My sister, Avery, had wanted to teach, but I’d finally realized that I, too, was made for this. I enjoyed seeing my students engaged and interacting, and the rush of finally seeing them make a connection, discuss it, and ultimately teach one another fed my desire to do this every day.
Tyler had been out of contact a lot, being held up in constant meetings and campaign planning. He’d also had to take a day trip to Toronto on Monday that turned into two days away. His brother had stayed with Christian, and although I knew Tyler hated leaving him, he called and texted him regularly to check in.
In my classroom, I set up the laptop, positioning it in front of the three chairs at the table. Christian sat in one chair, playing on his phone, and I checked my watch, seeing it was four oh two, past time for our parent-teacher conference.
I then glanced at my phone, seeing no missed texts, so I hoped Tyler was on his way.
Bringing up Skype, I decided not to wait for him. I dialed Christian’s mother, knowing that she was expecting my call.
I was in no rush to see her face-to-face, though. We’d spoken on the phone and had e-mailed several times. She seemed like a great parent and wanted to be kept informed of everything that was happening with Christian. She even belonged to the social media groups and participated.
I threaded my fingers together, trying to push down the uneasiness I felt at facing her.
“Hello?” she chirped, coming on-screen, and I forced a smile.
Of course she was beautiful.
Her long black hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail, and her ivory skin looked impeccable.
“Hello, Mrs. Reed,” I greeted. “I’m Easton Bradbury, Christian’s American History teacher.”
“Nice to finally put a face with the voice,” she commented with a bright smile.
“We’re still waiting for Mr. Marek,” I told her, “but he should be along shortly.”
She nodded, an aggravated look crossing her face, but she recovered quickly.
“Put down your phone, Christian. I want to see your face,” she ordered her son.
He rolled his eyes and set it down.
“I miss you,” she singsonged.
“I know,” he sang back, and we both broke out in a laugh at his sarcasm.
They chatted for the next few minutes, and I updated her on what we were currently studying and what we hoped to have covered by the end of the year.
Christian and his mother got along great, and I started to wonder a lot of things as I sat there, observing them. I’d never had so many insecurities as I had with Tyler, and I didn’t like it at all.
Did he ever regret letting her go? Had he once loved her? What would she think of me if she knew how I felt about him?
That one scared me the most. Christian was my student, and every day I hated myself even more for doing anything that threatened his stability and happiness. I was supposed to make his life better, and I was very close to turning it upside down.
Clearing my throat, I looked at the clock and saw that it was nearly four fifteen. Where the hell was Tyler?
I smiled, trying to keep the mood going.
“You look like you’re having wonderful weather there,” I noted, seeing the white curtains blowing in the breeze coming through the open windows behind her.
“Oh, it’s hot but beautiful,” she clarified. “There’s so much land to explore. I invited Christian to spend the holidays here, but he hasn’t answered me yet.”
She shot him a hinting smirk, and he sighed, shaking his head.
“I don’t know,” I teased. “Teenagers are hard. You might have to sweeten the deal. Ensure him he’ll have Wi-Fi.”
She laughed and turned her eyes to Christian. “We’ll have Wi-Fi.”
He tried to hide the smile, but I could see it.
I wasn’t sure if Tyler wanted Christian home for Christmas, but a trip to Africa would be a wonderful experience for him.
I glanced at the clock again and picked up my phone. “I’ll give Mr. Marek another call,” I told her. “If he’s running late, we may have to start without him.”
I dialed Tyler’s cell, knowing he would answer if he saw it was me. I called rarely, so he would know it was important.
“Hey, I’m on my way to a meeting. Can I —”
“Mr. Marek,” I cut him off, putting on my teacher hat. “I’m here with Christian and his mother on Skype. Would you like us to wait for you?”
“Wait for me?” he shot out.
I gritted my teeth and smiled, keeping my voice even for Christian and his mom. “Christian’s conference,” I reminded him.
“Shit!” he bellowed. “Goddamn it!”
I let my eyes fall closed, hearing Christian laugh under his breath and shake his head. He’d heard that.
Tyler’s heavy breaths poured into the phone. “I’m only a few blocks away,” he gritted out. “I’ll be there in five.”
And he hung up, leaving me there feeling like an idiot.
I set my phone down. “He’s on his way,” I assured her. “But I think we can go ahead and start by looking at Christian’s first-trimester test scores.”
Over the next few minutes, I covered Christian’s rough start at the beginning of the year, assuring his mother that I had every confidence it had to do with his transition from moving homes and starting high school. He’d caught up and continued to excel now, moving beyond several of the students in class.
Tyler blew into the room, and I stopped talking, taking in his appearance. He looked like a wolf that had lost its prey.
Some of his hair fell over his forehead, and his tie was wrinkled and hanging loose around his neck. The weight of a mountain rested on his shoulders, and I turned away, refocusing on the documents in front of me instead of worrying about him.
He took the seat next to Christian and glanced at me on his son’s other side.
“Excuse me,” he apologized.
And then he turned, nodding to Christian’s mother. “Brynne.”
