by Kelly Myers
“Exactly,” I say. “And I know you guys can’t give me the right answer, I need to figure this out on my own, in my own way.”
“That’s true,” Bea says. “But we can offer opinions.”
“Of course,” I say.
“Well, my opinion is that Logan is one measly step above scum of the earth,” Zoe says. “However, if one looks at it from a certain angle, you know what you’re getting with him. He’s your age, you’ve lived with him long-term. He’s a known quantity.”
“Yeah, a known quantity in that we know he sucks.” Marianne beseeches me with her eyes. “David makes you feel like you’ve never felt before, you said that. He’s amazing, a total game-changer.”
“But the kids.” I can tell by Bea’s voice that she’s been thinking about what I said the other day. “No matter how amazing Elena and David are together, they can’t force the kids to feel a certain way. Choosing David could just mean signing up for more pain down the line.”
“So choose neither.” Zoe shrugs. “Focus on yourself and eventually, you can start looking for another older man, since that is clearly your type.”
“I don’t have a type,” I mumble.
“Yes you do, and your type is David.” Marianne is bouncing and smiling with excitement again. I know she’s not going to hop off the David Bandwagon anytime soon.
“Mull it over,” Bea says. “We’ll be here for you no matter what you decide.”
“Thanks,” I say. “And you guys can relax, I’m pretty certain I’m not going to choose Logan. I was doubtful yesterday, and after a night of sleep, it’s only become more clear that I don’t want to get back with him.”
“Because now that you’ve experienced David, there’s no way you could settle for someone so inferior,” Marianne declares.
“No, because I only liked Logan in the first place because he was safe and easy,” I say. “And that’s not a good enough reason to be with someone who has hurt me in the past.”
“Well said.” Zoe gives me an approving nod.
“Can I please hide in the bushes when you tell Logan you don’t want him?” Bea asks.
“No,” I say. “I’m not looking forward to the conversation, he was legitimately shocked when I didn’t fall into his arms yesterday.”
“Idiot,” Zoe mutters.
I shrug. “The David issue, I still do not have an answer for. I just know I need to think really carefully.”
My friends agree with this. As a group, most of them tend to make decisions pretty quickly. Marianne often doesn’t even wait for a question to be complete before blurting out her answers, and she rushes into choices with headlong abandon. Beatrice, while slightly less impulsive, tends to trust her gut. She goes with whatever option seems right in the moment.
Zoe is a bit like me, in that she takes the time to weigh her choices and consider things from a few different angles. But once she’s done analyzing, she makes her decision with confidence, and she sticks with it.
Not me. I’ll finish analyzing, and then instead of making a choice, I’ll throw all the analysis out of the window and start to emotionally stew over my decision. That process is an absolute quagmire, but I’ve never been able to avoid it. That’s just how I am.
So we all know this isn’t going to be settled in a day or two. I’m going to use my usual process and journal alot and, if I’m being quite honest, cry a lot. I can’t change who I am.
As we finish up brunch and head our separate ways, I know that I’ll never change, but neither will my friends, at least not in the ways that matter. Even if I make every wrong decision in the book, they will be there to pick me up again and help me keep moving.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The next Friday during a study period, I’m sitting in my office, daydreaming about David showing up at my door again.
I haven’t talked to him all week. I’ve been trusting my process and focusing on end-of-school year tasks and taking the time that I need.
I haven’t talked to Logan either, although he’s texted and called a few times. I know I’m not going to get back together with him, I’m just putting off the conversation. I don’t have the emotional energy to deal with Logan when I’m so torn about David.
The reality is, I need to know where David’s daughters stand, and I need to collect that knowledge myself. I don’t want to just trust what David thinks because he sees the situation from a certain perspective. His daughters are always going to love him. They might even say the things they think will make him happy. I want to know what they truly think of David and me.
Only there’s no way for me to figure that out. I try to observe Amy, but the girl has a poker face like no other. She seems more or less fine, and she has been participating in class this week, but she’s nowhere near as enthused as she once was.
And David won’t show up outside my office. He said his piece, I know that he will wait for me to come to him. He’s not going to rush me.
Besides, it’s study period, and I should be prepared for a student to drop by, not my paramour.
Since the end of the school year is drawing near, students are preoccupied with studying for final exams or preparing final projects. I’ve assigned students the final project of drawing “maps” for novels. They get to choose any book we’ve read this semester, and they decide if the map is physical or more thematic. They have total creative liberty, but they have to explain and justify their choices with the map in an accompanying essay.
All week, students have been visiting me during study periods to ask for help or bounce ideas off me. Some of them are getting really into it, and I’m happy I assigned them something a little more interesting than the usual essay or poster board.
At that moment, a tap on my open door prompts me to lift my head. I widen my eyes but otherwise don’t react when I see it’s Amy.
“Hi, Amy, come in.” I gesture at the seat across from me and watch as Amy takes her dainty steps to the chair and sits down.
She’s clutching a folder against her chest. “I have a sketch of my map.”
“Great, I can look it over.” I reach out and accept the folder.
