17
LIA
“Is everyone holding onto their partner’s hand?” I asked, glancing back at the procession of preschoolers trailing behind me.
Today was our class field trip to the library, and I somehow managed to convince the powers-that-be at Vivatin Day to forego the standard practice of chartering a bus and instead let my class make the short trek across the park by foot. My class had made it out of the schoolyard and down the street, then managed to stick together as we followed one of the scenic transverses that cuts through the park.
Now, before we left the serene oasis of the park and stepped back onto a bustling and noisy city street, I quickly scanned my eyes over the line of students to make sure that everyone was still coupled up. I saw thirty pairs of impatient eyes blinking up at me, eager to proceed towards the library.
I also spotted Harper standing near the back of the line. When our eyes met she gave me a little wink and a smile. I returned the gesture, then finished surveying the line of students.
“All clear back here!” Polly called from the back of the line, where she was joined by two burly security guards, a mandatory precaution, sanctioned by the school for all field trips and class outings.
“Stay close, and remember to look both ways before you cross the street,” I told my troops. Then I lead us out of the park and across the crosswalk.
We were about halfway down the next block and I was just about to glance back again to check on my students, but before I got the chance I heard the familiar sound of Harper squealing. I immediately twirled around and my eyes dart to Harper’s spot in the line, but she wasn’t there anymore. There was an empty spot in the line where Harper was supposed to be. Her partner was standing alone, hand empty, staring to the side.
I jerked my head in the direction that she was staring, and I was immediately relieved when my eyes find Harper. Her nose is pressed onto the glass window of a small cafe.
“Look!” she squealed, hammering her little fist against the window, “It’s Uncle Benjamin!”
I glanced through the window and sure enough, I saw Benjamin sat directly on the other side of the glass. For a split second, my heart started to hammer in my chest, filling with the usual giddy excitement that I felt anytime I was near Benjamin.
That excitement quickly dies when I saw that Benjamin was sharing a table at the cafe with a woman. A busty, blonde, beautiful woman.
My mind couldn’t help but race back to all the gossip sites and tabloid stories I found on Google the other day. To the countless pictures of Benjamin with blonde actresses and models and professional party girls. I felt my heart stutter in my chest, straining with strange, undefined shock.
Before I could fully process what I was witnessing, Harper lurched towards the cafe doors, throwing them open and leapt into the restaurant. I glanced back at Polly who, through a look of wide-eyed horror, gave me an affirmative nod to follow Harper inside.
I thought my heart might burst out of my chest from how hard it was pounding as I pulled open the cafe door and stepped inside.
Harper had already made it across the cafe to Benjamin, and she stood at the edge of his table with her arms wrapped around him in a hug. His eyes flicked up as I shuffled towards the table, and I saw the panic in his face. I wasn’t supposed to be here; we weren’t supposed to be here.
My eyes moved across the table, to his ‘date.’ I could see her better now than I could through the glass. Up close, I saw how the thick paint of her makeup looked garish and greasy, packed into the crevices of her face. I saw the dark brown roots sprouting up like specks of pepper sprinkled through her crunchy head of thin, brittle salon-blonde hair. I saw the strain of her bra, working overtime to hoist her giant fake tits up to her chin.
And somehow, even though she was hideous and fake and oozing with desperation, I felt somehow inadequate. Was this what Benjamin wanted? Because if it was, well, how could I ever compete? I did not have the caked on makeup, the fake blonde hair, the acrylic nails, the tits. And even though I found her repulsive, I felt suddenly self-conscious in my khaki pants and Vivatin Day sweater.
I was just plain old Lia Lewis. I was just a pre-school teacher.
“What are you doing here?” Benjamin asked Harper, refusing to meet my eyes.
“We’re on a field trip,” I answered for her. “To the library. We were just walking past, when Harper spotted you through the window--”
“You can come with us!” Harper told Benjamin joyfully.
