“Are you using your French?” I ask hopefully. Laura took three years of the Romance language in high school.
“Not much. But it’s okay, because everyone speaks English.”
“What’s the weather like?” Leave it to Ron to get to the nitty-gritty.
“It’s nice. Kind of like KC. Getting chilly at night.”
“Hi, Sissy!” Max pops out from behind me.
“Buddy! What’s up? How’s third grade?”
“It’s okay. What happened to your hair?”
“I cut it. Do you like it?”
“Umm … I like my teacher.”
“He has Razzi,” I offer.
Vivs and Laura have the exact same reaction.
“What?”
“Mom, you didn’t tell me that,” Vivs gripes.
“Max, you are so lucky. She was our favorite teacher. Does she still wear that goofy hat?” For reasons unknown, Mrs. Randazzo has always worn a pink fishing hat, complete with lures.
Max laughs. “Yeah. It’s so funny.” He turns and goes back to playing with his fidget spinner.
“How’s Travis?” Vivs asks, and I can tell she’s trying to move things along.
“I’m not really sure,” Laura says after a pause.
“Why, is he sick?” I ask.
“I really don’t know.”
“Did you guys break up?”
“Kind of.”
“Was it your hair?” Vivs asks knowingly.
“No! It wasn’t my hair. Jeez.”
“Vivs, stop,” I tell her. Then to Laura, “What happened?”
She sighs. “I can’t really get into it right now, but he left the band.”
“He left? Where did he go?”
Laura shrugs. “Maybe home. I really don’t know.”
I’m frustrated by her lack of knowledge and concern.
“Well, if he’s gone then why are you still there?” I want to know. “Are you coming home? Is that why you wanted to Skype?”
She grins and rubs her nose. That’s Laura’s tell for when she doesn’t want to answer a question. This time when she rubs, she flinches and I’m guessing the stud she put in makes it uncomfortable.
“Not exactly.” She giggles and looks away from the screen. Just then I hear a voice say, “Just tell them.”
“Who’s that?” I ask.
“It’s Jeen.” She turns her phone around to show us the lead singer of Sucker Punch making himself comfortable on the bed.
“Hi, Jeen,” we all say, and I snicker because it sounds like we’re saying, “Hygiene.”
“Hey guys.” Jeen waves as Laura takes her phone and joins him on the bed. I don’t think I like where this is going. Thank God for Vivs, who once again gets right to the point.
“Oh my God, are you guys together?”
They both laugh as I yell, “What?”
“When did this happen?” Vivs seems pleased for some reason.
“It just sort of happened.” Laura shrugs. She’s now reclining on the bed beside her new boyfriend.
Vivs looks at me. “I totally called this when you and Travis first started dating. Remember, Mom?”
“And that’s why Travis left?” I ignore my older daughter’s question.
“Yeah. Well, we were having a tough time for the last month. He just got so possessive with me. I mean, I couldn’t even talk to Jeen without him going nuts.”
“Gee, I wonder why?” Vivs’s voice drips sarcasm.
Jeen gives a nervous laugh. “Okay, well, I’m going to let you guys talk. Hey, Mrs. Dixon, can you say hi to my aunt if you see her?”
I think I squeak out a “Sure” as the reality of those two dating hits me. I could end up related to Asami. I’m a little light-headed.
Once Jeen leaves the frame, I say to Laura, “Okay, spill it.”
“Spill what? I told you it just happened.” Laura shrugs.
“So you dumped Travis to be with Jeen. Nice.”
“Mom, it’s not the end of the world to break up with someone and start seeing someone else.” Vivs jumps to her sister’s defense.
No shit, I want to tell her. I was the queen of that scene in my glory days. You don’t end up with two kids in three years from two different guys without seeing a few bedsheets, if you know what I mean.
“I know it isn’t. But she’s kind of pulled a Yoko Ono, and that’s not cool.” As always, my heart is with the band.
“What’s a yoko ono?” Laura asks.
Ron, who has been silent through most of this, lets out a barking laugh. “No, she hasn’t! And Sucker Punch is hardly the Beatles.”
Vivs gets up from the computer and starts putting on her coat.
“Look, I have a movie to see, so I’m going to take off. Laura, I’m happy if you’re happy, and I still hate the hair. Nose ring is pretty lit, though.”
“Thanks. I’ll text you tomorrow.”
Vivs gives me a quick hug. “Stay as long as you want. The door locks automatically when you leave. Bye, Ron.” She hugs him quickly and high-fives Max on her way out the door.
We are left in silence, staring at Laura on the computer screen. I sigh.
“Well, I hope you didn’t hurt Travis too much.”
“He was okay. We just grew apart. Mom, please don’t be sucky about this.”
I give Ron an exasperated look and shrug.
“Fine. Now let’s talk about that hair.”
* * *
Fifteen minutes later we are on our way to Pizza Hut for dinner. It was supposed to be Minsky’s, but since we are cutting costs, we’re taking it down a notch. Plus, Ron has a coupon. Normally I’d bemoan not getting to eat the best pizza in KC, but I’m too busy brooding about the Skype session with Laura to care. Not only did I not get a good answer on her hair (“It kept getting caught in my purse strap”) or why she got a nose stud (“I really don’t remember. I must have been drunk”) but she also didn’t seem to have any idea what their plans are. While I stew, Max is watching a movie and Ron is whistling along to the radio.
