The second I step inside, Tate’s voice rings through the room. “Dad!”
Before I can brace myself, he launches out of his seat, sprinting full-speed across the classroom. I barely have time to catch him before he crashes into my arms.
I let out a small grunt as I scoop him up. “Hey, buddy.”
Miss Greta, a redhead with a warm smile, stands from her desk in the corner and heads my way. “Mr. Banks! So glad you could join us today. We’re just wrapping up free time, but we’re about to head out for our daily nature walk.”
“Miss Greta takes us outside every day,” Tate explains, still clinging to me. “She says it’s good for our soils.”
Miss Greta chuckles. “Souls, Tate. It’s good for our souls.”
I smirk and ruffle his hair. “I don’t know, bud. After the week I’ve had, my soil could probably use a walk too.”
Tate laughs, and Miss Greta shakes her head fondly before turning to me. “Miss Pearla is also volunteering today. She’s in the office making copies, but once she’s back, we’ll head out for our walk. But there’s a special surprise today. We’re going on a scavenger hunt.”
The classroom erupts in cheers, and I nod along, still not sure what I’ve signed myself up for. But the moment Tate grins up at me, bouncing on the balls of his feet, I know one thing for sure.
I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.
Pearla returns about five minutes later, a petite woman with sandy-blonde hair and pink-rimmed glasses. She smiles politely as she hands the stack of copies to Miss Greta before turning to me.
“Pearla,” she introduces herself, offering a small but firm handshake.
“Corbin Banks.” I shake her hand, noting the way she studies me for half a second before nodding in recognition.
“You’re Tate’s dad?” she asks, a touch of warmth in her voice. “He’s such a sweet kid. I was really sorry to hear about what happened with Lance.”
I glance around before lowering my voice. “Where is he now?”
Pearla sighs. “He punched another kid today. Got sent to another classroom.”
I let out a humorless chuckle. “Not surprising.”
She nods, crossing her arms. “Yeah. My son, Leo,” she tilts her head toward the sandy-haired boy sitting next to Tate, “had trouble with him, too. Kept getting phone calls about ‘outbursts in class.’ So, I started volunteering once a week. Turns out, Lance was the real problem all along.”
“I knew it,” I mutter, shaking my head.
Pearla smiles knowingly. “Leo looks up to Tate, you know. Says he’s the only kid in class who actually listens to him.”
I glance over at Tate, who’s animatedly talking to Leo, probably about some ridiculous animal fact. It makes my chest tighten in a way I don’t expect.
“Tate looks like you,” Pearla notes after a beat. “Leo looks just like his dad, too. But…” She hesitates, then lets out a small breath. “Roger passed away three years ago.”
The shift in conversation is jarring, but I manage a quiet, “I’m really sorry for your loss.”
Pearla waves it off, though there’s something in her expression that suggests it’s not as easy as she makes it sound. “It’s okay. I just like to get it out there early. That way, when we inevitably get to the whole ‘What does Leo’s dad do for a living?’ conversation, you already know he’s… well, not living.”
Her bluntness catches me off guard, but there’s no bitterness behind it. Just a quiet, resigned honesty.
I nod. “That’s fair.”
Miss Greta claps her hands together. “Alright, class! Let’s line up for our nature walk.”
The kids eagerly jump up from their seats, Leo and Tate leading the pack. Pearla watches her son with something like quiet pride before turning back to me.
“So, Corbin,” she says with a teasing glint in her eye. “You ready for the chaos that is twenty first graders on a scavenger hunt?”
I chuckle, glancing at Tate, then back at her. “Guess we’re about to find out.”
