The other man just nodded, but at that point his eyes were wandering lazily around the room, like he had more important things to do.
“Well, it was lovely meeting you, Kade,” he said, reaching his hand out to him. “I have a meeting to head to right now, but I’m looking forward to seeing you here again.”
His footsteps loud, and echoing at first, had faded into nothingness, and the room had fallen silent again. “Well, it’s definitely crazy meeting you here.” Kade slumped down on one of the leather chairs and pulled his suit together.
“Remember our last conversation on graduation day? When you told me I should run for judge?”
Kade’s face came to a smile. “Yeah, I remember.”
“Well, there you have it,” he spread his arms out to his sides to show off his robe. “You know, if it weren’t for you, I probably wouldn’t have gone through with it.”
“Really? I was that much of an influential eighteen-year-old?” Kade asked with his eyebrows furrowed. Mr. Guffaw nodded solemnly.
“You know, in all my years of adulthood, I think the smartest thing I’ve done so far is go into teaching.”
“And what about all this?” Kade asked, bringing his hands together above his head and parting them in the shape of an arc.
“This, this is what I’m meant to do. But teaching helped me realize that.” He paused for a moment, clearing his throat. “Our society treats kids like they have no agency, like their thoughts are somehow incomplete. But I keep realizing, over and over again, that children tend to view the world in the most daring ways, you know why?”
“Because they’re naive?”
“No, it’s because they haven’t been exposed to the rules yet. Their opinions are unscathed by them, I think it’s brilliant.”
Kade thought a little about what he said. He thought about Ava, what she must’ve been doing right now. He wondered if she was getting along well with the other kids, if she was mad at him for not dropping her off on her first day. His eyes wandered lazily around the room, until they landed on Mr. Guffaw again.
“You letting that thought sink in?” he asked him.
“Yeah, I’m thinking about my daughter,” Kade told him. “It’s her first day of school today.”
“What, you have a daughter?” the man asked, slumping down on the chair across from him. He stroked his chin for a while, as if in deep contemplation. “Wow, time flies, huh? I’m getting old.” For a while he seemed to get lost in the shapes and patterns created by the stained glass, but then suddenly he snapped out of it. “What’s her name?”
“Her name is Ava, she’s three,” Kade said. The silence descended over them like a heavy rain cloud; Mr. Guffaw was lost in nostalgia, while Kade was drowning in some thoughts of his own.
“So the three of you guys only recently moved here, right?”
“It’s just me and Ava right now,” Kade said through clenched teeth.
“Divorced?”
“No, Ava’s mother died in a car accident a little over a year ago.”
Mr. Guffaw’s jaw dropped a little to reveal a bottom row of jagged teeth. He was a heavy smoker; often a teenaged Kade would catch him on the school’s fire escape, taking one last drag from his cigarette before putting it out. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he whispered before pivoting uneasily in his chair.
“I wouldn’t know what to say, either,” Kade said, his hands clutched in his lap. “Whenever I tell anyone about this, they never know what to say. They just stare at me with pity. That’s what they do.”
“That’s the only thing they can do,” Mr. Guffaw said. “Tell me, has time been treating you well?”
“It could be better,” he replied. “Ava’s constantly getting these nightmares. I don’t know how to get them to stop.” Kade rarely talked about his family anymore, in fact he hadn’t talked to anyone about Scarlett’s death in a long time. But there was something about Mr. Guffaw -perhaps it was his kind eyes or the way that his words flowed like a waterfall- that made Kade want to open up to him, to reveal his greatest secrets, his sorrows, to empty himself to him. “It’s weird because … she was really young when it happened, there’s no way that she could possibly remember.”
“Where was she that day, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Ava was with me. We were both home, and I was watching a movie. Scarlett was-” He paused for a moment, trying to ignore the lump that was slowly rising in his throat. “Scarlett was at her friend’s bachelorette party. She said she’d be running late. She told me not to wait up.”
“You know, you really don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to,” Mr. Guffaw said, clasping and unclasping his fingers.
