by Cara Bastone
The idea of Evan quitting his job was essentially inconceivable to Via. Like unbuckling his seat belt on the highway.
“You want me to just stay there? Where there’s no respect for my time or my skills?”
Via rose to clear their dinner dishes. “No, of course not. But if you quit, that’s it. Kaput. No more paychecks.”
“That’s the general idea.”
She bit back on her frustration. She was trying her absolute hardest to understand this from his perspective. Just because it was a good job, with good benefits, didn’t mean he had to stay there. Especially not if it made him miserable. “I’m just saying that if you give two weeks’ notice, which is standard, you can leave guilt-free, get paid for another two weeks and possibly find something else in the meantime.”
“Yeah, and I’d have to work there for another two weeks, which you’re conveniently glossing over.”
“I’m not—” She broke off and pinched the bridge of her nose as she leaned over the sink. She loved Evan, she really did, but conversations like this often spiraled off into arguments. And even more so lately, since she’d become busy with her new job. Evan didn’t quite understand how stressful life transitions were for Via. How much she needed her focus to be in one place right now. Not to mention the fact that a public quitting scene, like the one Evan was dead-set on, made Via’s chest tighten with anxiety.
She knew she couldn’t out-and-out tell him he shouldn’t do it. He took any disagreement very personally. Via could do this. She was a trained counselor, for God’s sake. She changed tack. “It scares me to think of you without a job, Evan. You know how sink or swim New York is.”
He knows it theoretically, a small voice said in her mind. Via, on the other hand, knew it quite personally.
“Well, good thing I have a damned good flotation device for a girlfriend.”
She turned to him, and he was smiling at her up from under his hair in that way that made her knees weak. He gestured her over, and she went to him. He pulled her in between his legs and took her hands.
“I’m not asking for money or anything, V. I’m just asking for your support. I need to quit this job.”
She nodded. She’d been waiting her whole life to be stable enough to offer support to someone else. After all, it was just Via on Via’s team. She had Serafine, of course, but in terms of a financial safety net, Via only had what was currently sitting in her bank account. She asked herself one question: Do I love Evan? And that was all the answer she needed. When you loved someone, you did everything you could to support them.
“Okay. Do what you need to do, babe.” She leaned down into his kiss and let him sweep her away.
Later, when she slid out of her bed to get a glass of water, trying not to wake up Evan as she did so, Via let the panic flood her. She sat in her dark kitchen, staring at a black window that threw her reflection right back at her. The words flotation device circled in her head like ravens.
* * *
IT WAS FOUR weeks into school and Via had joyfully settled into her new schedule. She saw students in the morning and did paperwork in the afternoons. She had regular appointments with a few different students once a week, but most of her time was spent putting out fires with students who’d been flagged by their teachers.
Billy Oaks showed up at school with a black eye? Send him to Miss DeRosa.
Kendra Dobbs’s parents are getting a divorce? Send her to Miss DeRosa.
Jessica Rodriguez hauled off and punched a third grader? Send her to Miss DeRosa.
Miss DeRosa, for the record, was loving it. This was the only reason she’d taken on so many student loans. Why she’d spent so much time in school when she could have been working. Because working with kids who needed her? Truly needed her? There was just nothing that beat it.
Serafine was convinced that Via was in the middle of some cosmic death match with Karma. That because Via hadn’t slipped through the cracks of the system and had eventually been filtered into a loving foster home, she felt that she owed it to other kids to make the system work for them. But Via didn’t really care what the reasons were. All she knew was that at the end of the school day on her fourth Monday at PS 128, she felt like spiking her dang messenger bag.
She’d really, really done her job well. She’d straight-up conquered some problems for some kids. She’d had four appointments that morning, all of which had ended up on a positive note, and she’d finished her paperwork. That staff meeting was lucky she didn’t moonwalk her way right in.
Without thinking, letting her adrenaline rush lead the way, Via found herself plunking down right next to Sebastian Dorner. She hadn’t been avoiding him, but she’d been mindful of just how much all the other ladies at the school enjoyed gossiping about the fabulous Mr. Dorner.
“Hi!” he said in something like surprise. “Wow. You’re, like, glowing. Did you get engaged or something?”
Her mind stuttered. Engaged? Yeah. No. “No. I just had a really, really good day at work.”
He raised his eyebrows and nodded, offering her a piece of gum that she accepted. “That makes one of us. I had a decidedly bad day at work.” He held up one bandaged arm.
“Oh my God!” Via leaned forward, as if she might be able to see through the bandage. “What happened?”
“Lost a fight with a band saw.”
“I...thought you were an architect?” She racked her memory for all the things she knew about Sebastian Dorner: Thor look-alike, widower, architect, father. She could admit to herself that it wasn’t a very comprehensive list.
“I was. But I quit after, ah, when Matty was in your class, actually. I’m a furniture maker now.” He lifted his ass off the library chair and pulled his phone out of his back pocket. He quickly exited out of some messages and then handed his phone over to Via.
Her mouth dropped open when she took in his webpage. “Sebastian, you made all this?”
