Page 9 of The Perfect Distraction

“We could start out with a couple times a week for an hour or two if that’s okay with you.”

“Sure. Joey’s been coming with me to the shop or staying with his grandma on the weekdays, so we’ll have to work out the logistics.”

“Your shop?”

“Yeah. My woodworking shop. Well, it’s not just mine. My dad and brother work there too.”

“Is it nearby?”

“Just a few miles up the road.”

“In that case, I could pick Joey up from there, take him to the library, and then drop him back off at your shop. Or if it’s later in the day, he could stay with me until you get home.” Now that Colton appeared to be on board, she found herself getting excited. She’d be doing something that she loved—teaching—and filling her time with something other than crying or punching her pillow. It sounded like the perfect distraction.

“That’d be great. There’s only one problem.”

“What’s that?”

“I can’t guarantee Joey will be as enthusiastic about this as you are.”

That turned out to be the understatement of the year.

“Do we really have to do this?” Joey whined.

It was a Monday morning, and Beth had just picked him up from Colton’s shop. When she’d pulled up, Colton and Joey had come outside to greet her, but she would have liked to see inside. She’d never known a carpenter before, and she was curious to see some more of his handiwork. But when Colton had greeted her, he’d been all business, thanking her for taking Joey and asking her what time she’d be bringing him back.

She’d only had a minute to take in his appearance, which was quite different from how she’d last seen him. Today, he was wearing a black T-shirt that hugged his torso and faded jeans with rips in the knees. But the icing on the cake was the tan construction boots and the leather toolbelt that hung on his narrow hips. His hands and forearms had been covered with sawdust, and a splinter of wood had been sticking up from his close-cropped hair. She’d had to resist the urge to pluck it out, and instead, she’d just stood and stared. He was a clean-cut guy, but today, he looked more dirty than clean, and she kind of liked it.

She hoped she’d answered all his questions intelligently, and when she and Joey drove away, she rolled down the windows to cool off.

“It’ll be fun, Joey. I promise,” she said.

“But the only kids who have summer school are the dumb ones.”

Frowning, she said, “That’s not true, and this isn’t school.”

“Well, it feels like it,” he grumbled.

Luckily, it was a short drive from Colton’s shop to the library, which was located downtown above one of the shops. They went inside, and Joey pointed the way to the children’s section. Once there, she scoured the shelves, looking for books she thought he might like. Then they took the books to an empty table and sat down.

“You play soccer, right?” she said, trying to engage him in conversation before diving in.

“How’d you know?”

She smiled. “Every time I see you, you have a soccer ball in your hands.”

“Oh. Yeah,” he said, giving her a slight smile in return.

She held up one of the books she’d selected with an illustration of a boy kicking a soccer ball on the cover. “Mind reading me a page or two of this?”

He shrugged. “Okay.”

As Joey read, Beth took mental notes of which words he stumbled on and paid attention to his reading habits. She was able to pinpoint a couple of problems right away, but then came the hard part: imparting her observations to her student.

“That was good,” she said when he’d finished. “But, may I make a few suggestions?”

“I guess so.”

“If you place your finger under the words as you’re reading, it’ll help you keep your place. Or if you don’t want to use your finger, you could use a bookmark.” With that, she pulled a paper bookmark out of her purse and demonstrated.