“Tyler,” she replied curtly.
Christian sat quietly, his eyes downcast.
“Mr. Marek, we already went over Christian’s test scores and discussed some of his homework,” I told him, handing him the documents. “You can take those home and review them in your spare time.”
I looked to Christian’s mother, careful not to make eye contact with Tyler, too afraid I would give something away.
I continued. “Christian will be given the opportunity to choose some of his assignments now,” I informed them. “It’s a technique I like to use for students I feel have earned the privilege. For unit projects and some daily assignments, he’ll be able to choose from a selection, which will all be worth the same percentage of points, providing he puts in the same excellent effort,” I explained, hearing a phone vibrate and seeing Tyler take it out and look at it.
My irritation grew, but thankfully, he put the phone down, ignoring it.
“Sounds wonderful,” Brynne agreed. “Christian, would you like that?”
He shrugged. “Yeah, sounds fine.” And then he looked at me. “When do I take the test for the AP class?” he asked, seeming more interested in it than he’d been at Sucré. After some time to let it absorb, he must have grown more interested.
“Thank you for reminding me,” I burst out, taking out the permission form. “I’ll schedule you for —”
But Tyler’s phone buzzed again, interrupting my chain of thought, and I dropped the paper to the table, shooting Tyler a stern look.
“Mr. Marek, would you please turn off your phone?” I chided, not really asking.
He shoved it into his breast pocket, and I didn’t care that he looked the worse for wear. He could be present for this.
“Excuse me,” he apologized again.
Christian snorted, and I continued, explaining the class and that Christian was doing well in several subjects and might qualify for more than one advanced course. Then Tyler signed the permission slip, authorizi
ng us to test his son, and I wrapped up any last questions they had. Tyler didn’t have any, because his head was clearly somewhere else today.
“Thank you, Ms. Reed, for joining us from so far away.” I smiled at her and tapped my folders on the table, making sure they were stacked neatly.
“Yeah, with the time difference, she still managed to be here,” Christian jabbed, shooting his father a cold look. “I’ll wait in the car.”
And he walked out.
“Tyler,” Brynne said flatly, “we’ll talk later.”
And she clicked off, no happier with Tyler Marek than their son.
I stood up and dropped the folders onto my desk, letting my anger show now that we were alone.
“You have secretaries,” I pointed out. “A calendar of appointments and meetings on your phone.” I turned around, seeing him stand and straighten his tie. “How could you forget?”
Out of all the things to be present for at school… It’s not like his presence here was required often. He couldn’t make this a priority?
“It was a simple mistake,” he explained. “There’s too much going on. I’m running around everywhere, and my head is crammed full with a million things. I’m doing the best I can.”
“For you?” I threw back. “Or for Christian?”
TWENTY-ONE
TYLER
M
y father’s words of advice were a constant refrain in my mind lately: You can do a couple things and succeed, or you can try to do fifteen things and fail at all of them.
I jetted down the stairs of the school, feeling my cell vibrate from my inside breast pocket and ignoring it.
Damn phone calls all day. The fucking loggers in Honduras were in the middle of a battle with the environmental activists over clear-cutting, which shouldn’t have had anything to do with me other than it was my equipment they were using to cut down the trees. Now Jay was in a fit over the guilt by association.
After that I’d been forced to a waste time having lunch with the mayor just to maintain the connection, and then I’d gotten stuck on call after call all afternoon. That was, until all hell broke loose down at the docks, when my shipment of buckets for the dozers and loaders making their way up the Mississippi for the final assembly at the factory in Minnesota turned out to be several tons of coal that wasn’t mine.
Everything that could go wrong was going wrong lately, and I didn’t know what the hell to do. My head was almost never on work anymore, and I kept dropping the ball. When I wasn’t worrying about Christian, I was thinking about Easton and when I could see her.
I’d been going over last weekend again and again in my head. Her stunt at the club and how she’d tried to push me away. I’d been enraged.
I didn’t want Kristen Meyer.
The woman was a void, like every other woman I’d come into contact with since Easton.
But I would’ve played ball if Easton had wanted it. If she’d been a part of it.
I didn’t need the excitement or the experience, but I’d enjoy it. Sure. What man wouldn’t? Especially with how hot she’d looked on the dance floor, another woman’s hands on her. However, I didn’t want to go into it without her. There was no point if she wasn’t involved. It was about us experiencing something together.
But then she’d pulled away, disconnecting herself from the scene, so that I would find pleasure in another woman and she could walk away, convincing herself that anything we had wasn’t special.
There’s no amount of red sufficient enough to explain the rage I’d felt when I reached out for her hand and found only air, then realized what she was doing.
But then she’d crawled into my lap and cried and kissed me, and Kristen had instantly disappeared.
There was nothing but Easton.
And then, later that night, when she’d told me her story and how that lowlife had victimized her, I’d wanted to erase it all from her life and make sure she had the best of everything. Happiness, love, consistency…
And then I wanted to find him and erase him. It made me sick to think of him out there, walking around. Did he know where she was?
