Fight For It

by Jessie Harper

  I smile almost reflexively. Of course, Cassie has to get a dig in with her greeting. "I try to. It keeps things simpler."

  "Not true." Cassie leans in to plant a kiss on my cheek and I can see Doug straining to get a glimpse down the front of her shirt. Unfortunately, Cassie notices as well. "Who's your creepy little friend here?" she asks, frowning.

  "Cassie, this is Doug. I'm sure he's sorry about trying to get a look at your boobs."

  Doug has the good sense not to deny, but doesn't apologize either. Lucky for him Cassie has a high threshold for crap like that. Where another woman might react angrily, Cassie tends to get even in other ways.

  "I tell you what, Doug. Since I gave you a free show there, I think you owe us a round. Why don't you head over to the bar to get it and give me a minute with my boy here?”

  Doug's up before Cassie even finishes talking. "Um, sure. What can I get you? A cider? Pilsner?"

  Cassie snorts. "Seriously, Doug? Are you going to offer me a white wine spritzer? Bring me a pint of something dark. Skedaddle." She shoos him away with a dismissive motion of her hand. As he hurries off to the bar, she turns back to me. "Is that one really a pig or just an opportunist?"

  "A little bit of both, maybe?" I laugh. "Doug's a good guy, but he's not so smooth with the ladies, in case you couldn't tell."

  Cassie settles herself in Doug's vacated seat and reaches out for my pint glass. She takes a long swig of my beer and leans back. "Go ahead. Explain yourself."

  "Explain myself?"

  "Explain why you made what could only be seen as the world's boldest play for Julia and then just gave up. That is what you did, right? Do you have some other way of explaining it? Because if you do, I would love to hear it."

  I take a sip of my beer. "Julia told you that?"

  "Well, not exactly. But she told me about you two getting hot and heavy at the studio. Nice use of that padded floor, by the way." She winks. "And she told me you asked her out and she told you no because of that dumb ass Paul, and you basically left never to be heard from again."

  "I've been giving her space." I am fully aware of how weak that sounds.

  "Well, how much space are you planning on giving her because eventually all this space giving will start to feel like ignoring, you know. Unless that's what you were planning on doing." She steals my beer again. "Are you running for good or was that just a momentary freak out?"

  I pause. I'm not running for good, not from Julia, at least. But I've been running from my own issues for so long that even thinking about how that would look now is confusing. The churning in my stomach starts again.

  Cassie's patient, sipping on my beer and waiting for my answer. She lets me stew for a bit before starting again. "Look, I know it really isn't my business and Julia would kill me if she knew I was even talking to you about it, but I almost think that this makes you guys perfect for each other. Who better to understand having your heart pulled out and run up the flagpole than someone whose heart was decimated in the exact same way?"

  "Not exactly the same way."

  Cassie rolls her eyes. "It's close enough. Your wife was a terrible choice and Julia's husband turned out to be one too. Now you can both hold hands and get over it together."

  "Is that how you see this happening, Cassie? Julia and I wallowing in our misery together? Fixing each other through the magic of hand holding?"

  "Well, I was hoping there would be something more exciting than hand holding, but I'm not gonna push my personal preferences here. From what I've heard you're pretty good with more than just your hands." Cassie lifts one eyebrow and gives me the once over. If I were prone to blushing I would definitely be doing it now. "You could start with that, maybe. My point is, she likes you and you like her so having you both avoid each other seems kind of pointless right now."

  As I see Doug out of the corner of my eye, weaving back to us with three full pint glasses, I decide to ask Cassie the one other thing that's been making me hesitate. "What about Graham?"

  "Graham? Graham's only an issue if you decide he is. She loves Graham."

  My stomach plummets. There's the answer I've been dreading. Eventually she'll go back to Graham. She loves him and I would just be some diversion along her way back to happiness.

  "You should seriously see your face right now," Cassie informs me. "Come on, turn that frown upside down, idiot. She loves him because they have history. Julia's not in love with Graham. But he's going to be around so you'll need to get used to him. I've been told he grows on you."

