by Kata Čuić
He nuzzles his face into her hair, making her giggle. “That I am, little darlin’. How was your day?”
“I missed you!” She does her best to strangle him, but at least it’s not because she’s clinging to her anger from weeks ago. It helps that we don’t discuss anything in front of her. Which means we haven’t discussed anything of importance.
He takes her loving abuse in stride, carrying her into the kitchen as he follows Mama’s orders to come and get his supper that she kept warm for him. She takes feeding people very seriously, and the thought of Jesse going home to an empty trailer so late most nights is unconscionable in her eyes—even if she’s not ready to speak to either him or Daddy yet. Apparently, Mama’s temper doesn’t burn as hot as mine but for far, far longer.
Jesse eats with one hand while Anne perches on his knee and babbles on about her day, a stack of books ready and waiting on the table for them to go through together.
As the weeks have slid through to a new year, we’ve fallen into a routine cobbled together with bricks of necessity and mortar of want. Anne has no idea how fragile the system really is, but that’s by design.
I sit on the opposite side of the table from them, placing the folder between us. I tap my finger against it. “We have to talk about this.”
He glances up from his inspection of a new unicorn drawing. “Ya got questions about the documents?”
“Yes. Namely, why I have to sign them in the first place.”
He furrows his brow like he doesn’t understand then cuts a quick glance to Anne in his lap as she drags her finger through his half-eaten mashed potatoes. “My contract as high school principal was drafted pursuant to my full disclosure of my relationship with a previously hired instructor in the district who would be an employee in my buildin’. The superintendent welcomed me on board, completely aware of my situation, and also gave his full support of my intentions. It was mutually agreed upon that should my plans come to fruition, I would relinquish my role as supervisor to said employee.”
Anne might be reading well above her age level, but there’s no chance her vocabulary contains his careful word choices.
His choices make me want to pull my hair out and scream obscenities not fitting for young ears, but I smother my urges. My tone is even and calm. “Do you mean to tell me the principal of the high school fully disclosed intimately personal matters with the superintendent of the entire district about said employee?”
“I mean to tell ya the superintendent of the entire school district just so happens to be a fellow alumnus of Marshall who also happened to be in the same fraternity I was in, and I may have used that to my advantage over some strong libations one fine evenin’.”
I can’t believe my ears. “I hate to disappoint the principal from believing he’s covered every base, but my contract was not drafted with those same devious intentions.”
“I’m the principal of the buildin’.” He smiles tightly as Anne’s gaze volleys between us. “I know full well the terms of every contract for new hires in the district. Nowhere does it state ya are prohibited from the actions you’re stubbornly denyin’ yourself.”
“Denying myself?” I hiss, changing course and smiling brightly when Anne’s gaze shoots to me. “While regrettably, there were some unintended ramifications that stemmed from my past actions, those carefully crafted plans were never meant to do anything other than preserve the career and choices of the district’s newest hire.”
Jesse raises an eyebrow and sticks his tongue in his cheek. “Well, the newest hire accepts his employee’s apology, but he soundly rejects the presumptions of her ill-thought plans. His choices were made long ago, and he requests his employee to respect his wishes on the matter.”
I pick up the folder and wave it around. “The principal’s choices are not choices at all. The plan has been drafted with clear bias. These contracts are born from a sense of pride and duty rather than truthful desire.”
He hoists Anne more fully onto his lap. The jerk is using her for protection from my full wrath. “I do apologize my employee has wasted precious time concernin’ herself with jeopardizin’ either of our careers, but as ya can see, the situation is well at hand. I also understand these here negotiations have stalled out. Therefore, I respectfully suggest a change in tactic.”
Oh, I’ve got a change of tactic to suggest. “I’m gonna sign these here papers just to have ya outta my hair for half the day.”
Jesse chuckles.
Anne grabs his face in her hands and pulls him to meet her serious stare. “Ooh. Daddy you’re in trouble. Mommy only talks like that when she’s real mad.”
He kisses her on the forehead and laughs. “Little darlin’, I been in trouble with your mama for twenty years. Thing is…” He leans close and whispers, “I like it.”
