Twist of Fate (A Holiday Romance Novella) (2 page)

Kenzie’s fingers drummed on her desk at the back of the room. Ty had showed up thirty minutes ago, as promised, but it felt like two hours. When she’d first asked him to do this, he told her he wasn’t that great with kids, but she really hadn’t believed he could be this not-great. Even Abby, her model student, had pulled out her crayons and now doodled in her notepad.

Kenzie’s eyes drifted to the clock. Only twenty minutes until recess. They could make it twenty more minutes, couldn’t they? But then she caught site of Treven folding a paper airplane in the front of the room—too far away for Kenzie to take it away without causing a scene. Should she intervene or let Ty get hit by one of the boy’s admittedly amazing paper planes?

A pleading look from Ty was enough to make up her mind. She waited for him to finish his thought and then stood. “We’d like to thank Mr. Ty for that… um, fascinating introduction to computer programming.” Ty rolled his eyes at this. “Does anyone have any questions?”

Silence. Even Treven stopped folding his paper airplane.

Kenzie scrambled for something to say, something that might redeem Ty in her students’ eyes. “Does everyone want to know something cool?” she blurted.

The kids nodded.

“Did you know that Mr. Ty and I have the same name, only flip-flopped? His name is Tyler McKenzie, and my name is Mackenzie Tyler. Isn’t that funny?”

“You’re like opposites,” Treven shouted from the front.

“Exactly.” Kenzie smiled.

“And not just your names,” Tommy said. “You’re short and he’s tall.”

“That’s right,” Kenzie said. “Nice observation, Tommy.”

“And you’re fun and he’s not,” Treven added.

Kenzie had to clamp a hand over her mouth to muffle the laughter bubbling up. Leave it to Treven to say something like that. She sneaked a look at Ty, who was now glaring at her, and mustered a straight face.

“Believe it or not, Ty’s actually a really fun guy once you get to know him,” Kenzie said, still trying not to laugh. “Hey, how about a game of Heads Up, Seven Up, until recess?”

Noise. Lots of happy noise, consisting mainly of cheers.

“Treven,” said Kenzie, “why don’t you pick six others to help get the game going?” The paper plane disappeared inside his desk, and the boy darted to the front of the room wearing a huge grin. Once he’d selected six classmates to join him at the front, Kenzie called out, “Okay, heads down, everyone!”

The rest of the kids dropped their heads to the desk, holding up their thumbs hitch-hiking style, while Treven and his six helpers wandered the classroom, hunting for just the right thumb to push down. Kenzie drew in a deep breath of relief. The kids could definitely do this for twenty minutes.

Meanwhile, Ty had migrated back to her desk and now rested his lean frame against it, folding his arms as he watched the students. How could someone as smart and funny as him botch a third grade presentation so thoroughly? Kenzie would never understand.

“Was I really that bad?” he said, still watching the students.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say bad. More like…” She searched for a nice way to put it. “Well, let’s just say it was a little over their heads.”
And mine.
“But I’m sure if you gave that same presentation to a group of software engineers, they’d be riveted.”

Ty let out a snicker. “Considering they already know this stuff, I seriously doubt it. C’mon, be honest. I can take it.”

“Okay, so you stunk.” Kenzie smiled to soften her words. But when he shot her a raised-eyebrow look, she rushed on to say, “But if someone asked me to write a computer program, I’d stink at that, so…” So what? She really had no idea.

“That’s not making me feel any better, Kenz.”

Just like reminding him the truth sometimes hurt probably wouldn’t help either. “Hmmm…” She scanned her room, stopping on two plastic bins stacked in the far corner. “Hey, do you have to get back soon, or can you hang around for a bit?”

His attention returned to the students. “Depends. Are you going to make me talk to them again?”

“As if I’d ever subject them to that.”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “Again—not helping.”

“But that’s just it,” she said. “I have an idea that
will
make you feel better—or, at least get your mind off it.”

“And what’s that?”

The recess bell rang, and 24 students made a mad dash for their coats, while Caden remained in his seat, frantically trying to tie his shoe. Kenzie moved to help, saying over her shoulder, “Why don’t you stick around for the last hour of school and find out?”

Ty sat at Kenzie’s desk when the bell rang, taking in the chaos of a bunch of students returning from recess. In less than a minute, Kenzie had them completely under control. They listened. Laughed. Obeyed. Raised their hands to ask questions and refrained from folding paper planes, doodling, or talking. It was kind of freaky—like watching one of those hypnotist shows where people snapped to attention because someone clapped their hands or spoke a certain word.

Maybe her eyes had that effect on people. Ty knew that he would do practically anything if she looked at him the right way.

Or, maybe the kids listened out of respect since her enthusiasm and genuine kindness would get anyone’s attention. In fact, the girls probably all wanted to be just like her when they grew up, and the boys—well, Ty wouldn’t be surprised if they all had massive crushes on her. Like him.

By the time the final bell rang and the last child had filed out of the room, Ty questioned his decision to take the rest of the day off work and stick around. Kenzie was like an addiction. While he craved spending time with her, it always left him wanting more.

Kenzie flashed him a bright smile as she made her way toward the two large bins she’d eyed earlier. She pried off the lid of the one on top, exposing a menagerie of reds, greens, and golds. Christmas decorations. Two bins full of them. Great.

Ty should have fled with the students.

An elf lay on top of the pile. Kenzie lifted it and held it out to Ty. “This goes over there, on the second shelf from the top.” She pointed at a bookcase in the corner.

