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THREE

MARA

SEPTEMBER

Of course, the day Los Angeles decided it would be cute to rise above its standard seventy-two degrees, my car’s air conditioning gave up the ghost. By the time I pulled up to Aspen’s school, my armpits, underboobs, and even my effing eyelids were sweating.

I grabbed a Taco Bell napkin from my glovebox and dabbed all the dampness away. I checked my makeup, which was only partially sliding off my face. I practiced my pleasant can-do customer service voice while wiping mascara smears from under my lashes.

Whatever this is, I’m sure we can all work it out.

I got buzzed in at the school’s office. I flashed a bright smile at the receptionist. “I’m Mara O’Connell, here for Aspen?”

“The girl’s dad just beat you here,” she grumbled. “Go on back.”

I breathed a mental sigh of relief that it was Harper’s dad and not her mom. The last time I tried to talk to her mom at a birthday party, I felt like I’d never been judged so hard in my life. She acted nice, but everything she said felt like it had a hidden barb behind it. It was probably the equivalent of talking to a snake.

Harper’s dad, while not being overly bubbly, seemed at least like a decent guy. He picked Harper up from that same birthday party. Harper had already broken some trinket out of her party favor bag and was upset about it. Rather than telling her to stop whining or worse, yelling at her, he’d crouched down to her level, listened to her concerns, and helped her try to put it back together. When it didn’t work, I heard him say something like, “It’s a bummer when things break, eh?” Then he kissed her forehead and they headed out. It was simple, and sweet, and very much not like Harper’s mom.

Granted, that was parenting in a room full of parents, but it didn’t feel performative. He didn’t even seem to notice the room around him.

Sitting in the principal’s office, it was clear he didn’t care what anyone thought. I quickly clocked his clothes: a sweaty black shirt with the sleeves cut off emblazoned with “L.A. Princes” and a pair of purple shorts. Messy curls poked out from under his backwards hat, days-old scruff dotting his face.

But Harper’s dad wasn’t my main focus.

I locked eyes with Aspen when I walked in, who immediately cast his gaze to the floor. I kissed the top of his head as I sat in the chair between him and Harper’s dad. “You alright, buddy?”

Aspen muttered a non-committal sound. A woman in a chair across the room scoffed, her daughter sitting on her lap.

“Hi,” I said, sheepishly extending my hand. “I’m Mara, Aspen’s mom.”

“Kristin,” the woman scowled. “Serena’s mom.”

She returned to her work of fussing over Serena’s angelic hair. Her brow would have creased, but she seemed to have enough botulin in it to prevent any such natural movement.

No shade on those who love the ‘Tox, but as a single mom, I had neither the time nor the spare money to worry about things like wrinkles in my mid-thirties. I was lucky to be able to keep our apartment and have enough money for Aspen’s hockey. I sure as hell wasn’t getting child support from Bryce.

Harper’s dad was in the chair next to me. From Bryce, I knew he was some big famous hockey player. Getting a longer look, I noted he was dressed like he’d just come from his eighteenth set at the gym or maybe his twelfth hour at the tattoo parlor.

The missing sleeves revealed a multitude of tattoos, including something creeping up the side of his neck. That’s something I didn’t see when he was bundled up at the rink, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think it was sexy as hell. I reached for his densely tattooed hand and shot him a warm smile. “Mara.”

I resisted the more feral voice bubbling from my reproductive system, screaming, “ Hell-ooo, Daddy .”

This man’s eyes were frosty cold, with a white scar in his otherwise dark eyebrow. His face was covered in a matching dark scruff peppered through with a few salts, complementing the loosely controlled mop of dark curly hair on his head. He flashed his attempt at a grin, which looked more like a dog baring its teeth. “Jack.”

His hand met mine like he was going to do some elaborate sports handshake thingie. The informality and playfulness of it despite our circumstances brought a blush to my cheeks.

There would be no hitting on Aspen’s friend’s dad, but I could at least admire the scenery. “Great to finally officially meet you. Aspen’s said so much about you.”

The frigid eyes got the slightest warmth to them as Jack bent to catch Aspen’s eye. “Oh yeah?”

Aspen did not have such a cool guy response, completely lighting up under Jack’s attention. He nodded and Jack extended his tattooed knuckles to Aspen. “Put ‘er there, bud.”

Aspen pounded Jack’s rock and the principal cleared her throat. “I’m Sharon, or Mrs. Springfield. Nice to meet you, Kristin and Mara,” she turned to Jack, “and good to see you, Jacques.”

“It’s Jack,” he grumbled, hostility seeping through his tone.

