Sleepless: an outtake from Home

by Cara Dee

  “All right.” I nodded slowly, passing the strip mall and sad little church in Westslope. “What time? Are we bringing anything?”

  “Nine o’clock,” he yawned. “They bring tools and supplies, we bring food.”

  Food, I could handle. I was even hoping to impress Dominic with my fishing skills on Sunday, but I wasn’t the best with a tool belt. I was the misplaced middle child who’d happened to be born first. My mother called me the family pleaser. As a kid because I’d been as infatuated with football—for my dad’s sake—as I’d been with books, to share something with my mother too. Until I graduated from high school. I abandoned sports at that point and didn’t surface from my studies. These days, I was lucky if I made it to the gym once a week. One of Willow’s older brothers ran a fitness center in the Valley, and he donated memberships to anyone who volunteered at the Quad.

  Which reminded me… “At the next meeting, we should suggest the auction. I spoke to Ethan, and he’s willing to donate gym memberships and some classes.”

  “That’s cool.” Dominic scrubbed at his face and faced me. “Henry and Zach’re donating a cruise trip for two.”

  Jesus. “We’re going to have to place a bid or two on that one.” This was what savings were for, and not only were we ridiculously careful with money now, but I’d been involuntarily frugal for years before I met Dominic. Not even with my exes, with whom I’d believed I’d loved so wholly, had I wanted to take regular vacations. The romantic in me had me half convinced I’d been saving because I’d been waiting for him.

  He chuckled tiredly. “Hon, we were just in fucking France.”

  A cruise was entirely different. “It’s impossible to explain without showing you,” I said. “Let’s just say I act my age on a cruise, not this senior citizen I’ve turned into.”

  “Wild.” He grinned.

  “I’m telling you. Give me an umbrella drink, and I even get mildly slutty.”

  He laughed, and I smiled in spite of my self-deprecating humor that held too much truth for my liking. That I carried myself as someone older than my thirty-six was something I’d heard since college. Since meeting Dominic, it’d started bothering me.

  I was a simple man who dreamed of the extraordinary in the ordinary. Let me provide for my family and spend my days with the man I loved, and I’d be set for life. But that was no excuse for forgetting how to have a bit of reckless fun here and there.

  “A cruise, huh?” Dominic slid me a smirk.

  “A cruise.” I nodded as I parked outside Willow’s house. “Maybe one day.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” He looked out the window, then gave my thigh a squeeze. “You wait hea’. I’ll get the monkey.”

  Chapter 3

  Adrian Dalton

  Another Thursday, another sleepless day for Dominic. He couldn’t have been asleep for more than ten minutes when I got up.

  Well, he didn’t have errands today. Hopefully, he landed face first in bed after dropping off Thea. They shouldn’t have left home yet, so on my way into the faculty lounge, I sent him a message, reminding him I’d packed Thea’s lunch for her field trip.

  “Ah, fuck.” I grimaced upon seeing the PE teacher refilling his coffee in the lounge. If there was one man I couldn’t stand in this school, it was him.

  A handful other teachers were here too, and I exchanged a look with Linda, who, with one glance, could convey he was in rare form today. Eye-rolls and sighs were highly expressive.

  Determined not to get into it with him today, I squared my shoulders and joined him in silence to fill up on caffeine.

  “Dalton—mornin’.” He nodded.

  “Good morning.” I watched the black gold fill my mug while he stirred enough creamers into his own coffee to make me question his job at this school. He was possibly the unhealthiest coach I’d ever met.

  “This drug war’s gone too far, hasn’t it? I reckon I flush ten Ritalins a day, and not once have we called the police.”

  Leave it be, leave it be, leave it be.

  “That’s the point of issuing amnesty,” I told him, not leaving it be. I was goddamn hopeless at times. “You don’t think we would have the parents’ cooperation if we had their children arrested, do you?”

  “Well.” He shrugged and sipped his cream. “Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time.”

  My God, I didn’t have the patience for this level of ignorance. “You can’t be so naïve that you believe it’s a matter of choice for these kids.”

