The Five Stages of Falling in Love

by Rachel Higginson

  “You’re the one with the pool?”

  He winced again. “Is everyone going to hold that against me?”

  I looked down at my kids and thought yes inside my head, but I let my sister throw out a flirty, “Only until you redeem yourself.”

  “Hey,” he joked, “my Pop-Tarts saved the day this morning.”

  I resented that on principle. “I would have gotten her out eventually.”

  He shot me an indulgent smile. “Sure.”

  “Sure?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Mommy, I want a Pop-Tart!” Lucy squealed.

  “Pop-Tart!” Jace echoed.

  I bit back a tired sigh. “Can I have just twenty more minutes, Em? I promise I’ll be fast.”

  “Twenty,” she said firmly. “Then I have to go. My study group will kill me if I’m late again.”

  “Twenty, I promise.” I gave Jace a sloppy kiss on his cheek and passed him back to my sister. I told Lucy to wait with her Aunt Emma while I took off for the house again.

  I left my kids and sister to chat with my new neighbor in hopes that they could repair some of the damage I’d created with just two interactions.

  Part of me felt extremely sorry for Ben for having to put up with me. I didn’t know what had come over me. Sure, grief and depression ruled most of my moods these days, but I at least tried to put on a show for the rest of the world. I’d managed to stay polite and cordial to almost everyone else in my life, except for a select few, and those people had deserved every last bit of my ire.

  Ben Tyler didn’t deserve ire or anger or bitchiness or anything else unpleasant. He had been nothing but nice since we crashed his pool and his morning. Still, there was something about him that just bothered me.

  I snuck a peek through the frosted paned glass in my front door once I’d slipped inside. Emma laughed hysterically at something Ben said and he seemed absolutely captivated by her smile.

  I wanted to be happy they had hit it off. I should be grateful she could represent my family with her own kind of charm, but I wasn’t. Irritation and frustration bubbled inside my stomach and spread out through my arms and legs hotly. I didn’t understand all this animosity for a man I’d just met.

  And I hated that I let it get to me and affect what could be a perfectly comfortable relationship as neighbors.

  Emma was still smiling when they said goodbye to Ben at the mailbox and turned back to the house. He watched her walk away from him, holding a letter absently in between his long fingers. I couldn’t help but laugh a little as he clearly checked out her obviously swaying ass.

  My sister, the hottie with the body.

  But then his eyes flicked up to the house and I realized I had been standing there spying on them. I jumped away from the window and sprinted up the stairs. I now had only fifteen minutes to get through my shower and do something manageable with my shoulder length hair. I couldn’t let Emma down again.

  She did so much for me. Allowing her to get to her study group on time was the very least I could do. Besides, I desperately needed a shower. I needed to wash away the sweat and grime from my run and the weirdness and angsty feelings Ben Tyler seemed to bring out of me.

  I tried to convince myself that having a neighbor in that house would be a good thing. He’d offered help and I knew without a doubt at some point in the future, hopefully far future, I would need it. I needed too much these days.

  I just hoped by the time I had to ask him for it, I could get over whatever hostility I felt for him and could treat him with the grownup respect I should naturally have.

  Or, at least not snarl every time I got within six feet of him.

  Chapter Four

  I finished buckling Jace in his five-point harness and pointed a finger at Lucy. “Stop screaming.”

  She didn’t.

  I pushed my hair out of my face and let out a frustrated sigh. We were late. Again. Only this time it was worse than usual.

  I shoved Jace’s blanket at him and wiped some of his tears away with it before hitting the button to close the door on my super-sleek minivan. I threw myself into the front seat and jammed my seatbelt into place.

  The two kids screamed out their protests in a serious show of inflexibility and willpower. My head pounded with a nasty headache and my stomach churned with the task ahead of me.

  I rushed out of the garage, careful of the side mirrors, and down the long, slanted driveway. Once on the street, I shoved the gearshift into drive and the engine gave a jolt of protest.

