbuttoned collar of his shirt he remembered that he'd chosen against the tie. It would only get in the way. A dangling object plus small children plus leaning over equaled choking.

"You look like you're heading to your own execution," an amused voice commented from across the hall.

Justin looked over and saw Mrs. Newsome standing in her doorway. "It shows, huh?"

"Better put your poker face on. If they see you looking like that they'll walk right over you."

Justin gulped nervously. "I don't know why I'm so nervous. I mean, last year was great. But I wasn't in charge then…"

"And you're worried that you'll make a mistake. Did you have Mrs. Elliott in high school?"

"Homeroom, Study Hall and English," he remembered with a grin. "Junior and senior year."

"She was my favorite teacher in school. The week before my first day as a teacher I saw her in town and she told me something that helped me more than any advice column ever could."

"You're going to share this great wisdom with me, aren't you?" Justin questioned hopefully. Mrs. Elliott had been the best teacher at Thomas Jefferson High School. And probably still was. He made a mental note to drop by one afternoon and visit her after school.

"Don't greet those kids thinking that you'll be the best teacher in the world or even in the school. Don't stand up in front with the idea that twenty years from now they'll remember you or what you told them. Just do the best you know how to do and do it with a smile."

Justin nodded, turning the words over in his head for a moment. "And it worked for you?"

"Every day."

"Thanks." Despite his momentary relaxation he lurched when the bell rang.

"You're jumpier than a cat on a hot tin roof," Mrs. Newsome chuckled before turning back into her classroom.

Sighing, Justin ran a hand over his face and glanced down the hall. Liz Thompson was heading his way, sleeping toddler on her hip and a grinning Zachary at her side. He straightened up and put a smile on his face.

He could do this.

- - -

He couldn't do this.

He watched his next-to-last student go down the hall to line up for the last bus and sagged in the doorway with relief. A headache had formed at lunchtime and despite the Tylenol he had taken it hadn't let up a bit. He turned to look inside the room and saw his last student sitting in her seat, studiously working on the coloring sheet she'd requested. There were a few loose papers on the carpet and he saw that someone had left a jacket behind.

He crossed the room and picked up the loose papers, tucking them into the appropriate desks. The jacket was in a heap next to a cubby and he recognized it as Zachary's. He hung it on the hook after shaking it clean, then moved to drop a few flakes of food into the aquarium. The two goldfish that he'd bought, thinking of all the wonderful moments children could have looking at them, had spent the day hiding behind the fake rock.

"Mr. Timberlake, can I help you please?"

Donna's voice made him look back. About to drop the food into the tank, he pulled his hand back and nodded. "Sure, come on."

"Will Mommy be here soon?" Donna asked as she crossed to the table next to his desk. She pulled out the stepstool and climbed onto it.

Justin glanced at his watch. "Just a couple more minutes," he assured. Heather had mentioned a doctor's appointment that morning and he had promised her it would be okay if she was a few minutes late. "Here, this will hold them overnight."

"Do they have names?"

He shook his head. After setting up the tank with him, Trace had suggested 'Tard and Retard, but that had seemed far from appropriate. "Maybe during circle time tomorrow we can try to think up names for them, okay?"

"Are they boy fish or girl fish?"

"Girl and boy," Justin answered hastily, not wanting to get into a discussion on how to sex fix. "The little one's the boy."

"Oh…" Donna peered into the tank and her lips pursed in frustration when the fish ignored the food floating. "They don't like me."

"They're just nervous. Give them time, they'll always come to greet you," he promised, gently closing the lid and switching the light off. "Did you finish your picture?"

"Almost." She pushed the stool back in its place under the table. She started to skip back to her seat but stopped herself and walked slowly.

Justin grinned, shaking his head. Apparently when he'd warned to walk inside she had listened. His fingers drummed against his desk as he dropped into his chair. There were some papers he needed to file away. And he needed to type up the phone number list to keep by the phone. There were a few papers he had to sign and get back to the office. He also had to get the ice cream money bag from the cafeteria.

