Charlotte

When my eyes confirm I am not seeing double or what isn’t really there, my brain processes the situation and tries to come up with a way out of it.

Worse than the scenarios I always imagined, the worst possible way the inevitable would happen. Because I may have made the wrong decision, and I always knew the truth would have to come out at some point. Maybe not like this. Not when I don’t have the proper time to realize how much my daughter looks like her father.

“Ms. Belmont, please come in. Kimberly.” It’s Principal Green who reminds me of what I should be doing here. And it is still hard for me to draw my eyes away from Lowell, who is staring me down with the clear pools of his blue eyes like he has never seen me before. Or that he almost doesn’t want to be looking at me at all.

“Thank you.” I straighten myself out finally and take Kimberly’s hand in mine. “Come on.” I give her my stern look so she will follow me, and she does slowly. Her principal stands in the center of her doorway, her hard look and regal appearance all but familiar to me by now.

“I want to stay with my friend,” Kimberly gripes. Not to my surprise, she tries to twist her hand out of mine, and I let her, but she still stands in place. When I brave a look at Lowell again, his look is less pained because Kimberly is watching him. His eyes fleet up from mine down to her, and he forces a smile.

“Stay with your mom, kid. I’ll see you outside,” he says to her in a tone I’ve never heard but don’t question.

“I hate the outside,” Kimberly mutters, and she acts like I am not even here anymore. I glance at her principal with a tight smile, and she only sets her jaw and clears her throat.

“Okay,” Kimberly finally says and smiles. I watch him smile back at her and don’t get another look at him because the main door opens again, this time with their coach coming through. The brief exchange between him, the principal, and the coach ends with him leaving and staring back at me long enough for the door to close right between us again.

“Ms. Belmont, I don’t have much time.” Principal Green leads us both into her office. I make sure Kimberly keeps quiet, as hard as it is, and listen to yet another account of her ‘disrupting class’ with her talking.

In so many words, I ask why she is the only one getting in trouble when she obviously isn’t talking to herself when this happens. I have to go into my usual spiel on my daughter being singled out, which always gets the principal off her high horse, and the punishment is almost non-existent. But because this is the third time already, and it’s only the end of January, she doesn’t get recess for the rest of the week. But Kimberly hates the outdoors anyway.

“Thank you, Principal Green.” I stand, shake her hand, and prompt Kimberly to thank her too before we leave.

“Can we leave early?” Kimberly trots down the hall next to me as we walk back outside.

“No, we have to stay until the end.”

“But why?”

“Because I’m on the PTA. The other parents would be mad if I left early.”

“So?”

I giggle to myself and glance down at her staring up at me with her small, angry face.

“So, I have to be a team player.” The mention brings Lowell back into my head. I know as soon as I see him, I might be in for it. And when I see the filming crew outside, I know at least there won’t be a scene when I do see him.

I saw the look in his eyes. I remember enough to read that much off him questioning if Kimberly is his or not and accepting the possibility.

“No more getting in trouble, Kimberly. I mean it.” I crouch down to look at her, and she feigns a pout until she nods at me. “Good.” I adjust her hair and t-shirt smiling softly as I give myself my own pep talk. She gets her hate for the outdoors and group activities from me.

“Let’s go.” I stand again, and we make the last turn by the gym to walk outside where screaming children and enthusiastic parents await.

“It’s Lindsay.” Kimberly tugs away from me before I can stop her. I see her run toward another girl her age who greets her back, so I assume they are friends. Maybe the one she keeps talking with. In my opinion, she looks like a real-life Strawberry Shortcake, but that should be none of my business.

Soon after walking out, I am commissioned by a few other parents to help set up the face-painting table and then the markers for the field football toss which I am left to do myself. I didn’t realize I was scapegoated into this until I am alone watching Kimberly in the distance at the snow cone station, mentally telling myself she shouldn’t have more than two. I set the last cone down, and realize I missed the white painted line on the grass completely. My mind is all jumbled up.

“Charlotte.”

I could have sensed the shift in the air before I heard his voice. Slowly, I turn to look at him. Under the setting sun, he almost seems like he isn’t there—like his tall, wide frame and clear blue eyes are a figment of my imagination.

“Hey.” I swallow. “What are you doing here?” It feels like a stupid question, but I know it’s valid. And I never expected to see him at that party, let alone here at a school.

“I guess I could ask you the same thing, technically.” His eyes make a quick glance around before he steps closer to me.

My eyes leave his as I tilt my chin down and try to bite back the pressure in my throat circling my head. As I inhale, his scent encases me, and it’s like before. I struggle to understand how I could remember that.

“You have a daughter,” he states.

My eyes fly to his. “Yes. She’s five.” I sense his next question.

His mouth opens before he pauses and stares off above my head into the distance. His jaw hardens as he presses his tongue to the inside of his mouth before swallowing and tightening his brows as he looks back to me.

“Is…” The pain is his voice is immeasurable, and I realize it sounds so foreign to me because I never heard him like this before—hurt. We never got that far. We only ever saw each other happy or excited, not talking about anything else but what was easy and how we felt physically.

I never knew his dad’s first name, or even his middle name, or where he grew up. Neither did he know the same about me, and that’s why it was so easy for him to leave. Why it’s so hard for me to tell him this now.

“She’s yours. Kimberly. She’s our daughter.” My voice cracks, and I wipe a tear from my left eye as soon as it falls. Feeling a weight release I never knew was there from inside my core, the ground seems to wobble before I ground myself back in his eyes.

“She is?”

I nod. “Yes. She just turned five last month. If you want a test…”

“I believe you. For some reason,” he scoffs under his breath and steps away as if he needs the air.

“Lowell.”

When I try to reach out to him, he moves farther away, and I realize it’s because the coach is headed back our way along with the one cameraman and reporter following for the film op. I step out of the frame watching Lowell follow me with his eyes as they turn down.

“We need to talk. Later,” he says.

I nod in agreement. I always carry my business cards in my purse, so I quickly hand him one before the opportunity leaves. While he is distracted with them, I slip away on shaky feet and make my way back to Kimberly.

“Let’s go.” I hold out my hand, and she waves bye to her friend before she takes it and skips along with me.

“I thought you said we can’t leave early.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Okay. I want to say bye to my friend first.” She tugs me back, and I stop, watching her eyes focus in on Lowell and point to him.

“Later, he’s busy working.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s famous.” I sigh, wondering how the hell I’m going to tell her about him. We never landed on the ‘dad’ conversation long enough.

“Oh.”

I look down at her, and her face is so drawn. When she wants something she can’t have, she gets that way. But she was never one for tantrums or anything like that.

“Don’t worry, you’ll see him later. And we can have whatever you want for dinner.”

“Okay.” She perks up and lets us start walking again. “How will I see him, though? If he’s famous?”

“Um, you’ll see.”

We finally reach the car, and I dodge all her questions until she finally relents, and I can drive home in the only peace I can find knowing that both our lives are about to change tremendously.