“No, it’s ok. I haven’t talked about it in ages now; I need to relive it, so I can let it go.”
The judge nodded and leaned back in his chair. He felt more like a therapist now -- something he had also considered but decided against because it brought him more grief than joy.
“So, I tell her to go have a good time with her friends, then she calls me telling me that she’s leaving now. I ask her if she had been drinking, she said no. She was perfectly sober when it happened.” Kade gulped in the air and let it out through his nose. He closed his eyes and pictured that day for what it was; atrocious and unfair in so many ways. “Then two hours later I got a call from some local policemen. Scarlett had been driving down the highway when a semi lost control and smashed into her.”
“Oh, God.”
“It wasn’t her fault, it was someone else’s. I’ll never know what that other driver was thinking, I don’t even know if he’s alive right now. He was probably drunk and she wasn’t. Scarlett was a responsible person but that other driver, he can go to hell.”
Mr. Guffaw’s eyes glazed over, he bit the inside of his cheeks so he didn’t cry. Kade’s face, on the other hand, had no trace of tears, not in his eyes or in the track marks on his reddening cheeks. His eyes were narrowed, rigid, cold, hard. In that moment Mr. Guffaw knew he was already far away. “Hey, are you sure you want to go on talking about this?”
“Yes,” Kade said with frightening certainty. “So, I get to the hospital and I realize that she’s gone; her car flipped over three times and skidded to the side of the road. Meanwhile, Ava was asleep at home, she wasn’t there for any of it. So how could it be that she’s having nightmares about it every single day? Do you have an answer to that? Because I don’t.”
“You know, Kade, the memory works in mysterious ways. You know what the human mind does? It fills in the gaps, it connects the dots, so the world can make sense.”
“So, do you think Ava just made that stuff up in her head?”
“Well, it obviously happened. She understood the story the way that it was told to her, and then her mind filled in the gaps. Our minds, they work in mysterious ways.”
Kade wished that he was as eloquent as his mentor. He wished he wasn’t so angry so his words could flow better. Kade wished for a lot of things, but for now, he was content with what he had.
“You’re right, you’re absolutely right,” he said after a long pause. “Anyway, I’m sorry if I bummed you out with my rambling.”
“You didn’t bum me out, son,” Mr. Guffaw said. A warmth radiated through Kade’s chest; he gleamed at the realization that this man was sort of like a father to him, and even though the two of them had been apart for years, he still cared about him as though he were family.
“Anyway, I should probably get to work, shouldn’t I?” Kade rose to his feet. “I’m actually ashamed for having sat here for the past hour ranting about my life.”
“It’s alright, it’s your first day, isn’t it? Now-” He shot up from his seat, more enthusiastically this time. “Let’s get down to business. And who knows, maybe one day I’ll pass this on to you.” He popped the collar of his gown, spun around and headed for the door. Kade followed him, smiling to himself, wishing he had caught that on tape. “And you know what, we need to talk a bit mo
re, so how about we meet up for lunch later this week?”
“Sounds great,” Kade said with his hands stuffed into his pockets. The two men exchanged goodbyes and parted ways; Kade headed up the steps again, taking them two at a time, gulping in the air, promising himself good things.
Chapter Four
“Put on your seatbelt, sweet Ava,” Mrs. Carlson said, slipping into the driver’s seat. Ava just sat there with a confused look on her face. “Hey, hasn’t Daddy taught you how to put on your seatbelt?”
“Nu-uh,” she said, shaking her head in protest. Mrs. Carlson let out a frustrated sigh. “He does it for me everytime, he says it’s safer that way.”
“Well, you’re a spoiled little girl, I’ll tell you that.”
Ava frowned and folded her arms across her chest. She pouted disapprovingly, as if to say, I want my daddy. Mrs. Carlson was a stubborn woman; she raised Kade to be independent, or at least she tried to. Ava wiggled around in her seat, threw a tantrum, kicked at the air as her grandma tried to put her seatbelt on for her. Mrs. Carlson clenched her jaw, just like her son did when he was frustrated, and then brushed her fingers through the little girl’s hair.
