by Lexie Ray
Just as she reached a particular steamy scene – not full of lust, but of pure, unadulterated love – Rachel walked in with Lucas. They had returned. The boy looked the same, only a little less scrunched over. He walked in proudly, and most peculiarly, with a smile on his face.
Rather than saunter over to his mother with his newfound pride, likely due to her increasing busyness, he and Rachel both made their way to Haley’s table. “Hey, honey! You look like you feel better!” she exclaimed, before standing and pulling him into an eager hug.
“Ow!” he called with a slight laugh. Obviously she hadn’t hurt him too critically. “I do feel better. They gave me a few pain relievers. I have a couple of cracked ribs, so I have a slinky brace thing around me.”
“They broke a couple of ribs?” she asked in horror. How could she have not known that? She was carting him all over the place, through hell and high water, and he had broken ribs!
“Fractured, but on the bright side, I took pics of myself in the office with the brace and sent it to a girl I like and she is really worried about me and says I look cute with my shirt off,” he responded, smiling like a goof.
“Too much information,” Haley scoffed in jest. She tried to feign her best disgusted voice, but in a way that he knew she was joking. She didn’t want to hurt his self-esteem. He smiled.
“So, who is this girl anyway?” she asked. She wanted to lighten the mood before telling him they were going to the school with the matter. She also wanted to know. She missed him. It had been days since she had been around him – that was the longest she had ever been without him. So she needed to feel connected in his life.
Rachel stood behind him for only a moment before sinking into the chair across from Haley, obviously ready to sit down. She had been working all day, and then placed in charge of auntie duties. Haley knew she had to have been exhausted.
“Her name is Katlynn – and she’s so great. She’s the prettiest girl in my grade, and what’s better is she’s also the nicest,” he said with a strong bout of enthusiasm. “There’s only one problem…”
“What’s that, sweetie?” Haley asked, taking a sip of her coffee. Oh, to be young. There were no problems with junior high romances; she loved the innocence he possessed. She wished it could stay forever. Although he had just been beaten by a pulp, he was still happy – and talking about a girl. She hated that those days were long behind her.
“She’s Darren’s sister…” he sighed, sinking down beside his aunt to face Haley.
“The boy that beat you up?” Haley nearly choked on her coffee. She was glad to finally have some. She had stopped downtown earlier in the day to get her caffeine fix, but when she saw Lucas being chased she set aside the need for the fix. She was finally satiating the craving – only to choke on it now. He nodded, and she cringed. She didn’t really know how to respond to that.
“We’ll be sure to tell your mom that one,” she said, knowing what Marissa’s reaction would have been.
“She already knows. She didn’t say anything about it,” he responded with an almost girlish giggle.
She was surprised she hadn’t said anything about it, because as far as Marissa was concerned, Darren’s entire family could go to hell. Not because she thought that Preston wanted Darren’s mother, not like she even cared one way or another. But because they had raised a boy as mean as Darren. Because her son had been hurt. She could understand where that sort of thinking came from, but she didn’t really agree with it necessarily.
She didn’t condone bullying, and she did believe there was something the parents could do to cease and desist the situation, but she didn’t think they had intentionally raised a bully. No one did; at least, she hoped. Obviously their parenting styles weren’t all bad, considering Lucas had just spoken so highly of the daughter – Darren’s sister.
But she also knew Marissa well enough to know what her reaction to such an argument would be. She would merely write it off as being Lucas’s infatuation talking. Marissa was not an unreasonable or close-minded woman by any means. Proof of that was the fact that Haley was even in her bakery, speaking to her son, but she did have a bit of a Mother Bear complex.
Despite having a nanny raise – or at least, that’s the word onlookers may have used to describe Haley’s job – her children, Marissa had always had explicit instructions on how her children would be cared for. She was overbearing, overprotective, and overall – a Mother Bear. She would claw the eyes of anyone to which breathed a word of harmful voicing towards her children. She would rip them to shreds. Piece by piece. Haley knew Marissa.
