“Do you even know how to pronounce some of the ingredients on that label?” I asked as I came up behind her, nearly whispering into her ear.
She shuddered, froze, and then placed the salad dressing bottle back in the empty spot on the shelf. She turned to face me, squaring her shoulders as if to gather her courage to face me. “No. And I don’t really care to try. I was just hoping you wouldn’t see me and would keep walking.” She didn’t allow me a chance to become offended before the corners of her lips turned up.
“Oh, it’s like that now? We can’t be friendly and say hello when we see each other?” I teased back. “Listen, I know this is awkward and weird. I mean, we had a relationship, a real relationship, and then we’ve both spent years apart without an ounce of closure. But I don’t want to avoid you in public. I don’t want to turn the other way if I happen to find myself in the same aisle as you.”
Her shoulders relaxed as she focused on the floor. “I don’t know how to act around you, Axel. I don’t know what you want me to say. We got everything out the other day. Why do we have to keep talking?” She held onto her shopping basket as if it protected her…the way I should have.
I glanced at the silver band on her finger and waited for her to turn her attention back to me. “Before we realized our feelings for each other, we were friends. Talking was never hard for us.”
“You want to be friends?”
“I want something, Bree. I know I can’t have you the way I did before, and that we can’t have that kind of relationship again…but I want something. Something to prove that what we did share wasn’t imaginary.” I wanted to smack myself for sounding so weak, so pussy-whipped. But in reality, that’s what I was.
“I don’t think that’s a very good idea. We’ve proved that we can’t be just friends. We know all too well how destructive we are together.”
“That’s a lie, and you know it. We were never destructive together.”
“Okay, maybe you’re right. But that doesn’t change how being together nearly destroyed us both. I don’t know about you, but I can’t handle another disaster like that.” She lowered the basket, dropping it at her side. “I don’t know what you expect, Axel.”
I mentally chastised myself. What did I think she’d say? She was married, which meant I had no business in her life at all. She had a point, and even though I didn’t want to give in, I had no choice but to concede. “I get it. But knowing you’re here, seeing you out and about, makes me feel like my right arm has been cut off and dangled in front of my face.”
She licked her lips and met my eyes with her sad gaze. “I know the feeling. Which only makes it harder to talk to you and play nice. Sometimes, the best thing to do is the same thing that hurts the most.”
Heavy emotion clogged my throat. I wanted to ask her so many things, but my time was up. Our moment had passed, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. I had to suck it up, pull on my big-boy pants, and accept the consequences of my actions, regardless of the regret I’d held over them.
I nodded once to her, and without a word, turned and walked away with my tail tucked tightly between my legs. The only thing that helped me remain calm was an overwhelming feeling that Fate was not done with us quite yet.
That evening, I received a phone call from the school I’d been subbing at. They had a teacher that suffered a heart attack and was hospitalized, and they needed a long-term substitute with the possibility of permanency. I accepted without hesitation.
I walked into the classroom feeling lighter, better, knowing this would be the new start I needed. And the students didn’t let me down. Teaching kindergarten wasn’t the easiest, and I knew a lot of teachers that refused to take on the challenge. I also had a lot of teachers ask me why I’d chosen primary education. I could never tell them the real reason, only that I loved kids and wanted to point them in the right direction as early as possible. It was believable, and partially the truth. I’m sure there’d be complaints had I admitted that teaching five-year-olds protected me from falling in love with a student, losing my job, and becoming an alcoholic…again. So I decided to keep that to myself.
All in all, the kids were good, very well behaved. They responded well to having a new teacher, and listened to the directions I gave without having to be reminded too many times. I’d substituted other kindergarten classes before, and sometimes had to repeat myself a lot. But not with this group of kids. It only served to fuel the positive attitude I’d taken on after my conversation with Bree in the grocery store.
I was in the midst of gathering my belongings to head home when the door to my room opened. One of the ladies from the office walked in, holding the hand of a little girl from my class. “Mr. Taylor, do you mind waiting with Ayla? Her mother didn’t come to pick her up. We’ve called her, and she’s on her way. But the office is closed and I’m the last one left. I’ve waited as long as I can. She should be here soon.”
I glanced down at the little towhead and winked. “Of course. I’ll walk with her to the front of the school and wait for her. I’m sure she’ll come there first.” I grabbed my briefcase off my desk and headed out the door with Ayla at my side.
She reached out and held my hand, startling me.
“Don’t be scared. I’m sure there’s a good reason why she hasn’t come yet. She’ll be here any minute.” We walked to the end of the hall, right in front of the main doors, and took a seat on the floor.
She sat across the hall from me, her back against the wall, and I mirrored her position so that we faced each other. I had my legs out in front of me, and she did the same. It was only my first day in the class, and it takes longer than that to know all twenty kids, but Ayla stuck out to me from the beginning. She was a very smart girl, kept to herself, and finished all her work without needing to be asked twice. Normally, it’s the kids you have to constantly get after that leave a lasting impression on you, and not always a positive one…but with Ayla, just her calm temperament and quiet voice were enough to make me remember her.
Looking at her, I noticed her blond, nearly white curls that seemed almost too big for her face. She wore a barrette that pulled them back and showed off her eyes. They were the clear color of the Caribbean ocean, aqua almost. The most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen. I couldn’t even begin to tell her heritage, though. Her skin tone was light, but not porcelain; it had a slightly darker shade. She had maybe ten freckles dusted across the bridge of her nose. There was no arguing that she was a cute kid. I didn’t envy her parents at all, knowing they’d have to chase the boys away from her when she got older.
Ever since Bree, I had a hard time not taking mental notes when it came to my students. I’d find myself studying their skin, checking for bruises or warning signs of abuse—more so than any normal teacher. And especially now that I taught younger children, I felt the need to watch out for them even more. I hated how Aubrey’s mother had gotten away with it for so long, and I never wanted anyone to ever have to go through that. I also had grown a lot and matured since Bree. I knew the steps I needed to follow if I ever came across another case of abuse again.
“Does this happen a lot? How often does your mommy forget to pick you up?” I asked in a calm, curious tone, hoping to gain her trust enough for her to open up to me. No matter how old they were, I always spoke to my students as if conversing with an adult. I never babied the younger ones by using a cooing tone with them. But I knew that when gaining the trust of a young child, sometimes you needed to be more on their level. Give them comfort, and they give you their trust.
Ayla shook her head. “Papa usually picks me up on Mondays. He takes me for ice cream. He says it’s our day. He’s never forgotten before.”
I assumed she must’ve been talking about her dad. From what I’d seen, joint custody could be a bitch. Every time I encountered a situation like this, where the parents are at odds and the child ends up in the middle, forgotten at school, it makes me thankful for the parents I had and the upbringing they gave me and my sister.