Then There Was You: A Single Parent Collection

by Gianna Gabriela

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I can tell.”

  “How so?”

  “Because if something bad had actually happened, you would’ve called me to tell me instead of waiting for me to check in with you.” This is true. When my world came crashing down, she was the first person I went to. It was the first time I had ever skipped class. The first time I had broken the rules, but there was no way I was going to stay in school that day after what I’d just learned. It was the last day of class, so it’s not like it mattered.

  “This is true.”

  “I know you so well,” Emely says triumphantly from the other end of the line.

  Turning right, I immediately spot Bragan Elementary. It’s in the same strip as the high school only that’s a couple more blocks away.

  “How are you? I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you too. I stayed in Mexico for a whole other week. The client wanted me to get more exposure to his business.”

  “And is that the real business or are you trying to tell me something?” I ask, laughing.

  “Eww. No. The real business. His nightclubs. He’s tried to hit on me, but he’s like twenty years my senior, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but he’s definitely not my type.”

  “He hits on you?”

  “Yeah…” she says, sounding a little frustrated. Emely is gorgeous and single but not for lack of men lining at her door. Her relationship status is a personal choice.

  Pulling into the parking lot, I transfer the call from the speaker system in the car to my phone.

  “What’d you do?”

  “Ignore it, like I always do. Anyway,” she says changing the topic, “We sealed the deal, so I’m officially handling his account. Work gave me a pretty nice bonus for landing them, so what do you think about getting away this coming weekend?”

  I shut the car off and mull over her offer. “I don’t think I can head out for a weekend just yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “What if they need something at the school?” I ask.

  “You’re an elementary school principal not a first responder. They’ll survive.” Even if they would, it just feels too rushed to take a weekend trip when I’m still trying to figure out what I’m doing. I don’t think I bought enough groceries last weekend. There are a few things to repair around the house. I need to buy more clothes. There’s too much going on to take a break.

  “This is true, but I have a lot of school events coming up, so I just want to settle in properly before leaving again.”

  “Wow. At first you didn’t want to go there and now you don’t want to leave,” she says, reminding me of my hesitance to come here in the first place.

  Exiting the car, I lock it and start walking toward the front door. “I really like my job.”

  “That’s good to hear,” she says and I can sense the relief in her voice. “Here’s what I’ll do. Instead of us going elsewhere for a weekend, I’ll come to you.” That’s a much better idea.

  “I’d love that! I miss you so much and I can’t wait to see you.” I enter the school and wave at a few of the teachers I see making their way to their respective classrooms.

  “You better miss me, I’m your best freaking friend after all. Let me confirm with my boss and then I’ll let you know.”

  “Awesome, I can’t wait to see you. Anyway, I’ve gotta—”

  “You’ve gotta go,” she says, finishing my sentence.

  “Duty calls.”

  “You’re taking this waaaay too seriously,” she jokes.

  “It’s an important job.”

  “Educating our future,” she says, quoting a phrase I’d tell her at least once a day when we talked about why I was majoring in education.

  “Alright. Go make sure our future is in good hands. I’ll call you later.”

  I go for one last dig because I can’t help it. It’s fun poking my best friend. “And by later you mean a week!”

  “Stop it!” she retorts.

  “Bye!” I say hanging up the call.

  When I get to the principal’s office, Hannah isn’t at her desk yet. I head straight into my office and take off my coat, hanging it on the rack. Then, I take a seat at my desk and my phone vibrates with an incoming text seconds later.

  Emely: Drama queen. Maybe you should’ve gone into acting.

  Me: I’ll consider that for when I retire.

  Emely: **Rolls Eyes** Bye.

  Me: Love you too.

  Emely: Always.

  I love my best friend. I can’t stress that enough. She’s been in my life for ten years now. She knows my every fear, my every dream and wish. She knows when I’m angry or happy. When I need her to just listen or when I need her to talk me out of something stupid.

  She knows me so well that she didn’t bother to ask about him and I appreciate her so much more for it than she will ever realize.

  8

  CHRISTIAN

  I arrive at my new job feeling more refreshed and energized than I’ve felt in years. Even though it’s only been one week, the team is doing better and so am I. I haven’t been the miserable asshole I typically am, even Nigel told me this over drinks last Friday. It’s crazy what getting back to the football field, the place where I excelled at college, does to a person’s mood.

  I’m not playing professional football, but at least I’m not painting other people’s houses for a living. That’s not a knock on people who do, it’s a profitable profession that some enjoy, but it wasn’t what I wanted.

  I’ve always wanted a football in my hand. I wanted to call the plays. To execute the game. To be on the field. I always felt invincible when I was there. Felt like I was on top of the world. While I don’t have that exact feeling, it’s pretty close.

  Coach Cole is not a title I envisioned myself carrying, at least not this early in my career, but I will embrace the crap out of it. This team hasn’t won a championship in a long time and I’m trying to figure out how to change that. I’ve got something to prove and all these kids do too. I can tell they want to win. They’re thirsty for a championship trophy. They want to end the drought.

