But before I leave his room Aiden says, “Is Coach Trent still here?”
“He’s just leaving. Now close your eyes and have a good sleep. See you in the morning, honey.”
I’m a hot mess as I shuffle slowly back into the living room. I look sheepishly at Jamie who is standing near the front door.
“Elyse, I—I’m sorry that happened. Is Aiden okay?”
“Yeah, he is sleeping again. He just needs his rest.” Suddenly I feel awkward, and all the excitement and passion I was feeling ten minutes ago has been replaced with anxiety and guilt. “I think we should call it a night, Jamie. Thanks again for all your help…and for dinner.”
“I got carried away and I’m sorry things ended this way. I know this is not what you wanted.” And with that, he slips quietly out the front door.
I stand alone in the dimly lit living room, having gone from exhilaration to the depths of despair in the blink of an eye. I lock the front door, turn off the lights, check on Aiden one last time and get into bed myself.
It’s a long time before I fall asleep.
My alarm goes off at six thirty the next morning and for a minute or two I don’t remember anything—the injury, the hospital, Jamie, the take-out dinner, the kiss. I’m blissfully happy for about two seconds. And then it all comes back to me in a hot, hammering rush. Suddenly, anxiety threatens to overwhelm me. I lay in bed for a few minutes, strategizing, and then I check on Aiden, who is still in a deep sleep. I decide to let him sleep in, and head to the shower and get ready for the day.
I whip up some pancakes, and at about eight Aiden limps into the kitchen. He looks at the time and says, “Wow, I never thought you would let me sleep this late.” After reporting that his ankle isn’t too bad, he heads back to his bedroom to get dressed. Clearly he is relishing the idea of going to school on crutches.
By the time Aiden sits down to breakfast, I’ve called his school to let them know he’ll be a bit late, and I’ve called my school secretary to tell her the same thing. My mom has called for an update and, satisfied that there is nothing she can do this minute, promises to make Aiden’s favorite dinner tonight—chicken fingers and cucumber and strawberry salad.
Things almost feel normal for a school day—almost, but not quite.
As Aiden tucks into a big stack of pancakes he says, rather nonchalantly, “What were you and Coach Trent doing last night, Mom?”
I turn to face him. “We—um…”
“Were you kissing?”
I stare into his eyes—I can’t fathom what he’s feeling in this moment, but I’ve never been the sort to lie to him. “Yes, Aiden, we were.”
“I thought so.”
I blink at the statement. “Um. We…it’s…” I shake my head. “It’s hard to explain, Aiden.”
He’s silent a moment. His brows furrow deeper. “Can I have some more pancakes?”
Oh, brother. What is he going to say next? I won’t varnish the truth for him but, at the same time, he’s a kid and I need to be careful about telling him too much…and not enough. I decide to let him lead this conversation.
“You know, I think we all had a nice time last night, even though you got injured. Coach Trent and I do like one another. How do you feel about that?”
“I dunno. Okay, I guess. He’s pretty cool but…” Aiden stops to think.
I give him a minute before asking, “But what? Is there something bothering you?”
“You like Coach Trent?” he asks, his eyes sharp and inquisitive.
I sigh. “Yeah, I like him. He’s a really great guy.”
“Do you like him more than Dad?”
“Aiden, that’s not…it’s not like that. I can’t say more than or less than…because it’s just…different. I loved your dad.”
“But not anymore.”
“He’s gone, Aiden. He left, and it’s hard to love someone who…”
“Who goes away and doesn’t come back?”
I swallow hard. “Yeah, exactly.”
“Is…” Aiden’s eyes fill. “Is Coach Trent going away too?”
See? This is exactly why I can’t let anything happen with Jamie—one kiss, and Aiden is all mixed up.
“No, baby. He’s your coach, and he’s your principal. He’s not going away.”
I sigh, hang my head. “It’s really complicated and hard to explain, Aiden.”
“You say that when you just don’t want to explain something to me. I could understand.”
