by Kristy Marie
“She missed him last night,” Breck notes, wiping her hands on her apron.
“Oh,” I respond, feeling shitty that he missed out on time with the little girl he adores.
“Oh no,” Breck corrects herself. “He needs more friends than a toddler. We’re happy he met you.” She glances at Tim, still tickling the little girl. “You’ve been good for him. He’s happy. And that’s all any of us want.”
I watch the man that I have no business falling in love with tire the little girl out; then he announces that he’s going to shower and change. He asks one more time if I will be okay here with Breck.
“I’ll be fine. Go.”
With almost a shyness, he nods, grazing my lips with his thumb before leaving.
“He’s definitely the happiest I’ve ever seen him.” Breck’s words are spoken with such care. I can tell she really cares about Tim, and not in a creepy way.
“How long have you known him?” I’m genuinely curious. Tim said he’s been here for about four years. He mentions Breck, about how she makes his lunch and sent me the extra cherry tart. Is she his Pe?
“Almost three years,” she answers, moving on to wipe remnants of fruit off the wiggly toddler. “Where’s Mommy?” she asks the baby who starts grinning and looking around.
“Anniston is her mom, right?” I feel pretty sure this is what Tim said back at the fall festival, but I want to be sure.
Breck beams. “She is. But we don’t let Anniston or Theo have her very often.” She scoops the little girl out of the high chair. “We all adore her, especially Tim. Anniston has to literally steal her own baby from his arms most nights.”
I smile, thinking of Tim cradling this little girl in his massive biceps. “He really likes kids, huh?” I mean, he wanted to work at the school, and with his behavior around Aspen and Oliver, it seems like a logical conclusion.
“You know, we had no clue until Aspen was born. Tim doesn’t disclose much about his past, but when this little girl came along, he came alive. For the first time, I thought we were seeing the real Tim. But now… since you came along, we’ve only realized that we only saw a portion of the real Tim.”
Did her comment just make me feel like a superstar? Yes. Yes, it did.
“He’s not the sharer,” I note, and Breck nearly snorts.
“No, he isn’t. But he’s kind and honest, and I’ve found those traits in men rare.”
“Brecklyn,” says the big guy, Cade. The one I like. Well, I like them all, but I feel like I should pick one friend, you know? And this guy with the insane green eyes is the one I choose. “You need to get off your feet. Give me the princess.” As if he just realized I am standing here, he adds, “Is Tim upstairs?”
I nod. “He’s changing.”
Cade tosses the little girl up and onto his shoulders, his hands steadying her with a firm grip. “Come outside. We’re all on the deck.”
I look at Breck and wonder why she needs to be off her feet. “Are you okay?” I ask when Cade kisses her on the forehead, which is so damn sweet it makes my heart ache.
“I’m fine. Just pregnant with twins who will more than likely outgrow clothes in weeks just like their daddy.”
Cade’s face lights up at her comment, like these babies outgrowing clothes is an admirable trait to have. But really, looking at this man and all his muscles, I think Breck will never worry about having to carry a vacuum up the stairs, banging your ankles and killing your arms. I may have some experience with this. I’m just saying, Breck seems to be one adored woman.
“Come,” she says, taking me by the arms as if we’ve been friends for years. “Major Jameson will only ask once.”
That must be a theme around here. Mr. Lambros says he’ll only ask once, but I can usually pull a couple out of him. I like a challenge.
The backyard looks like a guys’ playground. A full-size baseball field is within walking distance but far enough away that it doesn’t take away from the beautiful deck with its hanging Edison bulb lights and comfy deck loungers. Cade was right; everyone is out here, including my best friend who is spread out on a lounger by the pool. Marcus is next to him, each of them with a beer in their hand, listening to an animated Hayes.
“I’ll see you guys later,” a woman with midnight hair announces, hugging Breck and Anniston before she leaves. “Don’t let his ass drown; he’s had a few beers and showing off for our company.”
Anniston, her arms now wrapped around her own baby, responds, “Don’t worry, I’ll run it out of him later.”