“Why am I the only one having a hard time with this?” I ask him.
“With what?”
“With her hair and her nose stud and her breakup with Travis and her general laissez-faire attitude about her plans.”
Ron smirks.
“Probably because she reminds you of you.”
“Ha! She’s going to have to see a lot more action before she can be compared to me.”
Ron sighs.
“Thank you, honey. I always appreciate a reminder of your exploits before you met me.”
“Seriously though, I can’t remember being that … that…”
“That what? Young? Unburdened? Trust me, you were. To go by the stories you’ve needlessly shared with me over the years, you were the original easy-breezy girl.”
I chew on this for a minute. “God, I just wish she’d found a better band.”
I’m tired so I close my eyes for the rest of the ride to dinner. I only open them once when I feel Ron hit that damn pothole on 112th. I’m a little fuzzy, but I think I see someone who resembles Vivs walking down the street arm in arm with a man. We’re past them before I can get a good look. I’m probably wrong, but I call her cell anyway just to check in. It goes to voicemail.
4
* * *
To: Grades K–5 Parents
From: JDixon
Re: Safety Patrol
Date: 9/10
Greetings, Losers!
And when I call you losers, it’s only because I am the winner! I am the parent who has been chosen to spearhead the new fifth-grade safety patrol program at our school. Booyah!
For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Jen Dixon. I’m the mother of a third-grader at this fine learning establishment and I am excited to get this show on the road.
While Marge DeJones’s granddaughter has been doing a great job filling in helping our kiddos cross the street safely, it’s time we let our fifth-graders take the h
elm (or the stop sign) and show what responsible young people they have become … we hope.
The kids’ schedule has already been set, but parents will need to help supervise, mornings from 7:30 to 8:30 and afternoons from 2:30 to 3:30.
I will post the schedule as soon as I have made it. Please check to see if and when you have been assigned. If you have a conflict and can’t make your day, it is up to you to find a replacement. Do not—I repeat, do not—email me. You will only get a poop emoji in reply.
Perks of the job include all the hot chocolate you can drink, a bird’s-eye view of how kids really behave, and the school’s undying gratitude.
No, don’t thank me, thank YOU!
Over and out.
Jen Dixon
* * *
* * *
I’m genuinely curious about how many initial complaint emails I’m going to get. We have 180 school days, so I need at least 179 parents. With 572 students, you wouldn’t think I’d have a problem, but I know my customers, and this is going to be a hard sell. May the odds be ever in my favor!
As I turn to unload the dishwasher, my phone rings and I see it’s the school calling. This is always the worst moment. In the time between seeing it’s the school and picking up the phone, you die a million times with the fear that something has happened to your child. I take a deep breath and answer quickly.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Jen, it’s Winnie Randazzo. Max is fine.”
Thank God for teachers like Winnie who understand that those are the first words you need to hear.
“Hi. What’s up?” My heart is still beating like a jackrabbit’s.
“Can you come in and pick up Max from the classroom after school today?”
“Sure. Why?”
“Nothing scary. We just need to have a little talk.”
You can add that to the list of things you don’t want to hear from a teacher.
“I’ll be there at three,” I say, knowing that asking more questions will get me nowhere.
“See you then.” Razzi hangs up quickly and I’m left to spend the next three hours wondering what the hell is going on.
I turn back to the dishwasher and notice a pile of coupons on the counter. Ron’s daily offering. Oh yay, cans of asparagus are three for one. Now all I have to do is find someone in my house who will eat canned asparagus.
I have a sudden need to pound the pavement, so I grab my headphones and my cell, slip on my favorite Nike sneakers, and head out the back door.
While Tom Petty blasts in my ears, I start to run my usual route but quickly find myself detouring toward Ron’s store, the Fitting Room. It’s about three miles from our house—a little more than I’m used to running, but I’m pretty confident I can make it. Then I can get someone from the store to drive me home.
Right in the middle of “Last Dance with Mary Jane,” my phone rings. It’s Nina, thank God. I had left her a message earlier.
“Hi,” I puff as I slow to a walk.
“What’s wrong? Why are you out of breath?”
“Sorry, I’m running.”
“So, what’s up?” She’s all business today.
“Well, in a nutshell, Laura is whoring her way around Europe, Ron is forcing me to use coupons, and I’ve been called into the school about Max.”
“What’s going on with Max?” She goes for the least salacious one first.
“I don’t know. Razzi called this morning and asked me to pick him up in the classroom this afternoon.”
“And she didn’t say why? Like maybe he won an award or something?”
“Yeah, I doubt that’s what it is. He’s being such a smart-ass lately, but I thought it was only at home. Maybe he mouthed off to her.”
Nina chuckles. “Well, that won’t end well for him. She takes absolutely no shit from eight-year-olds.”
“I guess I’ll find out in a couple of hours.”
