by Kendall Ryan
Mom hums in a way that I know is accompanied by a frown. “I’d love to have you close. But you work too much, sugar. I worry about you two.”
This again. I restrain a sigh and speed through my counterarguments to every point she’s about to try making. “What can I say? I love my job. It keeps me happy and sane. And before you bring up Grier, I don’t think having more free time while also being miserable will help me be a better father.”
“Well, I don’t understand it,” Mom says as if we haven’t had this exact conversation a hundred times before. “But if that’s what you’ve decided, then at least think about finding a nice lady to help out. You’ve got your hands way too full.”
“Uh-huh,” I say automatically, and I almost have to laugh. Retreading such well-worn ground makes me feel so much more normal.
“Good. Anyway, I’ll let you go now.” Her voice brightens. “I really am over the moon to know I’ll have you back home. I love you both so much, and I’m looking forward to seeing you and my grandbaby all the time.”
“I love you too, Mom. I’ll keep you updated about the plan.” I hold the phone up to Grier’s ear. “Say bye-bye to Grandma, kiddo.”
“Bye!” she yells before going back to force-feeding Flapflap.
I call the office to let them know I’m telecommuting today, make a new batch of scrambled eggs, deal with my remaining emails while eating, then start making arrangements. As I cross each item off the list, a little weight slowly lifts from me. I have a concrete plan, and I’m putting it into action. I can’t fix Mom’s cancer, but I can at least control this much.
A tiny hand tugs on my pants leg. “Daddy.”
“Hmm?” I surface from my concentration.
Grier thrusts Flapflap forward. “Icky.”
So he is, the fake fur smeared with abundant banana goop and egg crumbs. Grier herself is sporting more than a little mess too.
“I think Flapflap needs a bath, don’t you? Will you come with him so he doesn’t have to be alone?”
She considers, then nods as gravely as an old diplomat. My terms have been accepted.
I take them to the bathroom, turn on the faucet, and undress her while the tub fills. The instant I’m elbow-deep in soapy water, my phone rings from the other room. I heave a deep sigh.
I hate to admit it, but maybe Mom is right about me needing help. This morning’s chaos and stress is part of a pattern, exactly like the majority of mornings since Grier was born two years ago. While I’m a quick learner, I can’t be everywhere at once, and there are only so many hours in the day.
Normally, I’d just do my best to roll with it and work harder, but now that I’m changing everything else about our life, why not reexamine this too?
I mentally add one more item to my to-do list. Hire a nanny.
2
* * *
LEXINGTON
Grier busily explores the mountains of boxes filling the living room while dragging Flapflap behind her, as I watch the moving truck pull out of our driveway and disappear into the sunset. Our new home doesn’t seem real yet, it’s close to Mom, has a backyard for Grier, it’s walking distance to the beach. This is going to be a good change for us, even though I’m acutely aware of how much there’s still left to do.
“I think dinner comes first, though,” I say aloud as I stare at the boxes and wishing they’d somehow unpack themselves. “How does pizza sound, baby girl?”
Grier grins, and claps her hand and making FlapFlap bounced around crazily. “Yeah!”
“You got it.”
After ordering and then finding myself with nothing to do but wait for the pizza and watch Grier play on the floor with FlapFlap, I grab my phone and impulsively call my old best friend, Dak. The phone picks up to a blast of music and chatter that sounds like a busy bar.
“Who’s this? How’d you get this number?” he says over the noise. “Start talking stranger.”
I shake my head at my childhood best friends attempt at being funny. I guess the jab at not calling often enough has been well-earned, though. “Ha-ha,” I say dryly. “It’s Lex, you dick.”
He chuckles. “Lexington Dane, you son of a bitch, I haven’t heard from you in months. What’s up, dude?”
I wince at the loud curses—at least Grier doesn’t seem to be paying attention—and turn down the speaker volume. “I’m back in town.”
“Oh man! How long are you staying? I’ve got my own bar now. You should come see it.”
