I could understand why he was afraid of getting up. I’d been pretty nervous and I had little to worry about compared to him or any of these other guys. How many of the other parolees were actually innocent like Paul? That was something I had never considered. That and the thought of relapsing. Once these men had been imprisoned once, I knew the recidivism rate was high. It was one of the reasons I’d joined a program like this. I knew most of these guys weren’t inherently bad guys. They weren’t like my father – at least not yet.
As the next individual stood up to speak, I zoned out and somehow my thoughts ended up on what something long-term with Paul would be like. Would his past affect us? I glanced to Paul on my right. He was sitting with one hand on the table, legs crossed, looking fairly relaxed. He was resilient, he’d fight through any issues that came up. He’d gotten this far. But what about how it would affect me? I already had to deal with a racist mother, I couldn’t begin to imagine that with a long-term boyfriend who wasn’t white. I couldn’t let that affect me though – it wasn’t Paul’s fault his ex set him up or that my mother was insane. If he was in, then I could deal with all the baggage my mother brought to the table. I smiled slightly at the thought of watching her turn red.
The speakers changed and another man walked to the front of the room. It distracted my train of thought for only a moment.
At the very least, I should have Paul tell me more. I did deserve that much. I could wait a bit longer, though. He'd tell me when he was ready, right? Yes. He would.
I was done doubting him for now – I’d just end up stressing myself out. I let my gaze fall from the ceiling to the program enrollee who was sharing. The man was finishing up.
“Hey.” Paul turned to me. “Why do I want to go hiking so much nowadays?”
“That’s random.” I grinned and shrugged. “Maybe you’re addicted and we’ll have to go again soon so you get your fix.”
“Keep up this time.”
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll try not to take breaks every five minutes because of butt pains.” Paul laughed silently. We both knew that was him. He shot a quick glance to Will but the instructor just rolled his eyes, seemingly not bothered by our whispering.
The program finished shortly after and I took Paul home. On the ride we made plans to hike the upcoming weekend, I told him more about Alexander the unruly kid, and he told me about his work drama.
I pulled up to the front of his house and he kissed me before unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the door. He looked back before speaking. “I’m excited to go hiking. Although, I don’t know if you want to take me anywhere there are trees.” He stopped briefly, grinning. “I don’t know if I’m totally over the association of forests yet. But I’ll try to behave.” He gave me another kiss before getting out of the car, shutting the door, and leaning against the open window.
“I’m not worried about you misbehaving,” I said, letting out an involuntary giggle. I could feel a blush coming on – hopefully I’d be gone by then.
“Perfect,” he said, standing up. “Have you tried to talk to your mother since last night?”
I shook my head. “Nope!”
“Cool,” he said, giving me one last smile and a wave before grabbing his bag from the backseat of the car and turning to walk toward his house.
Fifteen
Paul
It was certainly a lot to process. The past few days had been a whirlwind, so I stood on door duty at work (typical) and let my thoughts run wild. Well, at least wild with the good ones. I skipped most of the wedding and all of Kelsey’s mom. Instead, I focused on our private afterparty. This was the only time doors was bearable – when I had something pleasant to ruminate on. But even the thought of laying under the tree with my angel couldn’t prevent my back from creaking after standing there for an hour. What would she think of me calling her an angel? I cracked a smile. Or, even worse, my angel.
“Paul.” I jumped as a voice spooked me from behind. I turned. It was just Patterson.
“Scared the daylights out of me,” I said, settling back to lean against the carts.
“Sorry,” he said with a giant grin. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your daydream. I would ask if you made any progress but I’m guessing by that smile that keeps appearing, something good happened.”
“Pat,” I said, “I think I’m in love.”
“Oh, well that’s a development, even if you are exaggerating. What happened?”
I turned to him. “Whatever it was, I feel reborn.”
“Paul, that doesn’t answer my question. You know how curious I get.”
We both laughed before I answered. “What can I say? She’s a great dancer.” Just speaking about it sent my gaze to the red Target ceiling, replaying different moments with her. Patterson snapped his fingers twice.
“You’re a mess,” he said. “That’s all I’ve got to say.”
“I know.” I pulled out a cart for an elderly lady as she entered. “For my own happiness, I think I need to become good enough for her.” I checked my phone. Break time. I started walking in the direction of the breakroom.
Patterson’s eyes narrowed as he followed. “What do you mean?”
“Well,” I said, “I’m always worried she’s going to leave. But I don’t have to sit around here and wait until she realizes she’s too good for me. I can better myself and my situation so that once she goes to reevaluate my worth – once we’re out of the honeymoon phase, I think – I’ll still be worth staying with.”
“Hmm,” Patterson said. “Not bad. You just come up with that?”
“I have a lot of time to think over here,” I said, shrugging.
“How are you going to make yourself worth it?”
“I was thinking about going back to school.” I couldn’t tell if that was a dumb idea or not – I hadn’t told anyone yet. “I don’t know what I’d want to do yet, though.” That was a lie. How else would I know I needed to go back to school if I didn’t know exactly what I wanted to do?