His eyes are on me, inquisitive, a little confused but thoughtful. “If you…if you and Coach Trent like each other, and you kiss each other, does that mean he’ll be my stepdad?”
I try to follow his leaps of logic. “Ummm…no.” I breathe deeply, let it out. “I mean I guess that’s a possibility—meaning…it happens sometimes, to people. A couple gets divorced for whatever reason, and then they meet new people and get married. But I don’t…I don’t know if that’s going to happen for Mr. Trent and me.”
“Why not?”
“Would you want it to?” I counter.
He shrugs. “I don’t know. I saw you guys kissing and I was confused and little scared. But Dad left a long time ago and he’s never coming back. Right?”
I nod. “Right. But—”
“And sometimes I feel like maybe you’re lonely. You have me and Grandma and Papa, and Aunt Cora, but sometimes I feel like you’re lonely. I thought maybe it was because you miss Dad, but you don’t, do you?”
I have to think hard about how to answer that. “I…god, Aiden, you’re full of tricky questions this morning aren’t you?”
“Let me say this. I loved your father. And the reasons we got divorced are adult stuff, things that I’m not ready to explain to you right now. But what I can say is that your father and I divorced for reasons between the two of us. It was never anything you did or didn’t do. It wasn’t your fault in any way whatsoever.”
“Mom, I just meant—”
“Hold on—just listen, okay?” I touch his lips, and he goes quiet. “So…I miss us being a family. And I miss the way I used to love your father. But that changed, like it does sometimes, but yes, I do miss family life. Do I miss your father, the man, right now? No, not at all. He changed, and I guess we kind of stopped loving each other.”
He frowns at that, his eyes seeking mine. “You stopped loving him too?”
“Once things were over, yeah. He left, Aiden. I had to let go. I had to move on. So yes, I stopped loving him.”
“But you didn’t want to stop loving him, right?”
I sigh. “God, Aiden. This is stuff I have trouble figuring out myself, so it’s really hard to put in a way you’ll understand.” I spend a moment considering. “I…um…I mean, no. I wanted us to be a family.”
He stares off into the distance for a moment, then back at me. “Will you ever stop loving me?”
I grab him in a tight hug. “God, no, Aiden. No! Never! Not in a hundred million years.” I kiss his cheek, his forehead, his cheekbone. “No matter what happens, never ever think I could ever stop loving you.”
He blinks hard. “You said you stopped loving Dad, so I thought maybe—”
“No, baby. No. That’s different. You’re my son—my baby. Even when you’re all grown up, you’ll be my baby boy. And I’ll love you as much then as I do now, if not more! Nothing could ever happen to change that.”
“What if Coach Trent got in love with you?”
My heart aches, stings. “Aiden, I…I don’t know.”
“Could you love him and me?”
I laugh. “Of course, Aiden!” I poke his belly. I tickle him. “And do I love Grandma and Papa?”
He nods seriously. “Yes.”
“And do I love Auntie Cora?”
“Yes.” I see comprehension dawning. “Ohhhh.”
“So, I can love lots of people all at the same time.” I tap his chest. “Your heart can hold love for as many people as you want.”
He’s quiet, and I find myself
hoping the barrage of questions is over.
“Mom?”
Crap.
“Yes, Aiden?”
“Did you like kissing Coach Trent?”
“I’m not sure that’s any of your business, Aiden.”
“Did you?”
I sigh. “Yes, Aiden. I did.”
“Do you want to kiss him again?”
“I…I don’t know.” Lies—yes, I do: I know without a doubt that I want to kiss Jamie again.
But I’m scared. So, so scared. The confusion in Aiden’s eyes…the probing questions he’s asking…I just don’t think I can handle this.
He frowns when he senses my hesitation. “Mom, you know how you tell me you always know when I’m lying?”
“Uh-huh…?” I really don’t like where this is going.
“Well, I can tell when you’re lying too.”
