Zack
It was cold enough the ground actually crunched when I walked over to Zoe’s. She hadn’t texted me, but we had this sort of sixth sense about each other, and I knew she was still trying to digest the idea of me being seven hours away. And I knew where she went when she needed to think, and that’s where she was. In our “fort,” or “clubhouse,” or whatever we used to call it as kids. It really wasn’t either of those things because it didn’t have sides, only a green, now pretty faded, canvas roof over the platform at the top of her slide. We hardly fit these days. Zoe was still roughly the same size, but I wasn’t.
Not by a long stretch.
It had taken me months and months, it seemed like forever, to build my body up to where it was now.
However, despite the platform’s smallness, that is where she perched. Her back was to me, her legs folded under her. She had on this cute little bomber jacket, that only came to her waist. It was the first time I’d seen it this season and it made me smile.
I must have made enough noise to alert her, as her head spun in my direction, then whirled back equally as fast. She brought her hands to her face. I knew she was wiping away tears, and that stung me. My footsteps slowed a fraction. What was I going to say to her? My breath froze in the air like an empty conversation bubble, taunting me.
When I got alongside her she attempted to speak. “Hey. Uhh…sorry I didn’t text you back earlier. I needed some time to think.” She shifted, unknotted her legs, and hung them over the ladder.
I squeezed her calves, looking into her face. She may have wiped the tears away, but the swollen eyelids were a dead giveaway. “I know.”
She smiled at that. “You always know me so well.” Her voice became choked at the end.
I gestured. “Come down here. I can’t talk to you when you’re up there.”
She half-climbed, half-slid to the ground, with her back against the ladder, facing me. When she got to my level I put my hands on either side of her and held on to the sides of the ladder, pressing into her. She smelled so good. Some perfume named after a celebrity. She told me once, but I could never remember it. All I knew was, I liked it, and it automatically connected me to that feeling of being close to her, physically, and in every other way.
With no words to give her, I gave the only other comfort I knew. I brought my hand under that silky blond mane of hers and used it to tip her head so I could kiss her. And, to be honest, it wasn’t simply a play to console her. I needed her, too. It overwhelmed me every time I was near her, and even when we were apart. A desire so strong I was incapable of fighting it.
The contrast between the nip in the air and the heat of her breath was a huge turn on. She had me flying with those first couple of kisses, then she did something she’d never done before. She pulled away. She didn’t need this, as much as I wanted her to. She needed words, and that’s the one thing I didn’t have.
She looked to the side and blinked. I knew the tears were threatening again. I rubbed a thumb over her cheek, desperate to relieve that ache inside her. “Come on, Zo. It won’t be that bad.”
“For you, maybe.”
She meant for the words to hurt, and they did. I separated my body from hers and glanced away and back. “That’s not fair.” She didn’t respond. She was hella stubborn at times. It both drove me crazy and attracted me.
I bent my knees to try to catch her gaze, but she steadily refused to look at me. “You know I don’t want to leave you, as much as you don’t want me to leave.” But it wasn’t true. She didn’t know. No matter what I said or did, she always had this crazy notion she didn’t deserve me, when it was I who didn’t deserve her. I grabbed on to the rope I had clung to all day. “We can make it work.”
“It won’t work, Zack!”
Her shout made me jerk.
“Can’t you see?” She was crying again. She lifted her arms, palms up. Her voice came out small, defeated. “Why can’t you just see that?”
“It’ll work,” I insisted. But was I trying to convince her everything would be all right, or myself? “It’ll take some effort on our part, but—”
She rolled, her right side now taking the weight of her body as she leaned on the wooden rungs. It also created more distance between us. “Ugh. Get real. We’ll grow apart. You’ll be lonely. The girls will be all over you, and it will all be too tempting for you, and you’ll give in.”
“Zoe.” I swallowed the anger rising in my throat. “I’m not like that.”
She turned her head to stare at me, as if judging the validity of that statement. She huffed out some air and folded her arms, looking straight ahead again, closing herself off. My chest tightened. Was she going to use this as a reason to break up with me? Lock her heart away in an effort to keep it safe? It would be such a Zoe thing to do. Avoidance was her go-to form of self-preservation.