“No, I mean, I’m back for good. Mom’s . . .” This isn’t really the kind of conversation I want to have over the phone. “I wanted us to be closer to Mom.”
“Gotcha.” His voice softens and I know he gets that I don’t want to talk about what’s going on right now. “Happy to hear you’re back in town. How’s the munchkin doing these days?”
“She’s good. Just as much trouble as ever.”
“Nice,” he mumbles. “So, now that you’re back, when are we getting together?”
I nod even though he can’t see me. “We need to catch up and grab a beer.” I realize the problem with that as soon as I say it. “Although hanging out might have to wait until I can find a nanny.”
“Yeah? I know just who you should ask. My sister goes on summer break today.”
Corrigan.
Memories over a decade old flood through my mind, as bright and fresh as the days we made them. Corrigan laughing in the passenger seat of my car as we blew around town like nothing else existed. Her hand on my thigh, lips against mine, sneaking a kiss in the back row of the movie theater. Her bare in my bed, her body welcoming me inside for the first time, her face pressed into my neck to stifle her moans. Her smile when she said she wanted to give me her heart.
Her tears when I broke it.
The crushing guilt of that day still weighs heavy on me. Dak clearly has no idea what his precious little sister and I shared all those years ago because if he did he’d never suggest me coming within a hundred miles of her. I never apologized, never made things right after what I did either. I was young and dumb—but that’s no excuse.
Realizing I’ve hesitated too long, I clear my throat awkwardly. “I don’t know, man . . .”
“Why not? It’s the perfect solution. She’s a teacher. She loves little kids, plenty of experience with ’em, and she won’t have a job for the next three months. And you two always got along great.” He hesitates for a beat. “Well, until you left for college, anyway. She was really pissed at you for some reason. But that was years ago, she’s gotta be over it by now.”
I have no idea if that’s true. But surely Dak knows his sister better than I do. Besides, even if she still isn’t my biggest fan, I know what kind of person she is—caring, patient, fair, honest, and dedicated. I have absolutely no doubt I’d be able to trust her to take care of Grier, and it would certainly save a lot of time and effort in vetting nannies. At least for the summer.
And yeah, maybe there’s a part of me that wants to see her again. I want to know how things turned out for her, what she thinks of me, whether we can be friends again. Because I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think of her often, and truth be told, I’ve missed her.
“You’ve convinced me,” I finally say. “What’s her number?”
3
* * *
CORRIGAN
The sweet June breeze blows through my open classroom window, airing out the smell of a year’s worth of sack lunches and colored-pencil shavings. June has arrived yet again which means another school year is in the books, putting me at five full years of teaching first graders. As I box up the last of this year’s bulletin board decorations, I can’t help but get the tiniest bit sentimental. Where in the world has the time gone?
“I think we’ve got just about everything,” I say with a sigh, doing a full sweep of the room for any last decorations or books I might have left behind.
Once my best friend and saint of a clean-up volunteer, Sarah Jo, finishes disinfecting the desks with
the wipes I gave her, we should be just about done. Then we can walk out of here and kick off my summer vacation with a much-deserved margarita.
I check my phone for the time—five forty-five—which means we haven’t missed happy hour yet. While I’m still looking at my screen, my phone buzzes once, then twice in my hand with two texts from Dak.
Ten bucks says he’s wishing me a happy last day of school. That or asking for a last-minute pair of hands at his bar tonight. I’m sure the place will be packed with teachers from this district, toasting to the end of the school year, just like Sarah Jo and I will be doing very soon.
“Quit texting and let’s get out of here,” Sarah Jo says with a whine, dragging a disinfecting wipe across the ledge of the chalkboard. “I can practically taste the tequila already.”
“It’s my brother. Just give me a second.”
But once I nudge the text open with my thumb, my stomach plummets all the way to the soles of my shoes. I think I’m going to need more than a second. A minute, maybe. Or a few weeks. Actually, no amount of time would be enough for me to fully process this news staring back at me. News I never would have predicted I’d receive.