She was floored, utterly floored. There were coffee tables and side tables and dinner tables. Chairs and bookcases and bed sets. All the wood he used was buttery and glowing, rich in tone and cut into interesting shapes. Every piece had some natural feature, like a knot or a live edge. He’d also integrated some sort of copper or steel into each piece in some way. It was utterly stunning.
When she looked up, he was grinning, with just a bit of color staining his cheeks. “Yup, I made all that.”
“You’re an artist.” She stared at his profile as she handed his phone back over. She thought of his rumpled suits from two years ago. For some reason, she’d never thought that he would have a creative side.
He lifted his hips to put his phone away, and the movement pressed his shoulder firmly into Via’s. “I try.”
“Do you have a studio?”
“Yeah. It’s in our backyard, actually. It was part of the reason we moved. I was sick of schlepping over to Red Hook to work in a rented space twice a day.”
“Why would you go twice a day?”
“Well, I’m a lunch monitor, so I always come back here at lunchtime.”
A light clicked on. “Oh, I see, so you take a break in the middle of your day to come do lunch monitor duty.”
He nodded. “And I run the second-grade soccer program on Tuesdays and Thursdays after school.”
By her calculations, that meant that Sebastian was with his kid in the mornings, lunchtime and immediately after school. “Matty’s lucky to have his dad around so much.”
He blinked, those light eyes squinting as if he were trying to translate what she’d just said into a different language.
“All right, brilliant people! Palms up for positivity!” The staff meeting started, and thirty minutes later, Via found herself shoulder-to-shoulder with Sebastian, swinging their arms to and fro while Principal Grim led them all in a tight little cha-cha. She couldn’t help but grin up at him, and he grinned rig
ht back.
Principal Grim was just about to end the meeting when Sebastian stepped forward, jamming his hands in his pockets in a way that instantly brought Matty to Via’s mind.
“Principal Grim, I was wondering if I could make a quick request?”
“The floor is yours, Mr. Dorner.”
Every eye in the room switched to Sebastian. Via watched in amazement as most of those eyes, young and old, cruised lazily from his face to his body and back again. He was seriously a big-ticket item at this school.
“I’m having a bit of trouble with the second-grade soccer group.”
Via looked up at him in surprise.
“It’s a bigger group than last year and rowdier. I have a few other parent volunteers, but honestly none of us know what the hell we’re doing with the higher-needs kids. So, I was wondering if one of you brilliant, selfless, awe-inspiring trained educators wouldn’t mind observing for a few practices? Maybe teach me some strategies to maintain order?”
For the second time in less than an hour, Via was utterly floored by Sebastian Dorner. He seemed like such a he-man. But here he was, asking for help, like it was no big deal. He was admitting that he’d been struggling, that he wanted to do better, to learn. She looked up at him standing there, such a huge, competent presence. And for the first time, she noticed the gray at his temples and smattered through his dark head of hair. A thought struck her. This is a grown man.
“I’ll help, Sebastian,” Sadie called out from across the room, tossing her chin-length red hair back. A few other ladies scowled, obviously having wanted to help the fabulous Mr. Dorner themselves. “I had most of those kids in my class last year anyway.”
“Great!” His smile transformed his face, squint lines and all those white teeth.
Via shifted in her seat and cleared her throat.
The room emptied, and Sadie came up. Via was still gathering her thoughts about what she’d just seen. She wasn’t sure why it had surprised her so much to see him ask for help like that. But it had moved something. She just wasn’t sure what.
“I’m warning you, though,” Sadie said, her engagement ring sparkling as she adjusted her bag on her shoulder. “I don’t know squat about soccer.”
Sebastian laughed. “Well, that pretty much makes two of us.”
“But you’re the coach,” Via said, buttoning her light fall jacket.
“Yeah, but only because I wanted to be involved in whatever sport Matty wanted to play. I was a football player as a kid, but honestly, I was relieved that he didn’t have any interest. Dorners have thick skulls—” he knocked on his own “—but I wasn’t ready to watch my boy become a stain on the field.”
Via blinked at him. She’d really, really stereotyped him. She’d thought, from his size and presence, that he was some machismo-filled gorilla. But here he was, an artist, unashamed to ask for help when he needed it and steering his son away from football because of brain injuries?
“Well, I guess I’ll just Wikipedia soccer later tonight. Practice starts at 3:45 tomorrow?” Sadie said.
He nodded. “Seriously though, thank you, Sadie. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. I think these last few weeks of soccer practice have given me even more gray hairs.”
He scraped a hand over his head and smiled down at the two women who were smiling up at him. His squint lines deepened, and Via realized that she was letting her eyes wander all over his face. Via cleared her throat and took a step back.
Time to go.
* * *
“DO YOU THINK I’m judgy?” Via asked Serafine as the two of them lounged on the balcony of Fin’s apartment the next night. She had a partial view of Prospect Park, and both of them liked the glimpse of the newly changing leaves.
This was the same place that they’d lived together up until last year, but Fin had made it completely hers since Via had moved out. Crystals and sage, the walls painted in deep jewel tones and hung with mosaics and local art. An old Victorian-looking sofa sat in one corner, and she’d separated the large living room into two rooms with nothing more than three gilded hanging mirrors.
