The Sunday before my first day at work, I received a much-needed call from Carrie. She broke some unexpected news to me and I was happy for her. It proved to me that life goes on.
“I’m having a mini handball player,” was the first thing she blurted out.
“A what?” I asked, double-checking the caller ID to confirm I was speaking with my friend.
“Well, I’m not sure what it is, but I know he or she will play handball, be funny, and love chocolate.”
“A baby,” I’d gasped, my gut clenching at her announcement. “Congrats. Oliver must be over the moon.”
“He is. The rest of the guys are freaking.”
“Why?” I frowned. “They’re not giving you two a hard time about your relationship, right?” Carrie’s older than Oliver, so their union was a surprise to some of us. “Do I need to come back and kick someone’s ass?”
“Simmer down, street fighter. Jared beat the vasectomy train. Marla is expecting number six. Josh is up to three.”
“You’re kidding,” I chuckled.
“Nope. I think the only one not looking forward to the new arrivals is Gabe. He won’t be the youngest any longer. He mentioned something about having to wear clothes more.”
“That kid is a riot.”
We both laughed for a minute longer and then she inquired, “You loving the new place? If not, I’m on the first flight out there to help you pack.”
“No. I like this town. The people are so nice. I think it’s good for me.
I told her more about my job and she mentioned the goings-on with my Brooklyn and Manhattan peeps. We ended our chat with a promise that she and the rest of our girl tribe would visit soon.
“Give it back,” number seven shouts, growling at number eight, and I inwardly groan.
The twins, Riley and Reagan, with their blond tresses of course, look exactly alike, but their personalities couldn’t be more different. Both love horses, but where Reagan is the more boisterous twin, Riley is reserved. She’d rather sit in a quiet space and write a story than play with her classmates.
“But I don’t wanna.” Reagan holds the pencil up in the air while Riley jumps for it. “You said you’d play dolly with me.”
“Okay, girls.” I gently grab the pencil from Reagan. The last thing I need is another man-down situation like I had with Thomas, little number nine, on my second day of work. Bumped his noggin on the locker by jumping too high. He wanted to prove to number three, Caleb, that he could.
Kids.
Things seem to go wrong when Taylor leaves me alone with them. Part of me suspects there are hidden cameras and she and Hannah watch my interaction with the kids. They’re probably laughing their asses off. I promised her I’d get them in some semblance of order because today we’re having lunch in the park and heading to The Reading Nook afterward for story time. This is my first one and I’m nervous.
Usually, one of the workers, Ruth, and Taylor each reads a story to them, but Taylor thought it might be fun if I gave it a shot.
Fun, right.
I can picture it now. Number six, Sarina, will convince half of the children to throw their juice boxes at me. In contrast, number twelve, Penelope, will tell the other half to aim their leftover sandwiches.
When Taylor first told me about my public speaking debut, I played it off as if it was no big deal. I must’ve shown some fear in my eyes because she gave me a reassuring pep talk on Tuesday. It worked a little, but as the hours tick by, my frayed nerves are beginning to affect my decision making.
For example, number two, Dylan, and number five, William, don’t get along and should sit at separate tables. Yet I can’t remember who number eleven, Aiden, prefers to sit next to.
“Okay, guys,” I shout, garnering attention from my group. “Time to line up. Leaders in the front, caboose at the end, everyone else in the middle.”
I sense a pull at the bottom of my shirt. I glance down, catching the eyes of number ten, Alejandro.”
“But it’s my turn to be the leader. Miss Taylor said ...” He trails off when he sees his classmates mostly in line. Not wanting to be left out, I assume, he mulls over to his spot at the end of the line.
“Way to go, Marley,” Taylor congratulates me for getting the troops in line, when, in reality, I have no idea why they listened. Preschoolers can be a fickle bunch.
“Uh, thanks?” It comes off as a question, but she ignores it, shaking her head at me instead.
“Okay, guys. Are you ready for your field trip?”
“Yes,” they simultaneously cheer.
“If I said the word ‘cake,’ I’d get the same response,” Taylor whispers in my ear and I giggle. “I know they intimidate you, but I swear you’ll get over it real fast. I have to remind myself daily that I’m the grown-up, and they are the children. Sure, they have some hardcore vibrato, but they’re learning how to be the adults, and it’s up to us to teach them. Besides, ninety-five percent of them are scared of the dark and would do whatever you said if you promised to banish the boogie man.”
“How are you so calm all the time?”
She shrugs. “I have my mom to thank for that aspect of my personality. Have a drink with me this weekend and I’ll tell you all about it.”
“Deal.” I grin.
“Grab the backpack with the lunches and meds and then we’re off.”
Nodding, I walk to her desk and snatch up the bag, slinging it over my shoulder. In single file, me at the end next to Alejandro and Taylor at the front leading Thomas out the classroom door, we make our way to the park, located a half a block away from the school.
Village Park, located in the center of town, seems like the go-to place for many of the residents. During my trek with Lenny into town Sunday morning, I witnessed Tai Chi and other exercise classes, children running amok, and couples picnicking throughout the entire expanse. There’s this harmony about the location, an essence of relaxation which adds another positive layer to the town.
