The One I'm With

by Jamie Bennett

  “Lay-Me, what did you do now?”

  I looked up from Felix to see his mom, Coco, glaring down angrily.

  “Why is he crying? What did you do to him?” she demanded.

  I stood, bringing Felix to his feet also. “He’s upset because he thought that Marilyn had forgotten him,” I explained, ignoring the accusation and the name-calling.

  “Marilyn got sick somehow and disrupted the whole day. Now I have to deal with her being in the hospital and I can’t find anyone to fill in.”

  Felix picked up his tearstained face. “Marilyn is in the hospital?” he quavered. “Is she going to die?”

  Coco snorted. “That would be just my luck. No, she hurt her gall bladder or something stupid like that. Let’s go, Felix. You’re going to wait in the studio lobby while I do yoga.”

  “Coco, he could go to aftercare, if you want,” I suggested, foreseeing disaster with her yoga plan.

  “I’m already here and I already canceled my pedicure to do this. He’s coming with me, and you should keep your ideas to yourself, Lay-Me,” she told me, and grabbed her son’s arm. “Let’s go.” Still bawling and now being dragged, Felix left with his mother, and I turned to Eve. What a fine way to welcome this new family to our school.

  “She’s a bitch,” Eve commented.

  “She’s…we…”

  “Are all the moms like that here? They were pretty bad at the kids’ old schools.”

  “Oh, no,” I assured her. “There are a lot of really nice parents. You’ll meet some of the other moms…uh, you’re Jonah’s…?” I trailed off.

  She explained their somewhat complicated family situation to me, and filled me in on Jonah and his cousin, Chloe. The more she said, like how if anyone hurt the kids, she was kicking ass first and taking names later, the more I liked her.

  “I think Jonah is going to really like it here,” I told her. “It’s such a sweet class.”

  “Like that kid, the one who kicked the shit out of your shin?” Eve looked at me doubtfully.

  “Usually he’s fine,” I tried to excuse him. Mostly he was. Sometimes.

  Eve nodded like she didn’t believe me. “Does he kick other kids? I don’t want to have to tangle with that bitch mom, but if the kid kicks Jonah, we’re going to have a problem.”

  “No, never. Only me,” I assured her, and she laughed.

  “Lucky! Hey, what did that woman call you? I thought your name was Lanie.”

  I blushed. “It is. Lanie March,” I answered firmly, my jaw tightening. We talked for a few more minutes about life in Marin County and then Jonah and his dad appeared, with Jonah saying if he didn’t have a snack soon, he thought he might die. The three of them left together, holding hands, and I watched them, rubbing my shin.

  I was doing that later as I stood at the stove. “Hi,” Brooks called from the living room. I heard Maisie go into a snuffling fit in her happiness at his arrival. He walked into the kitchen and set down a bag. “I was in the city for meetings, so I got some bread at a bakery I always liked.”

  I glanced down at the big bag of crusty loaves as I stirred my soup. “It looks like we’re going to carb load. Sounds good to me.”

  “We are. Why are you standing on one leg?”

  I told him about my day, which I really enjoyed doing. I didn’t usually download everything like that. Brooks listened, sitting at the table with Maisie asleep on his foot, and his main comment was that I couldn’t let kids kick me.

  “I’m not letting him,” I said. “It happens fast.” I sighed. “Yes, ok, I know. I’m going to have to tell on him to the principal.” I sighed again, because that probably meant we would have another meeting with Coco. “How was your day? What did you do in the city?”

  Brooks got an odd look on his face. “I had lunch with a guy I knew from college to get his advice. Then I had a meeting. Investors.”

  “Do you mean my mom?” I asked, and he nodded a little. “How is she?” We hadn’t spoken since she had gotten back, which was unusual.

  “Fine.”

  “That’s it? Fine?”

  “She seemed just the same as she always is.” I looked back at him again, but he was staring at the dog. “We had a meeting, we discussed what we’re doing next. What I’m doing next.”

  I turned, spoon in my hand. “So it’s going well?”

  “Sure. Yeah, going well. It’s fine.” He still had the funny look.

  “Did she, um, ask about me?”

