Chapter 17 - The Job He Came to Do
After Josie stepped offstage, Nate met her behind the curtain with the water bottle she'd forgotten on her chair.
"I messed up," she said before he could speak.
"You stopped. Then you started again."
"I forgot a whole sentence."
"I heard. I also heard you finish."
She took a drink and looked past him at the other children. "Were you embarrassed?"
"Not even a little."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
She leaned into him for the shortest possible hug, then ran to Maeve. Their shoulders bumped as they giggled over a misplaced line in the poem.
The book tables opened after the second performance. Rain had kept some families away, and the fundraiser brought in less than Meredith had hoped. But several parents who had worked late arrived for the final half hour, including Maeve's grandmother in a hospital badge and a father wearing paint-splattered work pants. Children found books they could keep for a dollar.
Nate carried one crate to the storage room, then stopped himself before volunteering for four more. Mr. Flores was already making an orderly stack. Other adults could finish.
Meredith appeared with a clipboard. "We're short of our donation goal."
"How short?"
"Enough to be annoying. Not enough to sink the program."
"We can put out a note next week. No pressure on families."
"Agreed." She studied his face. "You're not going to suggest a new system?"
"Not tonight."
She smiled faintly. "Thank you for helping. And for not taking over."
"Thank you for letting me be one of the parents."
Meredith looked toward the stage. "I owe you an apology for pickup day. I made assumptions because I saw you standing there every afternoon. I was careless with a person's life I didn't know."
"And I turned your fundraiser into a contest. I'm sorry for that."
"I might still get bossy next year."
"I figured."
As families filed out, Ms. Patel stopped to thank the volunteers and told them the school would review event timing before planning next fall. There was no official proclamation, no applause for Nate, no revelation that transformed anyone into a better human being on the spot.
There were wet coats, lost mittens, stacks of books, and a tired little girl who wanted pancakes for dinner.
In the car, Josie asked whether Dad could come to her school tomorrow too.
"Tomorrow's Saturday," Nate said.
"I know. I just want you to know you can take a break."
He laughed quietly. Then she added, "You don't have to be good at everybody else's stuff to be good at mine."
Nate drove home with one hand on the wheel and the other resting near hers on the console.
At nine, Martin's message waited on his phone: Supplier solved. No need to call. Appreciate you holding your hours.
May you like
Nate read it once and put the phone down. For a long time, he sat with the thought that the whole operation had continued without him.