“You must be Milah,” she says after a quick smirk to Anniston.
“I am,” I say, my hand, for some reason, wanting to sign.
“I’m Bianca, Hayes’s girlfriend.” At that comment, Anniston and Breck make this swooning noise that sends Bianca’s eyes rolling. “I have to go do my community service, but if you’re still here when I get back—”
“You won’t be available,” interrupts Hayes with a kiss so hard that it sends Bianca through the French doors. “I know you weren’t trying to leave without telling me bye, darlin’.”
I turn back to Anniston and Breck, unsure of what I might witness if I keep watching.
“I hope you don’t scare easily,” Anniston muses, she and Breck grinning.
I wave them off. “I live with Felipe.” I point to my roommate who has now lost his shirt and is taking a long look at the guy with a lot of tattoos.
“Wow. Look at Kane behaving.” This comes from Breck. I look again at Pe and wonder what in the world he could be saying that entertains Kane, which Breck and Anniston seem shocked by.
“Pe can entertain a goldfish,” I say with a shrug. “He has one of those personalities that you just can’t ignore.” So true. Pe is considerate and kind. He might not be humble, but he’s thoughtful, and like Breck said earlier, kindness is rare. She said honest, as well, but Pe isn’t honest. He likes his little white lies, and frankly, so do I. I don’t really want him to be honest when I ask how a new dress looks. I want the lie. Always the lie.
“Anniston. Brecklyn.” A young guy, probably in his mid-thirties, greets us on the back deck. I legit am going to have to make a cheat sheet for all these names and faces.
“Dr. Parker!” Anniston goes in for a hug. “I’m so happy you could make it!”
“Thank you for inviting me.” He seems sincere, not like he had to take a shot of Fireball to get over his nerves to come to a family barbecue. I am not speaking from experience, I swear.
“This is Milah,” Anniston says, turning Dr. Parker’s attention to me like I’m something special.
Dr. Parker’s eyes are kind as he holds his hand out. “It’s very nice to meet you, Milah. I’ve heard good things about you.”
He has? Who is this guy and why has he heard about me?
“It’s nice—”
“Dr. Parker….” Uh-oh. I know that tone. It’s Mr. Broody, and he’s not near as happy to see Dr. Parker as Anniston is. “What are you doing here?”
“Anniston invited me,” he returns, his hands signing along with his words. “And since you can’t remember where my office is, I figured I would come to you.”
“I’ve been busy,” he gruffs out, not signing.
“I see.” Why does Dr. Parker look amused by Tim’s behavior? “I was just introducing myself to Milah.”
Tim sighs and looks at the sky for a moment before addressing me and Dr. Parker. “Milah, meet Dr. Parker, the pain in my ass and the main source of my ‘broody’ days.”
The main source?
Dr. Parker barks out a laugh. “Aww… your words sting, Timaeus.”
He’s lying, especially when Tim claps him on the shoulder and says, “Thanks for dropping by. Next time, call first.”
“Lambros! Stop being a girl and come down here! Hayes is talking shit and needs to be reminded why those who can’t play baseball scout.”
I nudge Tim and get his attention. “Theo is yelling for you to come down and play ball with them,�
� I say, signing only a few of the words.
“You won’t leave?” he says just as Theo yells for Anniston to push him down the stairs.
I shake my head. “No. I’m going to hang out with the ladies and watch Felipe embarrass himself.” Seriously, Pe sucks at sports, but there he is, all excited, heading for the ball field.
With a soft kiss to my head, I freeze. “Watch me hit a homer off a Cy Young winner,” he says, pulling back to get a look at my face.
I swallow. Don’t fall in love with this man, Milah. You can’t. “Go get ’em,” I say with a little less enthusiasm, sending him off with a smirk. Watching a man be competitive is so crazy attractive. So why did I act like I was being punished? Because I am. Watching Tim is temporary. Loving Tim is temporary. And the last thing I want to do is ruin all the progress he’s made by coming to the school. I need to tell him I’m leaving at the end of the year. But then again, he could get tired of me and want to break up. I mean, I’m thinking he’s madly in love with me and it will devastate him when I leave. I don’t know that loves me, but whatever we have, sure feels comfortable.
