That Was Yesterday

by HJ Bellus

  “Kate.”

  I turn to see Mr. Gilly, the principal. He’s relentless, asking every Friday what my weekend plans are. He’s determined to take me on a date. He’s a looker, kind, and a great principal. There’s no spark, and even if there was, I don’t have time or intentions to date.

  “Yeah.” I brush back my hair and adjust my glasses on the bridge of my nose.

  “Run out of contacts again?” He loosens his tie.

  “Sure did.” I sidestep him. “Hey, I have an appointment and am running late. Have a good weekend.”

  I race past him. Probably not the best thing to do, but it’s past my contract time. Hell, it wouldn’t matter anyway, because most nights I’m in my classroom way past dark. I have to meet Max. I’m hoping he didn’t spook and run. I can’t imagine what he’s going through.

  Not going to lie…at first, I had a gut feeling Max was just like Ally and knew he had a son but didn’t give a shit. It was that first phone call that told me a different story. I can’t imagine what Max is going through right now.

  My clunker of a car remains in the parking lot. I can make it faster by foot to the coffee shop. I toss my bag into my car and pat my pocket, making sure my debit card is there, then I take off.

  The bell above the door rings. The workers behind the counter don’t look twice when I enter. I’m a normal here, typically going over curriculum and working out lesson plans. I spot Max slumped in a booth.

  His thick, perfectly messy rich brown hair is covered by a ball cap when before it was on full view. My palms grow sweaty with each step closer to him. Inhaling deeply, I move and slide right across from him in the booth.

  I swear to God an older version of Finn peers up at me. The resemblance is so striking I have to force myself to focus. I tense then exhale, knowing I’ve said everything that needs to be said. The proverbial ball is in Max’s court.

  “Your normal, Kate?”

  A voice startles me. I leap in the booth, the tops of my legs clanging against the bottom of the table. I spread my palms on the smooth top and inhale before nodding.

  “Yes, please.”

  “And you?” The young barista focuses his attention on Max.

  “Nothing,” he growls.

  I open my mouth to apologize for Max’s attitude, but in all reality, there are no words.

  The young man scurries off, leaving us back to our awkward silence. I clench my fingers in my free hand to keep from drumming them on the tabletop, waiting on Max to speak first.

  “Thank you,” he croaks out then clears his throat. “I’m not sure what the next step is.”

  Max opens the floodgates, and I take the invitation.

  “I love Finn,” I blurt out. “I had a suspicion on the first day of school. I didn’t listen to the other teachers and their speculations. Finn is a bright boy. He’s the smartest in his class. It was his clothes and hygiene that was my first red flag. The further I dug, the more I became worried.”

  Max glances up at me prying with his stare in question, so I continue on.

  “Finn had no social skills but talked easily to me. In fact, he clung to me. During our conversations, I found out he had a nana who helped raise him. It wasn’t until she went to see the angels that he and his mom moved back home. Finn told me his mom wanted him to meet his real nana who lived near Morton. I’ve never met Ally. Finn has either ridden the bus or has been in foster care.”

  “Why foster care?” Max’s knuckles turn white on the tabletop.

  I steady my voice and continue because this man is the answer to save sweet Finn. “I reported several incidents where Finn wasn’t clothed properly and showed signs of being hungry. The school ignored all of it. It wasn’t until Ally’s home was swept for drugs. They didn’t find anything, but the cops removed Finn. The same thing has happened a few times, and that’s why he’s currently in foster care.” The barista sets down my Chai Tea and slides a glass of ice water towards Max. I don’t stop, spilling everything I’ve kept bottled in for months now. “I’ve been so damn frustrated because Child Protection Service is trained to help the parents get to a point where they can raise their children in a healthy environment, and I know there are successful stories, but it’s never worked in Finn’s case. It’s been getting worse every time. It’s like Ally has no care or even an idea she has a child. I swear whoever this Nana was raised Finn until she moved here.”