“Come join me.” Patterson lightly punched me on the shoulder. “I’ve got a few years left.” He leaned forward and whispered, “I failed a few classes.” He had mentioned taking longer than the four years to graduate. I’d have to look into his school, see if they offered my program. “What classes would you take?”
“Not sure yet,” I said. “I still have to do some more research. Something that is not this.” I stopped in front of the break room and gestured to the whole store with both my hands. “Because this is awful.”
Walking in to begin my break, I heard him call “New wife, new life.” I laughed and shook my head. I wasn’t sure if that was the saying or if that was how I’d put it, but sure. New wife, new life. I pulled out my phone to continue my research. “Now to get that new life, not lose that potential wife, and figure out how to coexist with her mom or send her to the moon,” I said under my breath. Her mother really is bad for my health, I thought, taking a seat for a much-needed break.
Sixteen
Kelsey
Alexander was driving me crazy, yet again. No surprise there. I was thankful it was the end of the day though. After work, I could drown my pain with Paul’s wine. I hoped he had wine. If not, we could pick some up. I’d almost forgotten I was supposed to meet him there after work. That helped relieve some of the pain of today a bit.
I sighed as I sat at my desk, watching the clock more than the kids. It was past dismissal time - where were these parents? Only Alexander and his little gang could make me so impatient. I was beginning to loathe coming into work. What a year, I thought, rubbing my eyes.
One of the kids walked up to me. “You look tired.”
Yeah, no shit. “I’ve been up late at night, working on making all these math games for you,” I said. “Go sit down.” That last part was a bit more terse than I would have liked, but it got the job done. Only work made me tense like that.
I pushed the papers dedicated to Alexander’s behavior out of the way, looking for
my phone. It was quite a challenge as I had at least three folders dedicated to my little troublemaker. Glancing at the folders reminded me of the most recent incident, when he broke a student’s fingers because they wouldn’t share their play-doh. He was suspended for two days, but his mother dropped him off at school the next morning anyway. Talk about infuriating. The school had to have a cop come in and sit with the kid until she came back to pick him up, and the officer could barely handle Alexander. How did they expect me to handle thirty other kids on top of that? I shook my head. Those child’s broken fingers had almost caused a fight between the parents – with me stuck in the middle of it all. Alexander needed help, but it was hard to get any more substantial supoorts for him in place when his mom refused everything we offered her, from in-home counseling, to a behavioral one-on-one for him. She didn’t want him to be labeled, but myself, and the rest of the students, were suffering from her negligence.
Finally, the kids were all picked up and I could go enjoy myself for a few hours before I had to be back here the next morning. I could stop seething about Alexander’s in-denial mother. The boy was going to have issues later in life if we didn’t nip it in the bud now. But what did she care? Seemingly not at all. I allowed myself one last moment to dwell on the day’s events before sitting in my car, attempting to banish all thoughts of the school and children from my mind. Pulling on my seatbelt, I started the car and drove out of the parking lot.
I made good time to Target. Paul was already waiting outside in his uniform sans badge and equipment. I knew he hated Target but at least there was one benefit. Employee discount. Of course, I wouldn’t say that aloud. I doubted I would care about a discount with my school. “So, what are you planning on making tonight?”
He only smiled wryly. “Now, I can’t ruin the surprise.” He pulled a piece of paper out from his front pocket and referenced it as he chose the aisle to lead us down. “You want the basket?” he asked, handing it to me. “I need to focus.”
“That special a meal, huh?”
He turned toward me but didn’t reply. Smiling, he waved me along. What was he going to make? Whatever it was, I couldn’t wait. Maybe some food would cure this cranky urge I had. Oh, that and some guitar. Maybe I could get him to play or maybe even sing. Suddenly, thoughts from our tree-encounter flooded my conscious and I was suddenly excited, practically skipping behind him as he picked up foods and placed them in the basket.
“I didn’t know you could cook,” I said.
“Just pretend I can’t,” he answered. “Then you’ll be surprised no matter how bad it is.” He threw in cheese to go along with the taco shells. Ah, so he was going to treat me to tacos. I could deal with that. My stomach rumbled.
“Sounds like we should go check out.” He wrapped his arms around me. “Someone’s hungry.”
“You forget to eat when dealing with a million kids,” I said. “It’s a problem.”
We approached a self-checkout lane at the same time as a middle-aged couple. Paul slowed and let them go in first. I thought I heard the man mutter something to himself. He looked grumpy, maybe even more than I felt. Had Paul heard what the man mumbled? I looked to Paul, but he didn’t give it away if he had. He took the items from my basket and put them on the belt.
“I wonder what you’re making,” I said, putting my pointer finger to my lips. Again, Paul just smiled. “Are you up to something?”
He only shrugged. “Nope.”
The middle-aged man spoke up, louder this time. “Janet, put a barrier between our stuff.” He shot a quick glance to Paul, a small frown definitely present on his face. Okay, some people were peculiar about their groceries. Paul said nothing, just idly rubbed my side, his arm still wrapped around me.