  Beer sloshes all over the table as Doug triumphantly slams the glasses down in between us. "I got you a porter, but if you don't like that I'll trade you and drink that one. There's also a lager and a stout. So take your pick, Cassie. Short for Cassandra, amiright?" He sneaks another peek down the front of her shirt.

  Cassie regards Doug coolly. "No, it isn't," she answers, reaching for the porter and turning back to me. "Basically, Z, this is your wake-up call to pull your head out of your ass. You're welcome. Don't waste too much time getting your shit together or you'll have a real reason for a tear in your beer. I'm serious." Cassie turns to wave to a nearby table of girls. "My friends are here now, so I'll leave you two boys alone. Thanks for the beer, Doug. Don't even think about coming over to that table."

  As Cassie saunters away, Doug slides back into his chair. "She's kind of a bitch, don't you think?" he asks, watching her ass retreat to the far corner of the pub.

  "Yep, sometimes. But I think she has her reasons. Maybe instead of worrying about Amanda Nunes you should work on some real-life social skills."

  "Amanda would appreciate me." Doug reaches for his beer.

  "She'd appreciate kicking you in the head." I'm smiling a little now, but not because of Doug's potential concussion at the hands of Amanda. I'm seeing a glimmer of hope here, a sliver of possibility. There's a chance for me and Julia and I need to figure out how to take it.

  27

  Julia

  When I find the notice crumpled at the bottom of Charlie's backpack, my heart breaks a little. I'm still so disorganized with the boys and their school stuff that days can pass before I sign permission slips or see teacher notes. It doesn't help that I've given both kids the disorganization gene. Noah and Charlie seem to be predisposed to leaving trails of crumbs and lost mittens in their wake. I do my best, but sometimes things slip through the cracks. Take this invitation, for example, now a soggy, wadded up mess having been in the backpack for at least a week.

  DATE WITH DAD! The top line reads and I can't imagine a less fun activity for my boys to participate in at school. I remember seeing the event on the school calendar, but I must have pushed the unpleasant idea of two little fatherless boys enjoying their first time in the no dad club right out of my mind. I imagine Charlie stuffing the notice down deep into his school bag and tears spring to my eyes.

  I yell for Charlie and he almost skips into the kitchen. Noah trails behind him, carrying a handful of the Lego parts to the plane they've been trying to assemble in the living room. I make a mental note to watch where I step in there for the next few days. One sharp Lego under bare feet has brought me down before and my boys aren't great at picking up all those small pieces, obviously.

  "Hey, guys," I start, trying to sound cheerful. "I found this in Charlie's backpack." I hold up the bright green piece of paper, smoothing it out a bit. "Do you guys want me to ask Grandpa to go with you? It looks really fun."

  In reality, I'm not sure how fun the event would be, even with Paul. But there's going to be snacks and games along with a photo booth. If they want to go, then I'm going to work like hell to make that happen.

  "We don't need Grandpa," Noah announces.

  "Well, he'd be happy to go with you, I'm sure." I try to judge if the resistance is genuine or if he's just uncomfortable. "I think lots of other kids will have another relative with them." I'm careful to avoid the word "dad."

  "No, we don't need him," Noah tells me again, his face s
tern.

  "But I can ask him. Are you worried he won't be able to, or are you worried about not being there with your dad?" I scan their faces. "Because I think it will be fun with Grandpa. But if you feel weird about it, I won't make you go." I'm treading lightly, or trying to. I wouldn't want to push them into doing something that would be too hard, too soon.

  "No," Charlie chimes in with an exasperated sigh. "We don't need him because we worked it out ourselves already. We invited someone to go with us so we don't need Grandpa."

  They both nod and turn to get back to their Legos.

  "You invited someone to Date with Dad?" Who would they have asked and when would they have been able to do that without me knowing? I wrack my brain to think of possibilities but come up virtually empty. Unless my father is trying to give Graham a little nudge with the boys. Inside I groan. I’ve tried to make it perfectly clear to them that Graham and I will never be more than friends but I can't imagine the boys being able to orchestrate this on their own.