I laugh. “You’re too smart for your own good, buster. Or mine.” I sigh, tapping his nose. “Aiden, the thing with me and Mr. Trent is complicated, and I don’t know all the answers. But I do know that I love you, that I’ll always love you, and that no matter what happens, we’ll always have each other.”
Aiden gets up from the table to go brush his teeth, and I think I’m finally off the hook, but it seems he has something else to say. “Mom?”
I sigh. “Yes, Aiden?”
“You know, if you did want to kiss Coach Trent again, you could. Just maybe not where I could see, because it’s a little weird and yucky. But…I don’t want you to be lonely just because I saw something you don’t think I should see.”
“God, Aiden.” I blink back tears. “It’s not that. It’s…” I don’t have anything to finish that statement, though.
Aiden does, apparently. “It’s complicated?”
I laugh. “Yeah. Exactly.”
“Everything is complicated,” he mutters, sounding irritated at adults in general.
God, that kid.
I love him so fiercely it hurts. I want to protect him, shelter him, let him stay innocent as long as he can. And I’m afraid I’ve already messed that up, that he understands things he shouldn’t have to understand at eight years of age.
Will you ever stop loving me?
Do you want to kiss Coach Trent again?
I don’t want you to be lonely…
Yeah…it’s complicated, all right—too complicated. There are so many pitfalls and landmines.
But I can’t make myself wish I’d never met Jamie, because the memories of our night together are some of the most amazing and sensual of my life, but…if this is how it’s going to be, trying to navigate being Aiden’s mom and figuring something out with Jamie…
Then I can’t see how anything can happen with Jamie.
13
A little over a week later, and it’s almost business as usual. Aiden is not attending football practice regularly because of his ankle. My mom and dad have been picking him up after school, and sometimes the three of them go over to the field to watch part of the practice. Aiden hasn’t said anything else about Jamie, so I’ve just left the topic alone.
The past week has been super busy and I’ve barely had time to think, never mind think about Jamie Trent. To be honest, being so busy has been a relief. I’m transferring handwritten notes from a counseling session with a troubled sophomore into my computer. It’s a half-day today, and I’m hoping to be able to get out of my office on time—Cora and I have tentative plans to go to lunch.
I finish transferring my notes, wrap up some other paperwork, and then I have one last appointment—a follow-up with a junior who was on academic probation last year which prevented him from playing basketball for part of the season…and he was one of the star point-scorers. He’s doing better this year, partly due to tutoring sessions with Jen in the mornings. We go through his grades, check for missing assignments, discuss upcoming tests and projects, strategies for success, and which colleges he plans on applying to this year—he has a good chance of getting some decent scholarships for basketball, so keeping his GPA up and getting good scores on his entrance tests is vital.
Once that appointment is finished, the bell is about to ring and I still have few other items on my to-do list before I can leave. It’s another twenty minutes before I’m done, and as I’m shutting down my computer and turning off my light, Cora sweeps into my office, purse on her shoulder, carrying a backpack by the handle, typing a text message one-handed.
“You ready, Elyse?” she says without looking up at me.
“Sure am.”
“I’ve barely seen you this past week. We’re still going to lunch, right?” She finishes her text, sends it with a bloop, puts her phone to sleep, and stuffs the device in her purse. “I’m hungry, so the answer had better be yes.”
I laugh. “Yes, Cora, we’re going to lunch.”
“Where should we go?” Cora asks, her voice thick with sarcasm. “Wait, I know! José’s!”
I laugh. “A wealth of choices, indeed.” I lock my door and wave at the principal as I pass his office.
We almost always park next to each other, so we walk out to our cars together and I follow her to José’s. We get a booth near the front—it’s busy this afternoon, as most of the staff at the high school had the same idea we did. We order iced tea and burritos, and fill up on chips and salsa while we wait for our food.
“So.” Cora gestures at me with a chip. “What’s the latest on you and Jamie?”
I sigh. “There is no latest.”
“Bullllllllll-shiiiiiiit!” she says in a singsong. “There is too. I can tell just by looking at you.”
“Cora.”
