“I see my car got back home in one piece.” Jackson grinned over the top of his coffee mug as Zach shuffled into the kitchen. “I always worry when it heads into D.C.”

Zach shook his head and aimed for the coffee pot. “D.C. isn’t some horrible den of crime and disease, you know.”

“Riiight. That’s why it’s consistently the murder capitol as well as the Nation’s capitol.”

Zach frowned. Okay, sure, certain parts of the city weren’t safe, even for the people who lived there. But it was largely fine. If you were sensible. And even in the fringes of those bad areas, there were kids—families—trying to make it. Some of the kids at his school lived on those fringes...and they didn’t deserve getting lumped into a misguided over-generalization. “When was the last time you actually went downtown and stepped foot outside of Capitol Hill? Those are real people you know. It’s not always their fault—not entirely—that they’re in the situation they are. And even if the parents have given up, the kids are trying. And the schools—under-budgeted, under-staffed as they are—are doing the best they can to help those kids make a better life than what they grew up with.”

“This from the guy who’s looking to transition to a suburban magnet school.” Jackson tapped the side of his mug. “I find that fascinating.”

Put that way...he filled his coffee and headed to the table. What did that mean? It didn’t change how frustrating working under those conditions was. A picture of the math lab at the magnet school floated through his mind. What must it be like to have a classroom full of kids enjoying their education instead of looking for ways to get out of it? He tried to put faces in the seats. But instead of some nameless magnet-school kids, he saw his current classes.

“Hey. You guys work with all kinds of politicians, get to know their pet projects, right?”

Jackson’s eyebrows lifted. “Some, yeah. Why?”

“Anyone you know particularly passionate about inner city education?”

“Aside from my roommate who claims not to know where he’s called to be teaching?” Jackson took a drink. “I’ll ask around. Why?”

“One of the coolest things I saw during my interview was the incredible math lab they have set up. And as much as it gives gifted students a chance to extend their understanding, that sort of thing might just be the way kids who are struggling could finally start making connections with the numbers. It’s at least worth a try. But I’ve asked the school to buy a classroom set of calculators—not fancy graphing ones or anything, just regular, solar calculators—and was told we don’t have the funds. I’m thinking I should save my breath on the computer idea.”

“You need a grant. Got it. That’s a really good idea. I’ll shoot out a few emails but probably won’t have any answers until Monday at the earliest. You’re not switching schools, are you?”

Zach sighed and stared into his coffee. The magnet school was an amazing opportunity. But it wasn’t his opportunity, was it? Even as his heart sank, a weight lifted off his chest and peace settled in his mind. One prayer clearly answered. Maybe other answers were also on their way. Thank you, Lord. “No. I guess I’m not.”

Jackson smiled. “Makes living in the city slightly more sensible, doesn’t it?”

Live there, too? Getting rid of the commute time would significantly increase his free time. But for what? If he lived alone—could he even afford to live alone in the city?—what would he do with the free time anyway? “It’s certainly something to look into.”

“You came! I’m so glad.” Marisa grinned and pulled Zach into a tight hug, whispering in his ear, “I was worried Amy was going to scare you off, or freeze you out. I’m glad you didn’t let her.”

He smiled as he leaned back, easing from her grasp and shooting Amy a wordless plea for help.

Amy shook her head, chuckling. “Now who’s scaring him off, Mom?”

Marisa blushed. “Yes, well, it’s not every day you bring a young man for game night. In fact...what’s it been? Nearly seven years?”

“Mom.” Amy held out a plastic bag. “Zach stopped at their local farmer’s market this morning, the last one for the season, and got a loaf of fresh sourdough.”

“Aren’t you the sweetest?” Marisa took the bag and headed deeper into the house. She called out over her shoulder, “Your father’s in the living room, hon. Why don’t the two of you join him?”

“Sorry about that.” Amy turned and wrapped her arms around Zach’s waist. “I should’ve warned you.”

Heat from her arms spread through him and he hugged her closer. “I’ll survive. Probably.”

Amy tipped her face up and pressed a quick kiss to his lips before loosening her arms and stepping back. “That help?”

“Definitely.” The warmth where her arms had been was replaced with a chill at their absence. He took her hand in his to maintain some kind of contact. “Should we go find your dad?”

“Probably. Or he’ll come find us, and then there’ll be all kinds of awkward questions about what took us so long and what were we doing and...I’d just as soon skip that.”

Zach chuckled. “Me too.”

He followed Amy down a short, narrow hall that opened into a largish room. A sectional sofa formed an L around a huge square coffee table. The wall held a flat-screen TV with wires tacked neatly in a short path to a nearby armoire where they disappeared. Watercolors depicting what had to be the Caribbean adorned the walls between barred windows.

“Dad, you remember Zach?”

Devon stood, his hand outstretched. “Glad you could join us.”

“Thank you, sir. I am, too.” Zach took Mr. Harris’ hand and gave a firm shake. “You have a lovely home.”

Devon laughed as he sat. “Don’t sound so surprised and have a seat.”

Zach hunched his shoulders. Had he sounded surprised? He hadn’t meant to. “I didn’t mean...”

“No, no, you’re fine. I was teasing.” Devon looked at Amy. “Didn’t realize you’d picked a touchy one.”

Zach bristled.

Amy shook her head. “Daddy. Be nice. He’s teasing you again, Zach. Sorry. It’s his way of trying to make you feel at home. And it’s also the reason I don’t tend to bring my friends for game night.”

Friends? Zach sent Amy a questioning look and loosened his hold on her hand. Amy squeezed his fingers and tugged him toward the couch.

“So. What game are we taking on tonight?” Amy gestured to the stack of boxes in the middle of the coffee table.