Hey, IDK if you know, but Lex is back in town.
Lexington Dane. Once upon a time, he was my everything. Now just his name sends my good mood plummeting.
I suck in a slow, controlled breath, pushing down the anger and confusion bubbling within me, then scan the screen to see what else Dak has to say. Turns out, his second text is just as insane as the first.
He mentioned he might need some kind of favor from you.
“Everything okay?”
I snap my head up to see Sarah Jo looking at me, her head cocked and a disinfectant wipe in her hand.
“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s nothing,” I lie, managing a tight-lipped smile despite the pounding in my chest.
Knock, knock, it’s me, your heart. Reminding you of how freaking broken I ended up the last time we dealt with Lexington Dane.
Unconvinced, my best friend narrows her eyes at me. “If it’s nothing, then why do you look like you just saw a ghost?”
Because I did.
“Dak is just being weird, as usual.” I shrug, avoiding eye contact as I pocket my phone. “He caught me off guard.”
It’s not a complete lie. My guard was absolutely, totally down before Dak dropped the atomic bomb of news. My high school boyfriend, the one I gave my entire heart to, only to have him kick it to the curb on his way to college, is back in town. And apparently, he needs some sort of favor from me, of all people. The same ex-boyfriend who I haven’t seen or spoken to in ten years. Oh and yep, you guessed it, the same ex-boyfriend who I compare every guy I meet to… even if I don’t want to.
So, yeah, that guard that was down? Time to build it all the way back up again and hang up a sign that reads NO SCUMBAGS ALLOWED.
Sarah Jo has a stern look in her eyes as she marches across the room and presses the back of her hand against my forehead. “You feel a little warm. Maybe we should skip drinks tonight.”
“No way, José.” I duck out of her reach, shaking my head. “I’m fine. And I’ll be even better after a frozen strawberry margarita with extra salt.”
She looks skeptical, an unamused frown tugging at her lips. But after some gentle pleading from me, she throws in the towel, um, disinfecting wipe. “Fine. But only because it’s been so long since we’ve been to Pepe’s.”
“We were there a week ago,” I remind her. “And the week before that.”
“Yeah.” She scoffs. “And a week is a long time.”
With everything boxed away until next year, I wave good-bye to my classroom, flipping the row of light switches one by one until the whole room goes dark. I’ve dealt with a lot in this little room over the years. Peanut allergies. Lice outbreaks. Skinned knees from recesses gone wrong. All of which I’ve navigated with the ease of an expert.
But one little text from my brother, three little letters spelling out one name, and suddenly, it’s like I forgot how to stand on my own two feet.
I don’t know what my problem is. It’s not like I’m going to see Lexington. Well not on purpose, anyway. I have absolutely no plans to do him any kind of favor after what he did to me. And even if we do run into each other, my first graders have taught me everything I need to know about the silent treatment. So, what is there to get worked up about?
In the parking lot, Sarah Jo and I each hop in our cars, and although it seems ridiculous to drive separately, I’m grateful for the alone time. It gives me a few minutes to collect my thoughts about this Lexington thing, without trying to keep a poker face in front of my best friend.
It’s weird enough that he’s back in North Carolina, but the fact that he needs a favor specifically from me is almost too wild to be true. It’s been ten years since we’ve spoken, and even longer since I’ve seen him. And if his memory is the same as mine, he has to know how badly he hurt me and it shouldn’t be a secret that I would be pissed.
But before our relationship turned to heartbreak, it was different. It was sweet and easy, and everything you’d imagine your first love to be.
I still remember the night things changed between us. It was early October, homecoming weekend at our high school. While every other junior in town was getting ready to go to the big homecoming dance, I was sulking on the couch, barely watching some made-for-TV movie. Upstairs, my brother and a few buddies were drinking beer they’d not-so-sneakily taken from the fridge in our basement. I could only assume Lex was on his way to grab a few more brews when he came downstairs and spotted me, elbow deep in a bag of cheese puffs.