I’m glad to focus on the outline of her map; it’s too difficult to look directly at her face. She doesn’t seem upset, but she’s definitely nervous. I feel a pang as I remember previous study hall meetings between us. She was never nervous around me before.
The last time we met one on one, it was in her kitchen. My cheeks burn at the memory. I force my entire mind to focus on the sketch she’s done for The Witch of Blackbird Pond. She’s opted to mostly do a physical map, but she plays with the idea of space. She has a sketch of the colony in Connecticut, but then a separate orb showing Barbados with a ship between the two locations. It’s a cool way to illustrate the movement of people during Early American History.
“I like this,” I say. “You should consider adding England in, since that’s where Kit’s aunt and uncle are from, and the religion tension there shapes a lot of the tension in the colonies.”
Amy nods and jots down a note.
“When you have a draft of your essay, I’ll be happy to look that over as well,” I say. “I’m excited to read it.”
I look up and smile at her, and to my surprise, Amy smiles back. It doesn’t seem forced either. She reaches out and takes her sketch back, but she doesn’t get up.
“Miss Ramirez?” Amy’s dark eyes are focused intently on my face. “I was wondering about you and my dad?”
I blink, but I don’t shy away from the question. I can tell it’s taking every ounce of bravery in her body to bring this topic up. I can be brave too. “What were you wondering, Amy? I’ll try and answer any questions you have.”
“Are you going to go on another date with him?” Amy flushes bright red and looks away.
I realize that this is the exact opportunity I’ve been hoping for. It’s a chance to determine how Amy really feels. If only I have the guts and the finesse to be honest and open with A
my and get her to be honest with me.
“Amy, I care about your dad, but I also care about my role as a teacher,” I say. “And if I dated your dad, I know it might upset you, and I wouldn’t want to do that to you. I’m happy to just be your teacher if that makes you happy.”
Whatever Amy expected me to say, it wasn’t that. She leans back in her chair and chews her lip. She opens her mouth a few times, then clamps it shut. At last she speaks: “My dad really misses you.”
I’m so touched by her honesty that I can only answer with the truth. “I miss him too. But you’re the most important person in his life, not me, and that’s how it should be.”
“So you’re saying if I didn’t want you to date, you wouldn’t?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying,” I say. There’s no bitterness in my voice, no grief. It’s just how things are, and I’m proud to tell Amy where I stand.
“It was hard for me to think about my dad dating anyone, especially my teacher.” She chews her lip for a while as she thinks things through. “But I also really like you. And I think –”
Amy pauses as she tries to find the right words. I don’t breathe. I don’t even move.
“I think it wouldn’t be so bad if you dated him,” Amy says. “I think it would be nice actually.”
I lean forward and meet Amy’s eyes. “Are you sure?”
Amy gives me a little sideways smile. Her features resemble her mother’s, but that smile is all David. “Just call him already, all he does is mope by the phone.”
I burst out laughing, and Amy joines me with her own sweet giggle.
“I’ll talk to him soon,” I say. “I promise.”
Amy stands up and grabs her folder off my desk.
“But Amy, if you ever change your mind, you just let me know,” I say. “And I can go back to being just your teacher, ok?”
“I won’t change my mind,” Amy says. “I want you to be my step-mom.”
Emotion clogs my throat as I nod. That’s the thing about kids. Every now and then they say something so uninhibited and so honest that it can be overwhelming. It’s not so complicated for Amy. She sees a clear path from dating to serious relationships to marriage and stepmotherhood. I’m honored that she’s given me her approval.
After she waves goodbye, I lean back in my chair, eyes wide at what just happened.
A wave of energy hits me. Gone is the exhaustion from thinking over the issue from every angle. Now I know what I want, and I have the opportunity to go and get it. If only I’m brave enough.
I reach for my phone, my heart buzzing in anticipation. But I don’t call David. I want to talk to him in person. I should text him to set up a meeting.
Then I remember Logan. I need to deal with him before telling David my decision. I don’t even feel like I have to meet Logan in person, I don’t have much to say. I’ll call him tonight and tell him I’m not interested in getting back together at all. I’ll probably be more gentle than he deserves.
And then I’ll text David. I want to meet somewhere private. Maybe he can meet me at the local park at sunset, or even just swing by my apartment. I hope we can see each other tonight, or tomorrow at the latest.
I’m not going to let Amy down. She’s shown a tremendous amount of trust in me, and I’m going to be a good presence in her and Kate’s life.
As for David, I want to make him happy. I want to be happy with him for the rest of my life.
And now that I know what I want, I don’t want to waste any more time.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
When the final bell rings, I pack up my stuff and head for the door. All the kids are streaming by me, their backpacks flying behind them as they scamper off to meet parents at pick-up point near the entrance.
I smile and wave at kids I know, and there’s a spring in my step as I walk out the front doors and into the sun. I turn away from the crowd of parents waiting on the sidewalk near the fence, and I head towards the corner.
I stop short when I see who’s waiting for me, his hands in his pockets.