“Elyse.”
“I’m not gossiping with you.”
She rolls her eyes. “It’s not gossip if it’s about you, ya dork.”
“Fine. Then I just don’t want to talk about it.”
She leans forward, her eyes gleaming as she seizes my avoidance like a dog with a bone. “Something happened.” She pounds the table with her fists in time with her words: “Tell me, tell me, tell me!”
“Cora!” I hiss. “Quit making a scene!”
She cackles as she dips another chip into the salsa. “It’s like you don’t even know me! I live to make a scene.” She crunches on the chip, and then shoves the bowls away. “God, make me stop! I’m already full and we haven’t even gotten our food yet!”
“I know, right?” I take one last chip and then resolve to not eat any more.
Cora’s voice is quieter, but still intense. “Elyse Thomas. You have to tell me what happened.”
Our food arrives just then, and I’m spared having to answer for a few more minutes as we dig into our food. We eat in silence for a while, and then Cora finally gestures at me with her fork, speaking around a mouthful of food.
“All right. Talk.”
I sigh, poking at the last few bites. “I told him nothing could happen, that I wasn’t ready, that I needed to focus on Aiden, protect Aiden, all that.”
“Right, I remember all that.”
“So then Aiden sprained his ankle, right? And Jamie was just…amazing. He brought Aiden to the ER and sat with him until I got there, and he bought an entire season of Ninjago so Aiden would have something to watch to take his mind off the pain. He sat in the ER waiting room for hours. And then he got carryout for us all, and…” I shrug. “Aiden just absolutely adores Jamie. He worships him like he’s a superhero or sports star or something. And Jamie genuinely likes Aiden. He listens to him, talks to him like an adult, plays with him.”
“Well, to be fair, it’s hard not to like Aiden.” Cora grins. “It’s also hard not to like Jamie.”
“Exactly.” I take a bite, thinking. “So…Jamie gets us food and was going to just drop it off and leave. But Aiden was like no way, of course. So Jamie ends up eating dinner with us at our house.”
Cora blinks in surprise. “Wow. Really?”
I nod. “Really.”
“He’s the first single male you
’ve had your house since Daniel left, right?”
I nod. “He’s the only man, period, except Dad, who has ever even been in my house.”
“So that’s a big deal.”
“Huge. What’s weird though is that at the time, it didn’t really feel that way.”
Cora frowns. “It didn’t?”
“I know, but it didn’t. It felt…totally normal. Sitting, eating, and talking to Aiden and Jamie in my home was just the most easy, natural, normal, and comfortable thing.”
Cora’s eyes widen, almost comically. “That is pretty significant! Elyse, don’t you realize what that means?”
I roll my eyes and shake my head, and hold my palms out to stop her. “Cora, no. Stop. Don’t. Just…don’t.”
She ignores me. “It means you’re meant for each other.”
“No, we’re not.”
She gives me a look of utter disgust. “You’re delusional! Does lying to yourself like that come easily, or do you have to work at it?”
“I’m not lying to myself,” I say, poking at my food again, finding it hard to look at her.
“Okay, well I can’t win against stupid, so I’m not going to try,” Cora says. “What happened next?”
I sigh again. “Aiden went to bed. Which left Jamie and I alone.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Yeah.” I close my eyes, duck my head. Drop my voice to a whisper. “We talked. About…us. He really wants to see if we could…if there could be something between us—”
“Well nothing could be more obvious, but continue.”
I ignore her statement, opening my eyes to meet her gaze again. “And I explained why I’m so afraid.”
“Aiden. You’re worried you and Jamie would break up and he’d be upset.”
“Not upset, Cora—devastated. Daniel leaving really messed him up. He thought it was his fault.” I suck in a shuddery breath, letting it out slowly.
Cora leans forward, her eyes piercing mine. “You didn’t…sleep together again, did you?”
“No.” I look away again, down at the table. “But he did kiss me.”
“Oh.” She blinks, hesitates. “Wow. So…how was it?”
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