“Sit, Milah.” Anniston pats the chair beside her, and Dr. Parker takes the other.
“I gotta go kick Theo’s ass,” says Cade as he kisses his wife. “He’s been talking so much shit since he beat me in Madden the other night.”
Breck scoffs, “That’s not hard. I beat you in Madden.”
He looks at her like he’s remembering something funny. “You cheat in Madden. Both of you cheat in Madden.”
“Go on with your lies,” she teases, and then proceeds to admire his ass all the way down the deck stairs.
Settling in, we all watch as most of the men take their respective places on the ball field.
“Anniston,” Dr. Parker starts after a few minutes. “I tried to talk to Tim, but he wouldn’t hear me out. Dr. Callahan has an opening in his surgery schedule. I think it would be a good time to revisit surgery considering the past couple of months.”
Surgery? What kind of surgery? For his hearing? Why would he not hear Dr. Parker out? I would think he would be relieved.
I look to Anniston for answers as she bounces Aspen on her knee. Then, at the crack of the bat, we all watch as Tim lines a ball clear into center field. Felipe is on the run, but he doesn’t get to the ball before Tim makes it to second base. I can hear the guys all laughing, but I can’t make out the words. I’m sure it’s a bunch of smack-talking anyway. But what holds me captive is how happy Tim looks.
Anniston sighs. “Okay, we’ll try talking to him. But don’t get your hopes up. He’s never changed his mind about this.”
Somehow Mr. Lambros just became more complicated.
Why wouldn’t he want surgery?
Radio host: Wow. You say it with such conviction, like this wasn’t just two years ago.
Penelope: Well, I knew it was coming. I hoped it wouldn’t, but deep down, I knew the countdown had begun.
Radio host: Have you learned American Sign Language to help in communicating with others?
Penelope: I have!
Radio host: You sound so excited about it.
Penelope: Well, I haven’t always been excited about learning it. But when I got an official diagnosis, Timaeus researched everything. He went to every doctor’s appointment with me.
The only thing I can think is: Has he slept with her?
It’s the single most irrational thing that’s been playing on repeat since the time Cal walked into our classroom. Our classroom. That’s another thing that seems crazy this morning. Since when has this class—this room—become mine? I wasn’t supposed to enjoy a job. This was only supposed to help my family move on and prove to Dr. Parker that I am adapting.
I wasn’t supposed to sleep with my co-teacher—again—and ride with her into work. But here I am, dressed in a pair of khakis, staring daggers at the teacher across the hall who is currently occupying Milah’s attention.
“That’s so sweet, Cal. Thank you.”
He brought her a calendar. A fucking calendar. And I’m ready to launch myself across the room and rip it from her hands. When did I become a jealous man? Oh, right. The night Milah made music come alive for me. The night she single-handedly made chills break out along my spine. The night when she made me feel everything.
“Have a good day.” Finally, she shoos his ass out the door. I pop one of her M&M’s in my mouth just for the fuck of it. Just so I can get a rise out of her and remove that smile Cal put on her face. No one gets one of my smiles. Especially not Cal. Not that I know him or have any business hating him, but I get the vibe they’ve spent time together, and not in a platonic way. I see the way he looks at her. That man wants her. Too bad I’m not the sharing type.
“Are you going to Ms. Peak’s later today?” she asks me. “Wait! Is that my M&M?” I hold her precious M&M above my head when she tries swatting it out of my hand. “Why are you eating my M&M’s?” She’s so passionate about these damn things.
“Shouldn’t you be setting a good example for the kids by sharing?” I tease.
“I swear I will climb on this desk and attack you. I have no shame wrestling it from your hand.” If the kids weren’t due to come in any minute, I could be tempted to watch her try.