Apparently, Logan was serious when he said I had better not take too much time. As if his phone calls and texts weren’t bothersome enough, he’s come to find me outside school.
Annoyance needles at me. He has no right to do this. I shake it off and walk towards him, my chin held high.
This is good anyway. I was going to call him tonight to give him my answer, this just makes everything more efficient.
I stop when I’m a foot away.
“Elena.” Logan has got bags under his eyes. I feel a bit bad about that. Clearly, he’s not used to rejection, at least not coming from me. “I couldn’t wait, I needed to see you again.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you, but I’ve made my decision.” I grip my bag and look him dead in the eye. He needs to see how serious I am. “We shouldn’t get back together, and I think you would realize the same thing if you just really thought about it.”
“Elena, no, you can’t do this.” Logan’s instant argument tells me he was already expecting my answer, but he has made the decision to fight me on this. “We belong together. I love you.”
“Logan, I think I make you feel safe,” I say. “And that was a good thing, but I’m not sure it’s the most important thing.”
“I need you.” Logan’s words come out in ragged gasps.
“Well, I need to move on.” It sounds harsh, but I’m losing patience with him. I spent three years being patient with Logan. Listening to Logan. Supporting Logan. Coddling Logan. Tiptoeing around Logan’s feelings. All because I thought he was my life partner. I thought he would repay my kindness with loyalty.
I’m done with all that.
“You’re choosing your new guy over me, aren’t you?” Logan’s voice is almost unrecognizable, it’s so twisted with malice. “It won’t last, Elena, no one understands you like I do.”
“Logan, it’s not about someone else,” I say. “It’s about me and you. Even if there was no one else in the picture, I would still think it’s a bad idea for us to get back together.”
I can see Logan wants to fight me on this. I can see his mind whirring as he tries to come up with something else to say, but I’m determined to end this conversation. We’re outside my place of work after all.
I lift up my hand. “Logan, I want us to part as friends, so please don’t say anything nasty right now. I’m not going to change my mind.”
Just like that, all the fight drains out of Logan, and he slumps his shoulders. I relax as well. The worst of it is over. He understands that we don’t have a future. I can’t be his security blanket anymore.
“Ok.” Logan takes a step forward to give me a friendly hug. “I wish you the best, Elena.”
I let him hug me, and this time I feel nothing. We had our time, it’s over. Logan places a gentle kiss into my hair, and then steps back.
Then, his eyes flash to something behind my shoulder.
There’s a tingle up and down my spine, and I turn. Not thirty yards away, David is standing outside the school, two pink backpacks dangling from his hands. His daughters are running around gabbing with friends, but his eyes are fixed on me. And Logan.
He saw us hug. I open my mouth, but David turns away, his body jerking in abrupt movements as he walks to pick up his daughters and leave.
I gasp. He misread the situation. I need to explain.
“Is that him?” Logan’s hiss comes from behind me. “the other guy?”
“Logan, please be quiet.” The last thing I need is Logan blabbing so loud outside the school that those pesky rumors run rampant. “This is none of your business.”
“Elena, how old is that guy? And a married man? Seriously? This isn’t like you.”
All I want to do is run after David and explain. I want to tell him that I was ending things with Logan for good, and that I’m ready to be with him. And then I want to hug him and kiss him until that empty look fades from his eyes.
But
I can’t. Not in front of the school, and definitely not when he’s with his daughters.
So I turn on Logan, the fury in my eyes forcing him to take a step back. “He’s not married, he’s a widower. And he is older, but that just means he is far more mature and loyal than you could ever be right now!”
It’s not like me to lash out at others when I’m hurt, but this isn’t just pain. I’m spiraling towards a full-blown panic right now. I need to get away from Logan and his petty little questions, and I need to get in touch with David.
“You know what, Elena, go ahead and chase after an older guy.” Logan throws up his hands. “But don’t come crying to me when it all goes up in flames.”
“Great, I won’t.” I turn on my heel and start booking it towards my apartment, not even bothering to look over my shoulder as I say my final words. “Goodbye.”
It’s the type of thing Beatrice or Zoe or even Marianne (although she would add a few more dramatic parting lines) would do and say, and I’m proud of myself. I don’t look back, but I’m positive that I leave Logan standing in shock at my curt behavior.
I don’t care. I’m done worrying what he thinks of me. It doesn’t matter anymore. The only thing that matters is getting to David.
Chapter Thirty
When I get back to my apartment, I’m at a loss. My entire body is vibrating with the need to get to David and correct his assumptions before he decides to forget about me for good.
But I know he’s with his kids right now. And, I don’t want to explain how much I care about him over text.
I pace back and forth trying to decide when the best time to call him would be.
I’m terrified he won’t pick up. Logan and I were hardly engaging in serious PDA, but I could tell by David’s face that he saw our hug and thought it meant something more. He probably thought I was so stressed out by dating him and then getting caught by his daughter in his kitchen that I ran headlong back into the arms of my ex.
I wish I had screamed at Logan. I don’t care if it would have caused a scene, at least then David would have heard me say, once and for all, that I was done with Logan.