  He raised his chin and looked up at me with a bit more venom. “I’m no fool, Dalton. But setting an example is sometimes necessary.”

  “Oh, really.” I set down my mug and folded my arms over my chest. “Who’s going to be the example? Which one of the students are you willing to sacrifice so that the others will supposedly get scared away from dealing?”

  As if that had ever worked.

  “It would be worth it,” he argued. “There’s a saying about this…” If he brought up the trolley problem, I was going to blow a fuse. “If you can sacrifice one to save many—”

  “And we’re done here,” I chuckled darkly. I couldn’t believe he went there. “First of all, there’s no proof in this case you’d actually save anyone. There are, however, years of studies that suggest otherwise. Second of all, these are children. How about we don’t kill off any of them?”

  I shook my head and felt the need to leave before I became uncontrollably livid. The nerve of some people—I couldn’t fucking get over it. Oh yes, let us punish the child who didn’t know better and had no one at home to teach him. Let us do anything but help, because our current system had supported so many.

  “For the record,” I said, “you didn’t answer my question about whom to sacrifice. Before you speak of pulling switches to save the people in the trolley, you’re going to have to put someone on the track.”

  Gathering my messenger bag and my coffee, I walked out of the faculty lounge and heard the moron mutter, “What trolley’s he talking about?”

  It was going to be a terrific day, I could feel it.

  I trailed up to the second floor where my classroom was and tried to shake my temper. When Linda and I had pushed for the drug amnesty, we’d known there would be resistance, though we’d assumed it would be from the parents. We were literally asking for permission to do random checks of lockers and backpacks. But, at the end of the day, we’d won. And in my opinion, this was how we as a community grew stronger, when we didn’t ostracize those who were already society’s outcasts.

  The bell rang as I reached my hall, and soon I was surrounded by students darting back and forth to get to their classes.

  “That one goes in your locker.” I gave a student a pointed look for using his skateboard indoors.

  Spotting Gabe down the hall by his locker, I narrowed my eyes and felt my temper flaring once more. Could he not practice an ounce of discretion? Two girls were clearly buying from him.

  He had his back to me, so it wasn’t difficult to sneak up on him. The girls noticed me first and grew wide-eyed before they scattered off.

  I let out a sharp whistle as I clamped a hand on Gabe’s neck. The girls froze. What were they going to do, never return to school? Most students were in my classroom at one point or another.

  “Get back here right now, ladies.”

  Gabe winced under my grip, and I extended my hand.

  A nice mix of amphetamines. Lovely. I pocketed them.

  “We need it to study better, Mr. D.” One of the girls pleaded their case. “Everyone’s doing it!”

  I was fully aware that everyone was doing it. “Come on, hand them over. I suggest you check out the list I put up in the library. Mrs. Cole found eleven tutors—”

  “Like we can afford that!” she exclaimed.

  I raised a brow. “Let me finish, Tatiana. They’re tutors who are volunteering their time to help out—that means free. Furthermore, this isn’t the first time you’ve bought drugs on school domain, so y
ou know what you’ll be doing next week.”

  They groaned and reluctantly slapped the little pills in my hand.

  “Thank you.” I pocketed them to flush them later. “I’ll speak to your teachers. They’ll expect slips from your parents so you can get your hands dirty.”

  Tatiana looked horrified. “Wait. The park project? Last time, we just had to go to some meetings and repeat that drugs are bad.”

  “I see that worked well,” I drawled. No, a couple days raking leaves and composting would be better, I thought. “Now, get to class. And I’m serious about the list. If you struggle keeping up, there is help.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” They grumbled to themselves and walked away.

  The hall had cleared out, leaving me alone with Gabe.

  I released his neck, and he slammed his locker shut.

  “This is getting out of hand, son.”

  “I’m not your fucking son.” He glared at the ground and shouldered his backpack.

  I suppressed a sigh. If only he would let us help him. “Come see me at the end of the day, okay? I won’t have you dealing drugs in school, and I don’t want you to drop out. So let’s find a solution.”