Devon pointed at Zach, his eyes darting to their joined hands. “I thought we’d let your friend choose. In the interest of hospitality and fair play.”

Zach cleared his throat. “Any suggestions, Amy?”

“Nope. You have to choose. I’m going to go see if Mom needs help with dinner.” Amy squeezed his hand before standing. “Be nice, Dad.”

Zach watched her go through the archway leading back into the hall they’d come down. Jitters hopped in his stomach as Devon’s gaze remained steady on him. He fought the urge to clear his throat. Had he done something wrong? What was her dad thinking? He scooted to the edge of the cushion and studied the stack of board games. None of them were familiar. Why couldn’t they play Clue or Monopoly? He turned to Devon and met his eyes. “Any advice?”

“Don’t break her heart.”

The pastor’s sermon echoed through his head as Zach sat at his desk early Monday morning. Worthy of the calling to which you have been called. Not the calling you think you want, and not even necessarily a calling in the sense of a vocation. But a calling to walk in the footsteps of Christ and live every day for him, to be faithful in the large and the small. He looked around the room. Nothing had changed since he turned out the light on Friday and yet...everything was different. If he was going to stay here, it was time to make a few changes. Starting with removing the air of ‘temporary’ that permeated everything.

Zach unrolled the posters he’d dug out the back of his closet and smiled. They were math puns, sure, but what else would a math teacher hang on his walls? The kids would probably groan and roll their eyes, but a few of them would be retelling them in the hall later. He’d bet on it.

“A little late in the year to be hanging posters, isn’t it?” Amy leaned against the door jamb, an enormous mug steaming in her hand.

“Better late than never?” Zach finished pressing the last corner of the poster telling about the progeny of three wives of a Native American Chief.

Amy eyed the poster, her lips twisted into a grimace. “Pythagorean theorem?”

He grinned. “Got it in one.”

“That’s awful. Seriously, Zach, there’s no way the kids are going to get that.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But it makes me smile, so it’s staying.” Zach lifted another poster and started hanging it.

“What’s gotten into you?” Amy pushed off the door and stepped into the room. She stood beside him and slipped her arm around his waist. “Hi, by the way.”

“Good morning.” Zach darted a glance toward the door before quickly kissing her. “As for what’s gotten into me, I have it on good authority that the most amazing woman in the District is in love with me. It’s enough to make a man almost giddy.”

Amy snickered. “Giddy?”

“Too much?”

“Maybe a little. But I’ll let it slide. This time.” She studied the newest poster. “Are they all terrible puns? ‘Cause this is something I didn’t know about you and I’m not sure I like it.”

His eyebrows shot up. “How can you not love puns?”

“Puns, maybe. But math puns? Math...isn’t funny.”

Zach clutched his chest and staggered a step away.

“Ha. Ha. Honestly, though. A line of jack o’lanterns with numbers carved in them? Whee. So hilarious.”

He frowned. “You don’t get it, do you?”

“What’s to get? Someone carved numbers in pumpkins. Gee, real knee slapper.” Amy made an exaggerated laugh.

“Okay, but what numbers? That’s what’s funny. Three point one four one five nine? Pi? Pumpkin Pi?”

She groaned. “I liked it better when I didn’t get it. Your kids are going to rip these off the wall. And if they find out you’re blaming it on me, they’re going to...I don’t know, egg my office or something.”

His lips twitched. She looked seriously concerned. “I guess I’ll leave out the part about you loving me then, if I’m asked, and instead mention that I have a pretty solid lead on a grant that would get us what we need to set up a math exploration lab.”

“Really? I mean, I’m not sure I know what that is, but it’s got the right word attached to it.”

“Which word is that?”

“Grant.” Amy grinned. “That’s the word the administration is always hoping teachers will say. I know this because I’ve been kicking around an idea...and I’m not trying to change the subject. Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.” He perched on the edge of a desk and admired the excited glow pulsing off her. “What’s the idea?”

“You sure?”

He nodded.

“There’s a big government initiative surrounding nutrition in school lunches.”

“I might have heard you grumbling about that, yes.”

She glared at him. “I wasn’t finished. Anyway, one of the things they’re hoping to encourage is gardening.”

He frowned. What did one have to do with the other? “I’m not sure I follow.”

“At school. Gardening at school. So that the kids get experience growing vegetables that they then eat. Anyway it all rolls together and I was hoping that maybe Paige would be willing to help us set something up this spring.” Amy drained the mug and set it on Zach’s desk. “So she could cover the know-how end of things. I’d just need to figure out the money for tools and seeds and...whatever else we need.”

“Land? I’m pretty sure you need land to have a garden.”

She nodded. “I’ve been thinking about that, actually. We don’t exactly have wide open fields. But we do have an unused parking lot. Where we could maybe build a green house. And that’d make more sense, really, given the growing season here. Or at least that’s what the books I’ve been reading suggest.”

“You should talk to Paige. Want me to get Jackson to have her call you?”

Amy shook her head. “I can do it. She’s off on Mondays, right? The restaurant is closed?”

It was closed Sundays and one other day. Was it Monday? That sounded right. “Think so. But she might still be in her office there. I think I remember Jackson saying Monday was paperwork and order delivery day.”

“Cool. So...math exploration lab?”

He hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “I’m aiming for five computers with some software and some sturdy manipulatives for kids who are more kinetic and need to be able to touch and feel the numbers for the math to make sense. At least to start. If that goes well, then I guess we can apply for more and talk to the school about a dedicated lab space. But for now, the principal was pretty clear that anything I brought in would have to stay in my classroom.”

Amy pecked his cheek as the first bell rang. “I’m proud of you.”

He smiled as she darted out into the hall, greeting the trickle of students beginning to arrive now that the doors were open. She was proud of him. Better yet, so was he.