When she first started nannying for the Lancer’s, when Lucas was a mere newborn cub, there was a routine, a schedule – including a very precise call-in time that must have been abided by at all times. Haley remembered one time that she was late calling in, and Marissa had already left work in pursuit of her.
She found out because the phone went to voicemail and five minutes later the door came crashing open with a very angry and deranged mother storming after her. It was quite terrifying, actually. She had to admire it, though.
Onlookers could take a fucking flying leap, for all Haley was concerned. She had heard comments upon comments from stay-at-home mothers regarding Marissa’s parenting style. Albeit, Haley always agreed partially with the women regarding the disagreeable hours Marissa and Preston both worked. She did feel that they missed out on a lot in regards to their children.
They weren’t there as much as they should have been, but Haley also knew that Marissa wanted to be. She had a business, and she wasn’t the stay-at-home mothering type. To her, there was nothing wrong with it. She would have gone stir crazy being in the house. Some women have the strength to do it, others don’t. Marissa was definitely the latter. But she held a strength of her own.
She was sweet in demeanor, but a powerful, fearful woman in practice. She owned, managed, and worked in her own business. She was a busy woman and a provider for her kids. She was smart, and in all honesty, a great role model for her daughter. She was the essence of a strong female. Especially during a time like this.
Her composure hadn’t faltered, and where most women – Haley for instance – would have beat the ever-living shit out of the whore that fucked her husband given the chance, Marissa was treating her with respect and gratitude.
She respected the woman, and she did understand the point of view of other women. Yes, Marissa was overly busy at times, and yes, she could have been around more often, but the woman loved her children. Sometimes it seemed as though she loved them too much, or at the very least, too impractically. That was Haley’s main issue with her parenting. It wasn’t that she was busy; it was that she was too overprotective.
If the kids came home with a scratch, Marissa worried. The thing about her that she admired though, despite the insanity of Mother Bear, was her composure through her panic. Haley couldn’t understand why when Lucas came home the day she blew the horn on the affair, that Marissa hadn’t really been as frantic as she, herself, would have been. She was definitely panicked, sure, but she was nowhere near as panicked as Haley imagined herself being.
Haley admired Marissa’s equanimity, yes, definitely so – but after today’s incident, she had lost it completely. During their talk, she had talked about extreme measures to rid her son of the “foul bullies,” as she so eloquently put it.
She was lost in her thoughts completely before she felt a wave of air waft over her face. Shaking from her stupor, she noticed Lucas flailing his arms, waving them directly in front of her face. “Earth to Haley – I asked you a question,” he said in a dramatic and exasperated tone. Rachel laughed with a rather tired lackluster enthusiasm, seemingly almost half-asleep. “I asked if you thought Mom is really mad that I like Katylnn because she hasn’t said anything.”
“Honey, she would never be mad at you for liking someone. She may be mad at the situation – and not really mad, per se – she just won’t know what to do about the matter at
hand,” she replied, gaining her consciousness again. She looked up from the table and noticed that the crowd had died down, and Joseph was now manning the register counter, wiping it down while Marissa walked towards them.
Rachel rehashed the conversation she had with the doctor to the best of her tired abilities, and Marissa nearly fainted when she heard the news about his ribs. The kids had never had damage to their bones, and she was likely reeling with anger and panic.
“Don’t start, Marissa. You’re not going to be a worry-wort. The doctor said he’s fine. He just needs to refrain from sports for a little bit, and take it a little easy. Ribs heal. His face will heal. It will all be fine,” Rachel ranted, her head finding itself facedown into the tabletop surface. She was about to die of exhaustion by the sounds of it.
“Good God. Go home,” Marissa said as she rolled her eyes with annoyance. “Oh, but first – Lucas, go hang out with Joseph for a moment.”