  “Enough.” Max clenches and unclenches his fists on the table. Without thinking, I reach over and cup his fists, soothing out the pain and agony the best I can. “He’s dirty. He’s hungry. The kids make fun of him I’m sure, but why was he taken this time?”

  I peer down at our linked hands. “It was picture day. I bought him a nice little button-up shirt. I’ve been written up a couple of times for favoring Finn, but I don’t care. I wanted him to feel special on picture day.”

  “I sent him into the bathroom off our classroom while the others were at recess to change into his shirt. Max, he came out so proud and happy of his new shirt, but the buttons were all mismatched.”

  I have to stop and clear my throat. My eyes sting with hurt and pain. It’s a memory that I never want to live again, but I push through.

  “I helped him adjust the buttons. Once I got his shirt undone and then went to fasten the buttons, that’s when I saw the welts covering his chest. They were perfect triangles. When I asked him what happened, he told me his mom got super mad when her shirt fell off a hanger and hit him with it. I reported it to the school, CPS, and the cops, and that’s when he was taken from Ally this last time…”

  I’m not able to finish the rest of my story about being put on probation by the school board for once again overstepping boundaries before Max storms out of the booth with his jaw clenched. He glances back at me then storms off. The hurt stirring in his eyes breaks me. I whip around to see him striding right out of the door.

  “Max,” I holler out.

  He doesn’t turn around.

  My chest aches for Finn and the fact his one final chance just stormed away.

  Chapter 7

  Max

  “Your dad will appreciate that.” Mom opens the truck door and snags the brown bag holding a fifth of Jack Daniels.

  She damn well knows it wasn’t for him or her. I wasn’t thinking when I stormed into the liquor store and bought it. Drinking is something I’ve never fallen back on. Too damn scared to slip down that slippery slope my mom did. Today was the final straw in my game of discipline.

  “Dinner is ready when you are.” She waves the bag and saunters up the sidewalk.

  I didn’t miss the worry in her features. Jules knows not to push, and that in time, I’ll crack wide open. I grab my phone out of my pocket, knowing I have a certain text to send.

  Me: I’m sorry about today. I’m meeting with a lawyer in the morning.

  I chew my bottom lip, not sure how to end the text. Kate has a heart of gold, and I’ve been nothing but an asshole to her. There’s no damn handbook telling you how to act when you’ve been shocked with a child and one who is basically reliving your childhood. Sheer hell.

  I click send, at a loss for words. The three dots at the bottom of the screen jump around, letting me know she’s texting me back.

  Kate: Please call if you need anything. I can keep you updated on Finn.

  Me: Thanks. I appreciate it.

  I know she’s breaking all kinds of rules. Just goes to show what kind of person she truly is.

  Dad is on the porch in his rocker and staring me down. There are two plates on the table and two drinks. I relax back in the rocker that Mom typically occupies and take a long pull of the stiff Jack Daniels drink.

  “Thanks for the whiskey.” He tips back his glass tumbler. “Needed one after today.”

  I nod. “Planned to drink the entire bottle on my own.”

  As hurtful as it is to open up about it, it feels damn good at the same time to admit the truth out loud, ridding that lingering demon insi
de of me.

  “Can’t say I blame ya.” Dad shovels a forkful of tender roast into his mouth.

  I let another harsh swallow of whiskey glide down my throat. “You know my biggest fear used to be turning out to be a drunk just like her, and now that seems so fucking ridiculous.”

  “Can’t imagine what you’re going through right now, son. All I do know is you are one of the strongest people I know, Max. You’ll get through this. Focus on one step at a time. First thing is a paternity test then moving on from there.”

  I finish off my drink. “No need for that. He’s mine, Dad. I saw him today, and there’s no doubt.”

  He nods then slides over his drink. “I had a feeling. But still we are going to follow each step. I’ve already filled in the lawyer your mom and I hired. He’s the best in the state, specializing in custody cases. But Max, you’re going to have to keep your calm and stay patient during this process. It will be hard to do, but you’re going to have to have faith.”