After finding a spot near the shade, I lay the blankets from the classroom supply closet on the ground in a large enough space that all twelve children, Hannah, and I can sit comfortably. Before they eat, I make sure to spray each kid with the insect repellant approved by their respective parents and then we distribute hand sanitizer.
Lunch goes off without a hitch, other than number seven, Riley, squeezing her juice box hard enough that the stream of liquid lands on my gray yoga pants. Luckily it didn’t splash in my crotch area. Who wants to look like they peed on themselves in front of a group of kids?
By the time we arrive at The Reading Nook, my nerves are shot. It’s like I’m Corey Haim from Licensed to Drive and my life depends on passing this test so I can take the popular girl out on a date. Spoiler alert, he fails, and debauchery ensues.
I should stop comparing my life to movies.
I roll my eyes at the thought as Ruth, one of the workers at the store, greets me with a smile and a bottle of water.
“Hi, I’m Marley and I’ll be your co-reader today. Is there anything additional I need to do in preparation? Perhaps arrange the chairs in a certain way? Do we need to seat the children in the back or would you prefer they sit in the front?”
Dear God, I’m a blathering idiot. Again.
Staring me for a beat with a twinkle in her eyes, Ruth grins.
“First time reading to children, huh?”
“Um, no, yes, maybe?” I wince at my warring responses. “I’m not sure how I should respond here. I don’t want you to think I’m crazy. Though, I’m pretty sure you already do.”
“Lenny said you were adorable and funny.” Laughing, she hooks her arm in mine. “I think I’ll choose something easy for your inaugural read. Usually, Taylor preselects the book. I’ve known the girl since she was a kid and she never challenges me when I switch it up.” We stop at the Dr. Seuss section and Ruth skims the shelf, grabbing the third book in. Without seeing the title, I know exactly what book it is the second she slides it out.
A memory of Jamal reading this story to me flashes through my mind as the full cover of Green Eggs and Ham comes into view. He and my father would take turns, acting out the characters while my mother was off doing whatever. It’s one of my favorite memories.
Sorrow fills my heart at the current state of my family and I come close to choking up. Inwardly reciting one of my many affirmations keeps the emotional response at bay.
I will breathe in to calm myself and exhale all things that make me nervous and worried.
Ruth must sense something because she gives me a reassuring squeeze, promising, “You’ll do fine. Remember, as long as you read with heart and make the story sound interesting, the children will hang on your every word. Trust me.”
“Thanks,” I mutter, taking a deep breath. “It’s just this book …” I shake my head. “Never mind. Thank you for your kind words.”
“You’re welcome, Marley. It’s hard being the new person in town. I’m here if you ever need an ear.” She hands me the book, and despite my initial performance reservations, I take it.
Ruth must be an amazing mom, if she has children, that is. She’s been way nicer than my own mother. Speaking of which, I should call her this week.
It’s not that I’ve been avoiding her calls or anything. I spent my first couple of days unpacking and the rest of the time getting to know the people I hope to call my friends one day. My mother has no one and it’s her fault. She drove away the only man who loved her for someone who treated her like shit.
As I make my way to the chair at the center of the circle, Taylor shouts, “showtime” and announces my name. There’s a resounding “yay” from the little people at my feet. With several sets of eager eyes on me, I steel myself from thoughts of my mother and all her drama, focusing solely on the task at hand. The second I speak, my apprehension officially leaves the building. The decision to channel my father and brother’s version of storytelling was a spur of the moment decision, but a good choice nonetheless.
“Thank you for the warm welcome, guys. I’m so happy to be here and read one of my favorite books in the entire world. When I was your age, my dad and brother used to read this book to me Jamal played the adult and my dad read Sam-I-Am.”
“Wow, Miss Marley,” Caleb says.
“I know,” I say, cheerfully. “It was pretty cool. If we have a chance to revisit the story, perhaps I’ll pick one of you guys to turn pages with me.”
“Whoa,” they whisper together. It seems kids like to say things in unison.
They watch in awe as I read each line, being as animated as possible. I receive a lot of oohs and ahs where the story calls for it and I throw in a few random feedback questions to bring them more into the book. Before I know it, I finish, and the kids are asking if I will reread it.
“Only if it’s okay with Miss Taylor,” I say. Taylor gives me a reassuring wink. I call for Ruth and, as she enters the circle, she whispers in my ear, “Way to go, newbie. How am I going to follow that?”
Ruth’s a pro, so, of course, she does. Giggles fill the room as she reads, The Napping House by Audrey Wood, imitating the voices of the characters perfectly. I might have to get some pointers from the skilled bookseller.
“She kicks butt,” Taylor mutters, keeping her volume down. “Too bad her genes didn’t make it to her son.” She rolls her eyes.
“She has kids?”
“Yeah. Just one. And trust me, he’s not worth mentioning.”
“Sore subject?”
“Girl, you don’t know the half of it.” She shakes her head. “But whatever. You did great, by the way. I may have you do this each week and retire Ruth.”
My eyes widen at her suggestion. I haven’t even been in town for two weeks, and she’s ready to have me push the town regular out of a job. Suddenly, I picture I’m in the movie Young Frankenstein and the villagers are waiting outside with torches ready to burn the monster. And I’m the monster.