  “I told her you had moved in here and were doing well.” He stood, dislodging Maisie from his foot. “I’ll take her for a walk,” he told me, and started to go out the way he came as I watched him. But then he stopped. “Can you leave what’s on the stove and come?”

  I felt myself smile. “Sure.”

  Maisie got down the front steps and out to the sidewalk and then turned to me, waiting to be picked up. “We’re walking,” Brooks told her sternly. “You’re wearing your walking outfit.” I had Velcroed it on her, a very jaunty, puffy jacket, just like Ava and Coco wore. Maisie could carry it off, too. She turned to me with her sad, protruding eyes.

  “No, you need the exercise,” I agreed.

  “She hid in my swim bag at the pool this morning,” he commented, tugging gently on her leash. Angrily, she walked past us. “She ate a pair of broken goggles.” She had ridden to the pool with Brooks on his bike.

  “You wouldn’t really make her go in the water, would you? Aren’t there health codes?”

  “I’m holding it over her head as a threat,” he told me, and I laughed. I thought that I should take up swimming, maybe, although I had generally sunk like a stone or flailed like I was drowning.

  “Remember swimming in Lake Tahoe?” I asked him. Brooks had held me so I could go out deep with him and his sisters, who also swam like fish.

  “I do,” he told me. “And also Kauai, where you scraped your head on the sand on the bottom and I had to pull you out of the waves while my sisters freaked out.”

  “Oh, yeah! I remember that now.” I had bled all over the beach and Zara had gagged and run away. Scarlett had been mad about some blood getting on her bathing suit.

  “It’s Scarlett’s engagement party this weekend,” Brooks reminded me. “She’s been more focused on this party than on the fact that she’s actually supposed to get married to Mats.”

  I looked sideways at him. “Don’t you like him?”

  “He’s fine, I guess. I don’t know him very well, and I don’t see any grand love affair between them, but I guess Scarlett likes him ok.”

  “That sounds awful,” I blurted out. “I don’t think you should get married to someone you just ‘like ok.’”

  “I thought you were devoting your life to Maisie, anyway.” He nudged me.

  My pulse sped up, either with him touching me, or with the discussion of marriage with Brooks standing so near. “Oh, I am. You can see how she needs it.” Maisie had slowed and was huffing along behind us, trying to stop every few feet, but Brooks was much more of a taskmaster than I was and he wouldn’t let her.

  “Who are you taking to the party?” he asked. “Who’s your plus-one?”

  “What?” My racing heart stopped at these words. “Wait, who are you going with?”

  “Did you know Rosanna Moreau? She went to Northpointe Prep but I think you two graduated the same year.”

  “I guess,” I said, but yes, of course I remembered Rosanna. She had been a track star, featured in the newspaper for her sportsmanship, long-limbed and gorgeous and smart. Perfect for Brooks.

  “I ran into her when I was back for my grandmother’s will revision before Christmas and we’re going together,” he told me. “She’s working on her doctorate in public health and working in epidemiology. She travels with a medical team to developing countries and warzones. It’s amazing.”

  “Yes, she sounds incredible,” I said bleakly, picturing the two of them together. Shit. And what was I going to do about a date? Of course I needed a plus
-one. What had I been planning, to sneak into the party and spend a few minutes on the dance floor so my mom saw me, then get out as fast as I could?

  Yes, exactly that.

  “What about you?” he asked again.

  What about me? Was I going to go alone, watching Brooks and his beautiful, accomplished date? “You don’t know him,” I heard myself say. This would have been the perfect time for an earthquake. Any seismic activity welcomed. Immediately. Now.

  “Is this a boyfriend?” He looked kind of amused. “I can’t believe I don’t know this about you.”

  I didn’t know it about myself, so it was a real shock to everyone. “I guess you’ll meet him at Scarlett’s party,” I said evasively. I guessed that maybe we all would.

  Shit.

  Chapter 7

  Jolie made a funny noise and I looked up from my salad. “Don’t,” I warned her. “Don’t you dare laugh.”

  She nodded, staring down at her own lunch tray. But her shoulders were shaking.

  “Jolie!”

  I had said it too loudly. Various heads swiveled to look down the teachers’ table at us, including Mrs. Rosse’s. I could hear her loud sniff.

