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As I’m sitting in the driveway, I’m reminded I have no idea where Callan’s school is. All I know is it’s a private school, but I couldn’t tell you where it’s located. “Hey, buddy?”
“Yeah?”
I turn to look back at him after I start my truck. “Can you remind me where your school is?”
He shakes his head but doesn’t look at me. He’s fixated on the screen in front of his face, and I’m strangely glad he’s not reading for once. “El Dorado on 76thstreet.”
Jesus, that’s in Scottsdale.
Checking the time, it’s now nearing 7:30 and it’s going to take at least forty minutes to get there. “What time do you start?”
“8:50.”
Okay, I got this. I can do all of this and prove to Madison I can help.
Noah is so excited to see his babysitter, Trisha, he rushes in her house without so much as a good-bye. I don’t have time to talk to her, so I rush inside, sign him in, kiss his cheeks and then I’m out the door and back in the truck, thankful to be dropping off the little beast with someone else today. I know that’s bad to say, but forgive me, he did stab me this morning.
Ten minutes into our traffic-filled drive to school and that damn movie, I’m wishing Callan would go back to reading. I’m not used to listening to anything but my music on the way to work. I guess maybe I’ve been a little bit selfish in that manner.
My phone rings beside me in the cup holder I have it in, but I don’t answer it through the blue tooth. Mostly because it’s Brantley and he’s not one you can ever put on speaker phone.
“What’s up?”
“Where are you? The drywall is here.”
I gasp. Of all the days for West Ridge Drywall to be on time, it’s today when I’m running late. And I don’t do late, just so we’re clear. I once, in elementary school, gave a tardy slip to my teacher for not starting class the exact minute it was set to begin. You can probably sense my mood today based on that information right there, and the fact that my wife of the last eight years told me she didn’t love me last night.
“I’m dropping off Callan at school and then I’ll be there.”
Brantley’s quiet for a minute and then chuckles. “So I take it last night didn’t go well?”
“I’ll see you in an hour,” I tell him, hoping he can sense Callan’s in the truck with me, given I just told him that, but this is Brantley we’re talking about, and he’s sometimes not so bright on the hidden messages.
“Fine. Stop by the office though and pick up the electrical permits there.”
“Why? They should be at the jobsite already.”
“Theywere, but Steve never showed up last night, and I accidently took them back to the office and forgot them.”
Damn it. “Fine. See you in two hours then.”
Tossing the phone in the seat next to me, Callan’s laughter floats through the truck. He’s always had the cutest laugh to the point when you hear it, you immediately smile. Doesn’t matter if you’re running late.
I smile at him in the rearview mirror, watching his eyes light up as he watches his movie. I don’t know why, but I think back to the day Madison told me she was pregnant with him.
We were still in college, actually just starting summer break before our senior year when she came knocking on my door, red faced and crying. I knew immediately something was up but her being pregnant definitely wasn’t what I was thinking. We’d been seeing each other since that Halloween party, but had yet to move in together or even take our relationship past dating and fucking.
It changed that day when she said, “I’m pregnant.” Actually blurted it out while giving me a blow job and handed me the pee stick.
From then on, my plans changed. I knew I’d have my own business and I wanted to be with Madison, but once she told me she was pregnant, I asked her to marry me. No way did I want her raising this kid alone or thinking she was alone. Like I said, my mother was constantly alone and I wouldn’t have Madison going through that too.
Obviously she said yes and in November, after being together a year, we got married. In February, Callan was born, and three years later, we had Noah.
BY THE TIMEwe get to Callan’s school, I’m rushing to get him out of the truck and realize I didn’t pack him a lunch. Shit. Was I supposed to?
I stop as we’re walking into the school, moms surrounding me and I’m almost embarrassed to ask. “Wait, what do you eat during the day?”
He looks up at me with those wide blue eyes. “I usually eat what Mommy gives me, but I can eat school lunch too. Just tell the office lady.”