  I didn’t have time to care. And I really didn’t have time to pacify my screaming children. With my eyes on the road, I pushed the right buttons and breathed a slow sigh of relief when I heard the screen slide into place behind me. The movie I’d listened to for approximately seventy-seven days straight turned on and the banshee shrieking died down.

  I gave my new neighbor’s house an assessing glance before focusing on getting out of the neighborhood. I hadn’t seen Ben Tyler in almost a week, not since I’d returned his towels. He’d kept to himself after the day we met and I’d been too busy to notice. Over the weekend I thought we might run into each other, but he hadn’t made an appearance and I decided to be thankful I didn’t get another opportunity to make a jackass of myself.

  The drive to the elementary school only took fifteen minutes, but we were already fifteen minutes late. I was supposed to be there right now.

  Shit.

  I had a meeting with the school counselor. I was sure she expected me to be late, but that didn’t make me any less stressed. I hadn’t been the best about getting places on time before Grady died. Now that I had no help getting out of the house or into the car, my punctuality had become a joke.

  I sometimes tried to analyze why it was so much harder now than it was before. Even when Grady was alive, he hadn’t helped me get the kids to school. He had to leave for work almost an hour before the kids got up. And I always picked them up by myself too.

  Somehow the absence of his normal absence made everything worse and my occasional-tardiness had evolved into a perpetual inability to arrive anywhere on time.

  Even though Grady hadn’t helped me before, everything was just harder now. It didn’t matter what. Putting mascara on felt a thousand times more difficult than it ever had, or getting dressed, or hell, even getting up. I just couldn’t manage the way I used to.

  I kept waiting for the day everything would snap back into place for me. Sure, there were things that would always be hard, always require more effort on my part without my husband by my side. But getting out of the house or up in the morning or those small things that had been mine in the first place should just happen like they always had.

  Why did Grady’s death spread to every aspect of my life? Why couldn’t some things remain untouched by grief?

  By the time I slammed on the brakes and shut the engine off in front of the elementary school, my two little ones had stopped sniffling and fighting their seatbelts. Two actual seconds of blissful silence passed before Lucy started fighting her restraints and Jace began crying again.

  The end of school coincided with the end of his nap. The temper tantrum was something I was used to, but that didn’t make it any easier.

  I grabbed my purse, stuffed with diapers and wipes, double-checked that I put my keys and phone in there, then wrestled Jace from his seat. I got Lucy out next, with one hand while Jace sobbed loudly onto my blouse.

  It was black, which hopefully hid the wetness, but could never disguise the snot I knew he left behind.

  The door closed with excruciating slowness. I locked the van with the push of my thumb and hauled the children with me into the school building.

  School would get out in ten minutes. The counselor had wanted thirty minutes with me, but she would have to settle for seven. I felt near tears by the time I shoved the office door open and stepped inside the frigid place.

  The line of secretaries looked up at me with knowing, sympathetic smiles. I avoided the
pity in their eyes and shuffled to the desk.

  “I have a meeting with Ms. Conway,” I told them.

  The closest secretary slid the sign-in sheet toward me and handed over a pen. “She’s waiting for you. You can go right in.”

  I finished filling in the necessary information and turned to the appropriate door. I tugged Lucy along with me and readjusted Jace in my arms. I flashed an apologetic smile at Ms. Conway and hoped I could charm her out of thinking I was the worst single parent alive.

  No luck.

  “Hi, Liz, how are you?”

  “Fine.” I grabbed the back of Lucy’s collar before she could make a bee-line for the breakable animal figurines lining Conway’s desk. Harriet Conway was ten years older than me and had been single her entire life. I hadn’t heard of a man that had ever been able to pass her impossible standards for more than the first date. She had intimidated me before, but now, now that I was a useless parent, drowning in a sea of impossible expectations, she terrified me.

  I often gave myself the I’m-a-grownup-too speech. The one where I tried to convince myself that I was her equal in all things and that she had no authority over me, only my children. I swore to myself there was no need to fear her because honestly, what could she do to me?