  "We asked Coach Z," Noah announces, "and he said he would do it."

  "He said he'd be 'stoked.' That's actually what he said," Charlie clarifies. "But he said we'd need to ask you first if it was okay. He said he'd talk to you."

  "Oh, he did, did he? When did you ask him?"

  "Just tonight at practice," Noah tells me. "It's going to be great!"

  I had avoided Zach tonight when I picked up the boys, basically popping my head in the door and shouting for them to get in the car. I've gotten pretty good at waiting until he's busy with someone else before I get anywhere near the studio. I'm barely giving him a chance to look at me, much less have a conversation.

  "I guess it would be great to go with Coach Z, but don't you think it would be better to go with Grandpa?" While I know the boys will have a great time with Zach, this is going to open things up again, force me to deal with the feelings I've been avoiding.

  "No offense," Charlie starts, looking sideways at Noah. "Grandpa is cool and all, but no one is as cool as Coach Z."

  "And everyone will be so jealous!" Noah crows. This earns him a jab in the ribs from Charlie and Legos go flying. As they scramble to pick them up, I consider my options. I can insist that they go with my dad and risk upsetting them or I can let them go with Zach and be upset myself. Not upset, really, because what do I have to be upset about? I'm the one who ended things with him before they even began. I'm the one who stopped things before I could get close enough to get hurt. If I can make it clear to him that this isn't the start of something bigger, then it will be fine.

  If I can convince myself of that then it will be even better.

  Because I've been dreaming about his hands and his lips and what they could do to certain parts of my body. Replaying all the things that they already have done and letting things go long past the chiming of the door and Abbey's interruption. My mind is already drifting to thoughts of Zach's body pressed against mine when my cell phone starts to vibrate and dance across the kitchen counter.

  Zach's name flashes across the screen and I pull my hand back like the phone is on fire. Naturally the universe would pick now to have him decide to call. Despite all my misgivings, my traitorous heart does a little back flip. But I know why he's calling and it isn't to ask me to come over and maul his mouth again. Which is what I want anyway—the talking that is, not the mauling. Or maybe just mauling and very little talking, according to my pounding heart and trembling fingers.

  I debate letting the call go to voicemail, but then I'll just put off the inevitable. I swipe to answer and wait for Zach's voice to fill my ear.

  "Hello? Hello? Julia?"

  Apparently trying to sound aloof results in me not saying anything after I answer the phone. Come on Julia! Pull yourself together.

  "I'm here!" I blurt out before he can hang up. "I dropped the phone for a second there. I'm here." I sound like I've run a marathon.

  "Oh, Julia, it's Zach. I didn't expect you to answer." He sounds as flustered as I do, which makes my stomach flutter. I put my hand on my belly to force the butterflies away.

  "Why wouldn't I answer?" I ask, already knowing his response.

  "Maybe because you've been avoiding me. I'm guessing that either you didn't see who was calling or you've already erased my number from your contacts." I can almost hear his shoulders slump.

  "I saw it was you. The boys and I were just talking about you." Charlie and Noah abandon their Lego search and look up at me expectantly. I know that the smart thing here is to say no to their plan, but I find myself sucked in by those little faces. I want them to have things to look forward to and if it means I have to see Zach for ten minutes then I can deal with it. I mentally put on my big girl panties and keep going. "They were telling me they invited you to something at school on Friday."

  "Yeah, and before you say no, I just want to tell you that this isn't some pathetic attempt to see you again. I mean, there's a little bit of that, but the majority of this is that I like your kids and I'd love to go with them to this, um, thing, if they want me to." I notice that Zach avoids using the word "dad," too. "And my Fridays are free now, so there's that."

  "Ouch." The word is out before I can stop myself.

  "Sorry," he apologizes. "That was a low blow. If you're okay with me going with Charlie and Noah on Friday I am more than on board. No strings attached."