Anne’s eyes grow wide.
“Bath time!” I jump out of my seat before she can latch onto the idea of using her fiery temperament for personal enjoyment.
Luckily, she runs down the hall, probably hoping for bubbles. I lean into Jesse as he carries his plate to the sink. “Don’t give her any ideas!”
He winks and pats my bottom when I turn to leave.
“This conversation is not over,” I promise him over my shoulder.
“Now you’re finally startin’ to see it my way!” he calls back.
Three Years Ago
“I’m so proud of ya!” Her arms shake as she wraps ‘em around me. She promised she’d make it to the ceremony, but I’m secretly glad she didn’t. Her withdrawal symptoms are so bad, she shouldn’t be behind the wheel.
“Thank ya, Mama.” I squeeze her as tight as I dare without breakin’ her fragile bones. “I couldn’t have done it without ya.”
She pulls away and cups my face in her hands, her somewhat clear eyes watering. “Ain’t nothin’ I wouldn’t do for ya, my baby.”
“I know,” I choke out.
I never empathized with her so much.
That’s why I’m packin’ up what remains of my stuff in our old trailer.
“Ya just finished. I don’t understand why you’re leavin’ again. Ain’t ya got summer breaks no more?” Her voice is a whisper on a breeze of tears.
“We talked about this. Don’t ya remember?”
Her eyes flit back and forth as she combs through her brain for a memory that surely ain’t there. “No. Can ya tell me again?”
I sigh and turn back to packing all my old books. “I want ya to come with me to Bluefield.”
She laughs, but it only ends on a ragged-sounding cough. “Why would I up and do that?”
I raise an eyebrow as she lights another cigarette from her usual spot on the couch. “To get outta here?”
She furrows her brow and sucks in a deep lungful of false comfort. “I can’t do that, Jesse Michael.”
“Why?”
She glances around at the trailer, right back to the filthy state it used to be in before I was old enough to learn how to clean it as best I could. “There’s ghosts here I can’t bear to leave.”
I hang my head between my shoulders, a mix of shame, hurt, and a different sort of empathy swirling in my chest that makes it hard to draw a full breath. I kneel on the floor in front of her, hating how she exhales to the side like I’m not breathin’ in that crap every time she smokes in here. “Mama.” I pull her free hand into mine. “He wouldn’t want ya livin’ this way. He’d want ya to be happy and healthy and free of these chains you’ve bound yourself up in.”
“Ya never even met the man. How could ya possibly know all that?” She sees the truth written all over my face ‘cause there ain’t no possible way for me to hide it anymore. Her hand slaps my cheek without any real force. “Aww, boy. I tried to steer her clear of ya. I done told her you’d only break each other’s hearts.”
“She is my heart, Mama.”
She inhales then exhales right in my face. “And what’re ya gonna do when ya end up like me?”
I stand and pick
up my box, taking one last look around. There’s nothing else here to save. “She’s still alive. And she’s the reason I ain’t never gonna end up like ya. I love ya, Mama, but I love her, too.”
I’ve got one last stop to make before I head out of Martins Landing. Maybe for good.
I hand over a wad of cash and the teddy bear I bought as a graduation gift for someone who didn’t graduate.
“Where ya goin’?” he asks, his voice gruff as he studies the plush bear with brown fur and black eyes.
“Bluefield,” I tell him, gazing out over the same lookout where I made love to Nora so many times. “Got a job as an English teacher. It’s a good school district, so it’ll give me more experience on my resume when I apply for my principal certification. I gotta set up my classroom and get my schedule squared away for splittin’ my time between work and my master’s classes, but I’ll call ya when I get there, so you’ll have my new number.”
“You’re gonna work yourself into an early grave, boy.”
I meet his eyes. He’s already halfway there for the same reasons. “If this is the way things gotta be for now, then I ain’t gonna waste time by takin’ my time.”
He shakes his head. “You’re countin’ your chickens before they even done hatched.”
Every conversation is the same. He’s always testin’ my commitment.
