Page 46 of Learn Your Lesson

He’d all but avoided me since then, which told me it had been a drastic overshare instead of the silly little self-deprecating joke I’d meant for it to be. The girls had found it hilarious when I provided the play by play in the group chat. Of course, Livia had then demanded a voice note explainingeverything.

I divulged the details, but left out the part of that being not just my first time having sex, but myonlytime.

So, yes — I’d gladly taken a night off from the awkward tiptoeing around my disturbed boss. Evidence pointed to the fact that Ineededthe night, too, because my midnight existential crises had turned into midnight fantasies abouta certain long-haired, muscle-covered man whom I could not stop thinking about.

Trouble. With a capital T.

I needed to rein it in.

Still, it had felt quiet all night.Tooquiet. And I couldn’t help the smile that split my face when Ava slid into my room on her fuzzy, sock-covered feet.

I laid my cross-stitch in my lap. “Hello, angel bug.”

Ava had arrived with all the grace of an elephant on roller blades, her eyes wide, breath shallow, hair a mess like she’d run through a dark magical forest to safety. I half-expected her to tell me we had a dragon to fight outside, but instead, she took a moment to compose herself, sweeping her hair out of her face and folding her little hands in front of her lap.

“I need your help,” she informed me, her chin tilting up, face completely neutral.

“I’m at your service.”

I set the cross-stitch aside and made sure my phone was face down on the bed — just in case Livia sent any other photos. Then, I swung my feet over the edge of the bed, patting the spot next to me.

Ava eyed the bed like she was regretting her choice of coming to ask me for help, but then she ambled over, and I helped her climb up next to me. For a while, she stared at where her legs hung off the mattress, her little toes curling in her socks. She, too, was bundled up — and there was something so adorable about seeing her in tiny gray sweatpants and a Tampa Bay Ospreys blue hoodie that swallowed her slight frame.

“I wanna ask Daddy to come to the thing,” she finally said, tucking her hands under her thighs.

I didn’t have to ask for clarification to know whatthe thingwas.

In class today, I’d reminded my rowdy little munchkins that we’d be havingDonuts with Daddyon Friday.

I both loved and hated these types of events. On the one hand, it made the kids happy as clams to have their parents, siblings, or grandparents come into the classroom — attendees dependent on what the theme of the event was.

On the other hand, it was hard to avoid very complex emotions when you had children who perhaps didn’t have both parental figures in their lives, or who knew their parents were too busy to join for days like this.

Of course, we always made sure to show those children extra love, to not give them time to be too sad when the day came. We’d give them extra treats. We’d give them special tasks. And usually, they brought someone to fill the gap — maybe it wasn’t Dad, but it was an uncle, or a family friend.

Still, I could sense Ava’s hesitation and anxiety over even bringing this up to her father. I decided to tread carefully.

“Alright,” I said. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. Your daddy loves donuts, doesn’t he?”

She nodded, but her eyes were still on her little feet.

“How can I help?”

Ava shrugged.

“Do you need me to help you figure out what to say?”

“No,” she said after a moment.

“Okay. Do you need help remembering what day it is, and what time?”

She shook her head.

For a moment, I waited to see if she’d fill in the gaps. When she didn’t, I asked her if I could hold her hand, andwhen she said yes, I pulled that little hand into mine and squeezed it, waiting for her to look up at me.

“You seem a little nervous about asking,” I said. “Is that fair to say?”

We’d talked a lot about what the feelingnervouswas in the first semester of school — mostly because that was a big emotion for half the class.