  He snorted. “There’s no solution. I gotta make three hundred a week for Mom—”

  “See, now I have a number. We’ll work with this,” I told him. “How much have you made this morning already?”

  His head snapped up, and he paled. “You can’t take my money, man.”

  “I’m not going to,” I promised. “I didn’t see anything, all right?”

  He relaxed and swallowed. “Yeah, okay. I’m, um, about seventy-five short this week.”

  I nodded and steered him toward the classroom. “Okay, then. We’ll figure something out after school. Or better yet, we’ll talk at the Quad tonight.”

  “Maybe you can get me diagnosed with ADD?”

  Hilarious. The last thing he needed was a prescription.

  “Keep thinking,” I replied dryly.

  Entering the classroom, I went to my desk while Gabe found his seat in the back. As I adjusted my tie and made sure no ink was visible on my neck, I frowned at the whiteboard. Someone—I assumed Willie—had written “Will” across the entire board.

  “Mr. Clarke, I assure you I haven’t forgotten your name.” I cleaned the board and heard a confused, “Huh?” coming from Willie.

  Amber, who was giggling and playing with her phone, came first. I gave her an impatient look, to which she sobered and immediately tucked away her phone. Phones weren’t allowed on their desks in my classroom.

  “There we go. You can open your books to page 130.” I took a sip of my coffee and rounded the desk to sit on the edge of it. “I’m sure it hasn’t gone unnoticed by any of you that there are marches taking place around the country right now. What’s so good about history is that we can often look back in time for answers about the future.” I paused and scanned the students, settling on Luisa. She was one of my brightest students, and she was great at getting a discussion started. “Ms. Diaz, can you tell us of any famous marches through history in our country?”

  “The Selma march,” she replied as a few others raised their hands.

  I nodded. “Ms. Fowler.”

  “That, um, parade for women’s suffering.”

  “Suffrage, dumbass,” Christian retorted with an eye-roll.

  “Hey.” I raised a brow, ticked off, and gestured for him to get his cocky ass over here. “I was going to let you read the first page in silence, but I think Mr. Wallace just volunteered to read it to everyone. Then he’s going to stay after class to get an extra assignment.”

  “You got all that from what I said?” He walked over to my desk.

  “What I didn’t get was your apology to Ms. Fowler. Today, if you don’t mind.” I rounded the desk again, and he delivered a half-assed apology, probably more bothered by his classmates snickering at him.

  “All right, quiet, everyone,” I went on. “The march between Selma and Montgomery and the Women’s Suffrage parade—two good examples of nonviolent protests that led to change.” I extended my copy of the book to Christian. “We’ll start with the Nineteenth Amendment and the decades it took to get there. Mr. Wallace will read about it.”

  “We could get rich selling these damn pills, Adrian.”

  “Don’t think the thought hasn’t occurred to me,” I laughed.

  Linda chuckled and bit into her tuna wrap.

  We had lunch together in my classroom. It was a moment of peace and quiet, and more than that, we wouldn’t risk running into the PE teacher and his small group of ignorant bandits.

  “Isn’t your daughter on Adderall?” she asked.

  I shook my head and wiped my mouth with a napkin. Last night’s chicken casserole tasted ten times better today. “She’s too young. We agreed to a mild anxiety drug when she was diagnosed with autism, but we’re keeping her off regular medication. She hasn’t needed it so far.”

  Thea wasn’t struggling much with concentrating either. I swore I couldn’t get any prouder of that girl, and then we’d have our monthly chat with William and her other counselors, and I’d grow another few feet taller.

  I could practice patience with Dominic—somewhat. But Thea…? I’d had no choice but to dive straight into the deep end of the pool. There was no pretending or hiding my nature as a ridiculous dreamer around Thea. I physically couldn’t.

  There was a knock on the door, and I checked my watch. “Come in.” I had another ten minutes, so it better be important.

  It was Hugo, one of the janitors, and he was holding what I presumed was a bouquet of flowers. They were wrapped.