“Hey,” I said so softly she was compelled to look at me. I put my hands on either side of her face and she turned her body toward me. “I would never do that to you. You know that. Never.”
She closed her eyes, and several more fat tears leaked out and tracked along her face. She looked so goddamn beautiful at that moment. Black lashes against china skin. Her cheeks rosy from the cold. Other than our breathing, it was absolutely quiet. It felt like time had stopped and the whole world was waiting for her reaction. Definitely my whole world was suspended in time, frozen until she made some sort of response. I drank in her face, studying every detail, searching for any hint of what was going on in her mind.
She opened her eyes and threw her arms around me. I exhaled, closing my eyes and squeezing her tighter. “I love you,” I murmured in her ear, my voice cracking.
She nodded rapidly, but didn’t say anything. Perhaps couldn’t say anything. She buried her face in my chest. We stood there, each lost in our separate thoughts.
Part of the reason I was going to college in the first place was to be able to support Zoe someday. I knew we were too young to get married, or even engaged, but I also knew, without a doubt, she was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. She and I. Womb to tomb. That’s just how it was.
“Besides,” I drew back, hoping my joke would be received well, “you have the perfect opportunity here.”
She wrinkled her cute nose. “How’s that?”
“For the next two years, you can guilt me into about anything. Fancy dinners, presents….”
She shoved me, but her lips hinted at a smile. “I’m not my Aunt Sam.”
“No,” I said seriously. “You’re not.” You’re my Zoe. I bent my head and she stretched to meet me. Soft, tender kisses. My heart went with each one.
The back door whined open and a slice of light cut the yard. “Zoe? Time to come in. You’ve got that biology test tomorrow, and I don’t want to have to deal with Grumpelstiltskin in the morning.”
“Five more minutes,” she insisted.
“Okay.” He used that parenting tone that said, I don’t think this is a good idea, but I’m going to let you make your own mistakes.
“Biology test?” I raised my eyebrows. “We don’t have a biology test tomorrow.”
She giggled. “I told him that so he would think I was studying and not come check on me in my room.”
“Ahh.” We separated, and I offered her my elbow. “May I walk you home?”
Her rosy cheeks became redder. She actually blushed. So damned cute. “Why, yes. You may.” She slid her hand in the crook of my arm and we walked the short distance from her swing set to her back door. I clutched her fingers when we separated and she stepped on the wide, concrete pad leading to a couple of stairs and the kitchen door.
“Man. Your hands are cold.” I rubbed them and looked at the sky. It was crystal clear, the stars chiseled out of their black backdrop, the dark side of the moon outlined in their light. “We’re going to need mittens soon.” When I lowered my head, she grabbed my face and pressed her lips to mine. I wrapped my arms around her, hands on her backside, pushing the kiss further. She took a tiny hop and wrapped her legs around me. I loved that she was so light I could hold her like that. I wanted to hold her like that forever.
Three sharp raps sounded on the window’s glass to our left. I opened my eyes and got a glimpse of Mr. McCord’s frown. I cleared my throat and she dropped her feet to the step below her. “I guess you better go in. Your dad doesn’t look happy.”
She glanced in that direction. “I don’t know what his deal is tonight.” She tugged on the sides of my jacket, reeling me into her again. “Practice in the morning?”
I nodded my head.
She moaned then gave me a wicked smile. “Guess you better give me the kind of kiss that will last me a while, then.”
I was only too happy to oblige. After she went in I shoved my hands in my pockets and set off for my house. I was happy, but it was tinged with sadness at the edges. I figured this was the first of many bittersweet days ahead.
Dani
I jumped, raised my head from on top of my folded arms, and ripped my eyes open. The kitchen wall. Why was I in the—
“You okay?”
I spun around, almost knocking the crown of my head into my husband’s gorgeous face. “What? Am I awake? I mean,” my brain was a tad slow in coming around, “is he awake?”
He rubbed my back. “I put him in the swing on rocket speed. He should be good for a while. Why don’t I call in and—”
I backed the chair away from the kitchen table. “No, Tucker. I’m fine. I only closed my eyes for a few seconds there.” I moved past him to the sink and ran water to wash bottles. I had to supplement the breastmilk Myles was getting with a high calorie formula because of his prematurity. At fifteen dollars a can, we hoped he wouldn’t be on this special diet for long.
