Bean Countin' Man - the happy ending

Those of you that know me will be aware that every Friday afternoon, from 1.00 til 2.00, I spend an hour at a local primary school, helping some of the kids with their reading. It's something I started doing when Jasmine was little - the school always encourages Dads to help with reading, as there are so few male role models in schools - especially primary schools - these days. I was also co-opted onto the board of governors and I've remained there ever since. It's a fair sized school, with three classes in each year from Year 1 (5 year olds) up to Year 6 (10 - 11 yr olds), it also has a nursery with limited places. As a result, the headteacher has an annual budget of well over £1m to play with and my professional help (freely given of course) with budgeting is gratefully received. So, I'm pretty much part of the fixtures and fittings at Wellington Grove. It's good to give something back to the community and I always enjoy it. If you've ever seen a seven year old boy who had trouble with his reading gaining confidence as well as ability over the course of a year, you'd agree it was a worthwhile way to spend an hour a week. This year, I'm working with four kids in Year 4 that need a bit of extra help, there are a pair of identical twin, Polish girls, a sturdy little chap called Matthew with a runny nose and a bit of a perspiration problem and a really cute little kid called Kyle, who has thick brown hair to his shoulders.

Since posting last February, I've also made some positive steps towards finding myself some permanent female company. The first thing I did was to tentatively sign up on an online dating site, though apart from the odd reasonably pleasant meal, it was a wash-out. I also started to get myself back into shape. Since my early 40s, my waist has steadily grown outwards and although buying looser trousers helps in the short term, it doesn't address the underlying problem. So, I started running, or, to be more accurate, jogging. Every Sunday and Wednesday morning, as early as I can manage, I don my gear and head out of the house, down the street to the cycle path that runs along the river. There's a path either side of the river and it's a popular spot for joggers, as there are fairly regular bridges, you can choose the length of your run to suit your legs, lungs or time available.

After a few weeks, I began to recognise some of my fellow joggers. I run with an iPod on, but, being a polite chap, I always nod to those coming the opposite way and they nod back. Some dog walkers nod too, though they tend to talk to each other more and ignore joggers. And then there was her.

The first time I noticed her she was about a hundred yards in front of me and moving very easily, whereas I was trundling along with my would-be love handles jiggling with every step. I tried to get a bit closer because, even at that distance, I could tell that jogging behind her would provide a very useful distraction from my labouring lungs. Unfortunately, she was far fitter than me and got further in front with every step. Never mind, I thought, and continued on my almost merry way. Ten minutes later I was rewarded with a sight of her coming towards me, but on the far side of the river. Although still a fair way away, I could see that even what was probably a decent sports bra was insufficient to prevent teeshirt moving more than my saddlebags and a lot more attractively.

The next Sunday, there she was again and, frustratingly, a little further in front of me than last time. I resolved to leave the house five minutes earlier the following week. It's not that I'm a perv or anything, this was no young girl that I was intent on letching after, I could tell that she was a mature woman who had kept herself trim, I just reasoned that if I was determined to carry on with this running malarky, then I may as well provide myself with every incentive. Anyway, the plan worked like clockwork. I left the house at 6.55am rather than 7.00am and when I was nearly at the half way point in my run and about to reach the bridge, she ran past me easily and headed for the bridge. I reached the bottom of the steps when she was half way up and guiltily looked up to see her lycra-clad behind bouncing merrily up the steps. The rest of that run I stayed behind her, though progressively further and further behind.

As spring progressed to summer and the mornings got lighter and the weather milder, I found I was shedding ounces of fat. I cut out alcohol during the week, gave up chocolate and crisps and soon I was looking at myself in the mirror with something other than head-shaking resignation. Sometimes, I'd run the route the other way round, so that I could nod at my running muse as she came towards me.

Anyway, back to the story. Christmas was coming and I was invited to the Nativity Play. The kids I read with always bounded up to me when they saw me sitting at the little table in the upstairs hall when they came in from lunchtime playtime on a Friday. As it was my last week's reading of the term, I'd bought each of them a little book, as well as a box of miniture heroes for the rest of the class. The kids were pleased with their pressies and also pleased to be able to present me with a typical kiddies home-made christmas card with 'Thank you Mr Bean-Counter' on the front with a picture of a christmas tree. Little Kyle gave me a hug after opening his pressie and said he'd try to read it with his mum during the holidays.