  Many of them expressed to me their desire to make a splash so that colleges look at them. I’ll try my hardest to give them the opportunity that I ruined for myself, the chance to go to college. To play professional football. To follow their dreams.

  I had to abandon mine.

  I don’t regret it because I have Ari and she’s my world.

  If there’s one thing I wish I didn’t have it would be memories. As I walk by the halls, I can’t help but remember the past. Remember every kiss stolen from her lips. Every hello and goodbye. Walking by her locker, I’m reminded of the first day I felt her staring at me as I walked by. The words she shared with her best friend that she thought I couldn’t hear.

  This school reminds me of what I lost every day. I guess that’s sort of my punishment. I deserve that. I make my way to the locker room. I’m here before the assistant coaches because I want to finish typing up the notes on the players I’ve been observing. I want to come up with a plan. I also want to figure out the practice schedule. I gotta prepare if we want to win.

  Reaching the door to the locker room, my mind recalls the many times she waited eagerly for me to step out after each game. She always had a smile on her face and pride in her eyes. She made me want to go back and play the game over and over again.

  She was too good for you, my mind tells me, but it’s not like I’ve forgotten. Me not being good enough for her was a pill I swallowed the moment we started dating and every day since then. It’s why I tried to be the best boyfriend I could be. But there wasn’t much I could do to come back from what I’d done.

  Nothing could salvage it. Us.

  I couldn’t keep lying to myself thinking I could somehow be good for her.

  I had to be good to her... And to do that, I had to let her go.

  After I finally shook those thoughts out of my hea
d, I got to work. I went into my office and started getting things ready. I filled out my calendar. Between scheduling practices, extra practices, film time, game time, and everything in between, there were no empty spaces left.

  With a full week under my belt, I had a chance to look at all of our players. I watched their every move, analyzing them. I wrote notes about their weaknesses and strengths. I had a personalized plan for most of them by the end of last week. Six days was not nearly enough time to make a plan for all of them, so that’s the next task on my list. Looking down at my calendar, I look at where I’ve circled our first game. Two weeks. Two weeks until we face our first opponent. Two weeks for this team to be championship ready and they will be. Their success is my success and I’ve lost enough in my life already to keep on losing.

  I look down at my watch. The guys don’t get out of class for another hour, which means I’ve spent six hours getting things ready. My daughter should be getting out of school around the same time the guys will be piling into the locker room.

  I decide to give Mom a call and remind her to pick up Ari. I used to be able to pick her up every day, but with conflicting practice times, that’s something I can’t do anymore. The phone rings for a few seconds before she picks up. “Hey,” she answers.

  “Hi Mom, I was just calling to remi—” she cuts me off.

  “To remind me to pick up Ari from school at 2:30,” she finishes.

  “Exactly.”

  “I remember. I once had a kid too, you know.”

  “Yeah yeah, I just wanted to make sure you didn’t forget.”

  “I won’t leave my grandbaby stranded. You worry about getting Bragan High it’s next championship and I’ll worry about picking her up every day.”

  “Thanks again for taking care of that. I’ll pay someone to do it soon,” I tell her. I’m grateful for her help, but retirement is supposed to be about her resting, not taking over my responsibilities. I just need a little more time to save some extra money before I can pay a babysitter.

  “Pay someone!?! Absolutely not. This job is the best thing that’s happened to me. I get to spend more time with Ari. You will not be paying someone to do something I want to do.”

  “You say that now, but eventually you’re going to want to just rest.” She needs rest. My mom’s been working hard for too long.

  “I’ll rest when I’m dead.”

  “Don’t say that!”

  “It happens to all of us. Anyway, I gotta run a couple errands before pickup, so I’ll let you go for now.”

  “Alright, thanks again, Ma.”

  “Of course. You may be a man, but you’ll always be my baby and that child of yours is my child too.”

  I realize that there’s another call on the line when the sound interrupts the conversation with my mom. I look at the caller ID and realize it’s Ari’s school calling. My stomach drops immediately. They never call me. “Ma, I gotta go.” I don’t even bother telling her why.

  I hang up on her before she has a chance to say goodbye and pick up the call on the other line. “Hi, could I speak with Christian Cole please?” A woman’s voice says from the other end of the line.

  She sounds too serious, like she’s about to tell me something I won’t like. “This is he. What’s going on?”

  “Hi, this is Hannah Robles calling, I’m the assistant here at Bragan Elementary. We need you to come over to the school,” she says, ending her sentence there like that’s enough information. I feel my heartbeat increase as a fear for my child’s safety creeps within.

  “Is Ari okay?” I ask getting up from my desk and grabbing my coat. I feel for my keys in my jacket pocket and rush out the door.

  I run right out of the school as I wait for the woman on other end of the line to answer my damn question. Why is she taking so long?

  “She was just involved in an altercation.”

  All air leaves me in one breath. “Altercation?” I repeat, trying to figure out what the hell she means by that. My daughter isn’t the kind of kid to get into any fights. Any trouble whatsoever.