  But every time I stood in front of her, I felt myself shrink back and cower. I couldn’t help it. Maybe if I’d felt like I was doing something right, or could get the kids to school just once on time, I’d have felt like I could stand on my own two feet. But that wasn’t the case.

  Instead, she seemed to reflect all my failures back at me and demand more of me as a parent than I knew I could give.

  “Have a seat.” She gestured to the dated orange chairs in front of her desk and I obliged. I set Lucy up and reminded her to be quiet and then I made a sniffling Jace comfortable on my lap.

  She waited patiently for us to get situated. “Sorry we’re late,” I told her.

  She gave me a tight smile. “That’s one of the reasons I called you in today. I know that it’s hard for you now, but Abby and Blake have been late more times than they’ve been on time this year. We’re not even through the first quarter, Liz. I’ve tried to give your family grace while you adjust to your new situation, but I can’t let this go on without speaking up. Both Blake and Abby are the ones suffering from their tardiness. They rush into class and disturb the teaching already in progress and its encouraging bad habits. I know you are going through a rough time right now, but I think finding some consistent routine would be good for all of you.”

  I swallowed back tears, mild rage and a whole lot of indignity. My new situation? A rough time? This woman had no idea. She had no idea what it was like to lose the love of her life, let alone manage to get herself and four kids ready and out the door at a reasonable time.

  If I didn’t think my kids would never learn to read, I would have withdrawn them today and homeschooled them. Then we’d never have to get out of our pjs.

  Except her words weren’t just infuriating and hurtful, they were also true. They were like daggers in all my weak places. And they screamed arguments alongside everything I already knew.

  “We’re trying.” I hated the tremble in my voice. I hated falling back on this again. My grief and our loss didn’t mean anything to her and I honestly couldn’t expect them to. “We’re working very hard to find our rhythm; it’s just been hard.”

  Her face softened with compassion. “I understand that. But I can’t continue to turn a blind eye. The kids need to be here on time.”

  I nodded. “Alright. We’ll try harder.”

  She offered me another strained smile. I didn’t think she believed me.

  The explosion of children’s voices reached us through the open office door. I let out a slow sigh of relief. School was out; this meeting had to be over now.

  Ms. Conway glanced at her door and back at me. “There’s something else.”

  I gulped.

  “Yes?”

  “Abby has been acting up again.”

  The words hit me hard. I couldn’t even respond to them. Frustrated tears welled in my bottom lashes and I willed myself not to break down in front of this lady. I could hold it together. I could hold it together for just five more minutes.

  “She’s been very talkative,” Conway went on after it was obvious I wasn’t going to speak up. “She’s been caught bullying some of the boys on the playground at recess. And we suspect that she’s stealing erasers.”

  “Erasers?” My surprise gave me the ability to speak through my emotion.

  “White board erasers,” Ms. Conway clarified.

  Oh, Jesus. “You think Abby’s stealing white board erasers?” Mouthy, talkative, bullying, yes, fine. All those things applied to Abby lately. But stealing? Erasers? That just didn’t make sense.

  Not that I didn’t think she was capable of it… But really?

  “We don’t have proof that it’s her yet. It’s just a feeling that her teacher, Mr. Hoya has. He wanted a parent-teacher conference with you, but I said I would speak with you first. I told him you would talk to Abby.”

  “I will,” I assured her. “I’ll talk to her.”

  “And try to be on time?”

  I swallowed back the bitter pill of needing to humble myself in front of this woman I didn’t even like. Humility was never a strong characteristic of mine, but I knew that I was in the wrong here, which made it worse.

  “Yes, and we’ll make a better effort to get here on time.”

  She smiled patiently at me. “I make you promise to be on time, but then I’ve made you late to pick up the kids. How thoughtless of me.”