Climbing in the back of the car, I unbuttoned my jacket and looked to Christian sitting across from me, staring out the window. “Room to Breathe” blared on the radio, and I reached over, turning it down from the controls in the back.
Leaning forward, I gave him my full attention. “I’m sorry I was late,” I told him, tired of seeing that look on his face. For every step forward we took, it was another two steps back.
“You forgot.” His sharp tone cut, his eyes still turned out the window. “You forget, because it’s not important to you.”
I sat back in my seat, hooding my eyes. “Is that what your mother tells you?”
“Yes,” he stated matter-of-factly, twisting his head finally to look at me. “And then in private she tells my stepdad that you’re a shitty, self-absorbed father.”
I hardened my jaw, feeling like everything was slowly slipping through my fingers. I was losing everything.
Christian turned his head, speaking to Patrick.
“I want to walk,” he said.
Patrick met my eyes in the rearview mirror, and I hesitated, not wanting him to get out of the car.
But dealing with Christian was like climbing a rope with one arm, and I was tired. Let him cool off, and I could think.
I finally nodded.
Patrick pulled over, letting him out. It was only a few blocks to the house and it was still light out, so I didn’t worry.
My phone buzzed in my pocket as Patrick pulled away from the curb, and I closed my eyes, exasperated.
Yanking it out of my pocket, I saw Brynne’s name on the screen and squeezed the phone, hearing it creak under the pressure.
Answering it, I held it up to my ear. “I don’t need to hear it,” I shot out.
“I was sitting there on a computer screen, Tyler,” she barked. “You couldn’t be there in person for Christian? You already missed one other conference this week.”
“I’m not making excuses,” I explained, “but it’s not that I don’t care. The campaign, the company… I’m very busy right now.”
“All of which Christian couldn’t care less about,” she threw back. “I agreed to this, because you truly seemed to want to get to know him, and I didn’t want to uproot his life while he was in school, but you’re a mess! He knows he’s not the most important person in your life, and he’s wondering why. Do you have any idea how much he wants you to love him?”
“I do love him!”
“You’re going to lose him forever!” I could hear the tears caught in her throat.
I rested my elbow on the door, holding the phone to my ear as I bowed my head and closing my eyes.
“That is, if you haven’t already,” she added, sounding somber. “Tyler, there comes a point when you’ve been disappointed or hurt too much that the bonds can never be repaired. You always wait for tomorrow. But let me clue you in. Tomorrow was yesterday.”
I clasped the phone in my hand, staring out the window, deep down knowing she was right. When would I wake up and realize that it was finally time to make my son a priority?
My first priority.
I shook my head, my throat swelling with regret. I wouldn’t realize it until it was too late. That’s what it would take for me to wise up.
“If you can’t get it together, I’m coming back to get him,” she told me.
I swallowed and spoke quietly. “It’s harder than I thought it would be,” I lamented. “Trying to balance everything alone.”
“I know,” she replied. “Thanks to you, Tyler, I know that very well.”
And she hung up, leaving me on my own just as I’d done to her all those years ago.
The weekend had passed slowly. More slowly than I’d thought it would, unfortunately.
I’d had a site in southern Florida to check out, so I’d taken Christian with me, handing over my social media and e-mails to J
ay for the weekend just so I wasn’t distracted.
Christian had joined me out in the heat and mud as we walked around, going over the plans for a plant to be built. Some of the workers had shown him how to handle the machines and even how to drive a loader. I don’t think he understood exactly what I did, getting to see only the suits and clean offices at home, but on-site, it was dirty and loud, the ground being dug up and bulldozers roaring in every direction.
After a spell of trying to act disinterested, he’d joined in the fun, finally taking in the full impact of what Marek Industries was all about.
Sunday happened to be my birthday, so we’d spent it on a boat, fishing with some of my colleagues. I enjoyed seeing him smile so much that I’d decided not to press him about anything or to try to talk to him. Instead we would ease into it, learn how to be together comfortably, and let things happen naturally.
I knew one trip wasn’t going to win him over, but I was glad for the opportunity to spend some time with him away from the day to day of the company and other distractions in New Orleans.
No matter how much I was still thinking about her.
I’d texted Easton to let her know I’d be out of town for the weekend, but other than that, I hadn’t talked to her. She’d responded with a Be safe, and I hadn’t called after that.
And it wasn’t that I didn’t want to.
But it was time to face reality. It was still only October. She’d teach Christian for another several months, so was I going to continue to sneak around with her all that time?
And not to mention that, if Christian found out, I’d lose him instantly.
“Mr. Marek?” Corinne came over and poked her head in my office door. “Ms. Bradbury is here to see you, sir.”
I turned around in my chair, from where I had been gazing out the windows, and felt a rush of heat. It was late Wednesday afternoon, and I hadn’t seen her since the conference last Thursday.
Why is she here?
I nodded. “Send her in.”
Corinne left, and I turned down the TVs on the wall
A moment later, Easton walked in wearing a long black coat, tight at the waist but flared at the legs, and her hair windblown beautifully around her face.
Misconduct Page 27