“I wish I could,” he said, ruffling Harper’s hair affectionately. “But I’ve got to work, kiddo.”
“This isn’t where you work!” Harper frowned. I couldn’t help but feel a stab of loyal pride for the little girl, she had never been shy about calling someone out.
“This is a work meeting,” Benjamin explained, then he gestures across the table to his ‘date.’ “Miss Owens here is a journalist from the Charleston Times, and she’s asking me some questions so that she can write an article about me.”
“You must be Harper!” the woman beamed, stretching her shiny pink lips into a repulsive sneer of a smile. “My name is Julia! Your uncle has been telling me so much about you!”
Julia offered her hand for Harper to shake, but Harper just looked at it skeptically and frowned. Then she flung herself towards me, wrapping her arms around my legs and angling her chin up so she blinked at me with her giant, pleading eyes.
“Please make Uncle Benjamin come with us,” she whispered loudly up at me.
“Uncle Benjamin has to do grown-up stuff right now,” I said, placing a hand on her shoulder and hoping that she’d understand. That she wouldn’t feel as crushed as I do. “But you can tell him all about the library when you go home tonight!”
“Will you be there too?” Harper asked.
“Well, I…” I stammered, unsure of what to say. My eyes flicked up to Benjamin, and I saw his jaw pressed together firmly as his eyes darted between Julia and me.
“Of course not, Harper,” he said. “You know Miss Lewis can’t come home with us.”
“Nuh-uh!” Harper cried, frowning. “Lia always comes over for dinner!”
Julia’s eyes lit up across the table.
“Is Lia your nanny, Harper?” she asked, and I had to fight the incredibly strong urge to dump Julia’s sickly pink cocktail down the front of her flashy blouse.
“No,” Harper shook her head. “She’s Uncle Benjamin’s girlfriend.”
It was hard to tell who was more shocked. Benjamin, Julia, or me. I immediately felt my face turn hot pink, matching the shade of Julia’s cocktail. Benjamin’s eyes went wide and I couldn’t decide whether he looked more flustered or pissed.
“That’s not true, Harper,” Benjamin said sternly. Then he turned to Julia. “Actually, Miss Lewis is just Harper’s pre-school teacher.”
And there it was.
The truth.
The ugly, bitter, undeniable truth.
Whatever happened between Benjamin and I behind closed doors, whatever fantasy world I had been living in, where we had homemade spaghetti dinners and hot sex after bedtime, it didn’t matter. Because in the real world, I was just the teacher. Nothing more.
I was not usually one to be at a loss for words, but as I stared down at Julia and Benjamin, fighting back to the tears that were stinging at my eyes, that was exactly what I was. I was speechless. There was no witty, biting retort on the tip of my tongue. So I grabbed Harper’s hand and pulled her out of the cafe.
The rest of the class had already moved on. I saw them a block ahead of us, following Polly as she took over leading them to the library. I reminded myself to thank her for that later.
“Let’s go, Harper,” I said, softening my grip on her hand and using my free hand to wipe the tears from my eyes, hoping to be subtle.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, squinting up at me. “Why did Uncle Benjamin lie?”
“He didn’t lie, Harper,” I said, as I felt the stab of pain rip through my heart again. That was the kicker, he didn’t lie at all. “I’m not his girlfriend.”
“You are,” Harper insisted. “Boyfriends and girlfriends love each other.”
Before I could correct her, I heard footsteps slapping on the pavement behind us.
“Lia, wait,” it was Benjamin. He just ran from the restaurant and chased us halfway down the block.
“Please,” he said. “Let me explain…”
“There’s nothing to explain,” I said, aware that Harper was listening. “Because, as I was just telling Harper, there’s nothing going on between us. You said so yourself, I’m just the teacher.”
“Lia…”
“I’d prefer it if you called me Miss Lewis,” I said. Then I took one last look at the sadness softening through his face before I turned my back and led Harper away.