Lucas knew what that meant. He wasn’t stupid, and he wasn’t five. He knew when his mother said to go elsewhere, it was because she was about to unleash information that his young ears didn’t need to hear. Haley had a suspicion of what it might be, and that suspicion was proven to be the truth when Marissa went on about Lucas’s story regarding Preston’s alleged unsavory behavior.
As if given a shot of caffeine, or even crack for that matter, Rachel shot up and looked to Marissa wide-eyed. She acted as though she couldn’t believe it, but there was another – a more suspicious – look lurking from within, hidden from those who didn’t quite know the young woman.
~~~
Marissa knew by her reaction that there was something Rachel wasn’t saying to her. There was something she wasn’t telling her. She wanted to know what it was, but she knew that the situation was delicate. Otherwise, knowing Rachel, she would have spilled the beans by now. She never could keep a secret. She was horrible at it.
There was guilt lurking behind her almost mirror image’s eyes. There was definitely a lot of guilt. Guilt for what, she didn’t know, but she sure as hell wanted to. “What is it?” Marissa asked, only for Rachel to respond with her forehead knocking dramatically – but lightly – onto the table below.
Haley’s eyes widened and brows twisted. It was obvious she thought Rachel was nuts, but Marissa paid no mind. She wanted to know what was going on. “Spill it, Rachel. Spill it, now. Something is happening here – you went from tired beyond belief to banging your head on the table with guilty looks all over your face.”
Rachel leaned forward on the table and sighed. “You always know when I’m trying to hide things, and I hate that about you. I didn’t want to tell you…” she started, only for her voice to catch in her throat, and an audible croak leaked out. “It’s about me and Preston…”
Marissa and Haley looked on in disbelief. What was she going to say? Marissa shook her head, trying with all her might to not jump to conclusions. She wanted to give her sister the benefit of the doubt. She was her sister. She would hope – through all of this – that Rachel would be the one person not to betray her to that degree.
“Don’t misunderstand me. Nothing happened,” Rachel said, easing Marissa – and from the looks of the sigh of relief, Haley as well. “He tried to have sex with me. It was a long time ago; I was young, he was young – we had a lot to drink. I thought it was a one-time mistake.” She was choked up with regret.
“He kissed me, and I didn’t hate it – but stopped it after I... kissed him back. I wanted him. And I wanted him badly...” Marissa couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “I told him we couldn’t do it and I wouldn’t. He left it at that after apologizing, but then later as we continued to drink, I felt him still making advances.” Marissa cringed at Rachel’s words. She didn’t even know how to respond to this story. “He grabbed me and said he wanted me, but I told him ‘no’ and that was that. He didn’t try anymore and we never spoke of it again. I thought it was a one-time thing between drunken idiots,” she finished, sobbing.
Marissa’s mind wandered. Had he been unfaithful the entire time? “When did this happen?” she asked, her voice full of concern. Rachel looked up at her and sighed, “…About a year after you got married.”
Haley looked on in shock, and Marissa read her expressions. They were odd. They were hard to gauge. She wondered how upset the woman was. Yes, she was still angry with Haley – but she knew Haley wouldn’t have done what she had done if she hadn’t felt something intense for Preston. She almost felt sorry for her. Almost.
Chapter 8
Marissa and Haley felt like agents in an action film as they power-walked across the parking lot of the school. They were on a mission, and they weren’t going to stop until it was clear that something would be done about Lucas’s bully situation.
Haley reached the quadruple glass doors of the front of the school first and pulled one of them open for Marissa to enter and lead the way. She accepted the invitation Haley had so graciously offered, and walked in with purpose and pure determination. The staff knew it, too. Immediately one of the ladies – a heavyset dark-skinned, salt and pepper haired woman with ruby red glasses that rested atop the curve of her nose – recognized the two. “Is everything OK, Mrs. Lancer?”
“No, Patrice. It isn’t. May I speak with Mr. Palmer?” Marissa replied quickly, and a little harsher than she had meant to, Haley was sure. The woman’s expression went from a confused worry to pure worry. She turned around, her girth swinging about as she – quite surprisingly – quickly, with an astounding vigor, disappeared into a small hallway of rooms behind the office’s central hub. Haley knew she was heading towards the principal’s office.