Ty stared at the creature. Pudgy cheeks. Squinty eyes. Red nose. Scrawny, dangling legs. It looked like it had a cold. He shook his head. “Sorry, but I don’t do Christmas decorations.”

“Oh, come on.” She wiggled the elf. “You know you want to.”

Ty stood his ground. “How, exactly, is making me help you turn your classroom into Whoville supposed to make me feel better? Right now I’m feeling more conned than comforted.”

“Grinch.”

“Cindy Lou Who,” he shot back. Okay, so maybe not the best comeback ever.

The corners of Kenzie’s mouth lifted. “In case you don’t remember, Cindy Lou Who wins.”

Yeah, Ty needed to work on his comebacks.

She moved forward and thrust the creature into Ty’s hand before pointing again. “Second shelf from the top. Right there.”

Ty frowned, but did as she asked, if only to rid himself of a contagious-looking elf. He plopped it down on the specified shelf.

“It’s designed to sit on the edge,” Kenzie said, “with his legs dangling over the side.”

Ty yanked it forward.

“Now a little more to the right. It looks better off-center.”

To be contrary, Ty pushed it to the left, centering it in the middle of the shelf, directly in front of a plaque that read, “Teachers are fine, Especially mine.”

“Well, that was mature of you,” Kenzie said.

“This is a third grade classroom,” Ty countered. “Just trying to fit in.”

She smiled and shook her head in a gesture of tolerance as she pulled a long strand of sparkly, green tinsel garland from the box. “This goes around the bulletin board. If you’ll hold it, I’ll staple.”

Against his better judgment, Ty followed her to the front of the room. She handed him the tinsel, which he stretched diagonally across the center of the bulletin board.

“Stop it.” Kenzie laughed as she grabbed his arm, pulling him to the side. “It goes around the edges.”

“Oh.” Ty hadn’t meant for his obnoxious move to pay off in the form of her hand on his arm, but it had. Maybe he should be obnoxious more often.

He let her put the first staple in, and then angled the garland away from the edge. “Personally, I think you should zigzag it.”

This time, his move didn’t have the desired effect. Instead of manually adjusting his hands, Kenzie stepped back and studied it thoughtfully. “You might be right. That would look kind of cool.”

“Really?” Ty didn’t know whether to be proud or disappointed.

“Let’s try it.”

He shrugged, but zigzagged the tinsel, purposefully exaggerating the angles just enough to make her realign his hands every so often.

“I still don’t understand why you don’t like Christmas,” Kenzie said as she slid his hands to the left then slapped on a staple right below them. “Seriously, who doesn’t love basking in the glow of a Christmas tree all lit up? Or decorating gingerbread houses? Or hearing stories about Santa and his reindeers and Rudolf—“

“You know that’s just a legend, right?”

“Or presents and candy canes or building Frosty in their front yard? And don’t get me started about Christmas songs and movies or smells like cinnamon, cloves, and pine needles.” She stamped the last staple down before turning to him. “It’s the most magical time of year.”

She stood close to him, her expression open and passionate, as though it really bothered her that Ty didn’t feel the same way about her favorite holiday. Maybe she really was Cindy Lou Who and he the Grinch. If only her enthusiasm was contagious so that he could get caught up in the spirit of Christmas the same way she did. But right now, the only tradition that interested him was mistletoe.

Ty cleared his throat and took a step back. “Maybe you’ll rub off on me.”

She gave him a small smile. “You know what you need?”

For her to break up with her fiancé and remove that ring from her finger? To keep touching him and smiling at him and looking at him like that and—seriously, where was that mistletoe when he needed it?

“What?” he said.

“A girl.”

TY PULLED A small stack of mail from his box and leaned against the wall as he sifted through the letters. An invitation to his work Christmas party. Pass. He tossed it in the trash. A Christmas card from his sanest of cousins. He opened it, skimmed through the personalized note, and glanced at the family picture. Two kids and one on the way. Way to go, Gavin. Next came junk mail, more junk mail, an advertisement, and finally—a postcard from Madagascar. For Kenzie.

Ty frowned as he fingered the black and white beach scene with one lone palm tree. Kenzie would be thrilled to get something this soon after Brad’s last letter, but Ty wasn’t. He flipped it over to see the date. November 8th. Interesting. Maybe the country collected weeks’ worth of mail and then sent it out in one big batch.

Without really meaning or wanting to, his gaze drifted down to the tiny words scrawled across the white space. Once he started reading, he couldn’t stop.

Mackenzie,

Sorry to do this in a postcard, but I’m out of airmail letters and the mail’s being shipped out today. It’s more important that you get this sooner than later.

I need to let you know that I’ve met someone else. She’s another volunteer. I’m so sorry to do this to you, but I won’t be coming home after all. I can’t marry you when I feel this way about her. Please forgive me.

Brad

Ty blinked at the words and reread them just to make sure he didn’t conjure them up. While he suddenly felt like fist-pumping the air and dancing a little jig, part of him wanted to jump on the first plane bound to Madagascar and punch Brad hard in the nose. Who in his right mind would break up with someone like Kenzie—and in a postcard, no less?

An idiot, that’s who.

Not that he wasn’t happy Brad turned out to be an idiot.

Ty tapped the stack of mail lightly against his other hand. Now what? Should he slip the postcard into Kenzie’s box and pretend he didn’t see it? Would she come to him for comfort? Throw her arms around him and cry on his shoulder? Wait. She
would
cry. Hard. Those bright blue eyes that had teased him and smiled at him only yesterday would turn red and puffy and sad.