“See? I Told You My Papa Was Handsome,” She Told Her Teacher, Making Her Father Freeze

The schoolhouse was nearly empty. Emily Foster moved between the rows, straightening slates and gathering the last of the primers into a stack. Outside, the afternoon light had gone long and gold across the floorboards. Most of the children had scattered home already, chased out the door by an early autumn wind. Nora Harwood was still there, perched on

the bench nearest the window, her legs swinging just above the floor. Emily glanced at her. Does your father usually come for you? When he can, Nora said. He works a lot? Nora nodded. But he always comes for me. She said it plainly, the way a person states a fact about the weather. Emily smiled and went back to the

slates. Do you have a husband? Nora asked. Emily looked up, caught off guard. No. Why not? I suppose I haven't met him. Nora considered this with great seriousness. My papa doesn't have a wife, either. A pause. And he's very handsome. I'm sure he is, Emily said, humoring her. Very. I'm convinced. Nora's eyes went to the

window and her whole face lit up. That's him. She was off the bench and halfway to the door before she turned back, seized Emily's hand and pulled her along. Daniel Harwood was just stepping down from the buggy, his coat still faintly dusted from the lumber yard, plainly hurrying. Nora towed Emily straight up to him and

stopped, satisfied between them both. See? I told you my papa was handsome. Daniel went very still. Emily pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh. You've been discussing my appearance at school? Daniel asked. Only with Miss Foster. He turned to Emily, already apologizing. She waved it off. I've had a very thorough introduction