“Hey, it’s going to be okay,” she whispered gently. “Just a few more hours and Daddy will come pick you up.”
“Do I have to go back there tomorrow?” she asked, her eyes swelling up with a glassy layer of tears.
“Well, yes, but we don’t have to think about that now,” Mrs. Carlson said before driving off. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, scoffing at her disheveled hair and heavy-hooded eyes. Her teeth were jagged and all of her happiness had manifested itself into laugh lines; deep down she had hoped for a more beautiful manifestation, but for now, she settled for this. Despite her hardships she was a happy woman, a strong woman, one that found peace in all her decisions. And she hoped her son would do the same.
At age sixty-three she still went drinking with her friends, took midnight drives, and danced at sports bars. But she also biked on cold mornings and drank coconut milk out of a carton. Kade thought she was irrational or even insane, but she begged to differ, claiming that her irrational nature made her happy.
As she drove down the winding road she admired Livingston just like she did everyday. The road stretched onward, hugging the land, taking each turn in easy stride. It was a grey that has welcomed many suns, become silvery as it soaked in the rays. Mrs. Carlson let her eyes run over each hue, seeing imperfections for the first time, yet feeling that as details created by an artistic hand, they rendered it all the more beautiful.
“Why, won’t you look at that!” she said, turning to Ava. The sun had risen over the horizon, hanging majestically over everything. For the first time since Ava came here, there was a glimmer in her eyes. She stared out the window, and when Mrs. Carlson rolled it down for her, she closed her eyes and let the breeze come over her face. She smiled at the mountains, and had probably forgotten all about her troubles, at least for now. It wasn’t long before Mrs. Carlson pulled over, parked her car, and turned to her granddaughter again.
“So, you ready?”
Ava raised her eyes to her, and then nodded solemnly.
“Alright then, great.” The two of them walked side by side, climbed up the stairs to the school and then headed for Ava’s classroom. “Well, would you look at that,” Mrs. Carlson said, eyeing the decorative halls. She went up the last flight of stairs slowly, stopping every once in a while to catch her breath while Ava skipped up the last few steps. “Is that your teacher?” she asked, smiling at Bria, who smiled back timidly. “Sorry we’re late, it’s been a busy morning.”
“Oh, that’s okay. It’s still the first day,” Bria said, her eyes fixated on Ava. “Well, what’s your name?”
Ava turned around and buried her face in her grandmother’s legs. “Her name is Ava,” Mrs. Carlson said. “Sorry, she’s a little shy around strangers.”
Bria froze, then her eyes went hovering around everywhere, jumping from wall to wall until she noticed that Mrs. Carlson had been staring at her. “It’s okay, we’ll make sure she’s comfortable,” she said, smiling weakly. “You’re such a pretty girl, Ava.”
“I know, she looks just like her father. I’m Carol, by the way.”
“Great meeting you, Carol,” Bria said, shaking hands with her and then looking down at Ava again. She had a tiny body and a pair of curious blue eyes that stopped at nothing; Bria couldn’t stop looking at her because she reminded her a bit too much of Kade. She wondered where he was, and even though she was a bit relieved, a part of her was disappointed she didn’t get to see him. She wondered about him a lot and the fact that he now had a daughter honestly blew her mind.
“You want to go play with the other kids?” she asked her, but she turned around again and latched onto her grandmother’s leg.
“Come on, you see those kids over there? They’re playing tic tac toe … you love tic tac toe!”
Ava blinked at them, her lips twitching to a smile. She then peered up at her grandma and tugged at her jeans. “Come on, go ahead!” she encouraged her. Without uttering another word, Ava scurried over, joining the other kids at one of the tables. “Oh, thank God,” Carol said, breathing a sigh of relief. “She hasn’t slept all night, the poor thing.”
“Oh, why is that?” Bria asked, her hand flying to her chest.
“Well, it’s a long story. Care to hear it?”
Bria nodded, eager to hear.
