by Keary Taylor
I hate seeing him like this. It’s not fair that even in sleep he can’t escape the pain of reality.
Something stings at the back of my eyes. Something cracks and folds. That tape I’ve been using to hold myself together the last month is getting tired and it’s sagging.
I turn, and head for the door. And I’m only two steps away from it when one of the wood floorboards gives a terrible creek.
I look back over my shoulder at the same time Drake jerks awake.
We’ve both got the same expression on our faces. Surprised and caught. It’s his normal Drake face. But it’s the first time I’ve ever worn it.
“Are you leaving?” he asks, his voice slightly accusatory.
“I should go,” I say, my voice nearly a whisper. My heart has jumped up into my throat. “We, uh…it’s morning and…”
“You were just going to leave without saying anything?” His voice is hurt sounding, edged with anger.
“What am I supposed to say, Drake?” I hiss, feeling the temperature of my blood rise. “What is there to be said after a night like that?”
“I don’t know,” he says as he climbs out of the bed and takes a few steps toward me. He crosses his arms over his chest. “But pretty much anything would be better than just walking out without a word.”
“Drake, I don’t know what you want me to say,” I argue. I wrap my arms around myself, an emotional defensive move. “Last night was amazing but it was so, so wrong and you know it. And it just—”
“Nothing about last night was wrong,” he defends, his jaw clenching. “You know it, and I know it. That…that was the way things are supposed to be.”
“But they aren’t!” I yell. My hand not clutching my shoes jumps to my hair to fist in it. “They aren’t Drake, and there’s no use pretending like you didn’t knock some other woman up and that you don’t have an obligation to her and that I don’t deserve to be anywhere near that picture. I mean, what the hell were you thinking, coming to my apartment last night?”
The Drake look is suddenly back on his face. He stands there silent and with his mouth hanging slightly open. His hands shift down to rest on his hips.
“I don’t know,” he says quietly, his eyes falling to the floor. “I wasn’t thinking much at all. I just reacted.”
“You can’t save me, Drake,” I say quietly, all the anger seeping out of me, leaving me tired and heavy. “And you need to realize that I’m not part of your story anymore.”
He gives a nod. I see the muscles in his jaw tighten and relax several times. His eyes don’t come back to mine, and for that I’m glad.
I turn back to the door, open it, and walk out.
I don’t remember walking down the hall or down the stairs, but suddenly I’m out in front of the building. The day is grey and not very warm, but at least it isn’t raining. I slip my pumps on and start walking down the sidewalk.
My phone dings with a text message. I pull it out of my purse and see it’s from Armando.
Sorry, worked late last night and then Anthony came over. You okay?
“Kaylee?”
I look up from my phone and search for the source of the voice. A minivan has pulled over to the curb with the window rolled down. I duck down just a touch to see who’s inside.
It’s Drake’s mom.
“Hi, Mrs. McCain,” I say, trying to force a smile onto my face.
“It’s good to see you, sweetheart,” she says, a genuine smile on her own face. “You look beautiful, though I’m not sure why you’re walking around town dressed that way.”
“It’s a long story,” I try to explain. “But the short of it was I came home from school last night and my building had gotten smoked out.”
Robin looks at me for a long moment and I can see conflict in her eyes. I’m very obviously walking back from her son’s apartment.
“I’m glad Drake gave you someplace to stay,” she says. “I know how much he’s missed you.”
That’s all it takes to make my eyes well and redden.
“Oh, sweetie,” she says as she shifts into park. She reaches over to the passenger side and pushes the door open. “Get in. You look like you could use a good breakfast and an ear to listen. And maybe even some words of advice.”
I bite my lower lip, hesitate for just a moment, and climb inside.
A little shiver works its way up my spine as she rolls the window up and blasts the heat for me. My nose has, of course, started running and I give a little sniff as I wipe under my eyes.
“So, where we going for breakfast?” I ask when I don’t know what else to say.
“Nothing helps heal a broken heart quite like home cooking,” she says as she reaches over and gives my knee a little squeeze.
A laugh that sounds a little nasally and awkward bubbles up out of me. “I couldn’t agree more,” I say when she hands me a tissue from a stash in the door of her minivan. “Wish I’d had that growing up.”
Robin gives me a little smile and doesn’t say a word as we make our way to their home.
The house is quiet when we get there. It’s not quite eight o’clock this Sunday morning. I have little doubt that Lake and Kale are still sleeping. We come in through the door to the garage and Robin tells me to hang the jacket I stole from Drake on the hook in the mud room.
Robert sits at the kitchen table, peering through a set of reading glasses perched on his nose and reading a newspaper. He looks up at us when we walk through the door.
“Well, good morning, darling,” he says, looking at me and not his wife. This makes me smile. “Don’t you look pretty this morning?”
“How about I go look through some of Sage’s old things and see if there isn’t something you can change into?” Robin asks, placing a soft hand on my upper arm.
“I’d really appreciate that, thanks,” I say with a smile.
She shuffles off down the hall, leaving Robert and I alone.
“Why don’t you have a seat?” he says, pushing out a chair for me with his foot under the table. I walk over and sink down into it.