"Mr. Timberlake, can you help me?"

Grateful for the distraction he left his seat quickly and walked over to Donna's desk. "What's the problem?"

"I don't know what color hair she has," Donna told him, lightly tapping a white crayon against her paper.

"Well let's see…" Justin trailed, pulling the chair next to her out. Sitting down, he regarded the picture of a woman placing food on a table. It had come from a coloring book about vegetables and fruits, which had been the closest at hand when Donna had asked for a page to color. "What color are her eyes?"

"Brown. Like mine and Mommy's."

"Of course. You could give her yellow hair if you wanted her hair to be like yours. Or you could color it brown or black or red…"

"Brown," she decided, reaching for her school box of crayons. "Like Mommy's."

Justin seriously doubted there was a crayon that could match the shade of Heather's hair. In near darkness it was a luxurious cocoa color; in sunlight several strands picked up the light like fine gold. Even under the harsh fluorescent lights of the school it had shone. "Good idea. You finish that and I'm going to start getting stuff ready for tomorrow."

"Are we having chicken for lunch again tomorrow?"

"Pizza," Justin answered without even looking at the menu.

"Yummy," Donna decided with a grin.

Justin nodded in agreement as he stood. "You've got all your stuff ready?" He knew she did, but he had to double-check.

"My jacket's in my book bag. My coin purse is in the front zipper. My folder is behind my jacket." Donna paused thoughtfully. "I don't have to take my crayons home 'cause I have some at home already."

He knew. After walking her and her mother home the evening before he'd been given a tour of Donna's room and had been amazed at the amount of crayons the girl had. Glitter crayons. Neon crayons. Scented crayons. Crayons that only showed up on black paper. And of course, normal everyday crayons.

He would have liked to have had a tour of Heather's room as well but Donna had been wide awake with no signs of being ready for sleep. The stolen kiss in the kitchen when she had gone to find her pajamas more than made up for it, though. Heather had seemed a bit uneasy about kissing him in front of her daughter and he understood. She had even kept herself at a slight distance during the cookout at his mother's.

He smiled, remembering her sudden nervousness at meeting his mother. He didn't understand that part. It wasn't like his mother was some grand dragon ready to spit fire at any woman her son was interested in. His mother had handled the situation perfectly though. She had been bringing out the dish of chicken that had been marinating overnight and just shoved it at him before taking Heather into the house for a glass of iced tea and a chat.

He still wondered what she had said. Every time his eyes met Heather's for the rest of the afternoon, she had this little smile on her face. He desperately hoped that his mother hadn't found it necessary to tell about his attempt to be Superman. That tale was his mother's favorite and she still had the towel that he had used as a cape and could point out the exact spot in the side yard where he had landed after leaping from his bedroom window.

Oh, God, he had to call and ask. Now.

His phone rang before he could reach for it and he saw Trace's cell number blinking on the display. Tucking the phone between his ear and shoulder he reached for the folder of the week's plans. "Hello."

"You're leaving soon, right?"

There was the crackle of radio transmissions in the background and Justin remembered that Trace was working the evening shift. "In a little while. Waiting on a parent and have to finish tomorrow's copies. Why?"

"When you get out can you take Jen a cherry Slurpee? She's got this major craving and I'm on the other side of the county working on something."

"Yeah, I guess…" Justin trailed, turning to start the copier. "How big?"

"The biggest one they've got. Oh, and those nasty nachos with extra cheese."

"Anything else?" Justin sighed, reaching for a slip of paper and a pencil.

"That was the list the last time she called. Might want to call her and ask, though. Don't call her till you get in the store."

"Right." Jen was the only pregnant woman Justin had ever known that had strange cravings. He had once thought it was an old wives' tale. Until Trace had made him stop off so he could pick up dill pickles, pistachio ice cream and sardines on the way home from fishing. "I'll take care of it."

