I didn't see Miss Petal at school for the remainder of the week. When I asked Chester where she was, he said she'd called in sick. They'd had a substitute.
It was easier for me that I didn't see her so soon after the break up. Perhaps easier for her, too. My heart ached too much, and seeing her would have only sought to remind me of what I'd lost. What I'd, in effect, given up.
Who could blame her for calling in sick, after the knives had come out? How quickly everyone had turned on her, as though they'd forgotten all the wonderful things she'd done for their children. Kids who had trouble with spelling were now able to spell. Likewise with math. I'd heard it time and again, what a miracle worker she was, the best teacher their children ever had. And they'd still turned on her, so unnecessarily, too.
I should have defended her.
It still haunted me that I didn't. That I wasn't dependable. It still stung that she thought of me as not her lover, but the woman who betrayed her. I vowed that in time I would summon the right words to say to her. I needed her to know that I did love her, I just wasn't strong enough to be with her. She could hate me for being weak, but not because she thought our time together meant nothing to me.
But when the new week began, and she failed to show up, it became apparent that she wasn't going to return. The principal confirmed at the end of the week that she had in fact resigned.
And so began the new cycle of substitute teachers, kids falling behind academically, and generally everything we all hated as parents, that had made us consider removing our children from the school.
We'd broken her. A woman who had been a breath of fresh air, to all of us, not just our children. We'd pushed her out. When I spoke to the principal he mentioned that she had decided to tutor privately until she got a new teaching post in a school. He seemed just as distraught to see her go as I was.
I had a lot to think about. Going back on the substitute merry-go-round wasn't an option. I didn't want that headache again, worrying about my son's academic future.
But something else troubled me when I learned of her resignation. Not just the thought of the instability in Chester's class, something even more personal. It had been a mere week and a half since I'd last seen her, and I was already crumbling. I missed her. My body missed her. I'd never banked on her leaving, and just assumed she would stick it out, and that we would see each other daily. Even though it would have been painful, not seeing her was far worse. That I wasn't prepared for.
It was Saturday evening when I drove down to her place. I had no right to be there, and she had every right to tell me to go to hell. But at least we would exchange words. I just needed to see her, even if it was a brief and heated exchange. She could call me all the names under the sun as long as she spoke to me.
I saw the living room light on through the window, heard the faint sound of the television. She was in. I knocked. The television went silent, but I heard no more movement. I knocked and rang, more frantically this time.
"Ava, it's me, Danielle."
The television sound came back on, but this time the volume increased. She was blocking me out.
"Ava, please open the door. I just want to talk."
She never did.
My fists hurt from all the banging. A neighbor came out to tell me it was late, that I should be on my way. Making a scene wasn't my style, so I apologized and left, shooting one final, longing look at Ava's house. It felt a lot like the life I'd perfected for myself was slowly crumbling around me.
"What's up, buddy?" I asked Chester a couple of weeks later. We were at the dinner table, and he'd been wearing that glum expression since he got back home from school.
"May I be excused?"
"Not until you tell me what's wrong."
He let out a heavy sigh. "Do I have to go back to school?"
I laughed. "Of course you do, honey. You need an education."
"But school's no fun without Miss Petal."
I swallowed. Every time he mentioned her name, which was daily, I felt a pang in my chest.
Through the corner of my eye I saw Dominic smirking. It made me wish I'd given him a secret helping of dog food in his chilli con carne!
"Oh honey, you'll get another good teacher soon." It wasn't a promise I could make, and I wasn't at all convinced.
Chester also wasn't buying it. "No we won't. Miss Petal was the best."
"Your mom clearly doesn't think so. What happened, Dani, you finally realized she didn't have the right parts to satisfy you?"
"You're disgusting," I said. Normally I kept comments like that to myself, but lately I'd been loath to do so. What was the point now? We couldn't raise Chester in a loving marriage – that was impossible to fake twenty-four hours a day – so the charade was redundant.
"Can we go see her?" Chester asked, big eyes filled with hope.
"She's busy, honey. She has a new job that takes up all of her time. I'm sure she misses you as much as you miss her, though."
Dominic snorted a laugh. "Who are we talking about here, Danielle? Him or you?"
Chester was still too young to understand what was being hinted at, and for that I was thankful. But the denigrating of his mother by his father was difficult to ignore at any age.
"It's not funny, Dad," he said, sulking.
"You can be excused now, honey. Go watch some TV." I waited until he had left the room before I exploded. "You... You shit!" It was the first thing that came to my head, and seemed to fit him well. "You disgusting pig! You are the worst human being I have ever had the displeasure of meeting. You think this is all a game, that it's funny what you started?"
"It's pretty funny, yes." He was laughing at me. My relationship was over, thanks to his intervention, and all he could do was laugh.
"You couldn't just let me be happy, could you? You couldn't let Chester be happy. He finally gets a teacher he likes, who's actually good for him, and you had to destroy that, you selfish piece of...of..."
"The kid will be fine. But you won't. Did you honestly think you could start fucking a woman, right under my nose, and I would let you get away with that?" Now he wasn't laughing, he had risen to his feet, and his face was the picture of pure disgust. "My son's teacher! I warned you not to try to make a fool of me, Danielle. I warned you. So your whore had to suffer."
"It was you, wasn't it? Who went to the principal and complained about our friendship?" It finally dawned on me. The thought had crossed my mind, but I didn't think he would have been so petty.
"And I made sure everyone at school learned about Lovely Miss Petal, the dyke who has a thing for much younger women." He grinned heinously. "I embellished a little there, but it did the job. Made them fear that their innocent daughters were in danger."
"Oh my God!" My body felt weak. My mouth hung open in shock. "You made them think she was a child molester... How could you be so sick?"
"I did what I had to do. If you think you get to run off with some gash you've only known a few months, you're wrong."
I wandered out of the room absentmindedly, so flabbergasted I couldn't speak, and still couldn't close my mouth. It was as though I was in a trance as I walked up the stairs and into my bedroom. Every action I did after that felt like I was being guided by some invisible force. Pulling open the closet door, filling my suitcase with clothes and essentials, then going into Chester's room and doing the same with his things.
I lugged Chester's suitcase out to the car first, and Dominic saw me.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded when I came back in to collect my case.
"Something I should have done a long time ago. I'm leaving you." I was so calm, anyone who saw me then would have thought me insane. But I had never been more sane.
"Like hell you are," he said, and grabbed my wrist.
"If you don't get your hands off me, Dominic, I swear to God I'll scream this house down, and everyone in the neighborhood will know what sort of man you are. And any relationship you have with your son will be from behind a glass screen." He'd never been physically abusive to me, and this was not a good time to start. I would ruin his life if he ever tried to stop me from leaving.
"You're not taking my son anywhere." He let go.
"My son! He's my son, and he's coming with me. Now get the hell out of my way."
I got my case, loaded it into the trunk. In the living room, the furniture and electronics were being smashed and broken by my furious husband, who'd realized he'd lost. He'd banked on me not wanting to disturb my perfect life. And he'd gone too far. I couldn't live under the same roof as a man who could do something so disgraceful.
"Chester, come on, honey, get your coat on."
"Where are we going?"
"We're staying in a hotel while Mommy finds something more permanent."
"Is Dad coming?"
"No. You can see him in a few days."
I packed my son and myself into the car and sped off without glancing back at the house.