“Weren’t you supposed to be at the dance?” he asked, his dark brows knitting together.
I nodded, licking cheese dust from my thumb. “Yeah, but Sarah Jo got food poisoning from the nachos at the football game last night.”
“That sucks. For her and for you.”
The couch was big, easily seating four people comfortably, but when he sat down, he sat right next to me, so close that his denim-clad thigh pressed against mine. It was enough for my teenage hormones to go into overdrive, so much so that I nearly didn’t hear the next thing he said.
“I could take you, if you want.”
My heart started pounding as anticipation rushed warmly through me. I leaned in, unsure if I’d heard him right. “Did you say you’d take me?”
“Sure.”
“I thought seniors were too cool to go to the dance.” I gestured toward the ceiling and the raucous laughter of my brother and his friends upstairs. “Exhibit A.”
Lex lifted a shoulder, the slightest hint of a smile on his lips. “Yeah, but I don’t want you to be stuck at home.” He paused for a moment, weighing his words, then closed his eyes and went for it. “I bet you look gorgeous in your dress.”
Electricity prickled down my spine. Was he being serious? Lex was a senior, not to mention my brother’s best friend. Both of those things made it clear that he was very off-limits. But right then, as he shifted his hand to rest on my knee, all those limits dissolved into dust and floated out the window on the October breeze.
“I—I guess I’ll just have to find another time to wear it,” I stammered. It was my best attempt at flirting, at the time, and although it wasn’t much, it seemed to work.
“Like on a date?” he asked, one brow lifted suggestively. “Do you date?”
“I haven’t, no. But I haven’t really been asked out.”
“Well, I’m asking you out right now. I want to take you out. Somewhere nice, so you can wear your dress and I can see you in it. What do you say?”
The blast of a car horn yanks me from my trip down memory lane and throws me right back into the present, where I’ve totally missed the fact that the light turned green and I’m holding up traffic.
Oops. I give an apologetic wave to the car behind me as I pull into the restaurant’s lot, gripping my gearshift a little tighter than usual as I slide it into park.
Yes, Lexington Dane was a sweetheart and a charmer. Emphasis on the was. That was before he up and left the state, and my life, without a backward glance. So unless the favor he wants from me is a slap across the face and a kick in the you-know-where, there’s not a favor in this world I would do for him.
Inside the restaurant, Sarah Jo has already settled into our usual booth near the back, where she’s happily munching on chips and salsa. If memory serves me right, this is our third time here this month.
“Fancy seeing you here,” she says, grinning as I scoot into the spot across from her.
“Us? At Pepe’s?” I gasp, feigning shock as I dramatically press a hand to my chest. “Who would’ve ever guessed?”
We’re still laughing when our waiter arrives, asking if we have questions about the specials.
“Nope.” Sarah Jo laughs, having not even looked at the menu. “I’ll have a lime marg on the rocks, and she’ll have a frozen strawberry margarita, extra salt.”
God, I love this woman. No wonder we’ve been friends our entire lives.
When the server disappears back to the kitchen, we get to work on the chips and salsa, laying down a solid layer of carbs to soak up the tequila we’re about to consume.
“So, what’s your game plan this summer?” Sarah Jo asks, wiping tortilla chip crumbs from the corner of her mouth. “Are you finally going to download that dating app I’ve been telling you about?”
I shake my head, holding up a finger while I finish chewing. “No need. I’ve got a hot date with the library and then I’m putting my booty in the sand at Wilmington Beach for as many days as possible until September rolls around and I get back to the classroom.”
Sarah Jo rolls her eyes, but lucky for me, our waiter appears with our drinks before she can give me any grief on my extra-mild summer plan that definitely do not include dating apps.
I don’t know what she was expecting. It’s me, after all. Sure, I had a few flings here and there in college. I even had one semi-serious boyfriend a few years back, until we decided that my teaching schedule and his bartending gig made it too difficult to see each other. Other than that, though, it’s common knowledge that I steer clear of the dating pool. I haven’t had much steaminess in my life since . . .