  “Is she okay?!” I ask again, hoping she gives me a less coy answer.

  “She is. She was the aggressor in this case.” Aggressor? Ari doesn’t fight. We talked about this last week when we clarified that for her being a fighter meant not giving up.

  “She got physical with one of the other kids during recess.”

  I wish this damn woman would stop speaking in code and would just tell me exactly what it is that took place. “What happened?” I press, tired of picking up the crumbs she leaves behind and ready for her to give me the entire story.

  “It might be better if you just come in. The principal would like to talk to you.”

  I feel a headache start to form in the back of my head. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  Luckily for me, this town likes to keep the schools together and so my daughter is just around the corner. I get in the car anyway and five minutes later, I’m pulling into the parking lot of Bragan Elementary School.

  Before stepping out of the car, and now that I know Ari is physically okay, I make sure to text the assistant coach to let him know that I’ll be coming in a few minutes after practice has started. I hate to be late to work, but my daughter is my priority.

  I wrack my brain for reasons why Ari would get physical with someone.

  Maybe the call she knew I had with her mother upset her.

  Maybe I missed some signals or signs that she wasn’t okay.

  Maybe I screwed up.

  Ari’s different than me. She’s better.

  She has my eyes and other physical features, but in all other ways, she couldn’t be more different. She’s a genius for her six years of age. She’s responsible. Caring. Loving.

  She’s all the good parts of life mixed together.

  Stepping out of the car, I take the same path I’ve taken numerous times before to the principal’s office. Except this time, it’s not me who’s in trouble, it’s my kid.

  9

  AMARI

  Emely sends me a few more messages, but eventually I get her to stop talking to me. Somehow, despite me believing I wasn’t going to be able to get through it, I sign off on the last expense for the day—the trip to the zoo.

  While there’s more work for me to get done, I decide to take a second to breathe. Sitting comfortably on my chair, I rest my head on the desk. Half a second later, a knock on the door followed by the door opening startles me.

  “Hey Hannah!” I greet her, trying to sound as awake as possible. I don’t want to be accused of sleeping on the job, which isn’t what I was doing anyway. I was just resting my eyes for a little while because I’ve read through too many proposals and my vision is starting to get all weird. I also skipped my lunch break, so technically, laying my head on my desk could be it.

  Hannah waves. “So, I called the father of the little girl, Ari, that kicked the boy in the playground earlier,” she tells me, reminding me of the one thing I’d forgotten to add to my list.

  Not only did I have to do paperwork all day, but now I have to play the role of enforcer. The bad guy. I have to talk to the little girl and then talk to her dad to make sure everything’s alright at home and that he’s aware of what happened. In the past, I’d typically let the principal do the dirty job for me. This is karma for every conflict I avoided.

  “Okay. And you said she just kicked the boy?” I ask again, making sure I know all the facts.

  Hannah nods. Back when I was in elementary school, a long time ago, that wasn’t enough of a reason to call a parent. But apparently, this school has a no-tolerance policy on ‘violence.’ I guess it is violence, it just seems like something we should be able to handle without needing a parent to come in. Then again, I’m not a parent and I’m sure if I were, I’d want to know and be here to talk to my child and figure out what happened.

  “Where is she?” I ask, ready to get this over with.

  Hannah points behind her. �
��She’s waiting just outside the door.”

  “Is the other kid okay?” I ask, realizing I didn’t bother to check on him. I’ll remember to do that after I talk to the little girl and her father.

  “Yes. He’s in class right now. Do you want us to bring him in too?”

  “Not right now. Let me talk to her first. I’ll talk to him after. Do we need to call in his parents too?” I ask. I don’t know what the protocol is.

  “I’ll be on the lookout for his parents when they come to pick him up and let them know what happened. Do you want me to let Ari in?” At least I don’t have to talk to two sets of parents.

  “Awesome, thank you. And yes, please let her in.” Hannah nods. She walks out of my office and seconds later I watch her come back inside with a little girl in tow. She’s got long blonde hair, caramel colored eyes, and tears on her cheeks.

  “Hi,” I tell her, rounding my desk so that she doesn’t feel like there’s a barrier between us.

  When I reach her, I lower to her level to make sure she’s not intimidated by me. “Don’t cry. We’ll figure this out,” I tell her the moment I see tears streaming down her face.

  “I’ll be outside if you need me. I’ll let you know when her dad is here,” Hannah says, walking out once again.

  “Thanks, Ms. Robles,” I say and wait for her to walk out the door before trying to speak to the little girl again.

  “You called my dad?” Ari asks, her eyes opening wide.

  “We had to. You kicked someone during recess at the playground.” I should’ve asked Hannah for the name of the kid Ari kicked. Her dad will likely want to know too.

  “It was his fault,” the little girl says immediately as she takes the seat in front of my desk. I walk the short distance and take the chair to the left of hers. I rearrange the chair so it’s facing her, then I try my hand at figuring out what’s going on.

  “It was his fault that you kicked him?” I say, a look of confusion likely visible on my face.