Tucker slid his arms around my waist and nuzzled my neck. Simply the feel of his body against mine made my tired muscles sigh. “You know,” his lips brushed my skin, “you don’t have to be Superwoman. We could hire someone to help out.”
I smiled, turned the water off, and twisted to face him. “I know.” I straightened his tie. He looked devilishly handsome in his gray suit. I kissed him. “I should get the kids up.”
“Uhh…they’re at school already.”
“What?” I glanced at the clock on the stove. 9:13. “Oh, my gosh. Why did you let me sleep that long?”
He shrugged, smiling. “You needed it.”
“Yeah, but….” It felt like I’d only closed my eyes for a few minutes. I couldn’t believe half the morning was gone. “Tabby needed a lunch.”
“Got that.”
“And Scooter needed—”
“Some papers signed. Got that, too.”
“But…the kids didn’t get any breakfast.” I looked around as I said it. A cereal bowl and some other dirty dishes sat on the counter, and empty glasses remained on the table.
“Oh, they ate.”
I gasped. “They ate at the table while I was sleeping there?”
He twisted around then walked to the table. “Yup. Your snores covered most of the noise.”
He turned back with the dirty glasses in his hand. I swatted him. “I don’t snore.”
He set the glasses on the counter then drew me into his arms again. “Oh, yes, you do.” I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off. “But they’re very cute snores.”
I grabbed his lapels and jerked him closer. “I’m going to miss you today.”
“Oh?” His eyes lit up.
“Uh-huh.” I kissed him, but before the kiss went much deeper he pulled away.
“I’m serious about getting some help, Dani. I’m worried about you.”
I dodged out of his arms. “I’m fine.” Plugging the sink with one hand, I reached for the Dawn with the other, which made me think about Tara’s visit the previous day. “Did I tell you Tara stopped by yesterday?”
“I feel you’re changing the subject…but, no. That was nice of her.”
I squeezed some Dawn into the water and swirled my hand around to get the lather going. “Yeah. Maybe.”
He got a Handi Wipe to take care of some stray jelly on the counter. Looking at me sideways, he raised an eyebrow. “Maybe?”
“Well,” I contemplated telling him about it while plopping bottles, nipples, rings, and lids into the water. He waited for an answer. “She had this silly proposition for me.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Kind of crazy.”
“In what way?”
“Well, first of all,” getting excited I turned toward him, “did you know Tanya and Robert are pregnant?”
“Really? That’s awesome.”
“Er…Tanya is pregnant. Robert was only the impregnator.”
“Okay, I’m going to burn that image from my brain.”
I laughed then sobered. “But apparently she’s been spotting.”
He frowned. “How serious is that?”
I shrugged. “Can be a sign of problems, or it could be nothing. Doctor’s taking no chances. He has her on bedrest.”
He absorbed that information as he found a dish towel and dried his hands. “Which leaves Tara really short because that girl she didn’t like moved away. She probably would be happy to even have her back.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. Remember that party she had? The Going Away party that the person going away wasn’t invited to?”
He scratched his head with a grimace. “I remember a good portion of that night….”
I laughed. “Yeah. You were hurting.”
“I still say Mike made those margaritas way too strong.”
I raised an eyebrow. “So it was not the quantity you ingested?”
He folded the dish towel carefully and set it back on the counter. “I’m a lawyer. I know my rights. And I’m pleading the fifth on that.”
“Good idea.”
He cocked his head. “So…Tara wants you to work for her.”
My mouth dropped open. “How did you figure that out so fast? It took Tara like a half hour and several ounces of Dawn dish detergent to lead me there.”
“You forget, darling. I’ve had a full night’s sleep. I don’t know why you don’t wake me. I wish I heard him cry, but, as you know, when I sleep, I’m dead to the world.”
“I’m not getting you up. You have to work during the day.”
“So, do you.”