  "Okay."

  "But think about it this way... wait, did you just say 'okay'? Just like that?"

  I can hardly believe it either, but I answer like it was the easiest thing ever. Like I always let my sons go to a dadcentric event with the object of my lustful fantasies.

  "Just like that. Did they tell you times and everything?" See? I can relax. I can talk on the phone without thinking about anything sexual concerning Zach. It's like we're setting up a playdate or a business meeting.

  "They told me the basics. Starts at three after school and goes until five. I thought I would just drop them at your place after so you don't have to drive to the elementary school to pick them up. If that's okay, of course. If you want to come and get them yourself I can wait with them until you get there."

  "Well, I guess you can bring them here, if you don't mind." Instantly, I regret this. In trying to seem reasonable I have accidentally invited Zach over, basically giving him permission to have a face-to-face conversation. Even worse, through the magic of cellular phone service I can actually hear the smile start to spread across his face. And now I'm picturing those lips again, feeling them moving along my collarbone.

  As if sensing I'm about to change my mind, Zach clips out a fast, "Okay then, see you Friday." And hangs up. I stand, holding the phone against my ear as the two most important people in my life look up at me with pleading eyes.

  "Did you say yes?" Noah whispers.

  "I said yes."

  Grins overtake their faces.

  I said yes. Let's hope I don't regret it.

  28

  Zach

  I wasn't kidding when I told Julia I would take her boys no strings attached. I would have taken them even if she had said she would never see me again. When Charlie and Noah came up to me after practice with the crumpled invitation, there was no way I was going to say no. They had rehearsed their speech down to the hand gestures, Charlie doing most of the talking but Noah adding comic relief. Granted, he did it accidentally, but his mimicking of Charlie's posture and tone only made the presentation that much more effective.

  "How many chances are you going to have to go to Date with Dad? Maybe other kids have asked you, but if you go with us you get two for the price of one," Charlie had begun.

  "Two! Not just one!" Noah had chimed in helpfully, earning a bit of the side eye from his older brother.

  That was a pretty good deal. How could I say no to that offer? The easy answer is that I couldn’t—Julia or no Julia. The truth is they're good kids. They're kind and thoughtful and unselfish in a way some of the other kids that come through my studio doors aren't.
I know I'm not supposed to have favorites, but it isn't hard to see the differences in kids. Some are spoiled and entitled in a way Charlie and Noah never are. Whatever Julia's been doing with them, she's doing something right. She's got two great boys and the fact that their father isn't here to help raise them shouldn't keep them from experiencing things. If that means me subbing for their dad at a school event then I'm more than okay with it.

  But I'm not an idiot. I know that showing up to an event aimed to be quality time with your dad with someone else's children is just asking for trouble. Even if the staff at the elementary school knows me, I'm not Charlie and Noah's father. Not even close. What am I? One of their teachers? Some guy who used to be friends with their mother but managed to screw things up? Charlie and Noah have family here and any number of those guys would have been happy to take them, Hell, for all I know this is Graham's usual territory and I've just stepped on his toes. There are bound to be looks and questions, especially since Julia and I aren't a couple. This is a perfect opportunity for people to misunderstand. I've prepared myself, but I'm not sure how Noah and Charlie will react to any probing questions.

  In the end I'm worried for nothing.

  No one makes a peep about how I'm connected to the boys. There isn't really even time for that between the obstacle course and the scavenger hunt, the make-your-own-cupcake station and the photo booth. We spend the entire two hours at a full run and I'm relieved to be able to keep up. Some of the other adults are having trouble, but there are obvious benefits to how I'm living my life versus my previous incarnation as an office drone. There are the usual suspects there: dads leaving in the Bluetooth while they pretended to listen to their kids, other guys trying to leave after only managing one part of the event. Those are the kinds of things I won't ever be able to understand. Not being a parent myself maybe I have on blinders or something, but it wouldn't have killed a few of those dads to try a little harder for two hours.