CHRIS
What in the hell am I doing?
I pull onto the highway and head toward the house. I wasn’t expecting this weekend to play out like this. I figured I’d spend most of it covered in oil and sweat; instead, I go on a fucking date.
That was a date, right?
As much as I try to rework it into just hanging out, I know it’s a fucking date and I don’t date. I didn’t think this through, I really didn’t think at all. When she texted me, I assumed it was for a hook-up. Yeah, I know it sounds sleazy but hell, I texted her hours ago, but I didn’t think she was going to respond at all. When she texted back and said she wanted to hang out, I saw how late it was and couldn’t help but think sex.
Funny thing is, the whole time we were together, I was actually interested in the things coming out of her mouth, not just what I could put in it. I’m kicking myself for lying to her about what I do. I never lie about it, there’s no point. The club is a very popular hangout spot in town, especially for the college girls; if she doesn’t already know someone who knows I work there, she will soon. I’m not ashamed of my job, yet still, the lie slid out of my mouth before it was too late to take it back. I don’t know… maybe it’s because she feels different—this feels different— and that dance…
No, now I sound like a pussy.
See, this is why you don’t date or do anything close to it. Next thing I know I’ll turn into JJ and hand her my balls, gift wrapped with roses.
I make it back to the house and head straight to bed.
A blaring phone wakes me from a dead sleep at 7 a.m.
Someone must be dead and if not, they will be soon; there’s no reason for me to be up this early.
“Yeah,” I answer, my voice heavy with sleep.
“Chris, It’s Mom. I just dropped MJ off at preschool, and Shayla was there. She didn’t say anything was wrong when she dropped him off last night, but she was in the office with the director this morning. Just giving you a heads up, I don’t trust that girl.”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll see what’s going on. Thanks, Mom,” I say, trying to hide my annoyance.
“No problem. Are you and MJ coming over for dinner?”
“Uh, I’ll let you know.”
“Okay, love you,” she says.
“I love you too.”
Slamming my phone down roughly on the bed, I sit up; I’m exhausted but there’s no fucking way I’ll be going back to sleep now.
Shayla, what the hell are you up too?
I text Shayla.
ME: Shayla, is everything okay with MJ? Mom said she saw you at the school.
SHAYLA: He’s fine.
ME: Okay. So what were you doing at the school?
After a few minutes, I realize she isn’t going to respond, so I call her. No way in hell is she getting away with no explanation. By the time Shayla’s voicemail picks up, I’m already in my shirt and sliding into my jeans and shoes. Sleep nags at my eyes as I pull onto the highway and head toward the Kinderprep Academy.
She’s crazy, but she wouldn’t disrupt his day over an argument, over a hissy fit. I give the daycare a call when I’m ten minutes away to secure a meeting with the director and ensure MJ is still in school.
Feeling a little better and only slightly panicked, I pull into the daycare parking lot. I punch in my code and walk directly into the preschool directors’ office.
“Hello, Mr. Preston,” Julia greets.
I offer her a smile and sit in the only other chair in the small room.
“Good morning.”
“How can I help you today, Chris?” she says, smiling at me brightly, and her eyes unmistakably sweep down my chest.
Pulling out the charm that is buried somewhere between exhaustion and worry, I smile at her again.
“I heard Shayla stopped in to speak with you this morning. I was curious about the meeting since it’s unlike her to come to the school without telling me.”
Or ever. I don’t think she has stepped foot in the place since he started when we split up.
At the mention of “the meeting” Julia’s eyes leave mine and scan around her desk as if it holds an excuse to not spill the beans. I clear my throat and her gaze returns to meet mine; her face displays just how uncomfortable she is.
“Is there anything I should be concerned about, Julia?”
The room is still for a beat and Julia sighs; there is technically no reason for her to withhold any information regarding MJ from me, but the amount of details she gives is up to her.
“Listen, Chris, Michael James is a great kid and obviously has a loving family. His mother stopped in asking about his tuition cost. I told her how much it is and that you paid it up for the next two months. She asked for an invoice and when I told her she would need to get it from you, she got very upset.”
“Why would she need an invoice?” I ask.
“I’m not sure, but she may be contacting you about it.”
“Somehow I doubt that.” I sigh and stand. “Thanks a lot, Julia. I’m sorry about her.”
“It’s fine.” She smiles and walks me out.
