As she chuckled at his sarcasm, he noticed that the lines bracketing her eyes and mouth were growing deeper. His diminutive mother, with her long black hair almost always worn in a braid down her back, her brightly colored clothing and heavy turquoise jewelry, was finally starting to age. But she still had that sparkle in her eyes that seemed to make everything okay. He wasn’t sure how she stayed so unfailingly optimistic in the face of what she’d seen, working with so many troubled youth, but she pulled it off beautifully. “I predict you’ll thank me when it’s all said and done,” she said. “Working with these kids is so rewarding.”

“I’ll settle for worth it,” he said drily. “Worth it should be attainable.”

Still laughing, she slid her arm through his. “And the assembly? Will you do that, too?”

She’d asked if she could gather the whole student body together—or what was left of it since the kids who got to go home for Christmas would be gone by then—to hear him speak about his career and his work. That was when they planned to announce the winners of the art contest he’d sponsored just after school started. If someone won who was gone, they could check the website for the list or learn once they returned to school, but she wasn’t going to hold off because she always did her best to entertain those who had nowhere to go and make the holidays fun for them, too. He wanted to support her in that, but he wasn’t anxious to speak in front of such a large group, since probably half the student body would still be around, any more than he was excited to teach next semester. “You know I will.”

“You’re just not happy about it,” she said, joking.

They’d reached the classroom so he didn’t bother to comment as she showed him inside. “This is where you’ll be teaching,” she said. “I’ve had Gavin remove the chairs and desks and set up these stations.”

Seth walked slowly around the room. His brother had already covered the carpet with a tarp, too. “And the girls’ class?”

“Rather than sacrifice two classrooms, I’ll have the girls report here.”

“Allow them to cross onto the boys’ side?” he teased as if it was some big, dramatic thing. “That’s unusual, isn’t it?”

“We have dances and joint assemblies with the girls, so it’s not too remarkable. You’ll teach the boys on Mondays and Wednesdays and the girls on Tuesdays and Thursdays. And who knows? If you’re happy with the way things are going, maybe you’ll extend the class or do a second session to finish out the semester.”