“You okay?” Thad asked her.
She glanced at him in feigned surprise. “Yeah.”
“Good first day?” he asked.
“Yeah. It was great, actually,” Alice said after a few seconds of reflection. She was telling the truth. The kids had been sweeter, fresher, and more excited to be there than she’d realized they would be. The opportunity for supportive, stress-free fun in such an idyllic setting, the removal of all the usual difficult obstacles from their life, seemed to peel back a lot of their armor. “For the most part, it was really special,” she admitted to Thad.
“You shouldn’t let Judith worry you. She’ll come around. And the other kids are already warming up to you. Even mine,” he said, referring to the kids from the Orange Team who had been playing football with them. Alice noticed his smile and grinned back. Unlike her, Thad looked even more appealing when he’d worked and played hard all day. His golden hair was sticking up in spikes and darkened from sweat. His gray T-shirt clung to his toned torso, emphasizing his taut muscles.
“You’re the one reassuring me now. I can see why. You’ve found your stride,” she said as they entered the woods. “You’re fantastic with kids. You should be a teacher.”
He looked startled at her off-the-cuff statement, but she’d only been telling the truth as it struck her. He was a natural with kids, warm and funny but authoritative. Easy to follow.
“Sorry,” she said, perplexed by his slightly stunned expression.
“It’s okay,” he said, hitching the equipment bag higher on his shoulder. “It’s just …”
“What?” Alice asked, sensing his disquiet.
“I’ve thought about it before,” he said. He glanced at her uneasily. “Being a teacher. A coach, too. I thought about that even more than being a fisherman,” he added jokingly.
Even in the shaded woods, she saw his face deepen in color at his admission.
“Why don’t you?” she asked in a rush. “You’d be so good at it.”
His smile looked a little strained. He shook his head.
“What?” she prodded, confused.
“It’s not what Schaefers do.”
“Schaefers? Like your mom and dad, you mean? Your aunts and uncles and cousins?” She already knew Thad was an only child. “What does it matter what they do? We’re talking about you.”
He shook his head again. “I went to school for business. A Yale MBA isn’t cheap, you know. I can’t just trash it all on a whim.”
“The idea of being a teacher is a whim? Is that you talking? Or your dad?” she asked slowly.
His green eyes flashed at her. Alice bowed her head, recognizing she’d come on too strong. As usual. Neither of them spoke for a stretched moment. Birds twittered in the trees and the leaves rustled in the gentle wind. A thought occurred to her and she gave a bark of laughter.
“What?” he asked.
“It’s weird,” she said impulsively. “I’ve been thinking of myself as the loser here.” She noticed his dark scowl and flagging step and knew she’d misspoken again. “Not that I am—or you are—or anything. I’m just talking about irrational insecurities. Because I didn’t grow up like you or Brooke or Dave did, I’ve been feeling like I’m constantly running uphill while you guys fly effortlessly. But all of those advantages I’ve been thinking you guys had over me … they can just as easily be disadvantages, too. Right?” she asked desperately, searching his expression. It took her a second to realize they’d stopped and were facing each other.
“Yeah. You’re right,” he said soberly after a moment. “You have no idea how hard it is to live up to my father’s expectations. It’s like some kind of impossible dream, one I know I’ll never succeed at, but can’t seem to help trying to make reality anyway. It’s like a habit I can’t quit.”
Compassion swept through her. Her lips twitched into a smile and she resumed walking. “At least now you know. That it’s a disadvantage, I mean—your concern about doing what your parents want when it comes to the idea of being a teacher. It’s better to realize what you’re fighting, isn’t it? To know what’s holding you back instead of …”
She shrugged, fading off. He looked at her inquiringly.
“Just accepting it,” she finished.
“I’ll never be a teacher, Alice.”
“Yeah, well … I never thought Durand would look at me twice as a potential executive. Life is a funny thing,” she said, trying to lighten his mood.
I never thought Dylan Fall would look at me twice, either. Yeah. Damn funny thing, life.
She tamped down the thought, focusing on Thad. She felt guilty for making him so serious all of a sudden. A little sad. How horrible, to want to do one thing with your life, but doing something else because it was expected of you. Sissy and her uncles had no expectations or aspirations for Alice whatsoever. She’d never realized that was a kind of freedom until now.