Sharon gave a brief nod and sat back in her rolling desk chair that had seen better days. “It’s come to my attention that there’s been a conflict between Harper, Aspen, and Serena.”

“I’m sure we can work this out,” I said with the previously practiced smile.

“There’s nothing to ‘work out,’” Jack bit. “Serena’s been bullying Harper, and she finally got what was coming to her.”

My eyes widened and I stifled a shocked laugh.

“Excuse me?” Serena’s mom gasped, putting a hand to her chest.

“Yeah, karma’s a bitch!” Jack went on. “Maybe try teaching your kid that if she’s obsessed with my daughter, she should try not being a complete and utter dick to her. I told Harper to fight back.”

“Mr. Leroy!” Sharon exclaimed. “We do not condone fighting at this school, and we do not use foul language or call children names.”

“Maybe just the parents should talk,” I tried, but Jack was going back in.

“It’s Jack,” he said. “And I’m not putting up with this routine where we pretend like my kid and Mara’s kid are in the wrong when Serena’s been doing everything her kindergarten brain can come up with to make Harper and Aspen miserable.”

“They cut her hair!” Kristin shouted. “It looks ridiculous now!”

“Yeah, well, maybe she should have considered the consequences of pushing Harper off the playset the other day,” Jack barked, throwing out an exasperated hand. “I can’t be here to keep your kid in line, so I tell Harper to do what she needs to do.”

“Which is to take scissors to her head?” Kristin’s cheeks reddened.

Jack barely lifted a single shoulder. “Get her where it hurts.”

Aspen had a look of utmost admiration in his eyes looking at Jack, and frankly, I was slightly horrified but mostly impressed. I always wanted to be the kind of person who could stand up to a bully instead of trying to rationalize with them.

But most importantly, I needed to get back to work.

“Aspen, you shouldn’t cut someone’s hair,” I said as my phone buzzed again in my pocket. I flicked a glance at the screen. It was the store’s admin, surely telling me how far behind I was in meetings. “You won’t do it again, right?”

Aspen shook his head.

“Of course he should do it again,” Jack said, his brow bunching. “If Serena doesn’t quit acting like a complete?—”

“Jack,” Sharon warned.

“If Serena doesn’t start behaving in a neighborly way ,” Jack said with a false smile, “she will get a consequence.”

“That’s not what consequence means in this school. Vigilante justice is not discipline.”

Jack leaned back, casually putting his arm around Harper. “You mean, your kid just gets to act like a?—”

“Mr. Leroy,” Sharon cut in.

“Act out ,” Jack simpered with a lean toward Sharon, “and get away with it because you think the solution to her physical violence is gentle parenting? No.”

If I had all day and this didn’t involve me or Aspen, this would have been a highly entertaining conversation, perfect for popcorn. But that was not the case, and I needed this nonsense resolved ASAP.

“I think maybe we’re getting away from the point,” I tried. “We haven’t covered what happened.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Canton,” Sharon said.

“Miss O’Connell,” I corrected. Jack’s eyes flicked my way and his jaw feathered.

“Mara,” Sharon said evenly, the tone of a woman trying to keep from losing her marbles. “Let’s let the kids talk about what happened before we debate the course forward.”

“They cut my hair,” Serena squeaked. Okay, fine, the kid was cute. But I knew from Aspen she’d been going after Harper, so that angelic exterior was false.

“You pushed Harper,” Aspen interjected.

“Okay, tree boy,” Serena retorted.

My mouth popped open. Yes, an aspen is a type of tree. A beautiful tree for my beautiful little boy.

“What did you call him, child?” Jack growled, sitting forward. I put my hand over his on the arm of his chair, maybe trying to prevent him from actually throttling this kid. “You will not make fun of my daughter’s best friend’s name.”

“Okay,” Serena mumbled.

I hardly noticed because Jack’s fingers curled under my grip. My cheeks burned hot as Jack’s hand slid out from under mine.

Why, in the name of the lord baby Jesus, was I still holding my son’s best friend’s dad’s hand?

“Sir, you are not my daughter’s teacher nor are you her father. You do not get to talk to her that way.”

My phone buzzed again. I really, very badly needed to get back to work. The sweat that plagued me on the drive to the school erupted again. “Look, I left a bunch of meetings to be here. Can we all just apologize and move on?”

“Yeah, what she said,” Jack said.

“Mr. Leroy, Miss O’Connell,” Sharon said, “I’m afraid we have to suspend Harper and Aspen for this behavior. We have a zero-tolerance policy for bullying.”

“Suspended?” I gasped.