“You?” Fin’s dark brows slashed across her pale forehead as she raised them up to her hairline. “God, no. You’re the least judgmental person I know.”
Via humphed and took a sip of the cheap red wine that neither of them minded drinking out of juice glasses. They’d just gorged on Indian food, and the cool early fall breeze was heaven on Earth as they sat with their feet up on the rail.
“I’ve been feeling judgy lately, and I don’t like it. First with Evan and then with this guy at work, Sebastian.”
“You mean because Evan quit his job with no notice and no backup plan? I think that one deserved to be judged, sister.” Serafine set her wine aside to braid her wavy black hair, her many rings catching the light from a streetlamp and giving the illusion that she was sort of sparkling with energy.
Via frowned at her tone. “I don’t know. He really wasn’t being treated well there.”
“Most people don’t like their job, Violetta.” She used Via’s full name only when she was trying to infuse some love into whatever bitter medicine she was about to spoon over. “But most people aren’t comfortable with hitting up their parents for money when they’re willingly unemployed.”
Via frowned into her wine. She was about to defend something that she kind of didn’t want to defend. But he was her boyfriend, and they loved each other. “It’s not his fault his parents have money. And why shouldn’t he take it if they want to give it?”
Serafine sighed and tipped her head back toward the sky. When she spoke again, her Louisiana accent was syrupy smooth and threaded out into the night like smoke from the end of a cigarette. “There’s nothing wrong with that, Via, really. I’m not judging him for having a different kind of family than we had. I’m just saying that quitting his job with very little thought and then relying on his parents to fill in the gaps isn’t something that I thought you’d ever be attracted to.”
Via froze. She blinked and saw barely any of the view in front of her. Leave it to Fin to hit the nail on the head. The very same nail that Via had been scrupulously avoiding. “I don’t have to be attracted to every single part of him to want to be with him. He doesn’t have to have every part of his life figured out to be a good partner.”
Serafine sighed again, and this time, she laid a hand on Via’s arm. “I’m not trying to shit on your boyfriend, Via. I’m just trying to put words to something that’s been confusing me. And you’re right, you don’t have to love every single thing Evan does or says. But stability and independence are so, SO important to you. I never thought I’d see you with someone who didn’t really value either.”
CHAPTER SIX
SEBASTIAN WONDERED IF he was coming down with something. His head was spinning and he felt all clammy as he parked his truck on Court Street, a few blocks away from where he was heading.
Tell the truth, Seb, he told himself as he drummed his knuckles against his forehead. He wasn’t coming down with something.
He just felt weird as hell because he’d slept with someone for the first time in almost three years.
Matty was spending a nice fall weekend upstate with his grandparents on Cora’s side, so Sebastian hadn’t had any reason to turn down the brunch date from Valerie. He’d let Emma down easy the week before, and he’d caught coffee with Valerie last weekend while Matty was in karate. He’d liked her enough to go on a second date with her. And he’d apparently liked her enough to sleep with her.
A brunch date. Seb hadn’t even known that was a thing. But eggs Florentine had turned into a walk through Prospect Park had turned into checking out her apartment had turned into a sunny afternoon tour of her bed and her body.
He stepped out of his truck and jammed his hands in his pockets as he walked to the store where he was headed. It had felt good, h
e had to admit, to get some release after all these years. And it had been interesting to sleep with someone new. He’d missed sex. He’d definitely missed sex.
But the conversation directly afterward had knocked him for a real loop.
The bell above the door of the home goods shop jingled as he stepped through. The blond-haired woman behind the counter grinned at him.
“Would you date me?” Seb asked without preamble.
“Oh, uh, Seb,” his good friend Mary stuttered, color flushing her pretty cheeks. “You know I just got out of that whole mess with Doug and—”
“No, no.” He waved a hand through the air as he made his way through the empty store. “You misunderstand. I didn’t say will you date me, I said would you date me.”
“Oh.” Understanding lit her eyes. “You’re asking if you’re datable?”
He nodded.
“Totally!” she chirped, scratching a small note to herself in a ledger. She tossed her long blond hair back. “You’re a catch.”
“But the kid thing, the widower thing, that throws a woman off, right?”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “Not the right woman.”
“Hmm.”
She leaned forward over the counter. “Shall I wager a guess that you may have had a run-in with not-the-right-woman?”
“Yeah. I got dumped this afternoon.”
“Oh, Seb!” She sounded oddly excited by the news. “I didn’t know you were dating! Oh, and jeez. Sorry. Getting dumped sucks. I should know.”
“I guess I’m dating.” He leaned his elbows on the counter and fiddled with some of the knickknacks she had for sale. “And I’m being dramatic. I wasn’t dumped. But I was definitely downgraded from relationship potential to a booty call.”
Mary greeted a customer who’d just wandered into the store and lowered her voice to keep their conversation private. “What happened?”
“Well, this was our second date. I kinda liked her. She’s cute. Runs a dog-walking business. Valerie.”