  I didn’t say anything. By now Lucy’s fidgeting had gotten out of control and Jace had finally woken up and grown curious. Sleepy Jace was easy to take places. Curious Jace was about as nightmarish as any two-year-old in a space with breakable objects could be.

  “Thank you, Ms. Conway,” I said on my way to my feet. “If there are any more problems, please don’t hesitate to call.”

  “I’m sure we’ll speak again soon,” she replied evenly.

  Meaning she expected more problems, many more problems.

  I held it together as I made my escape from her office and the main office. I held it together while I dragged Lucy alongside me and balanced Jace and my purse on the other arm. I held it together long enough to pick up Abby and Blake from their teachers and classes standing in clumps along the school sidewalk. I held it together while I shoveled kids and backpacks in the car and buckled car seats and checked the older kids’ seatbelts. I held it together as I waved to other moms picking up their kids and while I waited in line to exit the lot.

  I held it together for approximately five more minutes as I struggled to keep the van on the road while my mind spun and spun and my heart felt crushed inside my chest.

  Finally, I had to pull over. The tears had started to fall in messy, blinding buckets and I knew it was too dangerous to continue. I found a McDonalds parking lot and slammed into an empty space in the corner of the lot. I threw the gearshift into park and dropped my forehead to the steering wheel.

  I could hear the kids cry out for me from the back, but my grief had consumed me by now. I was useless. I was an empty shell. I was pathetic and helpless and so utterly lost I didn’t even know where to go.

  The thought of getting my kids to school on time felt impossible. Dealing with Abby felt even worse. How could I get through to my little girl who had lost her hero? Her daddy? Her partner in crime? I knew I needed to do a better job with her, but I didn’t know how!

  It felt unfair of them to expect so much of me. Didn’t they know how much I hurt? Didn’t they know that it took everything I had to get up in the morning and face the day?

  This pain inside me drowned me; it tore at me every second of every day until I thought I would shatter into a million worthless pieces just from the sheer pressure of it.

  I couldn’t do this.

  I couldn’t.


  And I didn’t know what to do about that because there was no one else to shoulder this impossible burden with me.

  I was alone. And I had never been this alone before.

  I just didn’t know what to do.

  Little hands landed on my arms and wrapped around my neck from behind. I felt hot tears drip from my two older children and land on my shoulders and neck. I immediately unbuckled and spun around in my seat to catch them.

  Abby and Blake fell on top of me, tangling in each other and me. We sobbed together, sharing the anguish and the confusion of what our lives had become.

  I felt the pain more acutely as they clutched me, the one person they were supposed to be able to count on, but the one person that was letting them down in every way. At the same time I felt the pressure on my heart intensify. I also felt the comfort that came with their unconditional love and understanding.

  I soaked up their hugs and tears because they were the only other people on this planet that had any kind of idea what I was going through. They were the only other people that knew how much we’d lost when their daddy died.

  They might be the source of some of my current problems, but they were also the only reason I had to keep going. They were my lifelines. My hope. My reason for breathing.

  “I love you guys,” I told them through a broken whisper. They whimpered and mumbled back the same sentiment.

  “Why did school make you cry, Mom?” Blake blinked up at me with his extra-bright green eyes. I knew he tried to stay strong for me. I knew he tried to hold back his tears. But he was only eight. Watching him struggle to be the man of the house nearly broke me on a daily basis. But gosh, I loved this kid so much.

  My chin trembled as I forced the words out. “I had a meeting with Ms. Conway.” Both kids grimaced and I laughed even as more tears fell. “We have to be on time for school from now on.”

  They both nodded.

  “Okay, Mama,” Abby agreed.

  “I’m serious, guys. We’re going to be in big trouble if we’re late again.”

  “Even you?” Abby asked.

  “Even me. Especially me.”

  “Okay, we’ll help you in the mornings,” Blake said seriously. I couldn’t help but feel some pride at the responsibility he was willing to shoulder. But I hated it at the same time. I hated that he had to grow up so fast. And I hated it even more that I had to rely on him so heavily.