  “It must’ve taken some skill to track down Linda here,” I chuckled.

  “I can guarantee you those aren’t for me.” She smiled wryly.

  I furrowed my brow.

  “It says for you, Mr. Dalton.” Hugo shuffled in and handed over the bouquet, and my frown deepened as I read the name on the little envelope. It actually did say my name. But who would’ve…no. I wasn’t going to get my hopes up. Part of why I loved Dominic so much was because he had his own brand of romantic gestures. Sending flowers wasn’t his style, despite that he’d given me one before.

  Hugo shuffled out again, whereas Linda had no intentions of giving me privacy. I felt her eyes on me as I unwrapped the bouquet of—Sweet Jesus, white roses. They couldn’t be from anyone other than Dominic, but what brought this on?

  I swallowed the nerves and the fluttery sensations and kept my smile curious and not full-on cheesy.

  “Read the note!” Linda urged excitedly.

  Let me have my moment, woman.

  I knew what people saw when they looked at me. Tall and broad, inked and rugged. I’d heard it from friends; I’d disappointed exes. Because I tended to come with a stereotype of all testosterone and masculinity. And over the years, I supposed I’d put a lid on some of my interests and reactions to fit the bill.

  The note was nothing but a confirmation that the roses were from Dominic; there was sparkly sticker heart I recognized from Thea’s crafts drawer and the word “You” that he’d felt the need to underline three times. I chuckled under my breath and scrubbed a hand over my mouth. Fuck, how I adored that man.

  Was he asleep now? I wanted to call him and say I loved him too, but I couldn’t risk waking him up. Not with how little sleep he got on Wednesdays. Besides, my next class started in five minutes. I texted him for now.

  Thank you for the roses, baby. It made my day. I hope you’re getting some rest. Love you too.

  Chapter 4

  Arian Dalton

  I went through an afternoon of teaching teenage terrors about American history, and they couldn’t spoil my mood. Whenever someone got rowdy or mouthy or heated, I held it together and glanced over at the roses in the corner. I’d found a mug for them to stand in, and they leaned against the wall so they didn’t tip over. More than a few girls asked who they were from, and those who hung out at the
Quad obviously guessed they were from Dominic.

  At the end of the day, I rewrapped my flowers, packed up, and started my walk toward the Quad.

  To my confusion, I didn’t get very far, because I spotted Casey in the parking lot, and he had Thea with him. She was climbing on his back.

  I stalked closer, worry seeping in quickly. “Is something wrong?”

  Casey smirked. “Not even a hello first?” He hauled Thea to his front where he positioned her on his hip. “Nothing’s wrong at all.”

  “Okay…” The wariness didn’t leave right away, though I managed to push it aside to greet my girl. “Hi, princess. What’re you two doing here? How was your hike today?” We Eskimoed each other, and I touched her rosy cheeks. Spring was running hot and cold; today was particularly chilly.

  “Sleepover, Daddy!” she signed with excitement radiating from her.

  I gave her forehead a loud kiss. Never was her new sign name for me going to get old. Technically, it came with the letter A to separate me from Dominic when she referred to us with other people around.

  “Yeah, I hope you don’t mind us borrowing your kid.” Casey made funny faces with Thea, who gigged and squished together his cheeks. “Ellis and I are having a movie night with Haley, Lyn, and Theo—” He was cut off by Thea’s squeal; she was often so tickled by her name being similar to that of Casey’s newborn son. I laughed softly, and so did Casey. “And we thought Queen Thea should be there too.”

  She began signing rapidly, much too fast for Casey to understand. Hell, I didn’t catch all the terms either, and I’d been studying ASL for a year now. Casey’s forehead creased, and I did my best to translate.

  “She has to think about the nickname,” I said. “She’s Daddy A’s princess and—” I snorted a laugh. “And that seems, ah, regal enough.” Then she did a 180 and inquired about the flowers in my hand. “Daddy sent them to me. Isn’t that sweet of him?”

  She nodded and continued signing. “Yes. Sweet. But they’re going to die. Flowers die, Daddy.”