The following Wednesday was the Nativity play day so I took the day off. I went for my usual run then lazed around until it was time to go to the school. I got there early as these events are always well attended and found a seat in the second row. Soon someone came and sat next to me and I glanced at them, as you do. She seemed familiar, but I couldn't remember where from. The play proceeded and when Kyle came on as a shepherd he waved enthusiastically at me so I waved back, in fact, the lady sat next to me and I did a synchronised wave-back. We looked at each other with matching puzzled expressions.

"You must be Kyle's mum." I whispered. She nodded, looking a bit wary. "I'm Mr Bean-Counter - I listen to Kyle read on Fridays."

"Oh, I'm so glad I met you." she was whispering too, she had to lean quite close. "I wanted to thank you. He loves reading now."

As we were talking, it suddenly clicked - she was the Sunday morning jogger. I resisted doing the old 'didn't recognise you with your clothes on' routine, but sat quietly until the end of the interval. Then, as casually as possible (which isn't really all that casual at all) I asked. "So, your husband couldn't make it then?"

"No. We don't see much of him. I did hope he'd make the effort but..." she sighed, "Poor Kyle misses him a lot."

"Look, I'm not doing anything this afternoon, I don't suppose the two of you fancy tea and a cake do you?"

To cut a long story short we began to get to know each other that afternoon. We both took it steadily but having Kyle on my side helped. I let on that I recognised her from the cycle-path and she joked that it was nice to have a man chasing her again.

This year on Valentine's day, I could tell that part of Jasmine wanted to be somewhere else, with someone else. I'm not sure if she could tell that the same was true for me, but I broached the subject and we both agreed that we were happy for the other. Jaz wanted to meet Kyle's mother (name protected etc. etc.) so I cooked dinner for the four of us. It was strange, but it felt right, a funny little family group for the 21st century: Me - 47, Her - 34, Jaz - 21, Kyle - 8. Who'd have thought that we'd all get on so well together.

I finally managed to catch up with her at the end of February. I don't intend letting her get away.
(A Bean Countin' Man Takes off socks to count past 10, Mon 30 Mar 2009, 18:36, 13 replies)

Yay!
I read your last story, and what more can be said than good things do (eventually) happen to good people :) Congrats and good luck!
(Dovvit bee, Mon 30 Mar 2009, 19:25, closed)

It may not be true but who gives a shit.
Lovely story : )
( girlinthehole, Mon 30 Mar 2009, 19:39, closed)

A heartwarming story...
Good luck with the running and with the muse!
(Lurkaloid awarded wanking black belt on, Mon 30 Mar 2009, 19:55, closed)

awww
*happy*
( Batsgirl, Mon 30 Mar 2009, 19:56, closed)

"As we were talking, it suddenly clicked"...

As did I.

I'm so glad you share your talent with us......you twang heartstrings like a kitten-powered jazz guitarist.

You are a gifted genius of a writer...If I may che so myself.
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Mon 30 Mar 2009, 19:57, closed)

Made me smile
Was dreading some horrible punending.
( monkeyboyalpha jumping on the bandwagon since, Mon 30 Mar 2009, 20:49, closed)

*sniff*
ALLERGIES! Allergies, I tell you!

*clickclickclick*
( The Light in Chains don't touch the Pope's boner, Tue 31 Mar 2009, 7:15, closed)

Lies damned lies!

But, why let the truth get in the way of a good story!
( Naked Ape call me Caitlyn, Tue 31 Mar 2009, 8:22, closed)

You're a bad man
You made me cry.

Good luck with her.
(Aberracion Life's getting very complicated, but a lot of fun., Tue 31 Mar 2009, 11:22, closed)

Yay
Also Woo, and a tad of houpla.

Save the Panowie! for dessert.
( DukeEuphoria Comes highly reccomended, Tue 31 Mar 2009, 11:41, closed)

*feels warm and fuzzy*
*shaves, then clicks*
( e.m.m.y. foxtrot uniform charlie kilo india tango, Tue 31 Mar 2009, 11:42, closed)

Beautiful,
simply beautiful, well written.

Have my first ever click.
(Orr, Wed 1 Apr 2009, 2:55, closed)

oh mate
I remember you from that first story you posted. I've just gone back and read it again, and I've teared up yet again. I sincerely wish you all the best and hope it works out fantastically with Kyles mum

/goes back to read rest of replies now
(maggotriddendirtbox fast, feral and sharp as a tack since, Thu 2 Apr 2009, 1:39, closed)