“She found someone to take my place yet?”
“No,” he admits begrudgingly.
“Then I reckon my two chicks are countin’ on me to get on with it.”
“They ain’t yours yet,” he grumbles. “Ya know I’m gonna tell her this here bear’s from Pappy and Grammaw.”
“Don’t matter who it’s from so long as she gets it.” I don’t bother tellin’ him it’s for Nora. It’s a shitty consolation prize anyway.
He nods.
We stand with our arms propped on the bed of my rusty truck for a long while in silence.
“Been nearly two years of this song and dance. Ya found someone to take her place yet?” he finally asks.
A laugh that sounds a hell of a lot more like a sob catches in my chest. “Ain’t no woman in the world could ever take her place. Not for a night, not for a second. But I don’t think ya really wanna hear about how I feel when I’m lyin’ in your daughter’s arms.”
He sighs, deep and heavy. “No, I do not.”
“Well, it’s all I think about,” I admit, staring at the sun as it sinks toward the horizon.
Don’t Look a Gift Horse in the Mouth
“Mommy…” She’s so tired, she can’t even finish the question I know she’s dying to ask.
I kiss her forehead and snuggle her closer in my childhood bed that barely fits the two of us. Some nights, I honestly contemplate sleeping on the floor with Jesse. Even that would be more comfortable than getting kicked in the lady bits multiple times a night. “He’ll be here when he gets here, baby. It’s snowing real hard outside, so the roads are probably bad. I’m sure he’s just taking his time and being extra careful, so he can get back home to you in one piece. Go to sleep. When you wake up in the morning, Daddy will be home.”
I hope.
Reporting to the vice principal hasn’t been as much of a break as expected. He’s old, stuck in his ways, and not the best judge of pedagogical planning. I’m not sure he even knows what it is. He offers no suggestions, just non-constructive criticism that mostly centers around my lack of iron-fisted discipline with my students. The mood of the entire school seems to have shifted without Jesse’s larger-than-life presence in the halls. It hasn’t been a full year, but he’s already transformed Martins Landing High for the better, and the students miss him as much as I do. I don’t think any of us will take him for granted again after only a week of him being away.
If he makes it back to Martins Landing in one piece, I’ll be ecstatic just to argue with him in code again.
Anne’s breathing evens out, and her little body relaxes in my embrace. I test the waters by rolling over and lifting the quilt, pausing at the edge of the bed to see if she’ll wake.
She doesn’t, hallelujah.
As silently as possible, I tiptoe out to the sitting room where Mama and Daddy are still awake.
In the past few months, we’ve become a family bursting the seams of this tiny house. Everything feels off kilter without him here. They won’t admit it out loud any more than I will, but they’re keeping watch for his arrival, too.
Every few minutes Mama glances out the rattling front window at the wind-driven snow. “Maybe ya should go lookin’ for him, Leland.”
He nods even though he frowns. “Oh, I see how it is. You’re gonna speak to me again ‘cause you’re worried about another man ya ain’t speakin’ to. Makes perfect sense.”
She raises an eyebrow at him and purses her lips. “If ya want me to keep speakin’ to ya, ya better watch your tone when you’re speakin’ to me.”
I curl up in the corner of the couch and smile. I always knew my mama and daddy had a special kind of love even as a child, but I have a whole new appreciation for the intricacies of their relationship as an adult.
Daddy sighs. “Where am I supposed to go lookin’, Effie? He could be anywhere from here to Charleston. I don’t even know what route he was fixin’ to take.”
My anxiety ratchets up a notch. Daddy’s worried.
The eleven o’clock news ends, and the late show comes on. Still no Jesse.
When the late, late show begins, Daddy stretches his legs. “Might be I should go lookin’ for him.”
Just before he heaves himself off the loveseat where Mama’s curled around his arm, the front door flies open with a blast of wind.
“Shit,” Jesse mutters as he forces it closed.
“Jesse Michael Yates, watch your language,” Mama admonishes.
He startles and spins to face us with wide eyes. “Sorry, Mama.”