“Only kidding,” Taylor laughs. “Ruth usually reads two books and I’ll bow out so you two can split it. She loves reading to the kids and they adore her. No sense in rocking the boat. The change could scar them for life.”
“Great,” I croak, barely recovered from her joking declaration.
“Once Ruth is finished, we’ll corral the troops for a bathroom trip and then head back to the classroom for their afternoon nap.
“Good deal.”
As Taylor begins to escort the first group of little people to the restrooms in the back of the store, Ruth comes up to me, her expression beaming.
“You were fantastic and, if I’m not careful, you might try to steal my job. Just so you know, I’m a scrappy old lady and can take you down if necessary.”
“Please. Those kids love you. I’m the newbie here and they may revolt if I give them the wrong color crayon.”
“You’re crazy, honey. You already own their hearts—hook, line, and sinker.”
Before I have the chance to respond, a tiny person joins us, signaling his presence by yanking at the bottom of Ruth’s pretty cashmere sweater. It’s the end of the summer and the only reason she’d be wearing one is due to the chill from the air conditioner. I’ll have to ask her where she got it.
“Miss Ruth, can I have coffee?” Caleb asks, his serious expression comical. “My daddy said it made him big and strong. I wanna be tall like him.”
“Hmm.” She taps her lips with her index finger. “I have a better idea, how about you and I head to the bathroom first and, when you’re done, we’ll talk about it. Sound fair?”
The kid frowns as if solving an existential crisis and finally comes to a decision.
“Okay, but don’t forget.”
“I won’t.”
Ruth flashes me a “this kid is a real character” expression and then makes her way to the line. To keep the children who’ve finished with their restroom visit occupied, I ask them to tell me their favorite Disney movie. It was a tossup between Frozen and Moana.
I’m a Mulan girl.
She’s a total badass, saving China from the Huns, and everything. I envy her and only wish I had a similar strength.
The good thing about Falls Village is I have the option to reinvent myself. It’s been close to a week and I’m already feeling the positive effects of the scenery change. I can honestly say, I fit.
I miss Carrie and my friends terribly, but with Taylor, Ruth, and Lenny being part of my new cheer squad, I’m going to love it here. It’s like in the movie Bring it On, when Torrance holds auditions for an opening on her new team. I’m Missy, the LA chick with a chip on her shoulder. Like her, my nervous resolve cracked the second Lenny introduced himself, it wavered when Taylor laughed at my awful joke, and, finally, it was obliterated with Ruth’s pep talk.
How is this my life?
Brooklyn will always be my hometown, but it's safe to say, I have my red pom-poms and I’m rooting hardcore for Falls Village. I want to shout, rah, rah, rah, and go, team, go, out loud, but I’ll save my reaction for when I walk into my living room this evening.
“That’s everyone.” Taylor does a second count after asking the kids to line up, shortest to the tallest. Alejandro beams at being in the front again while William appears close to tears. “You take the rear. He’s a wanderer.”
I glance at my new companion. He gives me the most innocent smile, his frown from a second ago gone. It’s then I realize I haven’t used numbers to remind myself of my student's names all afternoon.
Eureka.
William uses my momentary distraction to reach for a book on the shelf behind me.
“Come on, little guy. Give Miss Marley a break.” Surprisingly, the kid does, skipping to his classmates, waiting patiently at the front door. Right before I step through the threshold, I get a prickly sensation at the nape of my neck. It’s as if I’m being watched. I turn to my right, catching Ruth gabbing at someone behind the stacks. I attempt to focus on who the person is, but the shelves and rows of books block my view. My attentio
n goes back to a bouncing William and I grab him by the hand to keep the kid close, forgetting all about the weird feeling. I replace it with thoughts of the new direction my life has taken, eager to follow the path to a new me.
7
The Truth Shall Set You Free
Bro tip #14
Mothers are good for many things. Relationship advice, not so much.
Cole
“What the hell, mom?” I shout, bringing her attention from a customer to me. She scowls in my direction for a second, turns back to her customer, excusing herself. Striding toward me, she flashes a disapproving expression. I manage to place my emotions in check. After all, she is my mother and I should show some respect.
But can she blame me for being upset?
My mother and ex-lover, chatting it up with the woman of my dreams as if they’ve all been friends for years.
Talk about a mindfuck.
When I first caught sight of Sparkle, grinning while she read to the children, my heart soared. It plummeted seconds later when I realized she’s not supposed to be here. She left me. I had no idea I was this bitter until now. What I should’ve done was confront her and demand to know how she’s pushed her way into my life. Hell, she’s fucking besties with Taylor, a girl I slept with a week ago.
“What is wrong with you?”
“Only my mom went behind my back and somehow found out from Mason about my New York hook up.” Yes, my rant seems a bit convoluted, but screw it, I’m on a roll. “Then, she managed to bring said woman to my hometown.”
“First off, what? And, secondly, lower your voice, Cole. There are children here.”
“I will not lower my voice and, in case you haven’t noticed,” I motion to the front door. “They’re all gone.”
What Once Was Mine Page 7