“The team’s been playing hard this season,” I say before any awkward silence can take root.
Robert shakes his head and gives the smallest of eye rolls. “I don’t know about that. Bunch of hormonal boys more concerned about girls than the game that might get them full-ride scholarships.”
“Sounds like typical high school boys to me,” I say.
He gives a chuckle and nods his head.
“Try these on,” Robin suddenly says from behind me. She hands over some clothing items.
“Thanks.” I head for the bathroom she points toward. I’m nearly there when Lake shuffles out of his bedroom. His hair is sticking straight up on one side and his eyes are puffy and mostly closed with sleep.
“What are you doin’ here, Miss Ray?” he says, squinting at me.
“Um…” I say awkwardly.
“Never mind,” he says as he shuffles past me toward the kitchen. I smile just slightly as I watch him go.
I slip into the bathroom and change into the clothes Robin produced for me. The jeans fit okay other than that I have to roll them three times so I don’t trip on them. There is also a white undershirt, which I’m grateful for considering I still don’t have a bra, since one did not work under my dress. There’s also a black t-shirt, which is quite long, but otherwise fits all right.
I walk back out and head for the kitchen. Lake shuffles back toward me, a banana in hand. He squints at me again. “Now you’re wearing my sister’s clothes. Are you moving in?”
“No,” I say with a chuckle. “Go back to bed, Lake.”
He just gives an affirmative nod and walks back into his bedroom and closes the door.
I round the corner into the kitchen and find Robin working on breakfast. She’s pouring pancake batter onto a skillet and on the stove behind her I can see eggs and bacon cooking as well.
“Can I help with anything?” I ask.
Robin shakes
her head. “Sometimes you just have to let someone take care of you, sweetie, and I can tell today is one of those days for you.”
“Well, thanks,” I say awkwardly as I sink onto one of the stools at the bar. I prop my chin up on my hand, my elbow on the Formica counter. “What were you out to do when you found me this morning anyway?”
“I was on my way to Drake’s,” she says, glancing up from her cooking. “I was going to invite him to dinner tonight. And to check on him.”
“You do much of that lately?” I ask, already feeling uncomfortable, but curious none the less.
Robin looks at me a long moment. There’s been conflict on her face since the first moment she saw me this morning. She has no reason to dislike me, but she is also Drake’s mother. Mothers protect their sons. They also generally take their sides. Even if, in reality, there aren’t any real sides to this situation.
“I think I’ve gotten to know enough about you to see this situation has wrecked the both of you,” she finally says as she flips two pancakes. “Drake’s been a bit of a mess.”
“Really?” I ask. It slips out before I can stop it.
“I don’t think you’re surprised to hear that,” she says, giving me a serious look. “My son loves you more than he’s ever loved anything in his life. He’s managing to take care of his responsibilities, but he’s a useless lump outside of those times.”
“Wouldn’t even get out of bed that first weekend,” Robert pipes up. I look over my shoulder at him. He’s folded his newspaper up and climbs out of his chair to sit by me at the bar. “I practically had to drag him by his shirt collar out of his apartment and to our house for Sunday dinner.”
I chew on my lower lip, my stomach feeling knotted. This isn’t easy. But somehow it makes me feel better than I expected, sitting here, hearing the outside observation of his parents.
“How’s he handling the whole Diana situation?” I ask. “That’s not something we can exactly talk about.”
“I’m sure it isn’t,” Robin says as she sets a plate with two pancakes in front of me. I’m not hungry at all, but she’s being so nice. So motherly. “Drake…he’s trying. He wants to do the right thing with the baby and give it the best home he can. He’s been trying to give things with Diana a second chance. It wasn’t like they broke up for some horrendous reason. Things just weren’t going anywhere. So he’s been trying.”
The knife that’s been in my heart the past four weeks gets shoved in a little deeper.
“But you can’t force something that isn’t there,” she adds, just as she gives me a plate with a pile of scrambled eggs and three slices of bacon. “But he’s doing what he should. He’s been to two doctors’ appointments with Diana. They’re going to do another ultrasound in a few weeks to find out the gender of the baby. I think he is excited for that.”
I try to smile, but it just hurts. “I bet it’s a girl,” I say.
Robin smiles too. “I think he’d be adorable with a flock of little girls.”
“Hey,” Robert says defensively. “I need some grandsons. Maybe I’ll live long enough to coach two generations of McCain players.”
“You will,” Robin says, giving him a stern scowl. “Which is why you only get this for breakfast.”
She pushes a bowl of fruit in his direction.
“You’re a mean, mean woman,” he teases as he stabs a fork into a piece of pineapple.
“A mean woman who wants you around for a long, long time,” she says as she leans over the bar and presses a kiss to his nose.
They’re adorable and everything I ever wanted growing up.
I silently wonder if I’ve gotten any leads on my picture post yet.
“How are you handling everything?” Robin says as the sweet moment fades away. She scoops more pancakes onto a plate. “I can’t imagine this has been easy.”
I shake my head and swallow a bite of eggs. “It hasn’t. It’s been really, really hard. But I’m proud of him. If that makes any sense. He’s doing the right thing. He’s a good man.”