  Tears sting, but I refuse to let a single one drop. “You should’ve seen him. Fuck, it was a horrible vortex into time travel. He looks just like me, he was dressed in shitty clothes, and he was so damn sad when he had to leave Kate’s side.”

  “Kate?” Dad asks, finishing off his meal.

  “His kindergarten teacher. The one who called me.”

  “She’s a damn persistent one. She called our house a dozen times, never giving up asking for your number.”

  “She did?” I crane my neck to look at him.

  “Yeah, we chalked it up to some stalker or shit like that.”

  “I wonder how she got my number?” I whisper to myself. The setting sun catches my question in its crisp air. All I do know is I’m so damn thankful she did.

  Chapter 8

  Kate

  It’s been two weeks and not one word from Max. It’s as if he disappeared off the face of the world. I get that it may be too much for him, but Finn needs him. My hands have been tied after being written up and put on probation by the school board. Someone reported seeing Max and me together at the local coffee shop.

  It’s all bullshit, and I know it. It’s a good old small town, and all of its politics it keeps locked away in the depths, the narrow-minded school board members doing their best to brush everything under the carpet. They have no intention of helping Finn. Instead, they are more worried about looking good from the street.

  My phone pings in my pocket. I pull it out to see a text from Mr. Gilly. Steven is relentless in his efforts. His actions become less subtle each time I turn him down. He claims he’s on my side and he couldn’t help me with being written up. It’s all bullshit, and the longer time goes on, the more livid I become.

  Gilly: Just checking in on you. I have an extra ticket to the movies if you want to join me.

  I ignore it, but before I can tuck my phone away into my pocket and go back to scanning the shelves of the local hardware store, the tiny bubbles begin popping up and down.

  Gilly: And dinner of course.

  It’s the final nail in his coffin. I’m fed up with his attempts and no action when it comes to doing the right thing. The letter on my computer to the state Board of Education will be sent tomorrow.

  Me: No.

  Me: Actually, I’d appreciate if you’d quit asking me out. It’s never going to happen. I have no interest. And this is quickly approaching harassment.

  The bubbles dance again, but I’m faster this time, powering off my phone and putting it back in my pocket. I glance back to the shelf, scanning for the can of Gloss Ocean Blue spray paint. I scored three chairs at a yard sale and ran out of paint. A smile graces my face, knowing my students will love their new reading chairs.

  “Shit,” I hiss to myself, spotting it on the top shelf and way to the back. “Are you serious?”

  I glance around seeing a five-gallon bucket with a lid and grab it. Not the smartest idea, but right now my patience has run thin, and I know it will take forever for Old Man Pete to help me. He moves about as fast as thick tar and will want to talk for thirty minutes about the weather.

  I snag the bucket and place it right in front of the wall of spray paint. I test it out and make sure it’s sturdy enough. Even with the extra height from standing on the bucket, I’m still forced to go up on the tips of my toes. I grab a can of another color, reaching with everything I have to scoot the damn blue my way.

  Right when my fingers wrap around the top of the can, the bucket pitches, sending me forward into the shelves. My hand gets caught between an open space in the shelf and doesn’t give.

  “Shit,” I hiss out, cringing in pain as something in my wrist pops and I sail towards the harsh tile floor.

  It never comes. Instead, I’m wrapped in strong arms.

  “Not a smart idea, Kate.” A voice vibrates against my neck.

  The pain throbbing in my wrist dulls as Max’s scent wraps me in a gentle hug. I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. He sets me on the ground, and I adjust my shirt down around my middle. Max extends his hand out toward me.

  “Is this what you were going for?”

  I nod. Not only did he catch me from a major crash, but also managed to grab the can of spray paint. I reach out to grab it and wince in pain, unable to hold it.

  “Jesus, Kate, your wrist.” Max grabs my upper arm, bringing it closer to him.

