Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 48061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
“They’re in the same class!” she crows, “We’re hanging around waiting for you to get here.”
We get to the classroom, and Liam runs to Sasha and her son immediately. I settle my mom in a chair and wait to talk to his teacher. The room is cute, everything labeled in colorful cubbies.
“I’m Carla Sanchez,” the teacher says to me. “This must be Liam,” she nods toward my son who’s playing with Sasha’s little boy at a sand table.
“Yes, this is my Liam,” I say, pride evident in my voice.
“I looked over Liam’s records from his PreK in Seattle. He’s a smart little guy. We’re going to have a fun year.”
“Thank you. I’ll get the stuff on this list, and we’ll be ready.”
“Sounds great. Here’s the information sheet on our schedule, and it has my contact info on it. Just let me know if you have any questions.”
“Thanks,” I say to her.
My mom’s chatting to some woman she knows, so Sasha and I take the boys to the bounce house in the play area. By the time I manage to drag a tired, sweaty Liam away from that it’s eight o’clock. When we get home, it hits me all at once. I forgot to call Benny and cancel. I was so frantic to get to the school on time that I didn’t remember to tell him something came up. I look at my phone and see alerts for texts and a voicemail. I feel awful.
When Liam’s asleep I read the texts and message him. Something came up. I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to you” He doesn’t respond for a while, and when he does it’s not good. My stomach plummets and I feel sick.
Forget it, he replies.
Meet me for breakfast, let me explain? I ask. Again, I wait half an hour before he messages back an ‘ok’.
I try and think about what to tell him that isn’t, ‘I had kindergarten open house for the son you don’t know you have.’
Shit, this is getting more and more complicated, and I can’t keep this secret much longer.
18
BENNY
She’s waiting at a table drinking her coffee when I come in. She looks pale and pinched. If there was an entry for the word ‘guilty’ in the dictionary, this would be the face. I sit across from her, fold my hands and wait.
“I’m glad you came,” she says, “Thank you. I know I screwed up, and I’m so sorry. Something just—came up,” she shrugs.
Her lie is a bitter taste in my mouth. She was never any good at making things up.
“That’s it?”
“What’s it?”
“Your excuse. You were just forced to go somewhere all evening and couldn’t let me know.”
“I could have let you know, but it slipped my mind. I got the date wrong for an event I had to go to. I realized my mistake with less than half an hour to go to the house to get there. I was so focused on not being late that I forgot to call you. I’m sorry.”
“Where were you going that was so vital?” I ask.
Daisy shakes her head. I wait while she seems to think it over before pursing her lips.
“Listen, I’ve apologized. I’m a grown woman, and you don’t have any right to track my every move, Benny,” she says.
She’s right, but it still pisses me off. I keep my temper in check, feel my fists clench under the table.
“I show up at your house sweating because I’m nervous to make a good impression on your mom this time. God, I was such an idiot. When you first got back, you said you’d see me while you were here, no strings attached. You say you’re not running away again, but that’s what you’re doing right now. You’ve clammed up, and you’re not gonna tell me a thing because you think I don’t deserve an explanation.”
She won’t look at me. I know the truth already. I can see it in the way she fidgets and avoids my eyes. She lost her nerve. I’m good enough to fuck, not good enough to come to her door with flowers and taker her out on a proper date. I feel sick.
“You know what,” I say before she can get her thoughts together and let me down easy. “This was never gonna work long term, so why drag it out? We make a clean break, say goodbye this time. You cheated me out of that before,” I say. I’m feeling petty as hell now and I don’t stop there. “There’s not a damn thing out there that’s better than what we have. You went all the way across the country looking for something better, and you didn’t find it did you?” I demand.
Her cheeks flush, maybe embarrassed because I have a point or maybe just pissed off at me. I can’t read her--I feel so far from her right now she might as well be across an ocean instead of just a table.