His immediate response is questioned as much as him coming here instead of going to his trailer. That is to say, it’s not. Not at all.
Nor does anyone question me jumping up to help him pull off his coat and take his briefcase. Except Jesse.
He studies me with plenty of questions in his eyes.
“Oh, don’t give me that look,” I excuse my behavior. “I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. The roads have to be horrible, and you said you’d be home hours ago. We figured you for dead as late as it is.”
He wraps his arms around me and kisses me firm on the lips even with Mama and Daddy watching. “I missed ya, too, darlin’.”
“Anne’s already asleep,” I babble as I unwind his scarf.
“I reckoned. I’m sorry I’m so late, but the roads are terrible, so I went real slow to avoid gettin’ into an accident.”
“That’s what I told her.”
Mama makes to rise. “Are ya hungry? Have ya eaten?”
He gestures for her to sit again. “I couldn’t eat even if Lenore made her famous chicken ‘n biscuits. I’m so dang tired.”
I follow as he stumbles into the living room then falls into a heap on the couch. I curl up in my same corner. “You should’ve stayed an extra night in Charleston. It’s not like this blizzard came out of nowhere. You could have killed yourself on the roads tonight.”
He rolls his head to barely glare at me. “I promised Anne I’d be home, so I’m home. I done been gone a week as it is.”
“I don’t even understand why ya had to go,” Daddy grumbles. His tone is gruff, but relief is clear in what he doesn’t say.
“I gotta go twice a year to the state principal’s conference. Part of the job.”
“I never knew a principal works so hard,” Mama murmurs.
Jesse’s eyebrows raise slightly, but other than that, his exhausted expression doesn’t change. He can’t even lift his head from the back of the couch. “Other than sleepin’ in a cheap motel for the week, conferences are the easy part.”
“What do ya do all day?” Mama asks in all earnestness.
I’m sitting here wondering why he thinks sleeping in a whole bed alone for a week is a bad thing.
“Every day’s different,” Jesse mumbles.
As late as it is, Daddy’s expression perks up. “What’s your worst day look like?”
“Uh,” Jesse sighs. “Let’s see…Last week, I walked in the buildin’ at 6:30 to find the sprinklers in the gym had been set off. We don’t got the funds for a video security system, but I assume it was kids messin’ around. Had to call the insurance company, call the superintendent, help the janitor clean up the mess. Could’ve been worse. Nothin’ was damaged—thank the Lord—‘cause we ain’t got room in the budget to replace anythin’, and I just know the basketball coach would be callin’ for my head if his games were in jeopardy.”
Daddy frowns. “That was your worst day as a principal?”
“That was just the first thing that went wrong.”
Daddy makes a get on with it motion.
Jesse’s expression shows vague confusion, but he indulges my daddy anyway. “After that, I got a call that one of the buses was broken down out on Silver Hollow. Had to arrange for a different bus to go pick up the kids. It made an elementary bus late, and I got a call from that buildin’ principal, tearin’ me up one side and down the other. I had to observe a teacher I can’t say a dang good thing about, but I can’t fire him neither ‘cause he has tenure and an in with the board. His students are so far behind on scores, it should be a crime. Even though he hates kids, he refuses to quit or retire.”
“Mr. Hanna?” I guess. That history teacher has a sordid history of his own.
Jesse barely nods. “I don’t even know why he became a teacher in the first place. No matter how I try to stroke his ego or offer suggestions to better not only his day but the students’, he don’t wanna hear it. I end up in his classroom twenty times a day ‘cause parents are constantly callin’ and complainin’ about the way he treats their kids. Then I had a student in a different class throw a textbook at his teacher ‘cause he didn’t understand the material. She had to go to the medical center. Ended up with a broken nose. That’s gonna cost us workers’ comp and a black mark on our record with the state, not to mention there ain’t no substitutes who wanna work in our district, so I’ll be teachin’ her class until further notice. The kicker is, I didn’t wanna call his parents ‘cause I know dang well he’s abused at home, and that’s the only reason he don’t know how to control his temper.”