  “I know I shouldn’t have lied to Brooks about having a date,” I whispered, “but what was I supposed to say when he asked me?”

  Jolie calmed down. “No, you’re right. You would have seemed totally lame and undesirable if you admitted that even your mom didn’t want to go with you.”

  “Thanks a ton.”

  “You know what I mean.” She waved her fork a little, thinking. “Ok, so, we need to find someone for you. Single guys, single guys…yeah, drawing a blank. You know I’m not running around with the young and fun crowd lately, unless you mean second graders. Not one name springs to my mind, anyone acceptable, at least. The only guy who we could probably get is my brother from Douglas City, if he would be able to tear himself away from developing his new super-strain of pot. Maybe we could even convince him to shower.” But she looked doubtful.

  “No, thanks. As tempting as he sounds.”

  “You and I need to go out and meet some people,” Jolie told me. “It’s a little ridiculous, right? Here we are, two very attractive, sexual women, and we’re alone?” Her voice was rising, and the other teachers were looking again. “I say, let’s get it on!”

  “Jolie, sure, but in a quieter way.”

  She glanced around the table. “I seriously need the lemon-squeezy.” She lowered her voice even more. “I realized how desperate I was when I took batteries out of one of Nola’s toys for my own toy, if you catch my drift. I’m wearing the damn thing out.”

  “Ok, too much information. But you’re right. We should go out and, uh, get it on.”

  She laughed. “Friday after work? My cousin is spending the night at my apartment so I have a built-in sitter. Or are you already going to be in primping mode for the Saturday engagement party?”

  “How long do you think it’s going to take me? How much work am I going to have to put into it?” I was a little offended. She sounded like my mom.

  “Ok, ok! Let’s discuss what you’re going to wear, though.” We did, because Jolie loved clothes. She liked to go through my closet and try things on, even though they were several inches too long on her. Once I had let her enter my mom’s gigantic walk-in and look at everything, which had nearly led to her passing out in happiness.

  After lunch and while my kids were at recess, I finally forced myself to go to the office and recount to the head, Shirley, the story of Felix’s latest kicking incident. Then as I was telling her, by mistake I said that “this time” it hadn’t left much of a bruise, which let her know that it wasn’t the first time he had walloped me one.

  “Lanie, this is very serious,” she told me. “He’s injuring you, and it happened before. Hold on.” She picked up her walkie-talkie and asked Gretchen Rosse to come in from her playground duty.

  Shit. Shit!

  My aide came in and gave me the same dour look that she greeted me with every morning. I looked away.

  “Gretchen, I wanted you to participate in this discussion about Felix von Schaffgotsch,” Shirley said. “Lanie let me know that yesterday after school, he was angry about his late pick-up, and he kicked her in the shin.”

  Gretchen sniffed and nodded. “I’m not surprised. He’s very often not able to control himself. I’m afraid that next he’s going to hurt one of his classmates.”

  “I absolutely won’t let that happen,” I said, kind of furiously. Ok, totally furiously. I was so tired of her undermining me, sniff freaking sniff!

  To my utter shock, Gretchen turned to me very calmly. “But what about out on the playground? You’re not with him there. He does respond very well to you, but not to me or the other aides.”

  “Oh.” Well, yes, I hadn’t thought of that.

  “And if he struck you with an object?” she continued. “I’ve seen that happen. In my second year here, a teacher was cut on the arm with scissors.” She turned to Shirley. “My fear is that his behavior will escalate farther and he’ll do some real damage. She’s able to calm him, and the nanny can too, but the rest of us can’t.”

  Well. That also sounded reasonable. “What’s our next step?” I asked them.

  We talked more and when we left Shirley’s office, I felt like Gretchen and I had experienced a kind of break-through. Yes, I even felt like I could to call her Gretchen instead of Mrs. Rosse. I turned to smile at her. “I really appreciate your input and experience,” I told her.

  She sniffed. “You’re certainly most green teacher I’ve ever been paired with. It shows.”

  And we were back to Mrs. Rosse.

  ∞

  “So who’s the lucky guy tonight?” Brooks asked me. “The same one you’re bringing to Scarlett’s party?”

