Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 122966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Fuck. She was right. It was going to be painful enough already.
It was sobering. “I understand. You’re right.”
She sank into my arms once more, and this time, it was a different kind of hug. It was the holding-on-for-dear-life type of embrace, and I didn’t want to let go.
“I need one more night,” I murmured. “One more night with you in my arms.”
She nodded quickly and tilted her head. I met her in a hard kiss.
Twenty-Four
“Settle down, everyone,” I ordered and walked behind my desk. “Mr. Sheppard, do you remember the task I gave all of you the first class of the semester?”
I uncapped my marker and wrote down 1 through 5 on the board for the beginning of a list we’d be creating together.
I heard some whispering back and forth, and I was fairly certain Paul was getting his answer from his ever-helpful buddy André.
“Um, yeah, that we have to watch the news at least three times a week,” Paul answered.
“And why did I give you this task, Ms. Brown?” I asked next, facing the class.
She didn’t need any assistance from classmates. “Because it’s our civic duty to stay informed.”
“Excellent.” I tapped the unwritten list on the board with my marker. “Since I can trust that you’re all following the news on Hurricane Sandy, I don’t need to fill you in. So, let’s discuss what Sandy has wrought before we move on to how we can prepare better in the future. Anyone?”
About half a dozen hands went into the air.
“Ms. Hernandez,” I said.
“A lot of people have become homeless,” she offered.
I nodded and uncapped the marker again, then wrote that down as the first response. “We’ll call that direct impact—homelessness, loss of lives, missing persons, physical injuries, all of which affect hospitals, emergency personnel, shelters, and law enforcement. What else?”
“The power outages,” Simon said. “Took my mom fucking forever to get ahold of my aunt in New York.”
It’d taken me quite a while to get a response from Keira too, but she’d emailed back eventually to say they were safe.
I nodded along and wrote that down as item number two. “Destruction of infrastructure. Roads, cell towers, schools, transportation.”
We continued going back and forth for the next half hour or so, discussing the more immediate impacts of the hurricane, from relief efforts to damages, and it finally brought us to what I wanted them to write a paper on. The long-term effects, the lessons that could be learned, and their thoughts on how the next year would pan out in terms of rebuilding everything.
And as if he could sense that we were in the middle of a disaster relief debate, Darius chose that moment to knock on the door.
I’d been expecting him; he’d borrowed my car this morning because his truck was in the shop.
“Holy shit, he’s hot.” I heard one of the girls whisper.
Darius and I exchanged an amused look as he returned my car key.
“I can die happy now,” he said under his breath. “By the way, stop by the bar right after work—when you’ve picked up the trooper, I mean. I have news.” Okay…? Then he cast a quick glance at the board, and he narrowed his eyes before facing my class. “Don’t trust the government to help you, kids. The second you rely on them, you’re doomed. You gotta think for yourself and make your own preparations.”
I smirked wryly. “Are you done?”
“Unfortunately. Ethan’s waiting outside.” He addressed the snickering students again. “What do you do when you call 9-1-1 and no one picks up on the other end?” He tapped his temple, then disappeared with a two-finger salute.
Always a treat, that one.
I closed the door again and faced my students, and I figured, fuck it, I could roll with the punches. “He’s not entirely wrong,” I said. “Because it’s also our civic duty to be useful in our community. Everyone who can afford to help actually has an obligation to do so.” I gestured toward the board with my marker and pocketed my car key. “We already know Hurricane Sandy has caused immense damage—that will take years to recover from for many people—and being prepared is key to minimizing that damage.” I paused. “That responsibility extends to private citizens, and I want you to reflect on that when you work on this paper. What can we do, both privately and collectively, to handle disasters better? Is it even possible? Can our civic duty save a local economy?”
Picking up Grace from day care had become the highlight of my day since Pipsqueak had left.
“Grace, look who’s here!” Charlotte said excitedly.
I peered into the playroom where Grace was banging a red block against a low table, and I grinned when she spotted me.
The way she lit up fucking owned me. And made her nightly tantrums easier to survive.
“Dada!” She threw aside the block and ran toward me. Sometimes, she stumbled. Sometimes, she managed to stay upright. It was a gamble. But man, she was learning new things every day now.