I dipped a shoulder in dismissal. “Anyway. Yes, that’s what Tara wanted. She even got Mrs. McCovey to agree to take Myles while I worked, pro bono.” I added another ring to the towel I had out and became cognizant I was putting everything on the towel in order. A row of bottles, a row of rings, nipples, and the matching lid in columns. That was weird. I purposely put a yellow lid with a green ring.
He rubbed his chin. “That would give you both a break. But I rather you come home and get some sleep.” He stepped behind me again and rubbed my shoulders. “Or go to a spa or something.”
I groaned. His hands were magical. “You’re a prince, you know that?”
He kissed my cheek. “That’s what this one princess keeps telling me.”
I glanced at the towel. The mismatched lid got under my skin, but I pointedly looked the other way, catching the time again. “Honey, you better get going.”
He checked the clock, too. “You’re right. Jeanie will be waiting to kick my butt.”
This was kind of a running joke with him. He made Jeanie out to be some big ogre, when she was actually one of the sweetest people I knew. I moved the lid to its proper place on the towel, irritated I had to do it and couldn’t leave it be.
Tucker paused at the back door, his hand on the knob. “I really think you should consider taking the job, if you think it’s something you’d like to do. Or at least take Mrs. McCovey up on her offer. I’ll pay her whatever she wants.”
“Tucker. I’m not abandoning our son.”
“It’s not abandoning him. You’d be giving yourself a much needed, much deserved break, which would help you to be an even better mom when he’s home. And if it didn’t work out, you could always bow out. You could even take a painting or photography class if you wanted.”
I’d mentioned an interest in both in passing at one point. I was shocked he remembered, but that was how sweet he was. “Well…I’d like to help Tara out. And it would put Tanya’s mind at ease. Then when she was ready to come back, the position would still be there for her.”
He opened the door, wincing as a gust of wind reminded him the temperatures had dropped. “Think about it.”
I smiled at him. “I love you.”
Myles began to cry. Tucker took a step back into the house. I picked up his carefully folded towel and threw it at him. “Get out of here.” I laughed.
“Okay.” He closed the door behind him, but immediately opened it again. “I love you, too, by the way.”
“Go,” I demanded, but my heart was warm. I slipped another towel out of a drawer and dried my hands, watching him out the window as he got into his SUV. He made me so happy. I sometimes felt guilty for being so lucky. But I got over it quickly.
Two weeks later, after as many sleepless nights, my debate was over. I took the position and Myles spent Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings with Mrs. McCovey. It seemed to work out well for both of us as, soon after, he began sleeping through the night. The first time it happened, I was in a panic. I thought maybe he’d suffocated in his crib, or cried himself to death, or something. The better sleep patterns made us all much easier to live with.
And I was already settling into my new job. The kitchen design was remarkably similar to the one I’d worked in before, only with a much larger dishwasher and fewer ovens. We fed about the same number of students, (an average of twenty or so less kids per day), and Tara even employed a lot of the vendors I’d used in the past.
The dress code was identical as the one in my old school—nonexistent. I generally wore jeans in the fall, with a long sleeved tee, and, being the unimaginative rule-follower I was, non-skid shoes. I always layered with a sweat jacket as, when the ovens were on, it was hot; when we went in the freezer, it was, by definition, not.
Tara was doubly short-handed for a while before I came on board. She’d used parent volunteers and substitute teachers—even the vice-principal one day—to fill in the gaps, but that put a lot of extra work on her shoulders, trying to do her job, and explain things to others at the same time. She was very relieved when I agreed to pitch in, and even more pleased when my experience helped me to get up to speed quickly.
This particular morning, I was both eager and anxious about a new employee’s arrival. When working with a small crew day in and day out, it was essential everyone get along well. Even when they did, rough patches would still happen; that was only natural. But daily squabbles could wear on a person. I’d arrived early, as usual, and began by bringing lunch trays out from the dish room to stock the line, and getting the napkin dispenser in place. On my return trip, I glanced at the clock. 8:35. The new kid on the block was supposed to have shown and been ready to work by eight-thirty. I’d been in the building since eight.
Tara was making entries in a log on one of the counter areas.
“When is the new girl going to get here?”
“She’s here,” she said without looking up. “Getting her apron on.”
“Oh.”