  I realize it’s already swollen at least double in size.

  “It got caught,” I squeak out.

  “You probably broke it.” He begins guiding me to the front. There’s a harshness in his tone that makes me stop and stiffen my spine.

  “I’m fine.” I pull back.

  “Bullshit. You need to go to the hospital now.” He begins walking again. “Pete, put this on my account.”

  I’m outside and being lifted into Max’s truck. He jogs around the front of it. I can’t help but notice the resemblance to Finn, even in their simple gestures. His jaw is clenched as he fires up the truck and backs out of the local hardware store parking lot.

  “You don’t have to do this. It’s clear you’re not impressed.” I turn to him. “Just let me out. I can drive one-handed.”

  The pain doesn’t even register with the mystery of this man sitting next to me. Talk about one screwed-up puzzle.

  “You’re right.” He glances over at me, searing me with those rich chocolate eyes. “I’m not impressed. I’m pissed off.”

  “You’re an ass. Let me out,” I demand again.

  He chuckles. The man actually has the nerve to laugh right now.

  “I take that back. You’re a major asshole.”

  He shakes his head as he turns into the small hospital. Nothing like living in a small town where everything is located on the main road. He kills the engine and turns toward me, piercing me with his damn good looks.

  “I’m pissed over the fact you couldn’t ask for help.” He reaches over and squeezes the top of my thigh. “I can’t stand seeing people in pain or hurt.”

  And with that, he’s out of the truck and making his way to my side. He’s all gentleman opening the door for me and ushering me inside. I don’t get a chance to speak at all. Max takes it upon himself to get me checked in. There’s a presence about him that no one can deny. I don’t miss the way the young nurse drinks him in. And just like that, I find myself in an emergency room.

  Once Samantha, the overly flirty nurse, leaves the room, the silence is thick, threatening to smother me. The throbbing pain in my wrist begins to radiate up my arm. The patience that was running thin before has now blown. I rip off the Band-Aid.

  “Finn goes back to his mom next week.” I stare him down. “CPS has claimed her reformed and capable of caring for him. It’s bullshit.”

  Max doesn’t say a word, so I take it upon myself to push forward.

  “He’s been doing so well with this set of foster parents. It’s going to break my heart when it happens. I swear, why doesn’t she just give him away? And why in the hell are
you back here? I thought you left, fleeing from your problems and not facing them just like everyone else in Finn’s life.”

  My rant is cut off when the door to the stale room opens.

  “Hi, Miss Valent…”

  “Yes, that’s me.” I wave from the table, the paper crunching underneath me, saving the man from butchering my last name.

  “I’m here to take you for x-rays.” The gentle giant approaches me. “Any chance you’re pregnant or could be?”

  I snort then burst into laughter. I slap my hand over my mouth. My sex life is non-existent and has been since forever. Yeah, I’m that girl who is okay dying a sex-starved woman, just not an old cat lady.

  “I’ll take that as a no,” he responds.

  I’m ushered down a long hall then go through the process of getting my arm x-rayed. I stay quiet through it all but learn everything about Hank, from how he married his high school sweetheart to the names of his six dogs.

  “The doctor will be in shortly. You want some more ice for your wrist?” Hank asks.

  “No, thanks.”

  “Yes, she does.” Max kicks his legs out in front of him.

  “All righty then. I’ll be right back.”

  “Ass,” I mumble as Hank closes the door.

  “Thought I was a major asshole.” Max crooks up a smile, putting his perfect, white teeth on display, making me angrier that I find him so damn good looking.

  “You are, and quit treating me like a damn child.”

  I scoot back on the table as Max stands to full height and stretches his arms over his head. I keep my focus on the watercolor painting on the wall and not his torso.

  “I’m a concerned friend. If I’m treating you like a child, I’m sorry. I played football for years and know ice is crucial to help with swelling.”

  Hank walks back in and hands the ice to Max, who takes it upon himself to walk over to me and place it on my wrist.