Robin gives me a sad little smile. “He is. Always has been,” she adds. “When he was a kid, back in elementary school there was this little boy that was getting picked on. Drake wasn’t very big, never has been, but that didn’t stop him from telling the bully off. He came home with a black eye that night and was so angry about that boy.”
“Oh no,” I say with a little laugh.
Robin nods and chuckles too. “He kept at it. He couldn’t stand to see anyone picked on. He got beat up a few more times, but he got it to stop eventually.”
“He’s always been a good kid,” Robert says around a mouthful of strawberry. “Never gave us much of any trouble. Until I caught him with a pack of cigarettes his senior year.”
“He told me how he smoked all through college,” I say with a small wrinkle of my nose.
“I guess no one’s perfect,” Robert says. “Could have killed him for doing that to himself though. Hope he doesn’t get lung cancer someday ‘cause of it.”
That brings a rock to my stomach.
“You better have saved some of that for me.”
We all turn to see a sleepy looking Kale in the doorway of the kitchen. He lurks there with his dark hair wild, standing in every direction. And wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs.
Everyone chuckles.
“I need bacon. Now,” he says as he half zombie walks into the kitchen. “And OJ.”
Robin reaches into the fridge and pulls out a jug of orange juice and hands it over to him. He unscrews the cap and starts chugging it down.
“Don’t worry,” Robin says with a shake of her head. “That jug is just for him. I’ve got another for the rest of us.”
“I thought you and my brother broke up,” Kale says after a long pull.
“Kaylee needed somewhere to spend the night,” Robin pipes up, looking over at me. “Her apartment got smoked out so we’re giving her a place to spend the night till she can go home. Isn’t that right, Kaylee?”
“Uh…” I stutter, trying to form words.
“Don’t worry about Drake,” Robin says. “Sage can’t come up this afternoon anyway. I’ll tell Drake we’ll have dinner next week. You two don’t have to see each other.”
“Awkward,” Kale says as he shoves three slices of bacon into his mouth at the same time.
We all chuckle.
“Thank you,” I say. “I really appreciate it.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“So? How’d the dance go?”
Hannah practically bounces when the bell rings at the end of second period. A ridiculous smile spreads on her face and she sinks into the front desk as everyone clears out.
“It was perfection,” she says with a long sigh. “We danced and he kissed me and then when he took me home, he kissed me again. And then yesterday he asked if I wanted to be his actual girlfriend and everything’s just…” She trails off into a long, contented sigh.
“I’m happy for you,” I say, managing a small smile. “It looked like you were having a good time.”
“Indeed,” she says, standing from her desk. She crosses over to me and wraps me in a tight hug. “Thanks. None of it would have happened if it weren’t for you.”
“Glad I could do some good,” I say.
And Hannah floats out of my classroom on cloud nine.
I sit down at my desk and open my laptop. I check my email and respond to a few questions from students about assignments. I then check my personal email.
There’s an email from one Principal Phillips, from a high school down in Olympia. As I scroll through it, my heart starts beating faster and my palms start sweating.
This is a private school. A very expensive one. One that takes trips to the places they study, one that has parents with the money to fly these students and their teachers on personal jets. And they’re looking for a new history teacher.
They want me to come interview for the job.
I lean back in my seat and
stare at the screen. I press a fist into my mouth and swivel back and forth slightly.
They’ve said nothing about pay, but I have to assume it’s better than what I’m getting right now. And a private school like this is a teacher’s dream.
But most appealing of all, is the possible promise of a new start. A chance to begin fresh, to wipe the slate clean. To get away from Drake, to get away from the drama of my mother. To go somewhere where people don’t know I got dumped by another teacher at the school.
I don’t know what to say, so I decide to wait another day to reply to the email.
I need you tonight, I text Armando. Think Anthony will let me steal you for the evening?
He responds two minutes later. Told lover my bestie needs me tonight. I’m all yours!
See you at seven!
Armando knocks on the door at exactly seven and I open the door and immediately grab his wrist and start pulling him down the hall with me.
“Walk with me,” I say before he can ask for an explanation. “I need to move and think today.”
“It’s like, forty degrees outside,” he complains as we walk down the stairs. The building still smells slightly of smoke, but nothing too horrible.
“You’ve got a coat and a scarf,” I say as we step out into the cool fall air. The weather report is not any better. There’s a chance of snow by the end of the week. I hope it holds off for a few days at least. Mom is supposed to fly in on Saturday and Seattle does not handle snow well.
“So, what is so important it requires a walk in the freezing cold?” Armando asks, only slightly annoyed sounding.
We set off north, so we’ll stay well away from Drake’s apartment. There’s a park a few blocks from here that I have in mind.
“You know how awful things have been the past few weeks,” I say. Armando puts an arm around my shoulders and I wrap my right one around his waist. “Well, today I got this email from a private school down in Olympia asking me to interview for a position.”
“Private school?” he asks. A gust picks up, threatening to tear away both our scarves. We hug each other tighter. “That’s pretty exciting, right?”