The older couple finished paying and moved to the end of the checkout lane. The man finished bagging his items as his wife started to walk away. “Janet, one minute,” he said, with a not-so-quiet whisper. The man looked to me as Paul paid. I walked down and began to bag up the groceries. “Oh, you’re not paying?” he asked. The man’s used a gentle grandfatherly tone but the implication was clear. I was caught off guard.
“Oh, uh, no,” I said. “He’s treating me.” I gestured to Paul.
“Interesting,” the man said, handing his groceries to Janet. He crossed his arms.
“Did you forget something?” Paul asked, swiping his card.
“Nope.” The old man continued to watch Paul. I looked between the two, incredibly confused. Paul finished paying and came down to help me bag our items. The man finally walked away.
“What was that about?” I asked. “Did you know him?”
Paul didn’t answer at first. His jaw was tense, his eyes focused on bagging the groceries. Eventually he shook his head. “No, I don’t.”
“Oh,” I said. “That was weird.” We made our way from the bagging station and out of the store.
“Weird?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “What was that all about?”
He stopped walking. “You have no idea?”
“Not really.”
“A more subtle method of racism than your mother.” He began walking again.
“Oh.” I was processing the situation and his words, leaving me relatively speechless.
“Never had to deal with that before, huh?”
“No, not really.” I followed him to his car and we silently unloaded the groceries into the backseat. “Meet you at your place?”
He nodded, face still tight with tension. I wanted to give him a kiss or something but I was frozen to the spot. I turned and made my way to my car. I imagined he didn’t mind having the car to himself now. Hopefully the drive home would give me time to come up with something relatively intelligent to say.
After a short drive to his house, I parked my car on the street and stepped out. He had already exited his car and was waiting for me. Leading me to his place, he still didn’t speak.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked once we had gotten inside.
“Not really.” He shook his head. He threw the keys on the counter and began putting away the groceries. Then he went into the bedroom briefly, and I heard him mutter something about the man profiling him even when he was wearing his uniform. That was weird, now that he mentioned it. Did he think Paul was going to steal the items? From the store he worked security at? I guess those things did happen, but why would Paul be more likely to do something like that than anyone else? And why did the man ask if I was paying? Obviously I was missing something. I would ask some other time when Paul’s jaw wasn’t strung so tight.
“So,” I said. “Tacos?”
He finished adjusting something in the fridge then straightened up and looked at me. “Nope.” He gave me a fairly relaxed smile. That was an improvement.
“But you got all the taco ingredients…”
“Who said I had to make those tonight?” he asked.
I took two steps toward him and playfully punched his arm before kissing him. He grabbed my butt and kissed me back.
“Okay,” he said, pushing me out of the way, “that’s enough of that. You can’t distract the cook. You can sit on the other side of the bar. Watch me work my magic.”
“I understand, I am pretty tempting.” I sat where he indicated and watched him wash his hands. He rolled his eyes but I caught a small smile. “So, am I allowed to talk while you cook?”
“Of course,” he said. “That’s why I put you there and not on the couch. A bored cook is a bad cook.”
“Did you just make that up?” I asked.
“I did.” He reached into the refrigerator. “You’re not allergic to anything are you?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” I said. “Wouldn’t that be some date? Discovering an allergy?”
“Maybe I should have you sit on the couch.”
He did send me to the couch after that. He said he wanted to preserve the surprise. Thirty minutes later, he came and joined me.
“Done?” I aske
d.
“It’s cooking.” He wrapped his arms around me. “So what are we watching?”
“I’m not even sure.” It was true. I had my attention split between spying on him in the kitchen and daydreaming. I still didn’t know what he was making though, so that would be a surprise.
“I guess it doesn’t matter then.” His arm rubbed my shoulder. I could understand why cats purred. Such a small gesture was incredibly relaxing from him.
“Hey.” I turned my head to him. “How’s your hiking training going?”
“It’s good, actually.” He paused.
“Something on your mind?” I asked.
“Eh,” he said. “I wish hiking was a profession.”
I cracked a wide grin. “You like hiking don’t you, Paul?”
“Oh, hush. Yes. Much better standing in front of red carts all day,” he said with a sigh.
“I’m sure there’s something you could do that’s like hiking.” I looked around. “Where’s your computer? Let’s take a look.”
We lost track of time searching the internet for possibilities. Some of his suggestions told me that this wasn’t his first time looking this up. Had he been playing coy? Was he embarrassed? I watched him lead the searches and the hints of happiness cover his face. I probably spent an equal amount of time watching his face as watching the screen.
The timer in the kitchen went off, interrupting the job search. Paul hopped up and went into the kitchen, glancing over at me with a mischievous look.
“Are you sure you aren’t poisoning me?” I asked.
“Nope,” he called out, leaning down. “It just smells great. You’re in for a treat.”
“I finally get to figure out what we’re eating?”
“Yep.” The baking sheet clanged against the oven and he set it on the counter.
The smell finally reached my nose. “Fish?”
“That’s not all!” he said, gesturing excitedly. Looked like he had recovered from the grocery store incident. “Come sit at the table and you’ll see.”
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