Within seconds the two appeared side by side out of the hallway. “Come on in, Marissa. The two of you here must mean something serious.” He spoke with a resounding authority, his intellect resonating with every word, an accent of the British nature. He was older – early 60’s or so – with salt and peppered hair and a goatee.
He wore brown trousers, a blue oxford shirt, and a brown cardigan. He was the epitome of a British gentleman. It was in his attire, it was in his voice, it was in his demeanor, and it was definitely in the way that he walked the women back to his office.
He was kind and courteous, and Haley had always enjoyed dealing with him in the past. She only hoped that this particular meeting would go as well as past meetings had. “What can I do for you ladies?” he asked with a slight smile. He wanted to seem kind, but he also knew there was a problem; she could tell. It was written all over his behavior – she knew he was trying to tread lightly.
He gestured for the two ladies to sit in the two chairs on the other side of the desk and waited for them to sit before he did. “It’s about Lucas. He’s been having trouble here,” Marissa replied as she sat down in her respective chair, gently.
“I’m aware,” Mr. Palmer began, “He’s been missing a lot of class lately. It isn’t really like him, but he’s becoming a teenager and they rebel a bit. We need to find a way to keep him in class, but it is best not to worry too much.”
“Well, it has to do with his missing class, but it isn’t because he’s ‘becoming a teenager,’ as you say. It’s about something else,” she replied, not satisfied with his jumping-to-conclusions attitude.
“Oh?” he asked, shifting his chair uncomfortably.
“Oh! He’s been bullied by some other students.” Her responses were becoming more heated. And Haley watched as his eyes widened for a moment only to narrow again a moment later, his brow furrowing.
“He told you this?” the man asked, leaning forward in his desk chair, his eyes still narrowed.
“He didn’t have to,” she retorted, her fire seeming to fuel. “His broken ribs and deformed face told the story quite elegantly, actually!”
“I can assure you that did not happen here!” the man retorted, and his hand had seemed to involuntarily hit the desk below. His own fire seemed to be fueled as well. Haley wasn’t sure where the behavior he had just p
resented had come from, and she was surprised to say the least – but she only could wonder who would win this battle of wits.
“It didn’t, you’re right. But it involved your students. He has been hurt off campus by students here following him home,” she replied, not phased at all by his demeanor. She leaned back in her chair, as if to give an impression of calm and collection, though Haley knew the woman was far from it.
“I can’t technically do anything if it doesn’t happen on school property,” he said with a sigh. And although it had meant to be a sigh of disappointment, it sounded more – to Haley at least – to be a sigh of relief.
“They’re your students. He met them here. He sees them here. They taunt him here –” she started to argue, but he silenced her quickly with his hand, before speaking again.
“We may be able to write them up for the taunting, but not the violence. It didn’t happen here.” He became calm once again. Haley was sure he thought he had won, but she knew otherwise. She merely sat back in her own chair and watched the scene continue to unfold.
“That’s not good enough. I wish to have a meeting with the parents and work out some sort of disciplinary action,” she said with finality.
“We can arrange a meeting with the parents, I’m sure. But we can’t do anything disciplinary ourselves. That will have to be up to the parents to conduct,” he replied.
“That’s not good enough.” Marissa crossed her arms as she spoke. She wasn’t backing down.
“It’s policy, Mrs. Lancer,” he said, with what seemed like little interest in the matter, “I’m sorry. Truly, I am. Who is the child anyway?”
“Darren Cohen,” she said flatly.
“Darren Cohen? That young man is top of his class… his parents are outstanding people. ” He laughed, and Haley wanted to slap him herself. How dare he? She didn’t care if he was the president’s son. It was what it was, and Darren Cohen was a bully. Nothing else mattered. Who cared if he was “top of his class,” – it didn’t mean he wasn’t a douchebag devil child.