“What’s suspended?” Aspen asked, his eyes rounding. I took his hand to reassure him. There was a collective flinch when Jack let out his next statement.

“They’re in fucking kindergarten!” Jack objected. “They’re supposed to be learning their ABCs, not getting suspended!”

Panic washed over me. I didn’t have backup childcare. My kids went to school and daycare, and that was it. My closest friend was Gabi, and she was a teacher at their school. She couldn’t help me with this one. “For how long? I can’t take Aspen to work with me!”

Sharon scrubbed her hands over her face. “You know what? Let’s just make it for the rest of the day, and I’ll think about what to do next. You’re all giving me a headache.”

“The bully should get suspended too!” Jack raged.

“She’s a victim!” Kristin said. “Not a bully!”

Jack rolled his eyes and shot her a look. “Get off your high horse.”

“Everybody out!” Sharon snapped. I guess even principals of peaceful little Montessori schools have a breaking point, and we drove her right over it. “I’ll call each of you tonight to discuss a resolution because, apparently, we can’t have an adult conversation in here without it going off the rails.”

It was a sullen walk to the parking lot, all of us with a hand on our child’s shoulder. Kristin made a point of stomping off to her Escalade as quickly as possible. I fought an eye roll at her theatrics. My mind was racing anyway. What was I supposed to do with Aspen for the rest of the day? I could probably have him in my office, but it was embarrassing to have to explain to suppliers why he was there.

“Do I have to go to work with you?” Aspen asked.

“I think so, buddy,” I said.

Jack’s voice piped up behind us. “Aspen, you wanna come over?”

“Wait, what?” I asked.

Jack shrugged. “You have to go back to work, right?”

“Well, yeah.”

“I’m finished with work for today. I can take him. They can play together at our house.”

Harper’s eyes lit up and Aspen ran over to give her a big hug. They really were the cutest kids together.

“I, uh, wow. Um, I don’t really know you,” I said.

“Please, Mom?” Aspen asked. “I always want a playdate with Harper and we can never work it out.”

I pulled Jack to the side, getting us and our kids back on the sidewalk and out of the parking lot. “I usually don’t let him go with strangers. Because . . . safety.”

Jack nodded, popping his jaw forward and back. “I get it. I can tell you I’m safe, but how would you know?”

I rubbed my lips together. He was saying everything I was thinking. And I’d seen him be kind, both to his daughter, and to my son when he needed it most. That day at the rink last spring when Jack taped Aspen’s socks, it wasn’t just tape he needed. He needed a man who wasn’t going to throw a tantrum over something silly.

Though, that same man had also just thrown something of a tantrum in the principal’s office . . . but on behalf of our kids. He was fighting for them, not against them.

“Well,” he said, reaching for Harper’s hand to go back to their car.

“Mom, pleeeeease,” Aspen said. My little baby had just had a rough day at school, and his friend’s dad was offering help. He’d get some time to play with his best friend, and I’d be able to finish up my day at work. I was already on thin ice there, having been caught once before with Hazel in the office on a sick day. I couldn’t afford to lose my job.

My gut told me it was safe. He showed up on time to the kids’ hockey practices, except the times Harper’s mom was there. But when she was there, his other two cronies were missing, and I’d heard from another hockey mom that they were on his team too. The three of them stood on the goal line and shouted various coaching tidbits at the kids, Jack being the loudest of them.

Still, he showed up for his kids. That was a hell of a lot more than Bryce was doing for our kids.

“You’d need his car seat,” I called after Jack. “They’re hard to get out of my car. And I’ll probably be late leaving work, and I’ve got to pick up my daughter from daycare by 5.”

My lower back screamed anticipating the hell that was installing and uninstalling a car seat. Even if Jack got them out, I’d likely be getting them back in by myself.

Jack shrugged. “I’ll get it out for you. And uh, just give me the address and I can get your daughter.”

He was just . . . going with it. I stood wide-eyed and dazed. I’d have to call the daycare to say Jack was authorized to pick up Hazel, maybe fill out a form.

He was waiting for me to move on. “Where’s your car?” he asked, my phone ringing yet again. “I can get both car seats. I’ve got a big car. And you’ll probably have to call the daycare to let them know I’m not a kidnapper.”

“Um, before we do that,” I started, “can I Google you? I know you’re probably not a criminal but?—”

Jack didn’t laugh at me. He just nodded. “I get it. Go for it. I’ll pull my car around while you’re doing that. Just point to which one’s yours.”

I sucked in a breath. It was so very rare that I ever had help outside of Gabi. It would be a real break to have someone else pick up the slack now.

“Right over there.”