* * *

Present:

“Ms. Parish, we need you to come to the school,” Ms. Selfmore’s voice drones on my phone while I’m driving.

“Is something wrong?” I ask, but I already know that. Ms. Selfmore never calls unless something is wrong—and that usually means River has gotten into trouble at school.

“It’s not something I wish to discuss over the phone. I will expect you here at two, which is our usual dismissal time, as you well know,” she says in that condescending tone she always uses.

That right there is just one of the reasons that I can’t stand the woman. It’s her tone, the things she implies, and how she never lets anything go. I was late to pick River up one time. Just once! I had a flat and was thirty minutes late. You would have thought I was more like a week late from the way she carried on. I want to put him in a private school, but honestly I haven’t been able to afford it. Still, the help and understanding he is getting with his ADHD has been ridiculous. They’re doing nothing to help him. Actually, I think there are times that they make him feel worse, maybe even single him out. I hope that’s not the case right now, but I have a bad feeling.

“I’ve been out of town, but I’m on my way back. I may be about ten minutes late,” I answer nervously, glancing down at the speedometer and pushing down a little farther on the gas.

“Ms. Parish, this is very important,” she snaps, like I’m not aware that anything to do with my child would be of the upmost importance. I really would like to claw her eyes out, throat punch her, kick her… something.

“I’m aware of that, Ms. Selfmore. I’ll be there as fast as humanly possible. My hus— River’s father will be there to pick him up. You can talk with him until I get there.”

“I’ve already spoken with Mr. Parish. He wasn’t quite helpful. I’m afraid he’s at home sick today. He has his mother picking River up and dropping him off today, because obviously, there is no one else.”

“Luka is sick?” I ask, alarmed, ignoring her barb about me not being there to take care of my child.

Luka and I didn’t talk on the phone last night like the other two nights I’ve been gone. I didn’t get in until really late, and I didn’t want to disturb him. We did text through the day, however. He never mentioned being sick.

I miss him so much so that I almost called him my husband when talking with Ms. Selfmore. Luka has never really stopped being my husband, not in my heart. Still, it’s dangerous to keep thinking along those lines. Luka has never mentioned how he truly feels about me, and as much as I want my family back, I can’t do this. I can’t go through this with our families again if he doesn’t love me.

I keep telling myself things will be different this time. That Luka and I have both changed, that we’ve grown up, that our families are less of a factor, that this time we can be stronger—I’ve said it all in my head over and over. The simple truth, however, is that I don’t want to be without Luka again. I can’t see him with another woman. I don’t want to lose him. I love him.

I love him more today than before.

“Ms. Parish? Did you hear me?” she asks, her voice filled with annoyance.

I didn’t. I completely spaced out, but I doubt she had anything of importance to say.

“I’ll be there when River gets out of class,” I answer, and this time I don’t bother to be professional and let my annoyance bleed through my voice.

I also don’t offer a goodbye; I merely hang up the telephone. Then without taking a break, I use my phone’s voice option and tell it to call Luka. The last thing I need to do is get in a wreck trying to dial the dang phone.

“Hello,” comes Luka’s voice, and it sounds soft and sleepy like it did over the weekend, but it’s also different.

“You’re sick,” I whisper, hating the idea of him not feeling good.

“Lo’? You on your way back home?”

“Yeah, I’m almost back. I didn’t know you were sick. You should have told me.”

“I just woke up this way. I think it’s just a stomach virus. Hopefully it will be gone in a day or two. You didn’t call me this morning.”

“I started moving early, I didn’t want to bother you,” I tell him, and I’m only partially lying. I had hoped he would call me last night. I know it was late, but I haven’t gone the entire day without talking to him since we started… whatever this is between us. I wanted to call him, but second-guessed myself and didn’t. I thought for sure he would call me this morning, and when he didn’t…

“I missed you. I would have called, but I felt like hell,” he responds, and his words make my heart swell. How can someone missing you change your entire day? I’m not sure, but it does.

“I missed you too. I wanted to, I just wasn’t sure if it was okay… I mean… Crap, Luka. I chickened out. This thing between us…”

“Is good,” he answers firmly, even if he is sick.

“Yeah, it is. I’ll stop second-guessing everything,” I tell him. I really hope I can do that.

“I need to do some of that myself. I wanted to call last night, but you had been out to dinner with your friends and coworkers. I figured you were having fun, and—”

“I really just wanted to be back in the hotel room curled up in bed and talking to you.”

“I would have rather you were curled up next to me talking to me,” he whispers.

“Me too,” I answer, but Luka starts coughing, and I cringe at how miserable he sounds.

“I’m making you talk too much. I’ll swing by and check on you after I go talk to Ms. Selfmore.”

“The old bat called you?”

“Unfortunately.” I laugh. “You can let your mom know I’ll be picking River up.”

I’d call her myself, but we don’t really talk. I don’t have anything for or against her, not really. She’s been decent enough to me—in that she mostly ignores I exist. She’s good to River, so I try not to hold it against her that she was married to Satan himself. I figure if anything I have her to thank for the good that’s inside Luka—because he sure didn’t get it from his father.

“I’m sorry,” he says, sounding miserable.

“Just rest. I’ll take care of it. If you want, River and I could come by and… No… you should probably sleep and—”

“God, Lo’. Please come by. I miss you,” he says, and if it was possible, I think I could fly in that moment.

“See you soon,” I tell him, smiling into the phone. I might also speed up even more. If I get a ticket, at least there’s a good reason.

“See you soon, honey.”

I hang up smiling.