“Well, she’s been having these nightmares, so she’s having a hard time falling asleep. Actually, we all are.” Carol smiled to herself and shifted her weight to one leg. “She wakes up screaming in the middle of the night; it’s usually her dad that comforts her.”
“Oh, did her dad show up today, by any chance?” Bria asked, trying to be subtle but failing miserably.
“He had to work, today’s his first day at his new job. I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this.”
“That’s okay,” Bria said. Back in high school, she had always wanted to meet Kade’s mother, but he never let her because he thought it would have been weird. Now there she was, standing in front of her in flip flops and a sun dress in fifty-degree weather. “I like to listen.”
“That’s why you became a teacher?” Carol asked, rather sarcastically. Bria thought that Kade probably had her wit, but then again she thought she was overselling him. After all, she hadn’t seen or talked to him in almost ten years now, how could she have possibly known if he grew up to be a man, let alone a witty one?
“Yeah well, I talk a lot, too,” she said finally.
“Wow, I wish my son was more of a talker,” Carol said, her eyes fixated somewhere over Bria’s shoulder. “He’s a quiet one.”
Some things never change, Bri thought to herself. “Is Ava quiet, too?”
“Not really, I don’t think you can tell yet. But she’s a sad little girl, she needs a little bit of cheering up.”
“That’s too bad,” Bria said, turning to look at her. By now she had retreated to the far end of the classroom, watching the other kids play. Bri motioned towards the game tables, but she shook her head once again, pouted and looked the other way.
“She looks just like her dad,” Carol said, her voice permeating Bria’s consciousness. She had gotten lost in Ava’s features, which were basically a tinier, less sculpted version of her father’s. She wondered if she even remembered Kade all that well, or if her mind was playing tricks on her. “Anyway, I have to go now. You’ll take care of her, alright?”
“That’s sort of my job,” Bri said, forcing a smile. “You take care now.”
Carol held her hand out, spun on her heel and then headed down the stairs. For a while Bria just stood there, her head full of white noise. Alright, Bri, time to do your thing, she thought to herself before strolling back inside.
Bria really didn’t know what was coming for her when she went back into that classroom. Ava had managed to cling to her all day, asking her q
uestions, giving her those puppy-dog eyes that reminded her of Kade so much.
“Let me ask you a tough question,” Bria said, getting up on one of the chairs. “Does anyone here like Math?”
Her eyes sailed across the room, until they landed on Ava’s wiggling fingers. Her hand was shot up into the air and her eyes were wide open with what looked to Bria like an unquenchable curiosity. “Me!”
“Really? Well, that makes two of us,” she lied. “What do you like about Math?”
Already, she was getting looks from the rest of her classmates, the kind of looks that foreshadowed a future of bullying. “I don’t know,” she shrugged. “It just makes sense.”
“That’s right!” Bria said. “Math makes sense, that’s why the world is full of it!”
The silver of her eyes lit up and her face came to a smile. She stomped her feet a bunch of times and then clasped her hands together in pure excitement; Bria couldn’t help but see Kade in her every move. It was almost freaky.
Which was why Ava latched onto her for the rest of the day. The other kids had apparently alienated her, which made Bria wonder what the hell she did wrong. All she did was recognize her. I was just being nice, okay? she thought to herself, already questioning her teaching methods. She had been doing this for years now; not once had she encounterd a toddler tribe, or so she called it. Everytime she would ask a question Ava’s hand would shoot up in the air and she would jump up and down enthusiastically, dying to take a shot at the right answer.
“Alright, you guys, it’s time for your lunch break,” she said, flicking her wrist and checking the time. The kids all got up in unison and moved like a flock towards the door, squeezing past one another and scurrying out into the hallway. Bria brushed her fingers through her hair, and then she saw Ava, sitting at her desk still. “Aren’t you gonna eat with the other kids?”
She picked up her bag, unzipped it, and stuffed her hand inside. “Daddy’s packed my lunch!” she said, gleaming. Bria felt a warmth radiate through to her chest. She could only picture Kade standing at the kitchen counter, making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. She imagined him doing it shirtless, too.
Second Chances Page 3