Before I could say anything more, someone came around the corner of the wall, tying an apron behind her back. I gawked. It was my best friend, Samantha. Samantha? She was supposed to be back in Illinois, where I’d left her.
“You want me to tray up cookies?” she asked Tara.
Tara lifted her head and smiled. “That would be great.”
As I stood with my mouth hanging open, Sam glanced in my direction. “Hey, Dani.” She walked toward the back ovens. “What’s the lunch count?” she asked over her shoulder.
“We’re starting with a hundred and twenty,” Tara responded before returning to her work. She frowned, as she jotted down information. Feeling like I’d either lost my mind or was stuck in a dream, I slowly followed Sam’s path to the ovens.
I said the first thing that came to mind. “What the hell are you doing here?”
A box of frozen cookie dough sat on the counter, and she was in the middle of putting vinyl gloves on.
She looked at me with a quirked eyebrow. “Cookies.” She shook her head like I was an imbecile for asking, and began putting blobs of cookie dough onto the trays in rows of four.
I stared. My best friend came to work at the same school I was at, without telling me? “What is this? Some kind of joke? Are you and Kyle here for a visit and you’re helping out for the day?”
“Nope. We bought a house. Two blocks from yours,” she added, not looking over.
“What?” Was this even possible? “You’re moving here?”
She turned finally, with a smile. “We’re getting the band back together.”
“Ahh! No way!” I screamed. She ran over to grab me and we jumped around.
Tara’s voice was nearby. She must have followed me and listened in on our conversation behind the side of the oven.
We were all laughing. Tara was bent in half, one arm across her stomach with her legs crossed so she wouldn’t pee. “Oh, my gosh,” she said when she could get her breath. “You should have seen your face.”
I left an arm around Sam’s shoulder as I turned to Tara. “How long have you guys had this planned?”
“Only a few days really,” Tara answered.
Samantha nodded. “When you told me you were back at work, and you guys were still short, I got Tucker to give me Tara’s number.”
“And you just…up and moved?”
“Yeah.” I noted a slight change in her voice, and her smile dimmed a few watts. I studied her, while Tara carried on, oblivious.
After a few minutes, Tara returned to her bookwork, and I began to help Sam with the cookies so we could talk. I gave her another hug. “I can’t believe you did this.”
She shook her head. “Sometimes I can’t believe it either.”
“Did you really buy a house near us?”
“Well, we don’t actually close until next week, but, yes.”
“How did Max take the news?” Maxine was our former boss. “I bet she threw a conniption fit.”
“Uhh…no, actually.” She had adopted that odd tone of voice again. Strained. “She was happy for me.”
Maxi was happy to let her go? Her best employee? Now I knew there was more to the story. I finished my tray of cookies, and carried it over to slide it on a rack. I ran through possible scenarios that resulted in Sam’s move as I came back and started another tray, but none of them made sense. I put my hands on the counter slowly and twisted my head in her direction.
“What’s going on?”
“Hmm?”
She didn’t do innocent well. In fact, she didn’t do innocent at all. “What’s going on? Why did you move here?…Did Bill kick you out of the house?” I was referring to her ex.
“No. In fact, he was fairly supportive of the move. As much as Bill can be supportive.”
I grunted. Bill would only be supportive if something was in it for him. “Now I know something is seriously wrong.”
“Don’t be so suspicious, Dani,” she snapped.
I folded my arms across my chest and stared at her. She continued to persistently place dough on the trays and ignore me.
“Fine.” I returned to my tray. “If you don’t want to talk about it….” I waited for her to break in, but she didn’t, which both astonished and hurt me. “Then I guess we won’t talk about it.”
We silently lined cookies up on trays like little soldiers.
Have we grown apart, and that’s why she’s not telling me?
This awkwardness was so strange between us. I knew Sam was a much more private person than I was. My problem was, I told everyone everything. Early on in our friendship, I figured this difference between us out and decided to not let it get to me. So why was it getting to me now? I answered my own question.
Because I thought we were past all that. That she was comfortable confiding in me.
Sam exhaled, and as if reading my thoughts, spoke. “Dani, I don’t want to talk about it here, now. Okay?”
So it was something that might upset her. That concerned me even more.