Dread washes over me. Shayla is an entitled little daddy’s girl, and it wouldn’t be so bad if the “daddy” wasn’t George Wright, one of the best lawyers in the city. I have no idea what this is about, but it may be time for me to lawyer up, for advice, if for no other reason.
After I say goodbye to Julia, I turn down a long hallway decorated with paintings only a mother could love. Macaroni art projects splashed with glitter and rainbow-colored bulletin boards are outside of each classroom.
MJ’s classroom has about twelve kids in it, and they are all separated in various areas around the large room. On one wall there is a large mural of a cartoon style jungle scene complete with monkeys, snakes, and birds that look related to the one on the ‘Fruit Loops’ cereal box.
MJ is on a small carpet next to his buddy, Josh. They play together often, and it’s nice to see he’s made a friend. I can’t imagine anything in our life-changing, and the fact that Shayla can threaten that gets under my skin.
I exit the school and pull my phone from my pocket as I approach my car.
“Hey, Dad, are you busy?” I ask.
The sound of running water echoes through the phone and then comes to a sudden stop.
“No. Why?” he asks.
“I’m going to stop by, I need a favor. You’re at home, right?”
“Yes. I’ll see you in a bit.”
There are a good two acres of land that separates our duplex from my parents’ house. My parents have done well for themselves financially. My father is an investor and has his hands in a few different areas of business, but most of his money is made in real estate and small business. He also owns a small chain of auto shops in town and a profitable auto parts store. Dad worked his ass off for years and he is now reaping the benefits. Usually, he’s at home with my mother, but he still likes to pop in at the shops every now and then.
My mother meets me at the door of my childhood home like she always does, with a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. I greet my mother then follow her to the living room where she joins my father on the couch.
“Hey, Dad,” I say.
He looks up at me from his coffee and nods.
“What did you find out about Shayla?” Mom asks.
Seated on the chair across from them, I recount the conversation I had with Julia. Worry lines my mother’s face, and annoyance slams my father’s as they listen attentively.
“That’s why I need the favor. Can you give Larry a call for me? I may need some legal help here in case she tries anything out of the way.”
“Of course. I’ll call him now,” Dad says, heading toward his home office.
“I thought it was odd that she was there,” Mom says, watching my father across the living room. “She didn’t even greet MJ. I just happened to look up as she was entering Julia’s office.”
I nod.
My mother shakes her head solemnly as she brings her coffee mug to her lips. A cool breeze slides through the room causing me to look over, and I notice for the first time that the patio doors are open. Light of the morning creeps in the quiet room, and I admire the peace my parents surround themselves in. I’ve always admired my parents. As a kid, I would watch the small things they did for each other, like the notes Mom would leave on the refrigerator for the mornings Dad had to leave before dawn, or how they always made time for each other even if it was in the middle of the night. My parents love the shit out of each other, and they taught my siblings and me the importance of love . That is why I tried so hard with Shayla after she got pregnant, and at first, things were good. After MJ was born, Shayla didn’t take too well to the changes motherhood brought, and I can’t exactly blame her; she was only seventeen. She would always ask to drop MJ off with one of our parents, and we would fight when I told her no. She was terrified and so was I, but I knew our son needed to be with us. Shayla wanted to pick her Georgia valley girl wanna-be lifestyle back up right where she left it before she got pregnant, and she resented me for wanting MJ home all the time. MJ had just turned one when things reached a head with us; we would fight for days. The three of us had separate bedrooms in the duplex, and Shayla and I would go days without having a real conversation. Not much more than “Has he eaten?” or “Can you pick up some diapers?” passed between us. She started to stay out late, and it was actually a relief; the house was peaceful. Through all of that, I still fought to stay with her. I thought it was best that MJ had both his parents together in the same home no matter what. I didn’t care how miserable she made me, I wanted it for him, and I kept telling myself things would get better. Finally, one day I bought MJ over here to my parents’ house before I headed to work since Shayla was nowhere to be found. Before I left, I caught a glimpse of MJ watching my parents; my father had leaned over and gave my mother a kiss on the forehead, and I remembered how I use to watch him. That was the moment I realized I was doing MJ more harm than good by staying with his mother. I was showing my son how to be miserable; I was doing anything but setting a good example, that’s when his peace became my number one priority, and I ended it with Shayla.
“Larry can meet with you Tuesday, 11:00 a.m. at his office,” my dad says.
“Thanks, Dad,” I say, and head to the duplex to go back to sleep.