  I turned away from the window. “What? Oh, no. I’m going out with Jolie.” But if she had anything to do with it, there were going to be some men in our futures. She was determined to hook up with someone that night—she was pretty much in the mindset that she was going home with someone, if it was the last thing she did. I was tagging along to keep an eye on her some and also trying to psyche up into finding a guy for myself, too.

  Looking at Brooks now, in his t-shirt and holding a book, I had serious misgivings. I could make some tea, we could sit together…no, maybe the furnace would break, so it would be cold in the house and we’d snuggle together for warmth. He could read to me from his book, and maybe it was a poetry book. Love poems. Then he would look deeply into my eyes and say—

  “Get out of here.” He smiled

  “What?” I asked, totally flummoxed that our imaginary snuggle on the couch had ended that way.

  “Go on, she’s waiting. Isn’t that your friend, honking her horn in the driveway?”

  “Oh, right. Ok, I’ll see you later. Maybe tomorrow,” I said recklessly, and his eyebrows went up.

  “Have fun,” he told me. I hesitated, wanting to say something more, but then turned and ran out through the rain to Jolie’s car.

  “You ready for sex?” she asked me immediately, the moment I opened the door.

  “If this is you propositioning me, I prefer a little subtlety,” I told her, and shoved my umbrella under the seat. I looked back at the windows of the house, looking for movement, a shadow. Brooks.

  “No offense, Lanie, because you’re really cute and all, but I only want someone with a penis tonight. My standards are low, but that point is non-negotiable.” She pulled down my street fairly quickly. “I have one chance because my only normal cousin is in town staying over. I’ll be back at my apartment, showered and ready, by the time Nola wakes up. It’s the perfect set up so I need to make this happen.”

  “Seriously, you’re just going to go off with anyone?”

  “Seriously, I’m just going to go off with anyone,” she parroted me. “I should say, I’m just going to get off with anyone.” We pulled to a stoplight and she looked across the c
ar at me. “What about you? Maybe you’ll even find someone to bring to the party tomorrow!”

  “We’ll see,” I hedged. I had given up on the idea of an emergency date for the next night when confronted with the possibilities that Jolie and I had come up with: a married teacher who was a pig for stepping out on his wife, a gay teacher who felt sorry enough for me to step in, or Jolie’s pothead brother who didn’t bathe. With those as my options, I had decided that stag was best for Scarlett’s engagement party. I hadn’t mentioned that to Brooks, though.

  “We’ll see,” Jolie agreed. “We’ll see if there’s anybody worth your while, right? And if not, you can do the traditional ‘Oops, I forgot I wasn’t wearing underwear when I bent over to pick up this condom off the floor’ in front of Brooks when you get home.”

  “That’s not anyone’s tradition, and I’m wearing underwear,” I told her.

  “Maybe not for much longer!” she answered gleefully. “We don’t have time to get to San Francisco so we’re going to have to make do at Pijos. We’ll find someone for each of us.” Now she sounded grim and determined, and she leaned forward and set her jaw. “I’m doing this tonight.”

  An hour or so later, it appeared that my underwear was staying firmly in place. There was no one that I found even mildly tempting. The deal was, when I had Brooks at home—I meant, when Brooks was at the home I shared with him, and not that I had him—anyway, it was hard for anyone else to measure up to that. I talked to people and had a drink or two, enough alcohol that I was glad that I hadn’t driven myself, and I had an ok time hanging out with Jolie while she flitted around on hyperdrive. The crowd was very Starhurst-esque, button-down shirts open at the neck indicating after-work fun times, and premium liquor in the cocktails. I saw a few faces that were familiar to me but Jolie and I stuck together and I ignored them.

  Jolie wasn’t going to have the problem of keeping her underwear close, because as she told me, the bar was full of possibilities. She was all over one guy, then the next, but seemed to be having trouble settling down with the person she was going to leave with. Finally she told me she had picked someone. “All right, I have one. Order a car now if you don’t want to stay here and keep looking for someone for yourself. I’m hitting the road with that guy,” she told me, pointing down the bar at a man who stared back at her very, very eagerly.