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Jacqueline: Maybe. But how about you don’t focus on that? You always overthink everything. What if you just did what you wanted to do and didn’t obsess over what could possibly happen next?
Me: Because this is bigger than just me!
Jacqueline: Look, you’ve put everyone first your entire life. You never do anything just for you.
Me: It’s called being considerate of other people and their feelings.
Jacqueline: What about your feelings? More specifically the warm and tingly ones you get when you look at Hot Daddy Rowan?
Me: Can you stop calling him that?!
Jacqueline: Why? It’s foreshadowing of what you’ll be calling him in a few weeks.
“What are you making?” I’m typing out my reply when his words cut through the silence and my head snaps up to look at him. He’s still sweaty from his workout but he’s at least put on a shirt and I find myself simultaneously grateful and disappointed for that. He walks by me to the refrigerator and I try not to breathe when he passes me but I still get a whiff of that masculine sweaty scent.
“Ummm…” I pause, having momentarily forgotten what I’m making while I was trying not to ogle him. “Lasagna soup.”
“Sounds good.” He takes a long sip of water. “I have a call that got moved to two-thirty now, so I will need you to pick up SJ and Isla…if you can.” He adds as an afterthought, like it would be an inconvenience for me to do my literal job.
“Yes, of course.” Neither one of us says anything for a second, and I feel the heat starting to creep up my neck toward my cheeks. “Was there something else?” I ask.
“No…ummm…” He looks off to the side like he’s searching for something to say. “Isla really loved her hair. She talked about it the whole way to school. Thank you for…doing that. I’m terrible at it and Margot is usually gone by the time Isla wakes up.” He trails off. “Her mom was always the one to do it and I know that’s just one of the many things she misses. I’m glad that this is maybe one less thing she doesn’t have to miss.” He smiles before giving me a curt nod and then he’s out of the kitchen and heading back toward his room.
I am so screwed.
I don’t see him for the rest of the day—something I’m slightly disappointed about—and I still hear him on his call when I’m preparing to go pick them up from school so I send him a text.
Me: Leaving now to go pick up Sawyer and Isla! Is there anything you need me to do on the way home?
I’m barely out of the front door before he responds.
Mr. Kincaid: No, thanks. See you in a bit.
I’m at the school ten minutes before school lets out just like always. Hearing Isla tell her dad not to be late sent a feeling of disappointing nostalgia through me. It wasn’t often, but I remember being one of the last kids left at school before my younger sister, Emily, started. On both occasions, my parents thought the other was picking me up and I was left at school thirty minutes after the next to last kid was picked up. I remember feeling embarrassed and also like a burden to the teachers who had to wait with me.
The worst.
I rarely have had to pick kids up from school but I always vowed to make sure I was on time or early if I ever did.
I’m reading a book on my phone while I wait when I notice a woman walking toward my car. It’s not the same woman that introduced herself last week…Abigail something? But she is one who was in that group of women who were undoubtedly sizing me up. I roll my window down as she approaches and give her a smile. “Hi.”
“Oh, I wasn’t expecting you today since Rowan dropped them off.” She blinks her shimmering blue eyes at me which probably have most men in a daze.
Do they have a tracker on this man or something?
“Oh, well. I’m here.” I giggle nervously, trying my best to keep the conversation lighthearted.
She tucks a dark strand behind her ear. “We just didn’t get a chance to finish talking and…I wanted him to have this.” She hands me a neatly folded piece of paper. “This is…kind of embarrassing, having you be the middleman and all. It’s like high school all over again.” She shoots me a dazzling smile revealing perfectly straight teeth and I can’t quite tell if it’s genuine.
I look down at the paper in my hand and try to ignore the tiny pang of annoyance shooting through me. “I’ll make sure he gets it.”
“This might be totally inappropriate but…woman to woman…you’ve been there a couple of weeks now, and I’m just curious, do you know if he’s seeing anyone?”
“Oh…uhh I have no idea.”And even if I did, I certainly wouldn’t tell you so it could be the topic of gossip amongst all of the mothers in the parent-teacher administration.
“I see. Well, if you could just give him that and tell him Corinne says hi.” She raises a hand to wave and when I turn in the direction she’s looking, I notice the kids have started to file out of the building. “Thanks again, sweetie,” she says before she walks toward a little girl who is walking toward us. I try not to let her words feel like a condescending dig but irritation flares through me.
I get out of the car when I see Isla walking toward the car and I’m impressed that her braids are still intact. “They didn’t fall out!” she says and I nod, grateful that her hair is thicker and also that I’d used a little bit of hairspray. “It looks so pretty!” She holds up her hand and I give her a high-five.