“Why is Ron making you use coupons?”
“We’re cutting back on our spending because of the franchising. He has to take a big loan.”
“Huh. And what’s wrong with using coupons? I do it all the time. You can save a lot.”
“I know, I know, I just always forget to bring them and they’re hardly ever for anything I actually use.” I know I sound spoiled and petty. Nina’s ready to move on.
“And what’s this BS about Laura whoring her way around Europe? I thought that was your thing.”
“I may have oversold that one. She broke up with Travis and is now dating Jeen.”
“The Asian guy? He’s cute.”
“Not the point,” I grumble. “She dumped Travis and he left the band.”
“Did they find someone to replace him?”
“Again, Neens, not the point. She’s jumping from one musician to another.”
“And you’re judging her? That’s rich.”
“I’m not judging her, I’m concerned for her.”
“Does she seem okay? Have you talked to her?”
“Oh, she’s fine. Not a care in the world.”
“Then you should be fine, too. When is she coming home?”
“Not any time soon. I guess the band is extending their tour.”
“Has she asked you for money yet?”
“Not yet.”
“Huh. I don’t have a lot of answers for you, girl. Sounds like you need to have a talk with her, though.”
“Yeah, I know. I just needed to vent first.”
“You know who might have a thing or two to say about this?”
“Who?”
“Your mother.”
“My mother? You’re kidding, right?”
“Think about it. She’s already lived through this whole thing … with you.”
“Yeah, but Kay had no friggin’ idea what I was up to. Remember it was before cell phones and Skype. She was lucky if I had the money to call her once a month.”
“Well, I’m sure she worried about you.”
“I’m sure she did, but as far as both my parents knew I was hanging with a girlfriend and visiting museums. Ignorance was bliss for them.”
“I doubt they were oblivious. You should talk to her.”
“I’ll think about it,” I say as a way to get off this topic. “How are you guys doing?”
“Nothing quite that interesting going on here. I picked up a few clients at Chyna’s curriculum night.”
Her news reminds me that I haven’t sent out my curriculum-night email yet. Oh joy, something else to worry about.
“Listen, I’ve got to run. I know it feels like a lot to deal with, but just take a breath and take it one problem at a time.”
Just hearing my best friend tell me to breathe makes me calm. “I will. Thanks.”
“And let me know what happens with Max. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
I hang up feeling much better, but then suddenly worse when I realize that I’m exactly halfway between home and the store and I have absolutely no interest in running anymore. Or even walking. My heel is starting to hurt—a leftover injury from my last half marathon. I call Ron’s cell. Then I remember he has a big meeting with a rep from the yoga clothing line Spiritual Gangster, so I call my mother. She picks up on the first ring.
“Hello, sweetheart.”
“Hi, Mom, are you busy?”
“No. I just put some applesauce muffins in the oven so I have a good fifteen minutes to chat before I have to take them out. How’s that running training going?”
“It’s good but actually, I need a ride. Can you come and pick me up?”
“What’s wrong with your car?”
“I’m not home. I’m at the corner of Main and Elm, right near the park entrance. I was running but I had to stop.”
“Well, I’m not surprised. That running is a bitch.”
Kay Howard 2.0 strikes again!
“Yes, it really can be. Will you come and get me?” I repeat.
“Well, I just put some blueberry, I mean app
lesauce muffins in the oven, so you’ll have to wait until they come out.”
“I know, you told me. Can’t Dad take them out? I really need to get home.”
“I’m not sure your father would know what to do, sweetheart. He’s never been very handy in the kitchen.”
I close my eyes and pray for patience. “Okay. Well, as soon as you take the muffins out…”
“I’ll pop right over to get you. Where did you say you were?”
“Main and Elm, by the park.” I calculate the odds of my mother getting here without having to call and ask me again where I am.
“Okay, sweetheart, see you in a jiff.”
I hang up and take a seat on a bench near the entrance to the park.
With a good thirty minutes on my hands I decide to check my emails. Besides the usual spate of spam, I have updates from my bank and the AARP. Oh yes, I’m a member. Your membership card arrives the day you turn fifty, which I think is a real dick move on their part. But I have to admit some of the discounts they offer are pretty good.
Noticeably absent from my email is even one response about safety patrol, except from Sylvie Pike.
* * *
To: JDixon
From: SPike
Re: Your safety patrol email
Date: 9/10
Jen,
Good email. But “Greetings, Losers” is a little harsh. I wouldn’t use it again.
Thanks,
Sylvie
* * *
I’m insulted! She obviously doesn’t know that I rarely use the same material twice. My mom still hasn’t shown up, so I text Vivs. She has been ghosting me since I left a message asking if she was walking with a guy on 112th the other night. I decide to go with something tantalizing.
* * *
Hey … Max is in trouble at school.
It takes a minute and then bingo.
What did he do?
Don’t know yet. Razzi asked me to pick him up in the classroom today.
I wait, but she doesn’t respond. Oh well, at least I know she’s alive. I try Ron to kill a little more time. This time he picks up.
“What’s up?” he answers. What did people do before caller ID?
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