Micah arrived at Wishing Tree Elementary School fifteen minutes before he was expected. He signed in at the front desk and was given directions to “Ms. Somerville’s” classroom. Once he arrived, he waited in the hall as he’d been told to, telling himself there was no reason to be nervous. He was going to talk about music and songs—he could handle a room full of eight-year-olds. Besides, he knew Noah had his back.

A few minutes later, he was joined by a woman his age and a man a few years younger. They introduced themselves.

“I’m a veterinarian,” Sally said, shaking hands with him. She had a couple of small covered kennels with her.

“I’m a plumber,” Tim added.

Micah hadn’t thought this part through, so instead of saying something sensible, blurted out, “Former rock star.”

They both stared at him. Tim blinked first.

“Micah Ruiz. From Darryl John James? Holy sh—” He looked around and lowered his voice. “I’m mean, wow, that’s incredible. What are you doing here?”

“Visiting friends. My former drummer, Steve, owns the Christmas tree farm outside of town.”

Tim nodded at Sally. “That’s Micah Ruiz.”

“I got that,” she said with a sigh. “You’ll go last, Micah. No one wants to follow you.”

Before he could figure out how to respond to that, the door to the classroom opened, and Dena stepped out.

His first thought was that she looked good. He liked how she wore her hair back in a braid and had little gold hoop earrings. Despite the lightly applied makeup, he could see the freckles on her nose and cheeks.

She wore a long-sleeved T-shirt with a colorful turkey embroidered on the front, and a long brown skirt. Teacher clothes, but still appealing.

“Hi, everyone,” she said with a smile. “Thanks so much for coming to our monthly career day. You’ve introduced yourselves?”

“Oh, we know who he is,” Sally muttered.

“Micah Ruiz,” Tim said, his tone reverent.

“A fan, I see.” Dena smiled. “Okay, so who wants to go first?”

“I will,” Sally said, walking into the classroom.

“Then Tim, then me,” Micah told Dena.

Dena glanced toward Sally. “Do I sense tension?”

“I think she wanted to be the star of the day.”

“And she’s upset because you’re famous?”

“Only in her mind. The average eight-year-old has no clue.”

Dena grinned at him. “Humility? Unexpected.”