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Gayle nodded. “Wasn’t meant to be.”
“What?” I said. “Why wouldn’t it be? I don’t want to go too far in detail, but I haven’t reacted to a woman that way... ever.”
Chris laughed out loud, but Gayle shook her head. “Spare me the details.”
“Can do,” I said.
“What I meant,” she said, “was if it’s meant to be, it will work out. You’ll see her again and get another chance. If not, you won’t and someone even better will come along.”
I wished I believed her. But I didn’t have time to worry about that. No, I had to take care of my son.
* * *
I went farther than usual on my morning run, pushing myself hard to clear my head, then I showered and got ready to go into the Academy. My plan was to get there before most of the students so I could have time to speak with the guidance counselor without Ollie seeing me.
My ex dropped him off at the school Monday mornings, so I didn’t have to worry about explaining to him why I was going inside. Yeah, I wanted to know why he’d been dodging his homework, but this was so out of character for him. More than anything, I wanted to know if he was okay.
When I parked in the lot, the building was just as intimidating as ever—large and imposing with Latin engravings and gothic statues staring at me.
I took the stairs up to the front doors, looking at the inscription.Ad Meliora. Ollie had told me once what it meant, but I always forgot.
Maybe I’d ask his guidance counselor when we were done talking about Ollie.
Right inside the doors was the front office, so I opened the door to see an older woman with short red hair behind the desk. Her name tag said Marjorie Bellows. She looked up at me like she was already disappointed.
“Hi, Ms. Bellows,” I said. “Could you point me in the direction of the guidance counselor’s office?”
“Sure,” she said. “Ms. Melrose’s office is down this hall on the right. It has a bench outside.”
I nodded, getting out of there and taking deep breaths as I went down the tiled hallways. I nodded at a few of the teachers I saw as I walked, said hello to a couple, but I kept my gaze ahead. I needed to get in and out of here before Ollie did.
Ahead on my right, I saw an old wooden bench, and it looked like the door was already open. As I got closer, I heard the most beautiful voice, and my jaw dropped.
18
Birdie
Confession: My bird is my therapist.
“It was awful, Ralphie,” I said, preparing his food and water the next morning. “You wouldn’t believe the dolt my parents tried to set me up with. And the party?” I finished pouring the seed into his dish, then shut the cage door. “An airplane wrote ‘It’s a Girl’ in the sky. I’m surprised Anthea didn’t divorce Doug and our family right then and there.”
“Sounds like a pretty bad party,” a smooth voice said from the doorway.
I turned to see who was there and backed into Ralphie’s cage.
He squawked and flapped his wings in protest, but this was not a time for outrage. It was a time for shock. Pure and utter panic. And maybe ahintof sexual attraction.
“Co-Cohen, what are you doing here?” I stuttered.
He smiled. “I could ask you the same thing.”
“I work here,” I said, turning to straighten Ralphie’s cage and gather myself.
“Who’s this guy?” Cohen asked, peering around me.
“This is Ralphie.” I smiled affectionally at my bird, then back to Cohen. “He’s basically my best friend.” And therapist, I didn’t say.
Cohen chuckled, bringing his finger close to the cage. “I used to have a pet parakeet.”