"Appreciate it. Gotta go, Johnson needs me."

Justin let the phone slip into his lap as he scribbled the reminder before starting the copies of the math worksheet. As the copier groaned and the air conditioner kicked in he heard a soft tapping at the door. "Yeah?"

He looked up and saw Heather. She looked rushed and apologetic as she stepped into the classroom. "Sorry I'm so late," she began, but he waved it off.

"I'm not going anywhere," he promised. He felt a tug when Donna dropped her crayon and rushed to greet her mother in a flurry of kisses and exclamations. The pink book bag was retrieved and crayons were put away as Heather signed the sign out sheet by the door. He tossed his phone onto the desk and walked over to pick up a crayon that had rolled to the floor.

"How was she?" Heather asked softly.

"I have to pee," Donna announced to no one in particular. Justin glanced to watch her hurry to the small bathroom in the back of the class before turning back to Heather.

"She was great. No tears or tantrums."

"She did her work? Did she eat all of her lunch?"

"And ice cream," Justin added with a smile.

"I didn't give her any ice cream money…"

"It was taken care of. Don't worry."

She eyed him for a moment. "I'll pay you back."

"Don't. Everyone had ice cream, it seemed only right. I didn't want her to feel left out. It was just sixty cents. Not like I bought her a Ferrari."

"Wait about twenty years for that," she requested with a resigned sigh. "Thank you."

"Anytime." He noted the band-aid in the crook of her elbow. "How'd the doctor's visit go?"

"Alright I suppose." A haunted look crossed her face but it was gone in an instant. "I hate doctors' offices."

"They're not my idea of a good time." Justin realized he was grinning again. He seemed to do a lot of that when they talked. Clearing his throat, he nodded to the bulletin board behind her. "We had art today."

She turned and he watched the concentration on her face as she scanned the drawings to find Donna's. He already knew without looking which paper belonged to which child. Zachary's drawing was done in green on yellow paper and even Zachary hadn't been able to tell what it was. Melody had drawn a disproportionate puppy, complete with bright purple collar. Donna's drawing puzzled him. It was several ominous black circles above two stick figures. She had softly told him it was her mother before a storm but hadn't said who the other stick figure was. All Justin knew was that it wasn't Donna or anyone in Cedar Grove.

"Oh," Heather breathed, one finger tracing the lopsided D of her daughter's name at the bottom of the paper. "I didn't know… She was… Oh."

Justin felt helpless when he saw tears shimmering in her eyes. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she whispered, blinking rapidly. Justin reached for the box of tissues on the shelf and held them out to her silently, chewing on the inside of his cheek when she took several and turned away to dap her eyes.

"We were talking about Daddies," he told her. He hadn't realized the conversation among the students would turn to fathers. All but Donna had told what their fathers did and when some had looked to her expectantly she had excused herself to the restroom. Knowing that it had to be a touch subject he had handed out blank paper for some quiet coloring time. When Donna had come back she had sat at her desk for several moments before starting to draw.

"Oh," was all Heather said.

The door to the restroom opened and Donna came out. Justin watched her lean onto her tiptoes and stretch to reach the light switch before she moved to wash her hands. Clearing his throat, he tucked the stray crayon into Donna's school box and pushed her chair under the desk.

"Mommy, can we go see Miss Ella?" Donna requested hopefully when she returned to her mother's side.

"Not today. I… There's some clothes at home that need to be put away." Heather slipped the book bag onto Donna's shoulders and Justin realized that she was avoiding his gaze.

"Oh." Donna adjusted her book bag and turned to Justin. "Are you coming for dinner?"

He saw Heather's horrified expression and shook his head sadly. "Not tonight. But we'll go to McDonald's this weekend." Where had that come from? He had plans with Heather Friday night and had been planning on going fishing with Paul and Trace Saturday. "If it's okay with your mother."

"We'll see," Heather murmured. "Tell Mr. Timberlake goodbye."