“So, you don’t want the full, family-size bag I brought today for lunch?”
Her eyes dart to my bag. “You brought me a new bag?”
I nod. It sure wasn’t a stupid calendar. “Saw you were running low.”
Slowly, she pulls on my bicep, her eyes softer. I let her control my arm until she plucks the M&M from my fingers and examines it like she’s memorizing every detail. Then she places a kiss to the round candy and stands on her tiptoes to slip it between my lips. It’s all so intimate. Like this is about more than a single piece of candy. Like she’s letting go of something—giving me a piece of herself.
Her finger lingers between my lips, and I secure her so I can suck every ounce of sweetness she is offering. “The kids are coming,” she says, and fuck if I don’t wish I could hear how it sounds. Was it raspy? Winded and breathy? I can feel the shivers in her body, so I know she’s turned on. I can read her body like sheet music. Every high and low note. Every sharp and every flat. I can read her. I don’t need to hear what she sounds like.
But I want to.
I release her, and she pulls her hand back, cradling it like it’s precious. “So, are you going to Ms. Peak’s room today?” she asks the question I didn’t answer earlier.
“I need to go earlier today,” I tell her, taking a deep breath and calming my horny ass down. “She said she needs me to help her with something.”
Milah nods. “You still want Oliver and me to meet you for lunch?”
I nod, a smirk playing on my lips. “Unless you would rather I drag you from the cafeteria.”
“How good are you at washing cars?”
I eye Ms. Peak as I wipe off the piano. “Did you ask if I was good at washing cars?” I could have read her lips all wrong.
“That’s what I said.”
I chuckle. “Uh. I guess I’m average. Why?”
“Because I need another body to help with the car wash fundraiser this Friday.”
Ah. “I think I can handle that.” It isn’t like I had anything planned except to maybe see Milah in the evening. I also wanted to talk to Oliver’s social worker about letting him come over so I could take him to a game some time. Milah told me that Oliver’s mom had put him up for adoption when he was a baby. With his hearing loss, he has yet to find an adoptive family, so he bounces around between foster families. The kid lives an inconsistent life, and yet he’s the sweetest, most attentive kid ever.
“Good. What do you think about doing it at the foundation?”
I arch a brow at Ms. Peak. “The foundation? Why would you want to have it at the foundation?”
“Why not? Do you not have plenty of acreage?”
I nod almost as if in slow motion. “We do.”
Ah. “I’ll text Anniston.”
Ms. Peak smiles a victorious smile and then greets someone behind me.
“Cal! Thanks for stopping by.”
Did she say Cal? I turn so I can see the annoying hall neighbor. Yep, it’s Cal. “No problem, Ms. Peak.”
He sets a bucket of cleaning supplies on the desk, and Ms. Peak says, “Tim just agreed to help us out.”
Us? What the fuck does Cal have to do with the music class?
“He’s also going to see if we can hold the fundraiser at the foundation.”
Cal smiles lovingly at Ms. Peak. “Thank you for helping out in here for the past couple of months,” he tells me. “Grams hasn’t been able to stop raving about your many talents.” His eyes tell me he’s not nearly as impressed as she is.
“I didn’t realize you two were related,” I say, because clearly, this is news to me. I wonder if Milah knows.
“We don’t advertise it much.” Ms. Peak laughs. “Besides, Cal has no use for the music room. Ever since he was a child, he’s hated music.”
“You hate it?” What kind of person hates music?
Cal shrugs, tucking his hands into his pockets. “I prefer talk radio.”
Wow. Talk radio.
No one speaks in that moment, because what can you say about talk radio? Nothing.
“Will Milah be coming with you to the car wash?”
Uh, yeah, that’s a solid no if he’s going to be there. I won’t have him eyeing her tits while she insists on helping and getting herself soaked.
“I think she has something going on,” I lie.
I have stooped to epic lows.
“Oh, okay. Well, I need to get back to class.” He hugs Ms. Peak and tips his chin to me. “See ya later.”