"Bye," Donna said with a smile. Justin patted her back when she hugged him tightly. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'll be here." He glanced to Heather. She was suddenly very interested in the design of the carpet on the floor. "See you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow." She looked ready to say something else and finally raised her eyes to his. Tears still clung to the corners of her eyes and Justin was overcome with the desire to brush them away. To find out what had upset her so and try to make it better. But she gave him a faint smile and headed for the door. "Bye."

Shit, he thought when they were gone. He could hear Donna's voice excitedly relaying details of her day. He had hoped for some sort of invitation to call her later or at least a hint that she wanted him to.

What had he done?

- - -

"You brought up Donna's father."

Jen's voice was muffled considering she spoke around a mouthful of nachos and had her Slurpee straw between her lips. The dog next to her whined softly for a treat and she held a nacho dipped in cheese out for him. Justin, sprawled on the couch, waited for her to explain.

Jen wiped her fingers on a napkin and swirled her straw in the Slurpee. "I mean it's obviously a touchy subject. Even Lynn couldn't get her to say what happened to the guy. Nobody even knows if they were married or what. But I got the impression they were. Heather just doesn't seem the type to go sleeping around."

"So… I got the cold shoulder because my students brought up their fathers during circle time?" Justin questioned for clarification.

"Yep. Where are the Twizzlers?"

Justin sighed and reached for the bag he'd set on the floor. Handing over the candy he rolled his eyes at the ceiling when she cooed. "What do you think about the drawing?"

"If the other person in the drawing is her father, apparently she doesn't think much of him."

"Or he and Heather liked to go for walks before a storm." Justin raked a hand through his hair.

"Maybe he was a deadbeat. Who knows." Jen set her Slurpee down and a throw pillow landed on Justin's stomach. "Help me get up. I have to go pee."

"Isn't that little mutant you've got brewing ready to come out yet?" Justin teased playfully as he rolled off the couch. Standing in front of the armchair, he held out his hands.

"If I have nightmares about some hideous beast bursting out of me I'm going to kill you," she threatened, using his hands for leverage.

"Oh, come on. If you didn't kill Trace for telling you that the baby was going to come out fully grown and smoking a cigarette, nothing I say can make you madder." Justin held onto her hands until he knew she was steady. "Do you think I should call her?"

"I think you need to move before I piss on myself."

Justin sighed and stepped to the side. Once she had passed him he immediately followed her. "But should I? I mean, it was obvious she was upset. But I don't know if it's at me or at the picture or at something that I don't even know about."

Jen merely shrugged.

"What if she's waiting for me to call? What if she's sitting in her kitchen and keeps looking at the phone?"

"Then call her," Jen suggested. Justin thought he noted a bit of weary irritation in her voice.

"But what if she's not waiting? What if I call and she's in the middle of a rousing game of Hungry, Hungry Hippos and I interrupt it to tell her I'm sorry for something that wasn't my fault and she gets upset again--"

"Justin!" She whirled around, amazingly fast for someone as pregnant as she was, in his opinion, and pushed a hand against his chest.

"What?!"

"You can't follow me into the bathroom," she growled. Justin saw that he had stepped into the bathroom and backed up quickly before she slammed the door shut. "Now. Can I please take a whiz in peace?"

Justin threw up his hands in defeat and stared at the closed door for a brief moment. "Does that mean I should leave you alone and call her?"

"Just go call her! Tell her you're sorry if something you did indirectly upset her! But for God's sake do it away from me!"

"Touchy," he snorted. He turned on his heels and nearly tripped over her dog, who had come to wait patiently for Jen. "I’m just going to call her from the porch!"

"Whatever, have you left yet?"

"Next time Trace calls me to get you your weird-ass pregnant cravings I'm telling him no!" Justin threatened, pulling out his phone as he headed to the front door.

The bathroom door opened suddenly. "Since you're going out, do you mind running to McDonald's and getting me a McFlurry?"